Summer Love (Senior Year (Vol. 1))

by Marysue Hobika

  “I’m surviving, all right.”

  “It looked to me like you’ve been doing fine. Carly’s a friend of yours?”

  “Why?” There was an edge to my voice. Did he call me over here so I could give him inside information on Carly? Was he interested in her? I tensed. Maybe coming over was a bad idea.

  “Just wondering.”

  “Yeah, we’re friends,” I answered, trying not to think the worst, but not offering much of a response.

  “She sure can sing.” Connor’s eyes filled with admiration.

  “Yeah.” If Connor kept this up, I was outta here. I didn’t come here to talk about Carly.

  “Do you want to play Xbox?”

  “Sure.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I guess he only wanted to hang out after all.

  We played Xbox for over an hour. We joked around as if it had only been days, not months, since we last hung out. Hanging with Connor was exactly what I needed. It was cool how guys could just pick up where they left off without the need to question things. I’d missed this last year, while I was locked away in my room. I hadn’t bothered to make any real friends last year at Crownwood High. I hadn’t wanted to put in any effort. I didn’t see the point. Those closest to you only hurt and disappointed you.

  “Damn, all this gaming is making me hungry. Let’s go see what we can find,” said Connor.

  We raced up the stairs, shoving and pushing each other. We searched the cupboards and the fridge, but we couldn’t find anything to eat except for healthy shit.

  Connor grabbed his keys. “Come on, let’s get some slices. I need real food.”

  My wallet had money from tutoring, and even though I was saving for a car, I didn’t think a slice of pizza would dip into my savings too much. “Awesome. I’m starving.”

  A few minutes later we pulled into Giovanni’s Pizzeria. They had an all-day special. Two slices and a large soda for $4.00. We sat down to eat.

  “How’d you like Crownwood High? Is it as bad as everyone says?”

  “No.” All the boys who went to St. Paul’s joked about how bad we thought public schools were. Most of us had been going to private schools our whole lives and that left us prejudged against the rest of the population. We thought the classes at the public schools were overcrowded and teachers had to dumb things down. Having experienced it, it wasn’t bad at all.

  “I bet you like going to school with chicks again. Going to school with only boys is kinda boring.”

  “Yeah, but girls talk too much.” I thought back to the girls who followed me around the first couple of weeks of school, asking me all sorts of questions. Eventually when I continued to give them the cold shoulder, they gave up and left me alone. However, groups of giggling girls filled the hallway all year long and they drove me crazy.

  “You’re right, my sister never shuts up.”

  I laughed. I knew Connor’s little sister, Courtney. She was in middle school and she never let up. Whenever I’d hung out at his house she’d pester us, asking us what we were doing and if she could join us. I wondered where she was today. His house had seemed quiet.

  “Still, you had to have hit it once or twice,” said Connor, not letting the subject drop.

  “Nay. Girls are too much work. I don’t have the time. I worked all last year.”

  “My mom said she saw you at Trader Joe’s. She has a thing for organic shit.”

  “Lots of people do.”

  A group of bubbly girls entered just as we were finishing. Connor asked me if I knew any of them.

  “I know ‘em.”

  “Introduce me. The redhead is hot.”

  “I can’t. I know who they are, but I don’t know them.” I emphasized the word “know.”

  Connor looked at me in disbelief. “Really? You have hot girls like that in your classes and you don’t even try to ask them out. Shit, dude. You feeling okay? I remember when you followed Harper around and wouldn’t give up until she agreed to go out with you.”

  “Times have changed. I guess I’m more into getting good grades and working to save money for college than getting laid.” After I broke up with Harper, I spent the following two months getting drunk and banging random chicks. That got old. Now I stayed as far away from girls as possible. They were trouble I didn’t need. Look what happened with Carly.

  “Hmm.” Connor studied me. He knew about my parents’ divorce, everyone did, but I’d never confided in him or anyone else. His parents were still happily married, so he couldn’t understand what it was like to wake up one day and discover everything your parents ever told you was a lie.

