Summer Love (Senior Year (Vol. 1))

by Marysue Hobika

  “Good idea,” added Connor.

  “Great,” I replied. I took the bright purple electric violin, I’d nicknamed purplicious, out of the case and plugged her in. Upon joining the band, I’d borrowed it from Mrs. Wang, my private teacher. It was difficult to picture Mrs. Wang jamming on purplicious, but she felt just right tucked under my chin. Connor played a note and I tuned up. “I’m ready.”

  Ed tapped out a beat and we all joined in, right on cue. The music flowed through my veins, making me feel like myself again. Playing could cure anything, even a nasty hangover. I closed my eyes as I sunk deeper into the music, feeling it move from my toes and up through my limbs. I loved the new sound of Karma. It was fun, upbeat, and definitely different. Just as the song was coming to an end, Nathan hit a wrong chord and my eyes fluttered open. I looked at him quizzically. He was blushing. It was unlike him, or any one of us for that matter, to falter. Even though we hadn’t been playing together long, we always sounded right on key.

  We ran through a few more songs before switching gears and focusing on a new piece that Connor had written. The great thing about this particular song was that it took into account all of our talents. It was a work in progress but had serious potential. We were hoping to play it for the Summer Jam next month. We had a shot at winning if we could pull it together in time.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed at the end of the set, breathing heavily and wiping a hand across my forehead. Playing the fiddle was a workout. My skin shone with sweat.

  “Let’s take five,” Ed said, with his usual cymbal crash.

  Tonight was one of the hottest nights of the summer. Ed opened the refrigerator and threw everyone a bottle of water. He had a decent setup in his garage with a makeshift stage in the center and two old couches with a beat-up coffee table along the wall. His parents must’ve been saints to put up with all our noise. I plopped down on one of the couches and was soon sandwiched between Nate and Ed.

  “Let’s switch things up. Give Carly a break from the fiddle and have her sing,” said Connor from across the room. He was a talented musician and usually decided which songs we’d practice. I envied his raw talent.

  “Okay,” I agreed, secretly hoping my voice had recovered from all the screaming and laughing I’d done at the park last night. I turned to Nathan and asked, “You going out with Becca tonight?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. Am I?” He nudged my shoulder playfully.

  I laughed. Nathan knew that Becca and I told each other everything. She’d gone on and on today about how close she and Nathan were getting and how much she really liked him. She claimed that he wasn’t like the high school boys she’d dated in the past. “Yes, yes, you are. But Becca didn’t say where you were going.”

  “It’s still up in the air, but we’ll probably grab something to eat. I’m always hungry after rehearsals. You could come too?” he offered.

  “Thanks, but no.” I shook my head. There was no way I was going to be the third wheel. Again.

  “Why in the world would she want to tag along on your date? How stupid are you?” laughed Ed.

  “I was just trying to be nice.”

  “I’m sure she has plans of her own,” Brady said, jumping into the conversation, his voice hard. It was like he knew I didn’t have anything going on tonight and wanted to point out what a loser I was. All four pairs of eyes were looking at me as Brady asked, “So, what are you doing later?”

  I knew he wasn’t asking me out. Brady made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t like me. He wanted me to verify that I really was a loser. My cheeks grew red, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip. “I’m going home,” I answered quietly, my headache returning. I could’ve lied, but I didn’t feel the need to pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

  Truth was, I was looking forward to hanging out on the couch and watching TV. My dad had returned from a trip that afternoon and we loved watching reruns of Saturday Night Live together. It was kind of our thing. But I wasn’t going to explain that to Brady. He was too big of a jerk to understand.

  “You should come out with us, to the movies,” offered Connor. “I’m meeting up with some other friends and their girlfriends after this.”

  Connor was handsome. He had short, dark blond hair, and large brown eyes—a picture-perfect, Catholic schoolboy, smart and sweet. Even though he didn’t have a girlfriend (at least not one I knew of), I didn’t want to go. I didn’t think it was fair to lead him on. He flirted with me off and on, but I didn’t feel that way about him.

