Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  But I was still thinking about the first thing she’d said, seeing the band. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to this show and possibly see Spencer so soon. “Swallowed. That’s your boyfriend’s band? The one I saw on your Facebook page?”

  “You saw that? Awesome shot of Colby, wasn’t it? It’s actually Spencer’s band. You remember him, right?”

  My breath hitched at her words, and I nearly laughed at the question. Did I remember him? “It’s Spencer’s band,” I managed to echo.

  She nodded. “He put it together, and he writes most of the songs. They all go to Berklee College of Music, but they play down here in the summer. That’s how I met Colby, through Spencer. Spencer could probably be the singer himself. He has an awesome voice, but he’d rather stay in the background most of the time.”

  “Oh,” I said, digesting all she’d told me and surprisingly pleased at the news Spencer was in college. Despite how he’d hurt me, I wanted him to be successful. “Did you tell Spencer I was coming?” I couldn’t help asking, wondering how he might have reacted to the news.

  Her brow creased and then quickly smoothed out again. “Yeah. He was there when I told my folks. And, oh my God.” She leaned toward me. “My parents practically attacked me with questions about you. They really missed you guys.”

  I smiled politely as my stomach sank a little. I had to assume Spencer didn’t have anything to say about my impending visit. That stung more than it should have.

  Riley raised an eyebrow at me. “Did I mention that being on the guest list at Hollander’s means we get free drinks and don’t get carded?”

  Chuckling, I realized that I hadn’t agreed to go yet. So I did agree. I wanted to go, and I wouldn’t let my anxiety over seeing Spencer keep me away. He’d obviously never told Riley why we moved away so abruptly, and he hadn’t told her about our friendship either. Was he protecting me or just trying to forget it all? Did it even matter anymore? Not to him, apparently.

  I followed Riley as she showed me to my bedroom. I was feeling a little lost now, my bravado wavering after the conversation we’d just had.

  “Do you have a picture of your boyfriend?” she asked as she pulled some blankets out of a dresser.

  I took my cell phone from my pocket. She knew about Nate. This was more information about our lives that we’d related to each other over e-mail. I found a picture Tessa had taken of us when we were together at a football game in the fall.

  Riley looked over my shoulder and whistled. “He looks like a jock. How kinky,” she commented.

  I smiled, knowing she was joking. Nate looked as all-American as apple pie and Fenway franks. He was the furthest thing from kinky. He was respectful and careful with me. Just as I thought that, I understood how boring, and not hot or sexy that description of him was.

  “He’s cute but kind of clean-cut for my taste,” she added. “No offense. I’m sure he’s nice and all.”

  “He is nice,” I agreed as I swiped the picture off the screen. “Probably too nice,” I muttered.

  “Really?” Riley stopped on her way out of the room. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. He’s great.” Smiling, I turned away and started pulling my stuff out of my bag. “Nice is a good thing.”

  “Nice is good,” she agreed. “But naughty is better.” Riley winked and left the room,

  I frowned at myself before I sighed tiredly and sat down on the bed. More whitewashing. This time it was about Nate. I did it constantly, smiling and skating right over the truth.

  I didn’t want that to be my default setting anymore. If I was going to find whatever I was looking for here, I had to stop doing that. My honesty was one of the things I’d left behind here. Somehow I knew that getting it back was a prerequisite for finding what I needed. Without honesty, I was just wasting my time.

  I didn’t have my license yet when I lived here before, and driving around in Riley’s so-called shitbox, a twenty-year-old blue Honda Civic, I kept getting lost. I was able to get my bearings each time, but places weren’t where I expected them to be, or they looked different from what I remembered. An old church once stood where an organic grocery was now, and the penny candy store was a twenty-four-hour CVS. Everything was slightly different, but the place itself felt the same with its tourist-filled roads and salty ocean air.

