Fear and Laundry (27 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Myles

BOOK: Fear and Laundry
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“My mom told me you’d called,” I said. “Sorry she wouldn’t let me talk.”

“What happened? I’ve heard some crazy stories about you and Lia and Clyde Kameron...”

When I’d finished filling him in on the details, he looked somewhat impressed, although he may’ve just been surprised I’d actually had a halfway interesting story to tell him for once.

“That’s wild,” he said. I agreed it was.

There didn’t seem much else to say about it and he looked away, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee and absently watching a couple of people play pool. I saw it was Dustin and the girl I’d seen him with earlier. He stood behind her as she leaned over the table, using the billiard lesson as an excuse to press up against her.

I glanced back at Alex, taking in his perfect profile and wondering if there were any way I could get out of having to tell him I couldn’t see him anymore. I wished I could just avoid the whole situation, maybe stop answering his phone calls and hope he eventually got the hint and went away. But I knew he deserved better than that. And I was determined to tell people the truth as often as I could from now on.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’ve
you
been up to these past couple of weeks?” I asked, trying to ease into the subject.

“Listen, Veronica,” he said, ignoring my question. He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the floor before finally facing me. “I really like you.”

I almost couldn’t believe it. But I’d had enough experience to know what usually came along with those words and that look. He was about to break up with me. I should’ve been relieved, considering I’d been about to do the same, and now it looked as though I wouldn’t have to. But he looked so distressed by having to dump me that I was moved to help him out.

“I like you, too,” I said, truthfully. “But I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?”

“Well, the timing’s not really so great, is it?” I said. “I mean, you’re busy. I’m busy...” It wasn’t a lie.

To his credit, he tried to hide his relief. “Yeah,” he said, knitting his brows and nodding earnestly. “Yeah, we’re both super busy.”

I smiled at him. “You’re a good guy, Alex,” I told him. “I’ve had fun with you. And I hope we can still hang out sometimes. You know, as friends.”

He smiled back. “So we’re cool?”

I assured him we were.

He let out a breath. “What about Lia?” he surprised me by asking.

“What about her?”

“You don’t think she’ll be mad, do you?”

“Why would she be?”

He squirmed. “Well, she’s the one who told me...”

“Told you what?”

He hesitated, but then seemed to realize it was too late not to finish what he’d been about to say. “She told me you were, you know, interested in me,” he said. He rushed to add he’d been flattered, because he’d always thought I was cute. In fact, he’d asked Lia about me in the first place, one time she’d come into Kopy Shak by herself. “But after our first date, I thought maybe she’d been wrong. You didn’t seem that into me.”

“Um,” I wasn’t sure what to tell him.

“But then Lia came by the shop,” he continued, “And said you’d told her you’d had a good time and, well, basically...” She’d told him not to give up on me. From the sound of it, she’d practically ordered him not to.

“Uh-huh,” I said, thinking things made a lot more sense to me now. It seemed Alex hadn’t been particularly persistent to date me after all. He’d just been afraid of getting on Lia’s bad side. And now I also knew what Lia’d meant when she said she’d have “liked to know” I was interested in Jake because it would’ve “saved her the trouble.” The trouble of trying to set me up with Alex, apparently.

“So, you think she’ll be mad? I mean, she seemed pretty adamant...”

“Don’t worry about Lia. I’ll handle her.”

He patted my hand, thanking me, and then leaned in to embrace me. I hugged him back without reservation, thinking he really was cool and that unlike a lot of people who claimed they’d stay friends, Alex and I probably would. I knew I, at least, genuinely wanted to try.

“Do you want to come and sit with me? I think the show’s about to start,” he said. I thanked him for the offer but told him maybe I’d meet up with him later.

“Okay,” he said and surprised me by pressing his lips to my cheek just before releasing me. Then he got up and walked away.

I watched him thread through and then disappear into the burgeoning crowd with a little twinge of regret. I wasn’t sure why I’d opted not to go with him. I’d just felt as though I’d needed a moment to myself. But now that I was sitting there all alone, I just felt lonely and depressed again. I knew I should probably get up and go find Paige or Lia or someone, but that seemed to require too much effort.