  “No, thanks, but it’s nice of you to offer,” I said, letting him down easy.

  “You won’t be a third wheel, I promise.”

  I laughed. “Maybe another time.”

  He nodded.

  Ed clapped his hands and yelled, “Break’s over. I’ve got a hot date with Peyton tonight, and she doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

  “You’re pussy-whipped,” whooped Nathan.

  “So what if I am?” chuckled Ed. I’d met his girlfriend. She was very attractive and seemed sweet enough. She was two years younger than he was and was going to be a senior next year at the other high school in town. They’d been together for a couple of years and it was obvious they cared a lot about each other. “Time to get back to work.”

  We resumed our positions and for the first time since I joined Karma, I couldn’t wait for rehearsal to be over. My voice didn’t sound scratchy but it wasn’t melodic like normal. It sounded stiff and forced. I wasn’t feeling it anymore after Brady’s comments. I knew I shouldn’t let him get to me, and I should just speak my mind and tell him what an ass he was, but sometimes the old me resurfaced. Last night I had no problem telling Gavin off, but Brady was a different story. Old habits could be hard to break. I was just happy to get through all the songs without any major mistakes. I was sure everyone noticed I wasn’t on top of my game, but nobody commented. When Ed banged his cymbal for the last time, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  ***

  Rain pattered against my window, waking me up early. I looked at the clock and rolled over. It was only six. Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, forty-five minutes later, I was still wide-awake. Giving up, I stood and stretched.

  I grabbed my violin and began to play. Drew could sleep through anything, and my dad would already be up. He worked from home when he wasn’t on the road, and he said my playing helped him concentrate.

  I had ensemble in three days. I placed the violin under my chin and set to work. Playing the trickiest part of the piece over and over again. My fingers itched to play the new song Connor had written, and as soon I felt confident that I had almost mastered what I was working on, I switched gears. The combination of notes in Karma’s music weren’t as difficult to play, but it was faster and still required me to concentrate. I loved the funky beat and practiced for a long time.

  Playing reminded me of band practice last night. Brady had made me feel uncomfortable. Nothing I said or did seemed to be the right thing. But I felt better by the time Drew finally picked me up. He’d gotten tied up and showed up late. Connor stayed and talked to me while I waited. His plans to go to the movies fell through. We discovered we had a lot in common. He was the going to be a senior at St. Paul’s and wanted to study music in college too. He wasn’t interested in teaching like I was, but wanted to concentrate on composition instead. Based on what I’d already seen, I’d told Connor he had a lot of talent. I could see him being a songwriter someday. In a few years, I’d turn on the radio and someone would be singing a song he wrote. If he asked me out again, I might say yes. I liked Connor. He was a good guy. He didn’t have a spilt personality, like someone else I knew.

  I frowned. Thinking about Gavin hurt. It had only been a couple of days since I saw him kissing another girl. Why did I have to have feelings for someone like him? I knew it could never work out. We were too different. Connor and I were alike.

  I stowed my violin and went downstairs. I was hungry for breakfast. I reached the bottom of the s
tairs and saw my dad working in his office. He wasn’t on the phone, so I entered.

  “Morning, Dad,” I said.

  “Morning, Sweetie. I heard you playing. It sounded great.” His eyes twinkled. “I also noticed that you spent more time playing something other than Chopin again.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.

  “Sure, sweetie. Sit down.” My dad pointed to the couch, and I sat on the edge. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m supposed to be planning my senior recital.” I looked at him through my eyelashes and continued. “Mr. Kinsler keeps reminding me, and I wondered if you’d help. I don’t know if you know what that is, but it’s supposed to be a big deal. I need to reserve a place to hold a recital for family and friends with a reception to follow. I’ll sing and play violin, which means I need to find an accompanist. I should already have some of this done by now, but I haven’t. Then there’s all the little things that need to be done too, like making invitations and finding a new dress.”

