Love Will
Page 18
“Oh, shit,” I laugh quietly. “I was helping her move furniture,” I say loudly to the man.
“How many times did you move it?” he asks. I shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say. I think the man knows the truth, and he turns around to go back into his store.
Shea’s giggling, but then hits me in the chest. “See? Physicists do lie.”
I wrap my arms around her tightly, giving her one last kiss before leaving her. “To keep their lovers from having to?” I slowly start to step away, however unnatural it feels to do so. "Yeah, they do.”
When I reach the corner, I prop up my bag and try to be nonchalant about taking one final look at her. She’s wiping tears from her eyes, something I didn’t expect to see. I stop walking and turn to face her.
“Go!” she says, shooing me away with her arms. “You’re already late!”
That compressed feeling in my chest is back. I’ve felt the feeling once before in my life. I clench my fist at my side, confused, afraid, but in a way relieved to know that I’m not dead inside. Staring at Shea’s sad eyes and feeling a lump grow in my throat, I pull my clenched hand up, pausing briefly over my heart before bringing it to my lips and kissing it, opening it with my palm up and holding it out toward her. I doubt she understands the significance of this moment, but I do, walking away quickly and failing to catch the two drops that escape from my own eyes.
“Fucking pussy,” I mumble, picking up the pace to a jog and swiping at my face with the sleeves of my shirt.
The bus engine is running smoothly by the time I make it there, and Damon’s holding the door open for me. “Where’s your head?” he asks.
“Right here,” I say as I climb the steps and avoid his stare.
“Feeling inspired?” He shuts the door behind him, and Ben puts the bus in gear, starting our journey with a jolt. I hold on to the couch, the nearest piece of furniture I can find.
“Bored with your songs?” I laugh at him, trying to deflect his attention from me.
“Just trying to see where you’re at, that’s all.”
I kick off my shoes, making myself comfortable. “Anyone mind if I shower?”
“Fine by me,” Peron says from his bunk.
“Mmmm,” Tavo grunts as he sits two feet in front of the TV.
When Damon doesn’t answer, I look up at him for a response. It looks as if he’s still waiting on something from me. “I’m good, man. I’m here and committed and ready to go.”
“All right…”
“Is it okay if I take a shower now?” I’m only asking him this time.
“If you really trust Ben’s driving.” I hadn’t really considered that, but I decide to take my chances. I shut myself inside the tiny stall and start the water, getting under the stream as soon as I’m undressed, even though it’s not as hot as I’d like it to be. Water’s not something we waste on the bus.
I have to hold on to the handicap bar the entire time since Ben’s driving is a little erratic, and washing myself and my hair with one hand isn’t the easiest thing, but at least I feel clean by the time I’m done. I was sad when I’d first stepped out of the shower, realizing I’d washed off her scent, but I can still smell her sweet perfume or soap or shampoo on the shirt I’d been wearing when I slide it back on. The aroma’s strong around the lapels. I bet it was lotion, because she’d grabbed my shirt there before we made love this morning. I inhale deeply, wondering how long the scent will remain on it.
“Will, I gotta take a shit,” Tavo says, pounding on the door.
Welcome back to reality, Will. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, Tav,” I say, squeezing past him, my hair dripping down my neck. I get a chill when I leave the warmth of the steamy bathroom. After unzipping my duffel, I’m greeted with a rather large, plastic container that wasn’t in there last night, or even this morning when I’d packed my things up before my shower. Inside are three insanely large slices of chocolate cake with strawberry icing. A few chocolate-covered strawberries take up any space left over.
Yeah, we never did go back for cake last night. This looks like the perfect breakfast. I abandon my bag and take the container to the kitchen, looking in the fridge before grabbing a fork and sitting down at the small table.
“No milk?” I ask Peron and Damon. They both glare at me. “What?”
“When were we supposed to do your grocery shopping?” Damon asks.
“Shit, I was just asking… I’m not the only one that drinks milk.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You guys eat cereal. Don’t tell me you don’t. I’ve washed nasty, two-day-old spoiled milk from the fucking bowls in the sink on many occasions. I bought Peron milk the other day.” I take a bite of the cake, the morsel nearly melting in my mouth. I’m pretty sure there are actual chocolate chunks in the cake part. “Jesus Christ, that’s good.” I’m not even sure who I’m talking to. I consider eating it slowly, delighting in every bite, but it’s too good to not devour it, so for this piece, I do. I can try to savor the other two.
And as for the strawberries, I just eat them all. They’re so plump and juicy, the chocolate bittersweet, a perfect compliment to the fruit. I finally look up from the feast and see my bandmates staring at me.
“What was that?” Peron asks.
“Cake and chocolate-covered strawberries.”
The look on his face is what I imagine Oliver Twist looked like when he went to ask for ‘some more.’ “Where’d you get it?” he asks.
“I found it in my bag. Finders. Keepers.” I put the lid on the container and take it with me to my bunk, setting it in the corner and away from the sunlight. Feeling the tension, I go back into the kitchen. “Do we need to clear the air, or what?”
