“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Thanks.” Now I feel worse. Two other people know before Linc.
“I’m gay,” he blurts out. “Now you know a secret about me and you can hang out with me without thinking I’m trying to get into your maternity pants.”
I smack his arm. “I’m not in maternity pants yet.”
“Yeah, but it made you laugh.”
“Okay, let's go see a movie,” I agree. There have been so many changes in my life recently that a little fun sounds like the exact thing I need to clear my mind. I want to eat popcorn and watch a movie with my new friend. One that seems to need someone in his life as much as I do. I can worry about real life again tomorrow.
Chapter Seventeen
Linc
Writing music isn’t just sitting down in front of a mixer or being in a room together riffing off of each other. Sometimes, it’s listening to a beat laid down by Nick over and over in your ears until it sparks a melody while you’re sitting at the beach while your track man--the drummer--tries to learn how to surf and your bassist is flirting with a couple of Malibu beach bunnies who have more interest in the paint on their toes.
“We’ve got a gig on Friday,” Benjy is telling them. “You should come.”
There’s some indistinct murmuring that I try to shut out by turning the volume up on my phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benjy pull his phone out. He starts to tilt it toward the girls, probably to show them where it is or what time it is but he drops his phone.
A chuckle escapes and I shake my head. Poor Benjy, trying to be cool for these girls and ending up fumbling with his phone. It takes him a couple more efforts to pick it up, but when he does, he doesn’t return to the girls. Instead, he starts to look toward me and then, as if an invisible thread is attached to the side of his face, he jerks around to face the ocean. Nick washes up on shore and Benjy runs down to meet him, abandoning the girls altogether.
It’s odd, but I’m supposed to be writing music, not crafting a beach drama. I reapply myself to the track. Blue like the … sea? No, that’s too ordinary. So are blue eyes. How many songs mention blue eyes? A thousand of them. Blue lungs? Blue heart? Blue toes? How did I ever think I was a songwriter? Maybe what I need to do is go for a swim. I throw down my pen and get to my feet. My shirt joins my pen. Before I can get to the water, Benjy and Nick are in front of me wearing serious faces.
“What is it? The water too cold?” I joke. Nick doesn’t care what the water is like so long as he can be in it.
He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t frown. He just stands there like a stone. It’s weird. I switch to Benjy, whose face usually shows every emotion he’s feeling and it’s not different now. Pity mixed with sympathy with a touch of anger stretches across his expression. My heart squeezes a bit and a nerve in the back of my neck that I didn’t know existed starts twitching.
“Is it money?”
Benjy shakes his head. Nick looks away.
“Is it Treats? Did he cancel our deal?”
Still refusing to look at me, Nick shoves his hand through his hair. Benjy bites his lip.
“For fuck’s sake, what is it? Did someone die? Are your parents okay? Did the factory go belly up? What?”
My two friends share a look and then I know. My throat seizes up and my brain starts throwing a bunch of sick images in front of my eyes. “It’s Cherry, isn’t it?”
Nick nudges Benjy, who shoves the phone at me. I don’t want to look at it. “Just tell me. I can take it. Whatever it is,” I lie. I really can’t take it. The worst thing in my life is Cherry getting hurt and me not being by her side. I should’ve never left Shindale. I need to get back there now. I start racing back to my shit when Nick grabs me by the neck and forces the phone in front of me.
My eyes blur and then focus and then blur again because the images are not making sense in my brain. I see them—two figures with one looking like Cherry only it can’t be because there’s a guy’s arm around her shoulder and that guy is not me so it isn’t Cherry. My mind rejects it. A finger comes up and swipes left. A new image comes up. It’s another photo of the girl that looks like Cherry and she’s gazing up at the asshole’s face because he’s taller than her. Her eyes are sparkling and she’s laughing. The next picture is darker and I can barely make anything out but the two figures’ heads are close together. So close together. I push the phone away. I have to get back to Shindale.
“What’re you going to do?” Nick asks.
“I’m going to see Cherry.”
“We have three gigs this week.”
“I don’t fucking care.” I throw my shirt over my head, disregarding the sand that spills down my back and into my shorts. I shove my feet into my slides, grab my phone, and take off at a run.
Nick grabs my arm and spins me around. “Dude, you cannot leave. We have so many gigs. We have an album to finish. What’s the point of going home? Cherry ch—“
“No,” I interrupt with a slashing gesture of my hand. “Cherry did not cheat on me. That’s not the type of relationship we have. I’m going to get back to Shindale and she’s going to explain everything and we’re going to have a good laugh and—“
“You can do all of that here. Call her.” Nick takes my hand and presses the phone into my palm.
I lick my lips and stare at the screen like a snake is about to jump out and bite my nose off.
“Call her,” Nick repeats. “Ask her or you’re going to waste all the money you’re saving to bring her out here and possibly jeopardize the whole career you’re building to support the family you’re supposed to start with her.”
Benjy’s hand comes up and folds around mine. “Call her.” He moves my finger, tapping through to Cherry’s number. My thumb hesitates over the dial button. If I call her, I can clear this up. Nick’s reasoning makes sense. I’m trying to save money for Cherry and my future. Plus, she wouldn’t cheat on me. There’s no point in even calling her on this. I push Benjy’s hand away and force out a light tone. “I’m hungry. You guys hungry? I saw a taco truck at the top of the hill.”
“What about—” Benjy starts to ask, but Nick waves for him to shut up.
“Yeah, starved. Tacos sound good. Benjy, get the rest of our shit.” Nick throws an arm around my neck. “Street tacos are the fucking best part of LA.”
“I thought it was the waves,” I joke with fake cheerfulness.
“It’s the babes,” Benjy yells at us. “It’s the babes. That’s all you need anywhere,” he adds thoughtlessly.
Nick throws a glare at our bassist but I make myself laugh. “Right. As soon as Cherry gets here, LA will be perfect.”
My friends nod in agreement and that’s that. Those photos were not Cherry. It was someone that looked like her and a jealous bitch sent them to Benjy to make me breakup with Cherry. That’s never going to happen. Cherry and I are forever. It’s just a thing like the tide rising with the moon and the sun setting in the west. It’s like that and no fake photos will ever make me waver.