by S. H. Kolee
"Sarah," I said, "I don't want to be dragging tomorrow at Colette's."
Colette's was the French cafe that I worked at, although the only thing that made it French were the croissants and the owner's insistence that it was French. It was more a diner than anything else but the owner, Colleen, insisted on calling it a cafe. Colleen also insisted on wearing a beret and had initially tried to make her employees wear berets as well, but we had all revolted. Colleen had opened up Colette's years ago and it was now an institution at Rochester for students and locals alike. Colleen had named the cafe after herself. The French version of herself, anyways. Ironically, Colleen had never even been to France.
"Come on," urged Jenny. "Please! Just go for a few drinks. Not enough to be hung over."
"Where's your glass of wine?" his deep voice asked.
"Huh?" I asked. I then looked down at my empty hands. I had forgotten that I had used the excuse of getting my glass of wine for going into the kitchen and escaping his close proximity. "Oh, uh...I drank it."
"That means you're ready for another," Simon replied with a grin. "Let me buy you one at the bar."
"No thanks," I snapped. "I'm not a big drinker."
Sarah creased her forehead, examining me closely. She was probably wondering why my reaction was so out of proportion with Simon being nice. But the way he said it didn't seem nice. It seemed...too personal. I didn't want him to have any expectations.
"I promise I'll get you home at a decent hour," Marcus said, giving me a small smile. "I need to get up early too for soccer practice." Marcus played in a club soccer league, although besides practicing they didn't seem to do much else. They only played other teams once every couple of months.
I felt everyone's eyes on me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. One particular set of blue eyes made me the most uncomfortable but I refused to look in their direction.
I threw up my hands in defeat with a sigh. "Fine, I'll go. There's only so much peer pressure a girl can take. I feel like I'm in an after school special."
"Yay!" squealed Sarah. "I feel like getting a little crazy tonight."
Grant checked his watch. "It's pretty early. Why don't we head down there around nine-thirty since some of us are making it an early night? We've still got a while and I hear the spaghetti calling my name again. You make a mean meat sauce, Caitlin."
"Hey," Sarah protested. "How do you know Caitlin made it? It could've been me."
Grant laughed, "Because I've tasted your cooking."
"Sarah's made really good cookies before," defended Jenny. She turned to Sarah. "What were they again? There were like pretzels and stuff in it."
Sarah pouted. "Those were Caitlin's garbage cookies."
I called them my garbage cookies because I threw tons of stuff in it, like pretzels, peanuts, toffee and anything else that sounded good and I had on hand. Each batch was a little different.
"She licked the spoon though," I joked. "Oh, and she cracked the eggs." I didn't mention that Sarah had to crack double the amount of eggs I needed because half of the time she crushed them in the process and got so much shell in the bowl that it was easier just to crack another egg.
"I'll have to try these garbage cookies sometime," Simon said, patting his stomach. "I'm a sucker for anything sweet, especially cookies."
"Oh, I haven't made them in a long time. I'll probably never make them again," I said emphatically. A little irrationally, I had to admit.
Simon burst out laughing, not the reaction I was going for. "I'm sure I can convince you to make them again," he said with a sly grin.
Sarah poked me in the side. "You're being weird," she announced.
Thanks. Thanks a lot, Sarah, I thought. Traitor.
"She's weird a lot," Jenny chirped. Another traitor. "That's her charm. You'll get used to it, Simon."
"I'm looking forward to it," Simon replied, looking at me for the first time with no humor or laughter. He just locked his eyes with mine and I felt that squirming in my stomach again. Suddenly I saw a flash of his face crumpled with agony. I looked away quickly, banishing the memory of my vision.
"You guys are the weird ones," I murmured in protest, trying to clear my head.
"Well, this weirdo is getting more spaghetti," Grant said, getting up and heading over to the table. This broke up the talk about weirdness and everyone settled back into an easy conversation.