  There were three places I needed to go before I left here: my old house, the dunes at the beach, and the service road where it happened. Those places held my best and worst memories, and I wasn’t quite ready to see them yet. Then there was a fourth place, the police station where I used to visit my dad. His old boss, Chief Reardon, retired two years ago and moved to Arizona. There was a new chief now, one that Uncle Russ didn’t like much. He joked with Mom about taking an early retirement or transferring to another precinct. I was undecided about visiting the station. I would have to play that one by ear.

  I grabbed a sandwich at a place near Riley’s job. Then I drove to a beach outside of town and sat by the water for a while, just letting my mind go blank, trying to enjoy the sounds of the seaside like I once did, letting the ocean lull me into a calmness that matched the rhythm of the gentle tide. It worked for a little while. I felt better, more grounded than I had before. Just being at the ocean felt like I was home, even if I hadn’t seen my actual home yet.

  I picked Riley up after work, and we went back to her apartment. She complained the whole way about her tired feet. Once we were inside, she started pulling her clothes off. “I smell like the inside of a fryolator,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  She was right, and I couldn’t decide if the smell was making me hungry or queasy. Finally I decided hungry as I pulled out the bag of chips that I couldn’t finish at lunch. After she showered, we hung out and watched television. Then we ordered some food and barely finished it before it was time to think about leaving for Hollander’s.

  “Get yourself ready,” Riley said. “I’m going to show you how much fun the summer can be for grown-ups around here.”

  If she saw the hesitation in my face, she didn’t show it. I was not a party girl, not even close. I knew from the pictures she’d posted online that Riley dressed to the nines when she went out. My usual uniform of jeans and a tank top would never pass muster with her. That was why I packed the black and pink halter top dress that Tessa made me buy last summer. I’d only worn it once but it was when Nate and I first started dating, and to this day, I still remembered his reaction. It was a cross between the predatory look of a shark and a tarsier monkey, those cute ones with the huge eyes.

  The skirt flared out and hit just above my knees, and the top showed off the muscles I’d developed in my shoulders and arms from swimming all summer. I pulled the dress on and decided to wear my hair down, spending time smoothing out the wisps that had begun to curl around my face.

  When I stepped out of the bathroom, Riley was standing there already dressed. “No fair.” She placed a hand on her hip. “You’re like a modern Anne of Green Gables. You’re the nice girl who gets the guy, and I’m the slutty secondary character who ends up alone but gets taught a valuable lesson.”

  Laughing, I took in her outfit. Riley stood before me in a pink miniskirt barely long enough to cover her ass and a metallic silver short-sleeved top. Her cropped black hair was combed forward toward her face and thin silver hoops dangled from her ears.

  “That’s what happens when you take fashion tips from Barbie,” I told her. She seemed to go for pink and glittery.

  “Seriously.” She grinned. “Could our outfits match our personalities any better?”

  The truth was she looked gorgeous in a trendy, hipster, I-couldn’t-give-two-shits-what-you-think-about-me kind of way. Our body types were similar, taller than average without an overabundance of curves, but narrow in a way that allowed clothes to camouflage what we lacked in cleavage and booty while still showing off our assets. The two of us were an interesting composition of equal but opposite parts.

  “I can’t w
ait to introduce you to Colby.” Riley grinned and grabbed her purse off the table.

  Smoothing my suddenly damp palms over the cool material of my dress, I knew I was being an idiot. Every time she mentioned Colby, thoughts of Spencer curled inside me, knotting my gut and bunching my nerves. It was so odd to be feeling anything at all that I was almost remorseful at how ridiculous my feelings were. They were like a ghost or a phantom, similar to the way people who have lost limbs claim to still feel them, even though they’re gone. That was what I felt for Spencer now, phantom emotions, not real ones. The only real feeling I should have had for him was ambivalence, and I’d do well to remember that.

  It was a quick drive to the harbor area. Hollander’s stood right on the dock. I recalled it being a popular summer place and apparently that hadn’t changed. It was more like a large tent than a building, with clear tarps for walls, rolled up and tied at the top. The people inside spilled out onto the dock. They also sat in boats tied to launches and on benches that lined the parking lot.

  “Are all these people here for Swallowed?” I asked as Riley crammed her Honda into an end spot that probably wasn’t really a parking spot at all.

