by Sara Wolf
“Not used to rock clubs?” He shouts over the noise.
“I’ve been to one before. But it didn’t have this many people.”
“Yeah, Battle of the Bands is a big thing around here.” He leads me to a corner where we can see the stage clearly but are still far away from the heart of the crowd. I feel a little better and let go of his sleeve, embarrassed. I don’t want to send the wrong signals. After the band is done, the MC comes on and asks for the crowd’s judgment. The crowd cheers and screams and claps wildly. The MC introduces the next band. They’re alright, but they don’t sound very unique. I say that to Brendan, and he agrees with me. When they’re done playing the MC asks for the crowd’s judgment again. This time the screaming and clapping is softer.
“Which one is your friends’ band?” Brendan asks.
“The Break-Ins.”
“We did a piece on them in the school newspaper a while back.”
“Did you? Awesome.”
“We interviewed Jennifer Vega, I think?”
“She’s my friend.”
“Small world.”
“Absolutely microscopic,” I agree.
Jen’s band comes on, and I stand on the base of a pillar and cheer, waving my arms wildly. She probably can’t see me. They launch into a song, pumping up the audience with adrenaline. I don’t know how it’s possible, but they’ve gotten even better from the last time I saw them perform. Jen’s playing is phenomenal, and their singer has a magnetic aura as she struts around the stage in leather pants and safety pins earrings. The crowd loves them. When they finish, the screaming is so loud I can barely hear the MC ask for judgment. The next band comes on, and Brendan looks at me.
“I think we might have a winner.”
“If they won I would be so happy,” I say.
“So would I.” A third voice comes from behind me. I turn and see Grace – wearing a tiny black dress that shows off her longs legs. Her dark hair is left sleek and free, like a curtain, and her makeup is likewise dark and thick. She smiles at Brendan.
“You’re here with a friend, I see.”
Why do I feel so nervous all of a sudden? “Y-Yeah. Brendan, this is Grace, a friend of Jen’s. Grace, Brendan.”
“Hi. Jen’s playing is really good tonight,” He says. Grace laughs.
“Yes, she’s really giving it her heart and soul. Would you mind if I borrowed Rose for a moment?”
Brendan shakes his head, grin faint. Grace pulls me by the arm to a quieter corner of the club, near the doorway.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” She demands.
“What do you mean?”
Grace sighs. “Thank God he isn’t here tonight.”
‘He’. She means Lee. My stomach churns.
“Look, Grace, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for anything to –”
“You didn’t mean for what? For you to break my brother’s soul?” She glares. “I leave for two weeks and come back and…he’s so different. Whatever you did, you made him different. He sleepwalks now more than ever. He pretends to smile but I know it isn’t a real smile. He doesn’t talk to me anymore. Didn’t you get my texts?”
I flinch. I’d ignored her in the hopes I could forget about Lee. Just seeing her name on my phone reminded me of him, too.
“What happened between you two?” She presses. “What did you do to him?”
I suck in a breath. “Did he ever tell you about the will?”
“What will?”
I shake my head. “Nevermind.”
“Who cares about wills? He likes you, Rose. He really, really –” She cuts off and bites her lip in frustration. “He’s never liked a girl like this. Never. They’ve always come and gone. He talks in his sleep, you know. And he says your name.”
My heart caves in on itself.
“You slept together, didn’t you?” She asks finally. After a torturous moment in which I relive every kiss and touch in a second of flashing memories, I nod.
“Well it was more for him than just sleeping together,” Grace sighs. “And you broke it off. Obviously.”
“Grace, your dad –”
“I don’t care,” She snaps. “About Dad. I only care about Lee. Why did you break it off with him? You never struck me as the type of girl who wanted a quick lay.”
I flush, more in offense than embarrassment. But I deserve her harsh words. Because I don’t know what to believe - because I’m suspicious and distrustful - I hurt Lee. I said I trusted him. But with the evidence Kiera presented, how can I trust him completely?
“You just don’t care for him as much as he cares for you,” Grace concludes. “That’s it, isn’t it? Because he’s not some cold, unfeeling, dominating bastard who forces his way around, because he shows his emotions and is considerate, he’s some sort of pussy. ‘Girls like bad boys’. Is that it?”
“No! Never. He’s fine just the way he is!”
“Then why –”
“A girl talked to me. Kiera. She said…she said he conned her into marrying him and made off with her money.”
“Marry –” Grace sputters, then slaps her forehead. “I should’ve known. You’ve never had to deal with this, have you? Boyfriends with jealous ex-girlfriends.”
“But, but she had the letter that was written by the same person who wrote mine! It was forged,” I argue. “She said my lawyer took a bribe from Farlon, and when I called him he said he did and apologized!”
“Kiera is the rich one,” Grace murmurs. “I think. I can’t remember them all, but she drove a Jaguar and talked about Stanford. And her clothes were mostly Chanel. It would be easy for someone like her to bribe her way into paper forgeries.”
“And my lawyer?”
Grace sighs. “My father bribes many people. It’s how he operates. I don’t doubt he bribed your lawyer, but perhaps not for the reasons Kiera said he did. You didn’t ask what he took the bribe for, did you?”