The next hour was spent filling Simon in on all the gossip about Maxwell University, including who was dating whom, who was sleeping with whom, and which professors were the worst. I participated in the conversation, forcing myself to smile and talk easily. The more I forced myself, the more natural it felt. I could do this. Simon was just another guy. Visions and suggestive comments aside, he seemed like someone I could be friends with. He was funny and definitely easy to look at. And just because it seemed like he was flirting with me didn't mean anything. Simon seemed like the type to flirt with everyone and it would be a mistake to take it to heart.
I decided that Simon and I were going to be friends. It wasn't as if I could ignore him. He was Grant's cousin, he was living downstairs at the moment and was now a member of the band. The five of us had our lives intertwined, spending most of our free time together. We had been a tight group since the beginning of our junior year. Simon would just be the sixth member of our group. A friend, nothing more.
With that settled, I found myself laughing a little easier, taking Simon's jokes as just that - jokes. If he looked at me a little too often and for a little too long, I pretended not to notice.
CHAPTER TWO
Around nine-thirty we headed down to the East End. It was only a five minute walk from our apartment, but the October chill made the walk seem longer. I lagged behind the group with Sarah.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, with a concerned look on her face. "All joking aside, you are acting a little weird."
"I'm fine, Sarah, really," I assured her. "It's just been a long week."
"Okay," Sarah said, not looking convinced. "It's not...it doesn't have anything to do with...you know. Does it?"
I forced a laugh. "No, it's nothing like that. Seriously, I'm just a little tired. I'll only stay at the East End for a little bit and then go home and go to bed. I'll be fine tomorrow."
"Okay..." Sarah said, not seeming to completely accept my excuse. "But if you're not telling me something, I'm gonna be mad."
I ignored her warning and grabbed her arm. "Hey, we're here. Come on." I dragged her to catch up with the group and greeted Charlie, the bouncer at the bar. He was at his usual stance just outside the door.
"Hi Charlie," I said smiling. "Glad to see you're dressed for the weather, as usual." No matter the season, Charlie always wore a white short-sleeved t-shirt. I'd seen him standing there all night in the snow with nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, seemingly impervious to the cold. He was tall and heavily muscled. Maybe all his muscles kept him warm.
"This is nothing, honey," Charlie replied with an easy grin. "I would take my shirt off if Joel would let me get away with it."
The guys fist bumped Charlie, or whatever it is that guys greet each other with, while Jenny, Sarah and I gave him a hug. The East End was like a second home since we spent so much time there, especially Grant and Marcus who spent a lot of time practicing there during the daytime. Charlie already seemed to know Simon and I reminded myself that even though we had just met him tonight, he had arrived a couple of days ago and they had already spent some time practicing at the East End.
We filed in, relieved to be in the warmth of the bar. There were already a good amount of people inside, although it was still early. We headed over to an empty table and settled in, taking off our coats and draping them on the back of our chairs. The East End had a coat check, but it was never really in use unless the guys were playing, since it got packed to the walls then.
The East End was a large bar, with a decent-sized stage in the back. Booths lined the walls and tables were spread out,
although they were pushed back when the stage was in use to make a standing area in front. There was a separate game room, with pool tables, dart boards and video games. Music was being piped in, but not to a level where you couldn't have a conversation. It was a great venue for a band and had enough room to house the Henchmen fans that went crazy during their shows.
I wondered how receptive they would be to a new member. There had been lots of complaints about the lack of shows since the departure of Mike and Abe. I glanced over at Simon, who was laughing about something with Jenny. Who was I kidding? There was no way the fans wouldn't eat up Simon, especially the girls, no matter what he sounded like. And I knew Grant was serious enough about the band that he wouldn't let Simon join just because they were related. Simon had to be good.
Just then, Simon turned to look at me. Embarrassed that I had been caught staring at him, I quickly turned away and spoke to Sarah, who was sitting beside me.
"Seriously, only a couple of drinks and I'm leaving," I warned in a low voice. "I'm telling you now because I don't want you twisting my arm later, trying to make me stay."