  We threw out our trash and left.

  “Where to now?” Connor asked, climbing into his car. “We can go back to my place. I don’t have anything until band practice at seven.”

  “Alright.” I had no plans for the rest of the day. I didn’t have to work, since I tutored.

  “Excellent.” Connor fiddled with the radio, searching for a song. Finally he found one he liked. “Tonight will be our third rehearsal with Carly. She has loads of talent. She’s going to be famous some day. What she does on her fiddle is hot as hell.” My blood boiled. I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Connor shifted in his seat. “Do you know if she has a boyfriend?”

  “Not that I know of.” My body went rigid.

  “I’m surprised you’re not going after her, dude. She’s smart, talented, and drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “Look, can we not talk about Carly. I already told you we’re just friends.”

  “Sure. But just so we’re clear, you wouldn’t mind then if I ask her out? She’s cool and I’d like to get to know her better.”

  Suddenly I was pissed. I did mind. I minded a lot. She wasn’t my girl, but I really hated the thought of seeing her with anyone else. Even a nice guy like Connor. What did this mean? I couldn’t tell him not to ask her out. I had no claim on her.

  “Have at it, bro. But I just remembered, I can’t hang out. I forgot there’s something I gotta do. Drop me off at home.” My answer came out clipped and borderline angry.

  Connor gave me a strange look. “Sure. Whatever you say, man.”

  Chapter Five

  Carly

  Nine o’clock in the morning on a Saturday was early for any high schooler, but I hardly noticed the time. I’d been going to orchestra rehearsals on Saturday mornings for as long as I could remember. It was all I knew. I was first chair, first violin. It was a prestigious position that I took seriously, and it required a lot of hours of practice in order to maintain. Someone was always vying for my spot.

  As rehearsal began and I pulled the bow across the strings, my thoughts drifted. Playing always cleared my mind and brought me peace, which was why I was surprised to discover my thoughts kept coming back around to a certain handsome, yet annoyingly broody, male. Why did Gavin act interested in me one minute, and then standoffish the next? What was his story? It would help me understand him better, if I knew. Was getting to know Gavin, something I wanted? Maybe. The few times he’d let his guard down, I’d glimpsed the real Gavin. He could be sweet when he wanted, like the day in the library when he’d apologized. And he was swankalishious, to borrow a word from Becca’s language. Rehearsal lasted an hour and a half. By the end, I’d decided that if ever given the opportunity, I’d like to uncover what secrets Gavin carried around with him.

  I packed my violin away, but my day wasn’t over. I was the concertmaster for the younger ensemble that would be filing in any minute. This helped pay for part of my tuition. Also it would look good on my application when I applied to music schools. I was hoping to stay right here in town and go to college at the Eastman School of Music. Helping the younger kids was one of my favorite things. I loved their enthusiasm. Teaching children to love music as much as I did was what I wanted to do.

  I greeted the students as they came in and took their seats. My role was to lead the warm up and act as a liaison between the performers and the conductor. When the conductor arr
ived, the orchestra was ready to play. I was always impressed by how much the kids improved each week. Someday I wanted the honor of being the one who lead students on this journey. Their sound filled the concert hall. Each song had a unique color to me. It is similar to people who have synesthesia, seeing each letter of the alphabet as a different color. Songs filled with movement were green, songs with a lot of bass were blue, and my favorite, slow romantic songs were a deep red. The hour flew as I listened to the sweet music.

  I waved to several students as they left, and even paused to talk to a few parents. Finally the hall was empty. Only Mr. Kinsler and I were left.

  “Do you have a second?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I wanted to know if you’ve thought any more about your senior recital?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t nailed down a date yet.” A senior recital was concert given by a serious music student, me, in order to share my musical growth and accomplishments with family, friends, and the community. It was also to thank and highlight some of the teachers I’d had. There’d be a small reception to follow. It was a big deal. However, I was hesitant for a lot of reasons. It made me miss my mom. Music was my mom’s area of expertise. She would have known what to do, what date to pick, and where to hold the recital. Arranging this on my own was overwhelming. And sad. Not to mention I didn’t like performing solos in front of crowds. I wasn’t sure if the recital was something I wanted or not.