It dawns on me, slowly. Terror and horror creeps in. Maybe subconsciously I’d been waiting for something to go wrong with Lee and I, so when Kiera came, I swallowed her lie at face value. Gorgeous Lee, liking average and unremarkable me. It seemed too uneven. Part of me thinks I’m worthless. So worthless that it makes no sense why someone as amazing as Lee would even give me the time of day. My insecurities drove us apart.
I did it.
I’m the evil one.
Grace looks towards the stage. “Looks like the last band is on. They’ll announce the winners soon. But you don’t care about that. That’s my thing to care about.”
Her slender hand rests on my shoulder comfortingly, and she smiles that brilliant smile.
“What you care about is in my apartment, moping around.”
“I can’t. I don’t deserve to –”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned from being with Jen, it’s that we all deserve a second chance at love. No one gets it right the first time.”
I bite my lip. Brendan comes up to us.
“Hey, everything alright? They’re about to announce the winners.”
“I have to go,” I say. Grace smiles and turns back to the stage.
“Right now? It’s pretty dark out. Will you be okay?” Brendan asks.
“Yeah!” I nod. “I know my way. It’s just a few blocks.”
“Let me walk you there. I can’t let you go through this part of town in the middle of the night alone with a good conscious.”
“Alright. Sure. Why not? Let’s go.”
I take off at a breakneck pace, my sneakers practically flying on the cement. Brendan has to jog to keep up with me. When we pass a group of drunk frat-boy-looking-types, he leans in closer to me. I’m grateful, and a little flattered he cares so much, but my mind is riveted to Lee. To what I’m going to say to him when I see him. ‘Sorry’ has to be first. Will he even forgive me? Sorry, and maybe a kiss? Or would that be too soon? All I want is his kiss, to feel him, to see his smile again –
Finally, we get to the apartment b
uilding. I press the buzzer. Brendan jogs in place to ward off the cold, and doesn’t ask questions, which I’m grateful for.
“Hello?” Lee’s voice sends molten shocks through me. My hand slips on the button but I regain control.
“H-Hi. It’s me.”
There’s a long silence. My heart feels like it’s going to sprout horns and teeth and eat itself alive. But I’m the one who was wrong. I have to melt the frost first.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
The intercom buzzes, then goes quiet. The door doesn’t click open. He hung up. I swallow the bitter disappointment in my throat.
“No luck, huh?” Brendan walks up to me. I barely manage a smile.
“Y-Yeah. I guess he really hates me after all. It’s…it’s understandable, though.” I sniff. “I was the one who hurt him. So it’s okay if he hates me. I-I can understand that.”
Hot tears well over my cheeks. Brendan reaches out and rubs my arm reassuringly.
“Hey, it’s okay. He’ll come around. You’re an awesome girl.”
I wipe my nose on my sleeve. “No, I’m horrible. Horrible and nasty and suspicious –”
“Don’t say that. I’m sure –” He stops. I look up, and there, just behind the glass door in the lobby, stands Lee. Watching us. His hair is mussed and the shadows under his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. Grace wasn’t kidding. He looks gaunt. It doesn’t make him any less handsome, but it exacerbates his angles and lines, and makes him look so much more feral. His golden eyes flicker from me to Brendan and back again. He walks out and holds an envelope to me. I’m too stunned at his appearance to form words, but I take it like a rusty machine, slow and unsure. He ducks back inside just as I regain my senses.
“Lee!” I run up to the door and bang on it. “Lee! Let me in! We have to talk!”
He ignores me – getting in the elevator and disappearing from my sight. My heart sags, but I turn the envelope over in my hand. There’s a thin card inside. I tear it open. It’s an invitation to a dinner at a fancy hotel. Some sort of Christmas fundraiser. My ticket’s inside, and it says ‘black-tie attire’. Lee’s handwriting is in the corner; ‘Ask for the reservation under Montenegro at the desk’. A party? He won’t talk to me but he wants me at a party?
Brendan taps me on shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”
I stuff the invitation away and wipe my eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Brendan walks me back to campus and we say goodbye. He smiles one last time before striding away into the night.
“No matter what you think about yourself, you’re a really great person, Rose. I hope that guy deserves you.”
As pathetic as it was, a few weeks ago seeing Lee’s cold, unresponsive expression directed at me would make me cry myself to sleep. But not anymore. I suck it up. I stare at the invitation on my bedside table and try to smile. He wants me there. So I’ll go. I have to tell him how I feel, and apologize, even if he hates me. Even if it’s the last time we ever talk, I need to say what’s in my heart.
I’m glad he’s giving me one last chance. It’s all I need.
It’s all I can have.
It’s all I deserve.
~~~
Jen’s band got second place.
She’s not down about it, though. The first three places get to send their demo into a recording company downtown, so she’s working hard and excited and flustered and in love. With Grace. It’s so easy to tell by the way she smiles and gives me affectionate noogies with every other sentence. I’m happy for her. She deserves to be happy.
Me? Not so much.
I call Brett and apologize. He apologizes too, for taking the bribe. I ask him what the bribe was for, this time, and he says it was to lie about the timeframe.