Even though I enjoyed hanging out with my friends, I was acutely aware that I needed alone time as well. Sarah enjoyed being constantly surrounded by people, which was good for me because it forced me to interact more than I would have on my own, and I found that I actually enjoyed it. But I also needed time to just decompress on my own. When I was alone, I didn't have to worry that I might say something that would reveal how much of a weirdo I really was.
"Okay, I promise I won't," Sarah said, laughing. "Anyway, how could little ol' me twist your arm?"
"Ha," I said with a disbelieving snort. "You have your ways."
Sarah was interrupted from having to defend her innocence by Janice. Janice had been working at the East End for ages. I guessed that she looked older than she actually was, having lived hard and fast. Her raspy voice was evidence of her heavy smoking habit, and her heavy makeup aged her even more. But she was a sweetheart and was a fixture at the East End, just like Charlie.
"Hi y'all," she drawled. "What'll you be having?"
"Let's get a couple pitchers of beer," Grant said, looking around the table. "How about Brooklyn Lager?" Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Gotcha," Janice replied. She looked over at Jenny. "How about you, little thing?"
Jenny pouted. She was the only one out of our group that wasn't twenty-one yet. Fortunately, her birthday was only a couple of weeks away, but in the meantime there was no way Janice was serving her alcohol. The East End had a policy of admitting kids eighteen and older but you still had to be twenty-one to drink. They made the underage kids wear a neon green bracelet to differentiate them, but Jenny usually escaped having to wear one since she was a regular. That being said, since she was a regular, all the workers knew she was under twenty-one and there was no way she was being served. That didn't stop her from trying every time.
"Oh, fine," Jenny relented. "I'll have a diet coke. But my birthday is coming up soon. And then I'm going to blow it out!"
Janice chuckled. "Sure thing, little thing. But until then, diet coke it is."
As Janice walked away, Sarah leaned forward. "How much have you guys practiced together already?" she asked.
"We jammed yesterday and the day before," Marcus answered. "But like Grant said earlier, I visited him a few times this past summer and we practiced a lot then. It was easy since Simon lives so close to Grant."
Grant had mentioned earlier that he and Simon lived in neighboring towns in Connecticut and Marcus was pretty close by in New Jersey. In fact, all of us were East Coasters, although Jenny was much further down south in Florida. Sarah lived in Westchester, right outside of New York City. I had spent a lot of time at her house, since I avoided my home as much as possible. My father didn't make it easy to be under his roof and it was just easier to stay at Sarah's house. Her life was so normal. Her parents were normal. Her younger sister was normal. I appreciated normal as much as I could get.
"I'm so excited to hear you guys play," squealed Jenny with enthusiasm. Marcus smiled as he looked at Jenny. Her enthusiasm was as much a part of her as was his quiet demeanor. It really was a shame that Marcus couldn't get the guts to ask her out.
"Yeah," Sarah chimed in. "And I bet Joel can't wait to start raking in the dough again." She looked over at Grant. "All the girls have been missing your drumming solos." She smiled coyly. The flirtatious lilt in her voice unmistakable and Grant grinned, winking at her.
"What about you?" Simon asked with a half-grin, leaning slightly forward to look at me since Marcus was sitting between us. "Are you excited about hearing the reinvention of the Henchmen?"
I shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm sure you guys will be good," I said noncommittally.
"Good?" Grant exclaimed. "We're great! Even better than before. Abe was a great singer, but Simon kills it. Plus he blows Mike out of the water on guitar. Even Joel was impressed when we were practicing yesterday. And he's never impressed."
Simon smiled. "We don't want to build up their expectations too much and set them up for disappointment. Let's not make me the second coming of Jim Morrison. We make a good team, but we'll see how the fans react."
Simon's modesty was a strange mix with his arrogance. When I had just decided that he was full of himself, he would make a self-deprecating comment that would endear me to him.
Friends, I thought to myself emphatically. Just friends.