  “Let me know if you need any help planning. I’d be happy to offer you assistance,” said Mr. Kinsler. I’d known him a long time and it was kind of him to offer.

  “Thanks. I will.”

  “Good.”

  I gathered my instrument and left. The day was already half over. Feeling hungry, I went straight home.

  “Hey, sweetie,” said my dad when I walked through the door. “How was rehearsal?”

  “Good.” I still hadn’t told him that I needed to start planning my senior recital. It wasn’t because I was worried what he’d think, I just wasn’t sure if I was into it or not.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I’m just hungry.” I opened the fridge and pulled out the ingredients for a sandwich.

  “What do you like better, playing in the orchestra or the band?” He looked at me thoughtfully.

  I’d been playing with the band for only a week. We practiced Monday through Friday. It seemed impossible to me that I’d chose it over something I’d been doing for the past fourteen years, but when my dad asked me I realized I would. The band had quickly replaced the spot in my heart previously occupied by the orchestra.

  “The band,” I blushed. I almost felt guilty because I worried what my mom would have thought.

  “I knew it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How so?”

  “Ever since I got back from my trip on Wednesday, I’ve noticed a difference in you. You’ve been walking around this place like you’re on cloud nine. I’ve never seen you so happy. I know you practice a lot, but it seems like you’ve been practicing even more than usual. And didn’t I overhear you tell Becca just yesterday that you couldn’t go to the mall with her because you wanted to work on a new piece. And it didn’t sound like Chopin.”

  “I can’t explain it, Dad.” I searched for the words. “It just fits.” My dad was right, I was happy. Karma was good for me. I’d found a place I belonged.

  My thoughts wandered to Gavin again. I wondered if he’d fit. Or were we too different? Would he be good for me?

  Chapter Six

  Gavin

  “Hey, Gav, I’m going to band practice. You want to come?” Nate yelled from the bottom of the stairs Monday evening.

  He’d asked me earlier if I wanted to tag along, but I was still undecided. I was in the middle of working on a drawing. Also I wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea for me to show my face at a band rehearsal. I hadn’t spoken to Connor since he asked me if it was okay for him to ask out Carly. Things were strained when he dropped me off at home. I probably owed him an apology, but I didn’t feel like giving him one. As far as things with Carly, I hadn’t seen her either. I wasn’t sure if she’d completely forgiven me for acting like a tool on our date. And for all I knew, Carly and Connor could be a happy couple by now.

  “Nah, I’m gonna stay home,” I said. My conscience was telling me to play it cool, so that’s what I did—just in case Carly was still pissed. I didn’t need any more girl drama.

  “Suit yourself,” he replied. The back door closed and I listened as Nate started his car.

  Sighing, I looked down at my sketchbook. I’d been composing and developing a new character, surrounded by light. She had large, dark eyes, long, flowing dark hair, and the face of an angel. The longer I stared at the her, the longer I understood why my vision was what it was—I couldn’t get Carly out of my head. She was appearing even in my sketches.

  “Shit,” I said aloud, closing the book and jumping up. The next thing I knew, I was showered and hurriedly threw on the only clean clothes I could find, a light gray T-shirt and jeans. Nate had already left, but it was only a couple of blocks to Ed’s house. I could bike there in minutes.

  As soon as my foot hit the bottom step, I froze. My heart sank as I recognized a familiar sound. I slowly walked into the family room and as suspected, my mom was sitting on the couch with a box of tissues. She must’ve come home while I was in the shower. She was supposed to be with Aunt Sue having a girls’ day/night out. Obviously, something had gone wrong. I didn’t want to admit it, but I had a pretty good idea what.