“Three months,” Brett says. “Farlon bribed me to lie and replace your letter with a copy that said the required time to get the money was three months. The original is one month.”
“Why would he want that?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe he thought you’d agree if it was a longer timeframe, rather than a shotgun wedding . After one month passed, the money would be transferred.”
“No,” I say slowly as it dawns on me. “He didn’t make you change it to three for me. He did it for Lee - so Lee would think he knew when the money was coming. Lee thinks it’s three months, but it’s really just one, and Farlon gets his mitts on the money and Lee is none the wiser as he waits for the remaining two months to be up.”
“That makes sense,” Brett agrees. “He did strike me as the type of man to be concerned with money.”
“He has loan sharks after him.”
Brett makes a little ‘aha’ noise. “I’m sorry again, Rose. I –”
“It’s okay, really. I jumped to conclusions and it’s landed me in a hot mess and I’m learning my lesson. Thanks for not hating me for it.”
“Nonsense. Your grandpa would be proud, Rose. You’ve grown into a fine young woman with a good head on your shoulders.”
I chew my lip, thinking. “You were friends with Grandpa, right?”
“In a way, yeah.”
“Did he ever talk about a doctor? Not in a hospital, but like a home visit type of guy.”
“I don’t know, but he mentioned seeing a Doc Tanner for his arthritis a couple times. Does that help at all?”
I smile. “Yeah. A lot. Thanks.”
I do a little Google searching and come up with a Doctor M. Tanner living about two miles from Grandpa’s house. That must be him. I call the number and a scratchy voice answers.
“Doctor Tanner’s office, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Doctor. You don’t know me. But you knew my grandfather – James Jensen.”
“He’ll be missed,” The Doctor says after a tired sigh. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks. I was just calling to ask about something that happened a long time ago. Grandpa brought me in to you.”
“That he did. Little girl with head trauma. The boy with James wouldn’t stop crying until I gave him a lollipop.”
“That little girl was me.”
“Was it? It’s good to speak to you again, then.”
“I…the amnesia I got from that accident. I just learned about it a few weeks ago. I guess…I guess I just wanted to see if you were real. If what happened was real.”
“I can assure you it was. You came with a head injury. Scalp injury, to be precise. Pretty common among kids. You had bad bruising and a big gash, and the impact jolted your brain around a bit. I was worried about vessel tearing, but you didn’t get any of that. I kept you overnight for observation.”
“So, my amnesia –”
“It’s not strictly amnesia.” I can hear the frown in his voice. “Amnesia induced by head injury doesn’t last for years. I’m no psychologist, but I’m a pediatrician. Sometimes when something painful and bad happens to a kid, they block it out so well they can’t remember it when they grow up.”
“You think I blocked it out?”
“Oh yeah. Scary struggle in a creek and a fall like that? I’d block it out, too. You were a brave trooper. Never once complained about the stitches or anything.”
“Grandpa kept it from my parents.”
“I imagine he might have. He was worried about your mother finding out in particular. Strained family relationships and all that. But he’s gone now. Don’t think it’s much of an issue anymore, is it?”
“No. You’re right,” I pause. “Thanks, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Give your family my best wishes. James was a good friend of mine and it ticks me right off he beat me to the grave.”
I laugh an awkward half-laugh and say goodbye. When I hang up I feel light. Lighter than when Mom and Dad’s company was saved. Lee wasn’t lying. I should’ve tracked down Doctor Tanner a long time ago, or at least looked for evidence before I jumped to believe Kiera.
Kiera. I won’t be trusting her ever again, and I certainly won’t ever like her. She’s
a flawless actress. I’d seen that. She fooled me once. But she’ll never fool me again.
On Friday, I take the bus up to Mom and Dad’s. We drive to Grandpa’s house together to see it one last time and clear out the final bit of junk from the garage before the new owners move in. Dad drives, Mom stares out the window at the passing fields, and Riley and I are in the backseat, him on his phone texting and me listening to music. We share a bag of gummi worms between us. Riley flicks one at my face every so often and I shove a few down his shirt in retaliation. Whoever attracts the attention of Mom and Dad by making noise or moving suddenly loses. It’s sort of a ritual car game for me and him. We’re too old to play it, but that’s never stopped us before.
While Mom and Dad are busy with the house, Riley and I visit the creek one last time. He skips a rock across the chilly water and sighs, breath puffing out as a white cloud.
“Lots of memories here.”
I nod. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and continues.
“It’s okay though. Leaving memories behind but keeping them inside is part of growing up, I guess.”
“When did you get so wise?” I quirk a brow. He chucks a pebble at me and I duck, laughing. There’s a nice silence as we take in the water and the forest and the way the black winter moss grows on the rocks.
“You’ve lost a lot of weight,” Riley says.
“Stress.” I shrug.
“I thought you’d be less stressed when Mom and Dad got bailed out,” He sighs. “Don’t tell me it’s about that boy.”
“I’m fine, Riles. Really. School’s been tough is all.”
“Whatever.” He pouts and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I can tell when you’re lying. You suck at it.”
“Just like you suck at being mature,” I singsong. Riley picks up a handful of pebbles and pelts them at me.