Janice interrupted the conversation by setting two pitchers of beer on the table alongside five glasses. "I'll be right back with your soda, honey," she said to Jenny and walked back to the bar.
Grant and Simon started pouring beers, joking about who poured the best glass with the least amount of foam.
"Here," Simon said, passing a beer to me, reaching over Marcus. "I promised to buy you a drink."
"Well, technically you haven't paid for the drink yet, but we'll call it even," I said with a smile. Friends.
Simon laughed. "Well, to make sure it counts I'll pay for all the pitchers tonight."
"You don't need to do that to impress Caitlin," Jenny said with a impish grin. "Nothing impresses her."
Sarah snorted and I shot her a dirty look. I turned back to Jenny. "Lots of things impress me. Your silence would impress me."
Simon grinned. "I'll have to think of some ways to impress you then."
I cleared my throat self-consciously. I needed to steer this back into the friend zone. "So, how's the apartment search going?" I asked, trying to change the topic.
"Not so great," Simon answered. "Since it's already a couple of months into the school year, there doesn't seem to be a lot of availability. I've looked at a few places but unless I want cockroaches as roommates, I'll have to keep looking."
"I keep telling him that he can stay as long as he wants at our place," Grant said.
"Yeah, it's nice having someone around who actually does the dishes," Marcus joked.
"Hey, I do the dishes!" Grant protested. "I don't know why they need to be done the same day as I use them."
"Or the same week," Marcus deadpanned.
Simon laughed. "I really want to get my stuff out of storage and have my own space. I really appreciate Grant and Marcus putting me up, but I'm sure they want full use of their couch."
"If it ever gets too crowded, one of you can stay at our place," Sarah said, winking at Grant. Grant grinned in return. Although he never seemed to actively encourage Sarah's flirtation, he seemed to enjoy the attention.
"Sure," I said dryly. "You'll just have permanent back injuries from our couch." Our couch was a futon and was well worn. Although it was comfortable enough to sit on, sleeping on it was a different matter. There were a few strategically placed springs that jutted out, ensuring anyone who slept there an impending spinal injury.
"No kidding," Jenny concurred. "I've tried it and I don't recommend it if you value your back."
Janice came back and plunked a glass of s
oda in front of Jenny. "Someone looking for an apartment?" she asked.
"I am," Simon answered. "You know of anything?"
Janice was a valuable source of information since she overheard everything at the East End. She seemed to know more than anyone else about the lives of Maxwell students.
"Sherry Campbell is moving out of her place," Janice informed us. "She's flunking out and her parents are yanking her back home to go to school there. She only came back this year on a trial basis and she's already messin' up so she's gone."
"That's right on our street!" Sarah squealed. "Perfect!"
Sherry Campbell lived down the street from us on Martin Street. She was a nice girl but she partied way too hard. She came from a very affluent family in Boston and it didn't seem as though she took school very seriously. Even though she was only a sophomore, she had lived in an off-campus apartment since her freshman year, somehow circumventing the rule that first year students had to live in campus housing. I'm sure her parents' money had something to do with it. We had gotten to know her since we had started living on Martin Street at the same time, but she was a bit too much of a hardcore party girl for me.
"Do you know when she's moving out?" Simon asked.
"End of the month," Janice replied. "Her parents are looking for someone to sublet for the rest of the school year."
"Have you guys ever been to her apartment?" Simon asked, but looking directly at me.
"Yeah, we've been there for a couple of parties," I replied. "It's really nice. Probably the nicest apartment on our block. It's a two bedroom but she's lived there alone since her roommate transferred last year after the first semester. It has a killer kitchen too."
Simon smiled. "Maybe you can make your garbage cookies for me there."
I coughed mid-sip of my beer. "Uh, let's see if you actually get the apartment first."
"Here, let me give you Sherry's number," Sarah said, scrolling through her cell phone. "I have it saved."
Simon pulled out his cell phone and took the number that Sarah dictated.