“Yes!” Ben yells from the driver’s seat.
“Is it me?” I ask.
“Yes!” he hollers again.
“Do you need to be involved in this?”
“Nope! Just work it out,” he says.
“Damon, come on. What gives?”
“I just feel like you ditched us for days.”
I glance over to Peron, and he nods his head. “And I feel like you sort of skipped out on your whole New Will plan, too.”
“Fuck that, Peron. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He scoffs at me. “Guys, I had cabin fever, okay? No, it was worse than that. It felt… claustrophobic. Nothing against you guys, it was just the situation. Well, Peron, I was tired of your prohibition on anything positive, so maybe I’ll blame you a little. And then Tavo and his poor hygiene.
“But, Damon, you know I can live with you in the worst of circumstances. Finals in that shit-heap apartment my last year of college? You’re never the problem.”
He smiles a little.
“It just started out as an escape. I’d needed a few hours away. I didn’t expect to meet someone, but from the second that I did, I kind of knew I needed as much time with her as I could get.
“I’m not going to apologize for it, though. I was still doing band stuff. I’ve been writing. What have you guys been doing?”
“Bonding,” Tavo says, finally joining us.
“We’re pretty bonded already, man. And in six hours, we’ll probably be meshing just like we were before the blizzard hit. Don’t Yoko her. She’s not breaking up the band.”
They all stare at me for about fifteen seconds before Damon finally breaks, and nods his head at me. “Is she someone we’ll continue to talk about?” he asks.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Her name’s Shea?”
“Yeah.”
“An introduction would have been nice…”
“I’m a selfish prick,” I admit to him with a shrug.
“You can make this all better by giving me one of those slices of cake.”
“I don’t take well to that type of bargaining, Damon. But I’ll give you half of one.”
He grins. “Fine. We’re cool.”
“All right.” We shake hands to agree on it.
“Yep.”
“Any response from Brooke?” He hands me his phone and shows me a text:
Mother fucker, fuck you.
“That’s classy. But hey, you got her new number…”
He motions for his phone back and pulls up a photo. “Just flick through them.” Picture after picture, I see his things strewn on a curb, on cars, in the street in front of his apartment. A few shirts even hang from a neighbor’s fire escape. In the later pictures, people are already taking items.
“That kind of sucks.”
“It’s just stuff, right?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“I’ve got my guitar. My good clothes. My lucky coins. My journals.”
“You can move in with me and Damon when we get back and take our place over again. We never use that back dining room. I bet your bed would fit in there. There’s no door, but it’s a place to sleep. I’ll share my closet.”
“Thanks, Will.”
“Just… try not to worry about it. I know it’s easier said than done, but whatever I can do to help, I will.”
“A half of a piece of cake would help a lot,” he says with a straight face.
I glare at him, then lean in to whisper my response. “Fine, but you and Damon are splitting that piece somewhere far away from Ben and Tavo because I am not sacrificing my last piece of heaven to give to those guys.”
“We’ll lock ourselves in the bathroom,” he says.
“That’s fucking… no. Don’t do that. Lock them in the bathroom.”
“Deal.”
“Have you been able to write anything? It might be cathartic for you, you know?”
“A song full of fucks wouldn’t get us any airplay, so no, I haven’t.”
“Could be a YouTube sensation with a catchy chorus, though. Don’t write it off,” I tell him. “If nothing else, A Songful of Fucks is a great band name, if we ever venture off on our own.” That gets a small smile out of him. “You still going home when we’re in LA?”
“No point.”
“Yeah. Well, you and I are going to find some inspiration. I was thinking of maybe renting a car and driving up the coast. We could take our guitars, find some of those big rocks I’ve seen in pictures and look out over the ocean all day.”
He nods, but then sighs. “I wanna get laid.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, too,” I assure him.
“Soon.”
“Okay. I hear South Dakota has a few women. I’ll be your wingman tonight. What do you say?”
“No offense, but I think Tavo’d be a better wingman,” he says to me. “You’re too damn pretty.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking… Tavo’s someone you actually have to overcompensate for. Apologize for. I can talk you up like no one else, Peron. I’m your biggest fan, you know this.”
“But the hottest girl’s gonna end up wanting you.”
I shake my head. “It’d be a waste of her energy. I wasn’t bullshitting you about Shea. I’ve at least got to try to be faithful or something. Surely I can at least try.”
“You’re not gonna be mad if we put money on this, are you?”
“Is anyone betting on me?”
“No. We’re taking bets on how long it’ll take you to cave.”
“Wow. Do I have any allies anymore?”
“You don’t have a good track record…” I know I don’t.
I start playing around on my guitar, strumming some different chords and plucking away at different riffs until a sound finally seems to intrigue Peron enough to join in. It’s been awhile since we’ve written this way, music first, with no lyrics. The song is in a minor key–it turned that way when Peron got involved–and has an angry rhythm to it. He’s definitely leading the way with this one.
