Call Me, Maybe

by Call Me, Maybe (retail) (epub)

  ‘I had no idea that’s something you do.’

  ‘I feel like there’s a lot of things you don’t know I do,’ he says.

  I sit up and blow on my coffee. ‘Probably. What’s the plan for today then?’

  ‘We can stay here, or take a drive, or go to LA, or –’

  ‘Take me to the Hollywood sign,’ I say, interrupting. He laughs.

  ‘Of course that’s what you want to do.’

  ‘Obviously that’s what I want to do.’

  ‘Okay. We’ll go to Griffith Park. We can go to the observatory as well. It’s super cool, and I haven’t been there for years.’

  ‘Can you see the sign, though? The sign is important.’

  ‘Yeah, you get a great view from there. It’ll look small, though.’

  ‘That’s fine. It’s for photos. Zoom lens.’

  He takes a long sip of coffee and laughs and rolls his eyes.

  ‘What? What’s that for?’

  ‘Just, the first thing you want to see is the Hollywood sign. I don’t know. It’s cute.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I laugh, picking up a pillow and lobbing it at him. He dodges. It lands on the floor. He picks it up and chucks it back.

  ‘So,’ he says. ‘Do we have some time to kill before we do the tourist thing?’

  ‘You tell me,’ I say.

  ‘I think we do.’ He takes the cup from my hands and puts it back on the nightstand. He does the same with his and pulls off his t-shirt. God, yes, I fancy him so much. I have an incredible urge to bite his shoulder, but I don’t. I lean forward and drop a kiss on it instead. He’s slightly salty. A little bit clammy. Dude definitely worked up a sweat on that run. He’s about to work up another. ‘Feel like taking a shower with me after this?’ he says. He’s all glinty eyes and smirk.

  ‘Insatiable,’ I say. ‘You’re absolutely insatiable. Aren’t you?’

  ‘Mmhmm. Yep,’ he says.

  * * *

  After a late breakfast, we get in the car and head for Griffith Park. The observatory’s at the top of a winding road and before we even get there I can see that the view out across the city is beautiful. We make for the right hand side of the building, and he doesn’t even laugh when I get altogether too excited about the white letters perched on the hill. We take photos of ourselves with the sign in the background. Someone offers to take one for us. In one I’ve stood up on my tiptoes and I’m kissing his cheek, so hard that his stubble prickles my lips. Sunlight reflects off his Aviators. My hair is untamed and a little wild. Looking at it makes me feel fizzy.

  Inside, we look through the solar telescope. We wander around the exhibits and watch the Tesla coil demonstration. Outside again, this time at the back of the building, we stare at the view across Downtown LA for a long time.

  ‘This place is beautiful,’ I say and I lace our fingers together. ‘The view is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.’

  He doesn’t say anything back. He just leans down and kisses the top of my head in response.

  Later on, back in Seal Beach, we stop at a diner for drinks, and take them a little way up the pier. The beach is busy. People sunbathe on the sand. On the flatter part behind us, a group of people have set up a game of volleyball and swat the ball over the net at each other. It looks strenuous in the heat. People paddle and swim in the ocean. Gulls skulk around, scavenging for scraps of food. Through the tiny gaps in the wood, I watch the sea slosh against the legs of the pier. The blistering sun beats down on my neck and I untie my hair to keep from getting burnt.

  ‘So how are you liking California so far?’ Jesse asks.

  ‘Well, twenty-four hours in and so far, so good,’ I tell him. ‘You’re lucky to live here.’

  ‘It certainly has more going for it than Omaha,’ he says.

  ‘You’re not tempted to go back then?’

  ‘God, no. It’d be weird now, I’ve lived in California for so long, Nebraska wouldn’t feel like home anymore.’

  ‘Do you have any family back there?’

  ‘My Grandma Ada lives there. Mom wanted her to move out here when my Grandpa Nev died, but she wouldn’t have it. Other than that, there’s my aunt and uncle and a couple of cousins, as far as I know… they might have moved. All other immediate family live in California. Oh, except for Adam. He’s in New York.’