  “I remember students inviting your mom to their senior recitals. She even accompanied several of them. She always looked forward to attending and would come home telling me how blessed she felt to have had such wonderful students. I bet you wish she was here now.”

  I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. We remained quiet for a minute. I was thinking that she should still be here.

  “I’m happy to help,” said my dad, breaking the silence. “Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

  “I’ve been putting it off because I wasn’t sure how I felt about performing in front of so many people. But I’m in a band now. I have to get used to it if I’m going to be famous some day.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I hugged my dad. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. We planned to look into some places on Friday afternoon, when his calendar was wide open.

  Chapter Eight

  Gavin

  I was busy restocking the trail mix when Julia headed down the aisle. I’d seen her around school a few times, but I didn’t know her name until this summer when she started working at Trader Joe’s. She was pretty, with light brown hair and hazel eyes, but I wasn’t interested. She wasn’t my type—she talked way too much. I cringed. I wasn’t in the mood for one of her long, drawn-out stories. She just didn’t know when to stop. And the worst part was she loved to ask me questions. Questions I didn’t want to answer.

  “Hi, Gavin. How are you?”

  “Fine.” I continued restocking the shelf, hoping that if I looked busy she’d leave me alone and go back to doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing.

  “Last night my friends and I went to the new Summer Fun Center. I know it probably sounds lame to you, but we wanted to check it out because a girl we know from school—maybe you know her—Sasha Allen?” I shook my head no. “Well, anyway, her parents own it, so we went. We rode go-carts and then hit balls in the batting cages. We were having fun until my friend Amanda, she’s not a softball player like the rest of us, got hit with a ball in the shoulder.” Does this girl ever shut up? “You should’ve heard her complain. She pouted until we finally gave in and took her home.”

  “Is there a point to this story? I’m kind of working here.” I pointed at the box I was emptying.

  “Yeah, sorry. Did you play baseball at your old school? I know you didn’t play last year because I know all the guys on the team, but you look like you could be player.” I felt her eyes linger on me.

  “No, I don’t play baseball,” I responded without looking at her.

  “Oh,” she sounded upset, but quickly recovered. “It doesn’t really matter if you don’t. There’s a lot to do there besides the batting cages.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Julia continued to talk, but I tuned her out.

  My thoughts drifted to Carly. She knew how to communicate without having to fill every second with noise. I sighed deeply. Too bad I epically fucked that up. I was still pissed at myself for being such an idiot the other night. It should’ve been Carly’s full lips pressed against mine. I’d stared at her lips while we talked on the beach, resisting the urge to lick her bottom lip with my tongue. I’d tried to tell Harper that I was there with someone else, but she kept coming on to me. I knew it was wrong, but I was drunk, and regrettably, I caved. I wouldn’t blame Carly if she never forgave me. It wasn’t like we were together at the party, but we had been hanging out, and up until then, I was sure we were both having a good time.

  “So, Gavin, do you want to?”

  Has Julia been talking this whole time? I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Do what?”

  “I asked if you wanted to go to the Summer Fun Center with me tonight.” I finally turned to look at her. She was grinning nervously and biting her bottom lip. Carly did that. And she was the only one I wanted to take to the Summer Fun Center, or anywhere for that matter. Too bad she wanted nothing to do with me.

  Even though it wasn’t Julia’s fault, I took it out on her. “Sorry. Can’t. Ever.” I knew it was rude, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t exactly known at Crownwood High for being nice.

  She turned red, blew out her breath, and sputtered, “You’re an asshole, Gavin. My friends warned me about you, but I didn’t believe them.” She shook her head. “I can see why you don’t have any friends.” She spun on her heel and walked away.

  I went back to restocking the trail mix, feeling guilty for acting like a dick, but thankfully, it was quiet. For once. I finished my shift without any more interruptions and then hurried home.