I slouched, flicked at a loose button in one of the couch cushions and thought of Jake, wondering when he’d get there and what would happen when he did. I hoped my friends were right and he’d forgive me, maybe even give me another chance. But I feared that was just wishful thinking. More likely, he wouldn’t even want to talk to me.

I turned my head, biting my lip to keep from crying in public again, and saw Jake through the window. He stood alone out there on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamppost and looking in at me. My heart leapt and, hesitantly, I waved. For a second he didn’t stir and I worried he wouldn’t acknowledge me.

But then he brought one hand up, half-waving and half-saluting.

***

“H
ey. I was beginning to wonder if you’d show,” I said when I joined him on the sidewalk. There were only a few other people loitering around out there, none of them paying any attention to us. My legs shook anxiously as I neared him, and I hid my sweaty hands in my jacket pockets.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “Just had to work.” He looked drained, his face pale except for the shadows under his eyes.

“Lia told me you’re back at Cell Farm,” I said, happy he hadn’t immediately told me to get lost.

He nodded, telling me Benji had promised to have him at a manager’s wage by the end of the month. I told him that was great, but he just shrugged.

“How’s Alex doing?” he asked.

“Huh?”

He lifted his chin at the window and I realized he must’ve seen Alex hugging and kissing me on the cheek before.

“Oh. He’s okay. We were actually, uh, just calling things off. Officially,” I informed him.

Trent passed by on his way into the building then, and Jake turned away from me to nod at him. “Oh, yeah?” he said coolly to me, as though what I'd just said didn’t matter to him one way or another.

“Mm-hm. Not that there was ever much going on there to begin with.”

I watched him ignore me to pull at a loose thread on his jacket and felt myself start to panic, thinking this conversation wasn’t going the way I’d wanted. I didn’t want to talk about Alex, or about anything other than how terrible I felt for screwing things up between Jake and me. I just wanted to put things right. But instead I was blowing it all over again. I could tell.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Huh?” Brilliant.

He’d turned his attention back to me. “You said you guys broke things off. You alright?”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine. Thanks.” Alex was a nice guy, I said, but we didn’t really have that much in common.

He didn’t respond to this. “How’s your head?” he asked.

Reflexively, I touched the back of my skull, which was still a little sore but otherwise okay. “Fine.”

“Listen. I want to apologize to you.”

“Forget it,” I said, though I knew I never would.

“I’m really sorry, Nic. I feel like an ass.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“It’s meant a lot to me to be able to talk to you since I’ve been back in town. Way more than you know,” he went on. “You’ve been really great to me and the last thing I ever wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable. Or to mess up our friendship. It sort of tears me up to think I might’ve done both.” He did look a little torn up, I thought, his tired eyes now troubled and the quiet, easy confidence I was used to, temporarily replaced by a subtle anxiety. I wasn’t used to seeing him discomfited and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like knowing it was because of me.

“Forget it,” I repeated softly.

“We’d been spending so much time together,” he continued as though I hadn’t said anything, “and I guess I just misread things because I thought...well, I thought maybe you liked me.” He gave a short laugh and shook his head, as though at the foolishness of the assumption. The gesture tugged at my heart.

“I do like you,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” he said quietly.

“I do,” I said. “I like you so much, Jake. Too much, maybe.” A car had pulled up across the street and I watched the driver try unsuccessfully to parallel park, his passenger yelling advice. I could feel Jake watching me, waiting for me to say something else. “You didn’t misread anything,” I said. “I just want you to know that, okay?”

“But you said...”

“I’m not sure why I said that. I guess I panicked. It doesn’t matter. There’s no excuse. I’m just sorry...
so
sorry I lied to you and made you feel bad, because you didn’t do anything wrong.” It was hard for me to look him in the eye but I did. “I hope you can forgive me.”

He gazed back at me, and for the umpteenth time I wished I could read his mind, know just what he was thinking.

I heard the bell jingle behind me as Lynch’s door opened. “Veronica,” Dave called out to me. “Lia’s looking for you. She wants you in here.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “Come on,” Dave beckoned insistently, unaware or uncaring he’d interrupted anything. “Set’s about to start.”