  ‘Do you see much of them?’

  ‘Trav, yes. He’s not far away. Brandon and Lainey, when I can, and Adam…’ he trails off.

  ‘Adam?’ I press.

  ‘We don’t really talk.’ He wrinkles up his nose and squints out to sea. I know I need to tread carefully here; to straddle that line between curiosity and nosiness.

  ‘Oh?’ I say.

  He looks at me, like he’s debating whether or not he wants to talk.

  ‘Do you want to know what happened?’ he says, eventually, and it’s like he can read my mind.

  ‘Only if you want to share it,’ I say, but of course I want to know.

  He takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly before talking. ‘Franko ended because I quit,’ he says, simply.

  What? This is brand new information. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything, and neither does he look at me.

  ‘I loved it when we first started, you know? It was seriously awesome. We moved here. They yanked us out of school. We lived in a big house in a nice part of LA, a world away from where we grew up in Omaha. We came here having never seen the ocean before, and the first day we arrived, they brought us to the beach, and I have this vivid memory of the first time I ever stood in the ocean. Anyway, we got to spend every day making music, and doing shows, and meeting people. The record label threw money and promotion behind us. We got passports. We got to travel. What kid wouldn’t love that, right?’

  He takes a sip of his drink and pushes back his hair. ‘But then, slowly, Dad turned into this crazy megalomaniac. By the time we made the second album, he’d… well, he’d completely switched from how he was in Omaha. He was just a normal guy when we were little kids.’ He shifts to face me a bit more to explain. ‘He was our manager, so in control of everything. Like, we had to run every single little thing past him. He got to decide what we did, and when we were allowed breaks – which was never, by the way – and how we sounded. He totally pushed us to make Now or Never the album that it was, and it turned out he didn’t know quite as much as he thought he did. Because obviously that album bombed. And I don’t think it’s where we’d have gone if we’d been left to our own devices a bit more.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember it didn’t do too well. I loved it, though.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, and squeezes my knee. ‘It pushed us all creatively, and I don’t regret that, because I learnt so much making it. But anyway, there we were, in a hotel in Berlin, having breakfast, and he came storming in with this magazine we were reviewed in. And it really wasn’t a good review. And he slammed it down on the table and just lost it.’

  ‘Shit. In front of everyone?’

  ‘Yeah. Nice, huh?’

  ‘Was your mum there? What did she do?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. She just sat there. I remember watching her stare into her cup of tea, and so wanting her to say something to him. Or make him stop, or do anything to diffuse it, but she didn’t. And this kind of thing had been going on for ages. Like, years, and it was the last straw because to be that young, and to have everything you’ve poured yourself into for months be shot down? Well, what you need is kindness, not public humiliation. So, I got up, walked out, packed up my shit and left. And that was that. I was only nineteen.’

  ‘As simple as that?’

  ‘God, no, there was nothing simple about it. Dad cut me off immediately. I got nothing for a long time. None of the royalties I was due… But that wasn’t really anything new either.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ he says, ruefully. ‘Let’s just say, we didn’t see a lot of the money we were making, even when we were doing well.’

 
; ‘No!’

  ‘Yeah. Our parents always had full financial control on account of us being minors. We got allowances, but it was definitely nothing like what it should have been. Dad said it was to keep us grounded and like regular kids, but really he just kept it.’

  ‘Wow. What a dick. Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s true. He’s a grade A asshole.’

  ‘So what did you do when you got back?’ The questions are coming thick and fast now.

  ‘I just got on with shit. I was staying… with someone, and we got an apartment and I just starting doing what I do now.’

  He was staying with someone. A girl? Must be. There was a clear and distinct hesitation when he told me. Suddenly I’m not sure I want to know much more, but at the same time, I want to know everything about him.

  ‘Were your family cross?’

  ‘Uh, yeah. Travis was okay. Disappointed, but he knew things weren’t great. Brandon was gutted and Mom was apparently upset, but I didn’t see her, or Brandon actually, for months, so I don’t know if that’s true or if Dad just used it as a guilt tactic.’ He shrugs. ‘Adam was super mad, though. I don’t know if he’s ever really gotten over it. He thought I ended his career. The day I left, we sort of got into a fight over it.’