  “Mom, what are you doing home so early? I thought you were going out with Aunt Sue?” I said, sitting next to her on the couch. I hated crying, especially when it was my mom. I never knew what I was supposed to do or say. My stomach twisted up like a pretzel whenever the water works started to fly.

  Trying desperately to conceal her emotions, she dabbed at her eyes. “I didn’t feel like going to the movie, so I asked her to bring me home. And she did.”

  “Why? What happened?” I could tell right away that my mom was only telling me part of the truth. She was trying to spare my feelings, but I knew where this conversation was headed.

  “Nothing. I just felt like coming home.” Tears were still running down her face, and it was making me angry. There was only one thing, or one person, who caused my mom this much pain. My father. I rubbed my palms on my jeans.

  Trying to remain calm, I kept my voice free of emotion. “Mom. I know something happened tonight, so why don’t you just tell me. It will make both of us feel better.” With a shaky hand, I reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder.

  My mom placed her hand over mine. “What did I do to deserve a son like you?” She took a deep breath and her tears subsided. “Aunt Sue took me to dinner at Rick’s Steakhouse, a new place that opened up, thinking it would be drama-free. Little did we know that the instant our waitress took our order, in would walk,” she paused for a moment to blow her nose, “your father. And of course, he was with Cindy. It was like they were flaunting their newfound happiness right in front of my face. I couldn’t stand to sit there another second and look at her pregnant belly. I wanted to come home.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, giving her an awkward hug before standing up. My dad was the biggest asshole around and the hostility I felt toward him … let’s just say there was no love lost. The day I found out he was leaving my mom for a woman fifteen years his junior was the day I jumped into my car and purposely totaled it to work off some of my anger. Probably not the most mature thing to do and certainly not the brightest, but at the time, it was all I could come up with to make that piece of shit recognize how pissed off I was. Although the crash left me carless, I was fine to bum rides from friends. It sure beat the hell out of driving a car that he’d bought for me.

  To this day, I haven’t talked to him. I avoid and screen all of his calls. Forget about the unexpecte
d drop-ins. The instant I see him pull up, I’m out. I don’t have a goddamn thing to say to that snake. What kind of man walks out on his wife and family? He’s a selfish bastard. He never thought about us and how our lives would change. And I’m not just talking about not being able to afford the tuition at St’ Paul’s. He offered to keep paying, but there was no way I’d accept a dime from him and I wasn’t about to let that burden fall to my mom’s shoulders. So, I did the only thing I could. I transferred to the public high school. I’m talking about the bigger picture. My whole worldview changed. There were few things I believe in anymore. If I couldn’t trust my own father, whom could I trust? I don’t know if he thought I or Nate would be impressed by the fact that he was banging some younger chick, because the truth of it was simple: I hated him.

  “It’s not your fault.” My dad never deserved a woman of my mom’s caliber. She was way too good for him. However, the sad thing was, I knew she still loved him. Even after everything he’d put her through.

  She changed the subject as fast as she could. “Hey, are you going out? She must be someone special.” Leave it to my mom to think that a girl would be involved. Moms have this sort of sixth sense. It fucking scared me.

  “No, I just came downstairs to get something to eat,” I lied. I didn’t want to make my mom feel worse than she already did. The truth was I no longer wanted to go out and be around people. I’d be terrible company. Seeing my mom upset reminded me that a relationship wasn’t something I wanted—ever. “I didn’t even know you were home.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop your plans.” Obviously, she knew I was lying. “I’m going to soak in the tub. That always makes me feel better.” My mom pushed off the couch and headed upstairs, sniffling. Halfway up, she turned around, “Good night, Gavin. Go have fun. You deserve to be happy. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

  “Night.” I continued into the kitchen to prove I’d been heading that way. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed something to do. Searching the pantry, I came up empty. On the counter was an open bottle of red wine. Sometimes Mom drank a glass in the evening. On an impulse, I grabbed the open bottle and walked outside onto the back patio.