***

I
t hadn’t really hit me that Lynch’s was closing until the lights dimmed, the show started, and I realized it was for the very last time.

A lump formed in my throat as Lia approached the microphone and The Grubby Mitts started to play behind her. The band sounded great. Though I could tell she still felt down, Lia covered it well, rallying a little enthusiasm and getting into the set. She had to sing most of The Mitts’ songs from lyric sheets because she didn’t know the words, but it didn’t diminish her act any. I started to wish I’d brought my camera along, or at least a notebook and pen. I could’ve jotted down some notes and written up the final show later, for the
Slate
. But I’d been such a mess before coming here, I hadn’t even thought to.

As I watched Lia’s improvisation, I thought about how much I’d miss showing up at Lynch’s on any given night and seeing something like this: something I hadn’t planned on, that I’d never seen before and might never see again. A purely impromptu performance. Or even a big, nasty fight.

Jake stood nearby throughout most of the Mitts’ set, but didn’t touch or even look at me much, leaving me to wonder what he’d made of my blundering apology. When the Mitts were done, he told me his and Caleb’s band, called Good Television, were up next. I wished him luck as he left for the stage, knowing he wouldn’t need it.

Lia met me at the edge of the crowd, drenched in sweat. I was complimenting her performance when Jonathan Krantz came up and congratulated her, too. I was astounded when she turned to thank him and kissed him full on the mouth. Jonathan, looking euphoric, said he’d get her a drink and tripped unsteadily off through the crowd.

“What was
that
?”

“Shush,” she told me.

I had to convince her I wasn’t making fun of her before she’d tell me what’d happened. Jonathan had been “very sweet,” since the incident at the Crawford, she explained. He’d seen the ambulance carry Clyde away from the hotel and called Lia to find out what’d happened. He’d called every day since then, too, to check on her and see how she was handling everything. Their telephone conversations had been quite “illuminating,” she said. Jonathan, it turned out, was pretty nerdy.

“And nice?”

“SO nice,” apparently.

“What about Yamir?” I asked, trying to hide my amusement. This got even harder to do when Lia got a very serious look on her face and told me a part of her would probably always “pine for” Yamir. But in the end he’d been resolute in his devotion to Addy Chandler and Lia couldn’t fault him. After all, if he’d been so easily swayed from the woman he’d sworn to love, he wouldn’t have been the “nice guy” Lia’d fallen for, would he? It was a dilemma, she clucked. A paradox, I agreed.

Jonathan came back with a Diet Coke for Lia and the three of us looked for a place to sit. Katrina asked friends of hers to make room for us at her table and they shifted down a few seats. We squeezed in just as April announced Good Television.

They only played a few songs, but they totally rocked. Not that I’d expected anything less. It was nice to watch Jake from this vantage point again, rather than from behind the drum kit. I’d seen him from the audience plenty of times in the past, of course, but that’d been before I knew I was crazy about him. Now that I’d been clued in, I was grateful for the excuse to just sit and marvel at him uninterrupted for a little while. Although every now and then I’d start to worry again, that maybe I’d blown my chance to be his girlfriend.

The sets were kept short because so many bands wanted to play that night. Though they’d been banned after the Housewives show, Roy even let Electric Torch come back for a farewell song. When Ridley showed up just as Good Television finished, she stopped by our table and said hello. Lia was suspicious, but Ridley didn’t say a single mean thing. In fact, she told us it was “pretty cool” we’d saved Clyde’s life and asked if Impressionable Youth were playing tonight. Lia looked at me and said we could if I wanted to; the band members were all here. I told her I didn’t think so. My public debut had been enough of a disaster. My drumming days were probably best left behind me.

“That’s too bad. You weren’t half bad,” said Ridley, and apologized for her part in the incident.

“It’s not your fault,” I said. I’d just never been cut out to play music. I was glad I’d tried it, but now I knew for certain it wasn’t in my blood or soul, the way it was in Lia’s and Jake’s and other real musicians’. She said she thought she understood.

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