  ‘What, like, an actual tussle?’

  ‘Yeah. He shoved me against a wall and called me a stupid fucking asshole. So I retaliated and Travis ended up intervening. It was just frustration and anger and pent-up hormones, really, but we’d never fought like that before, so… definitely not my finest moment.’

  ‘And your dad?’

  ‘Dad was just afraid he’d have to go back to being a car salesman. Not that selling cars is a bad profession, but he always was one to dream big. He didn’t have to though, because he bought a house in Anaheim, and Mom went back to teaching.’

  ‘So he nicked all your royalties, bought a house, and then what?’ I sound incredulous.

  Jesse laughs. ‘He took “early retirement”,’ he says, making air quotes. ‘I don’t know what he does. Genuinely, no idea. I mean, I guess he must do something, but I don’t know what. Can’t imagine those royalty checks are supporting them these days.’ He sinks back in the seat and rests his legs on the side of the pier, crossing them at his ankles.

  ‘Maybe he sells cars in secret?’ I say, nudging his arm.

  ‘Maybe he does.’

  ‘So you don’t see them then?’

  ‘Not really,’ he shakes his head. ‘Thanksgiving, Christmas. Last time I saw them together was when Nancy turned two. Mom sometimes drops by. Dad never does. And if I go over there, it’s small talk, nothing particularly meaningful. We wouldn’t, for instance, go to a bar or anything like that. There is no father-son bonding time.’

  ‘That doesn’t really sound like he’s put the past behind him,’ I say.

  Jesse snorts. ‘You think?’

  ‘And are you okay with that?’

  ‘It is what it is,’ he says, shrugging.

  I can’t imagine it. Really, I can’t. I shake my cup and the remaining ice rattles around. Mainly I just think it’s all a bit sad. I don’t know how I’d feel if I was so obviously used as cash cow by my parents, but my hunch is, not good. And then to have to deal with all that rejection on top of it. Walking away from everything familiar like that can’t have been easy either; getting on a plane and having to start over when you’ve barely finished being a kid, without any real transition into adulthood. I sit there and polish the lenses of my sunglasses, and try to imagine my own parents behaving like that, but I can’t fathom it. They’re a funny pair, definitely stuck in their ways, and there have been times when I’ve done things they would rather I hadn’t. Mum might have pursed her lips and made a comment and Dad might have shaken his head and looked disappointed. But they’d never have cut me off because of it. They’d never cut me off for anything.

  ‘Anyway,’ he says, shrugging. ‘Now you know. What about you? Any weird skeletons in your family closet?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I shrug. ‘My aunt had it off with a vicar once. They had an affair for a bit, but that’s it. We’re very ordinary.’

  I’m not downplaying it. We are. Dad’s an accountant. Mum’s a housewife. I grew up in a nineteen-thirties semi in Amersham. They still live there. The house is too big for just the two of them, but they’ll never move. Mum’s garden is far too well established for that. Jesse laughs harder than my comment deserves.

  ‘Ordinary is nice though, right? You know where you are with ordinary. Not that you’re ordinary.’

  ‘Good save,’ I say, twisting myself towards him. I lean my head on my hand and watch him slurp up the remaining tea in his cup.

  ‘Do you get on with your parents?’ he asks.

  ‘Yeah, well enough.’

  ‘See them often?’

  ‘Not as much as I probably should,’ I admit, feeling guilty that the last time I went back to visit was weeks ago. ‘I wouldn’t say we are massively close.’

  ‘Have you told them that you’re out here?’ he asks.

  ‘They know I’m in California, but they don’t know I’m with you,’ I say, shifting on my bum.

  ‘You didn’t tell them?’

  ‘Not yet.’ I shake my head. ‘There’d be a lot of questions. I mean, can you imagine that conversation? Mum, Dad, just FYI, I’m going to spend two weeks with the bass player from that band I used to like when I was a teenager.’