  “Yup.” She gave me a smug grin.

  I looked back to the crowd. Something like pride swelled inside me for the obvious popularity of Spencer’s band, but I also felt relief. With this many people here, he probably wouldn’t even notice me.

  Grabbing my hand, Riley headed straight through the crowd, bumping shoulders as she worked us toward the entrance of the tent. The night air was humid but cool here by the water, and the sky was murky with clouds, a gauzy ceiling hovering above us.

  An overweight guy dressed in a white collared shirt that only emphasized his girth waved Riley by as she pulled me inside past the grumbling crowd. “Peetie loves me.” She called this to me over her shoulder. “I give him free onion rings when he comes into the restaurant. Not that he needs them.”

  She led me through the packed room, past a bar area to an empty section just left of a small stage set up in the back. It was set off with red velvet ropes, actual red velvet ropes like we were here to see Justin Timberlake or something.

  “Stay here,” she ordered. “I’ll get us some drinks. What do you want?”

  I shrugged. Anything was fine with me. Once Riley was gone, I took the opportunity to look around. It took a few minutes of watching the gathering crowd before I realized how many barely dressed women there were. I noticed just as much skin as I saw lifeguarding at the lake.

  Soon Riley returned with another girl by her side. She had bleached-blond hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. Her skin held a deep tan and her long nails were blood red.

  “This is Danica. She’s with Dick, oh, I mean Rick.” Riley chuckled. “Sorry about that. He’s the drummer.”

  The blonde named Danica smirked and elbowed Riley in the side. “Freudian slip, huh?” Then she shrugged at me. “He is a dick. But he’s a fucking adorable one.”

  “This is Sarah.” Riley handed me a bottle of beer. “This is all that’s free tonight. Sorry. The bartender is being an asshole because it’s so packed. Says the owner told him no freebies.”

  “This is great. Thanks.” I hated beer, but I took a sip because she went to the trouble of getting it for me. Just as I was about to ask what time the band came on, the lights dimmed and the crowd cheered and whistled. When the stage remained empty for a few more minutes, the volume of the cheers increased with the crowd’s impatience. The wait was fueling my nerves too. Suddenly, the beer didn’t taste so bad.

  More girlish screams signaled the band’s imminent arrival. Beside me, Riley grabbed my arm and jumped up and down with excitement. The drummer stepped onstage and sat down behind his drum kit. He was followed by another unrecognizable figure, who walked to the other side of the stage.

  Then Colby came on. I recognized him by his picture, but Riley’s grip tightening on my forearm offered another clue. He wore a fitted black T-shirt that outlined his muscular chest. Tattoos shadowed his arms, and his hair fell over his face in long waves as he approached the microphone. The crowd cheered for him, but their volume increased considerably when the last member of the band appeared, walking slowly to his spot to the right of Colby and directly in front of where we stood.

  My whole body became alert as I recognized his familiar posture, tall and strong with his legs set slightly apart, and his arms cradling the guitar that draped down over his hips. Thick dark hair was pushed back from his face, emphasizing the hard curve of his jaw and the shadows below his sharp cheekbones. He was taller than the other guys, and broader too. I could see why the girls were swooning. Spencer was beautiful to look at as a kid, but as a man he was absolutely devastating.

  He approached the microphone in front of his spot and began a countdown in a low voice. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in five long years, and it sent chills through me. When he reached four, his arm slammed down and his guitar exploded with noise. The entire place became electrified. When Colby sang the first words in a voice that was rough and edgy, a perfect rock tone, the whole place started to vibrate.

  Riley danced happily beside me, her gaze glued to her boyfriend. Mine was glued to Spencer. My chest ached as I watched him standing near the back, completely absorbed in the music he was playing. I’d expected it to be hard to see him tonight, but I wasn’t prepared to mourn so strongly for something that never was. Regret weighed me down and I let myself feel it, hoping it would go away once I gave in to it, and knowing I couldn’t let it show, not to anyone.