  The back door had barely shut behind me when I heard it, and groaned. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more drama today. I rolled my shoulders back and went in search of the source. My mom was sitting on the couch with a half-empty box of tissues, while the rest littered the floor. Tentatively, I approached. “Mom, what’s wrong?” What did Dad do now?

  She turned her face to me. It was red and tear-streaked, as if she’d been at it for a while. “Your father … and Cindy … had the baby,” she cried, not even trying to put on a brave face. “I’m sorry, Gavin.”

  “What are you apologizing for? None of this is your fault.” I reached my hand out and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. My mom wiped at her tears and blew her nose.

  “Maybe if I’d waited up for him when he got home late from surgery, or maybe if I’d insisted we go out to dinner just the two of us when he had a night off, or if I hadn’t been so focused on my own career and had been there for him when he needed me, he never would’ve left.”

  “No, Mom, this is Dad’s fault. All of it,” I said angrily. I didn’t like my mom blaming herself for my dad’s mistakes. There was no excuse for cheating.

  “Hey, don’t blame it all on Dad,” stated Nate, who was leaning against the doorway. I didn’t even know he was home.

  I took two steps toward him, and seeing my intent, he pushed off the wall and met me halfway. It would be so easy to take my anger out on Nate. It pissed me off that he took Dad’s side in all this. My fists clenched at my sides. How could he think any of this was Mom’s fault? I couldn’t believe he continued to have a relationship with our father after everything he’d done. The fucking bastard walked out on us.

  “Have you ever even given Dad the chance to explain his side of the story? Have you ever bothered to talk to him or return his phone calls?” My jaw tightened. “I didn’t think so. How can you be so sure that everything is his fault? You should at least listen to him before you judge. He’s still your dad.”

  At this point, I was close enough that Nate surely could smell the peanut butter on my breath. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do.”

  Nate didn’t back down. “And don’t forget, bro,” he jabbed me in the chest with his index finger, “Hannah—that’s her name, by the way—is your half-sister.”

  “You’re a prick!” I shoved Nate, my blood boiling. “And Dad’s a cheating bastard.”


  “Boys,” our mom gasped. She hated it when we fought. I knew I was making things worse, but I was too pissed off to care.

  “Go ahead, Gavin. Hit me. I know you want to,” he boasted, pushing me hard with both hands.

  It was true—I was looking for a fight. I was having a shitty day and needed to let off some steam. I pulled my hand back and punched him square in the face. He’d braced himself for my punch and slightly stumbled.

  “Is that all you got? Pussy!”

  “Stop it! Please!” my mother yelled. She sounded far away, even though she was in the same room. Nate was the only thing on my radar. There was no turning back now. He was bigger and bulkier than me, but I had speed and agility on my side. Also I knew how to pack a punch.

  I took another swing and this time made sure I connected. I smoked his ass directly in the jaw and doubled up with a ferocious shot to the kidney. When fist met face, I swore I heard his jaw crack, and I knew for sure he’d be pissing blood for the next week after the body blow. He keeled over and immediately grabbed for his midsection. Blood poured from a split in his lip.

  Before I could process what had just happened, my mom leaped from the coach to attend to Nate. Once he regained his composure, he looked me in the eye, and said, “Fuck you, you piece of shit. You’re a hypocrite. Why don’t you take a look in the mirror sometime? You’re too busy hating Dad to see that you’re just like him.” And with that, he stood and exited the room.

  When I looked back at Mom, she was crying even harder, anguish plastered on her face. It reminded me of the look on Carly’s face when she saw me kissing Harper. Fuck! Nate was right—I was a hypocrite. I was just like my dad. Technically, Carly and I weren’t a couple when it happened, but I’d still hurt her, and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. And just when I thought Nate and I were restoring our friendship, I went and popped off. My life was once again spiraling out of control and I knew it. So what did I do? I slammed the back door as hard as I could, ignoring my mom’s plea to stop, and I left.