  ‘Well, if you put it like that then, sure, of course there’d be questions.’

  ‘Do you think I should have told them?’

  ‘Of course. That’s just common sense, right? What if I turned out to be some kind of murderous asshole who was luring you to your death?’ He pauses and looks me right in the eye, ‘I’m not, by the way.’

  I laugh. ‘You know, call me naive, but I just didn’t get psycho killer vibes from you.’ I nudge his arm, ‘I will tell them. Don’t worry.’

  He nudges me back. ‘I’m not worried. Shall we get going?’

  ‘Sure.’ I haul myself up, throw my cup in the bin. ‘Hey,’ I say. ‘The observatory was brilliant.’

  ‘Ah, but did the sign live up to expectations?’

  ‘The sign was pretty cool, too.’

  * * *

  ‘Cassie,’ he whispers, much later on, just as I am falling asleep.

  ‘Mmhmm?’

  ‘All that stuff I told you earlier, about my dad and about the money thing.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I haven’t told anyone that before. Ever.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I just haven’t felt like I wanted to before today. Someone once told me I was closed up. So I’m really trying not to be.’

  I reach behind and pat his arm, sleepily.

  ‘I’m pleased you felt like you could tell me.’

  ‘You’ve made it easy though,’ he continues. ‘Even before you came out here and we were just talking on the internet I wanted to tell you stuff. I don’t know, it’s probably stupid.’

  I roll over so we are facing each other. My eyes have adjusted and his look glassy in the darkness.

  ‘It’s not stupid. But I don’t understand why you’d keep it to yourself. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Sounds like things were pretty shitty for you, to be honest.’

  ‘Usually I just try not to think too much about it. If I went into detail, people would have questions. So I just said we were dropped. Seems like that’s easier to swallow. Anyway, no one’s asked for years.’

  ‘But there must be some people outside your family who knew? People you dated? No?’

  ‘No one outside my family knows the full extent of it, other than you,’ he repeats. ‘And I think Adam – and probably Brandon – would have a different take on it. Adam’s similar to Dad, so… and Brandon was too young to know, really. Plus, he was kind of babied a little. Especially by Mom.’

  ‘I think that probably h
appens quite a lot with the youngest. Rachel’s younger sister Marie is a bit like that.’

  He yawns. ‘I think it’s because I don’t feel as if there’s an agenda with you.’

  He’s wrong about that. There’s absolutely an agenda. I want him to fall completely in love with me, the way I am with him. I want us to laugh at that stupid giant distance and make it work. I want the babies Marie joked about when we went for tapas. But I just can’t seem to say any of it yet. I can’t even hint at it. I lose my nerve every time.

  He carries on. ‘And when we hung out in London, there was not one single time when you seemed like you wanted something from me. We just seemed to have a really great time.’

  ‘Like we are now?’ I ask.

  ‘Like we are now.’

  ‘Well, for what it’s worth, when I added you on Facebook, I didn’t do it expecting all this to happen.’

  ‘Right? It’s been surprising.’

  I can feel my eyes getting heavy. It’s been a full-on day, tiring both physically and mentally. I think probably for both of us.

  ‘Do you feel lighter for telling me?’ I ask.

  ‘I think so.’

  I push my arm under his pillow, scoop him closer to me, kiss his forehead and stroke back his hair the way he did mine yesterday when I was napping.

  ‘Good,’ I whisper. ‘Maybe you’re a little less closed up for it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jesse

  It’s the second morning Cassie’s been here and we’re sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast and deciding how to spend the day.

  ‘Okay, so we can tick off the Hollywood sign and Griffith Observatory. What do you feel like seeing today?’

  She wraps her hand around her mug and taps her fingernails against it.

  ‘I want you to take me somewhere you love to go,’ she says. ‘Show me the things you love about living here.’

  ‘Hmm,’ I say, picking up a piece of toast from the pile we are sharing and biting off the corner. ‘So many options.’

  ‘Mmhmm.’

  ‘Okay, well there’s an awesome music store over in Hollywood. I like to hang out in there sometimes and just sift through old records.’