  As the night wore on, the songs varied from fast to slow but they all seemed to have a common theme. They were about disillusionment, pain, loss, and ultimately survival. If Riley hadn’t told me, I could have guessed that Spencer had written them all. They spoke of the terrible things he’d told me happened to him.

  One particular song seemed to be about a boy who lost everything and wondered why he continued to live when he felt so dead inside. My eyes teared up during that one. It was filled with such raw pain. But the entire time, Spencer stood in the background and either looked down or above the crowd, never focusing on any one thing. I wondered if he even knew we were standing here. He didn’t acknowledge us or anyone else.

  After an hour and a half, when it seemed like the show was wrapping up, Colby stepped up to the microphone. The room quieted, and he waited for silence before he spoke.

  “Sometimes my buddy Spence decides to grace us with his voice.”

  Behind me, a group of girls went crazy screaming.

  “What the hell?” Riley cringed with her hands over her ears.

  “He’s been doing a cover with his girl Annabelle for a while,” Colby continued, “and since she’s in town, they decided to end the show with it tonight.” With that, he stepped back and a beautiful girl, tall with long brown hair that was pulled to the side and draped over one shoulder, walked onstage. The crowd cheered again, but this time the screeching girls were less enthusiastic.

  Riley took my arm and leaned in close. “They sing that Damien Rice song, ‘Volcanoes.’ Do you know it? It gives me chills every time. Just Spencer’s guitar and their voices.”

  “That’s his girlfriend?” I asked as I watched her move beside him.

  Behind us, Danica snorted out a laugh. “She wishes.”

  “Closer to a friend with benefits,” Riley clarified, “who wants more and acts like she owns him when she’s around. But Spencer isn’t really into relationships. Not when he’s got girls panting for him after every show.”

  “Also, she’s a bitch,” Danica added.

  Riley gave Danica a disapproving look.

  “What? She is.”

  “Yeah, okay, she’s a raging bitch, actually.” Riley sighed. “But she’s better than the skanky groupies he picks up when she’s not around.”

  The more they talked, the less I liked what I heard. Actually, I hated it all, even though I hungrily drank in every word. But I c
ouldn’t dwell on how it made me feel because my attention was drawn to the duet that had begun. It was melodic and beautiful.

  Spencer and Annabelle looked at each other with a combination of sadness and longing. Even though it was hard to watch Spencer singing so intimately with the girl he was obviously sleeping with, his silky voice held me there, as did the notes he played with those long, confident fingers.

  I was fooling myself to think I didn’t care about him anymore. There would be no closure for me with Spencer. His loss was one I would carry with me forever because I’d not only lost him, I’d lost the dream of him, which in a way was the greater loss.

  When the show ended, a group of anxious girls stood by the door next to the stage. Amused, Riley pointed at them. “Ben’s gonna have a good night.”

  I assumed that was because she and Danica had laid claim to Colby and Rick, and since Annabelle was here with Spencer, Ben the bass player was the only band member up for grabs. The fact that Spencer would normally be prey for them had me examining them more closely, trying to picture him with any one of them. They couldn’t have been more different from me.

  My hopes of going unnoticed by Spencer tonight were dashed when Riley and Danica announced that we were all going to hang out here tonight, if the fan girls didn’t annoy everyone too much. I figured that group would include Spencer and his friend with benefits.

  Soon a buzz filled the room, signaling the arrival of the band. I watched over Riley’s shoulder as Colby came out first, offering the girls a cocky grin, but making a beeline for Riley. My line of sight was blocked when he picked her up and spun her around in the small, crowded space. Beyond them, I could just see the top of Ben and Rick’s heads as they talked to the girls gathering around them.

  Danica sat back and watched, waiting patiently for Rick to talk and flirt until he finally made his way to her. Rick was the shortest of them all, with spiky blond hair and a baby face that the girls obviously liked.

  Spencer was last to appear with Annabelle close behind him. My pulse raced as I watched him move in our direction, winding through the group of girls who tried to talk to him. He smiled shyly as Annabelle shot them dirty looks and laced her arm through his.