“Can’t believe we’re heading to Brookings,” he finally says with a chuckle. “The irony.”
“You know,” I start, “a ton of words rhyme with Brooke.”
“I don’t write lyrics.”
“You do, too. You have before, it’s just been awhile. I’m not going to judge you.”
“I can’t. She always inspired me.”
“You can… and she can still inspire you. It’s just a first draft. We can pretty it up later. Let’s get it out there, though. Let’s tell the world how you feel.”
“Damon, Damon!” I shout as soon as we’ve got all the words written down. “Come hear Peron’s masterpiece.”
“Will, no,” Peron argues reluctantly.
“It’s awesome, Per. You have to let him hear it. It’s a great break up anthem… we have to incorporate this in somehow. Let’s just go through it once. Okay? If he hates it, we can burn this on the side of the road the next time we stop–although I think it would be a big mistake.”
“We do have an awful lot of love songs…” Damon says. “Hand it over.”
Peron sighs before lifting the two sheets of notebook paper that we’ve feverishly scribbled the words on.
“Hold them down a little,” I tell Damon. “I’ll help you out until you get the feel for it.”
I nod my head, counting Peron in, and we start strumming his angry song together.
I went out with a girl that I liked
She was tall, she was blonde, she was Brooke
It was love at first sight; I was psyched
But her feelings for me, I mistook
It was after a show when we met
And she offered her hand, which I shook
There was kissing and passion and sweat
And then late that first night, yeah we hook’d
Up and away
I went to play
Was already planned
Just me and my band
Nothing illicit
Loved her explicitly
Few months later
I’d learn to hate her
Just finished a gig at a club
In need of a rest, which I took
Got a text on my way to the pub
Was an incoming message from Brooke
“Hey, I think that it’s time that we talked.”
Least original line in the book.
Took her two texts to tell me. I balked
At this horrible plan that she’d cook’d
Up and away
I went to play
Was already planned
Just me and my band
Nothing illicit
Loved her explicitly
Few months later
I’d learn to hate her
She went on to fuck some other schmuck
She said it was love; fit her like a glove
The guy is a crook, ‘cause he stole my Brooke
Now she’s giving him head, in their newly-bought bed
“Ahhhh, Peron,” Damon interrupts us, trying to be sincere through his laughter. “The newly-bought bed! It’s priceless. I love it. Love it, man! It’s funny ‘cause it’s true!”
“Shut up and keep going,” he says apprehensively as he starts to play again.
Up and away
I went to play
Was already planned
Just me and my band
Nothing illicit
Loved her explicitly
Few months later
I’d learn to hate her
But I know one day soon, they’ll be kissing
And she’ll know he’s not right, and she’ll look
Just to see what’s she’s got, who she’s missing
But then when she comes back, I’ll be book’d
Up and away
I went to play
Was already planned
Just me and my band
Nothing illicit
Loved her explicitly
Few months later
I’d learn to hate her
“Wait until Ben hears this. He’s
going to flip. You guys are on! I love this tour!! Best thing that’s ever happened to us. I swear. Don’t you think?”
“Well, you know,” Peron begins, deadpanning, “except for the whole girlfriend ditching me for another guy… the whole thing you just sang about in this song that was caused by this tour, you know… yeah!”
“It was going on before the tour,” Damon reminds him, which is good, because I was going to if he hadn’t.
“Fuck, she probably would have been cheating on you behind your back if you hadn’t gone on tour, so this just may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And Per, you’re gonna get laid tonight, okay?”
“Yeah?” Damon asks.
I nod my head. “That’s the plan.”
“Then that’s the goal,” he agrees. “And I don’t fail at my goals. Peron, man. We’re finding you a honey tonight in Brookings–oh fuck!”
“Yeah, we know,” I tell him. “Strange coincidence.”
“It’s perfect. You get over Brooke in Brookings. No better place,” Damon says. “We should find you the sexiest woman and get a picture of you two doing nasty things to each other in front of the city sign… and then send that to Brooke.”
Peron looks Damon straight in the eyes. “That’s okay. Just finding the girl and a private place to, uh, do some nasty things will be sufficient.”
“If you say so.”
“Yeah.”
I look at Damon, and know we’re on the same page. “We’ll Photoshop it,” I tell him as we fist-bump.
Chapter 12
When my phone rings a little after one the next afternoon, I run through the bus to answer it. “Shea?”
“Hi,” she says, bringing a smile to my face.
“Hey. I’m glad you called me back.”
“I was working when you left a message earlier.”
“I know…”
“I thought you would have called last night,” she says simply, airily, not angry or anything.
“I thought I would, too. I meant to. As soon as we got in, I got in bed, I put on my headphones, started doing some random calculations, shifted my focus to you… remembered being with you… remembered how I felt when I was with you… I thought about your eyes, and this little golden fleck you have below your left pupil, and then I don’t know what happened, but it was morning. I called you as soon as I woke up.”