Chapter 11
11
SOPHIE
A s the weeks slipped by, Sophie was thrilled to be such a close witness to Gavin and the band starting to develop into something real. She knew they were committed to making something of their efforts, and she had every confidence that they’d be playing huge stages one day.
But before that could happen, they needed to play their first stage. It was the topic of nearly all conversations they had as a group. Gavin was itching to perform in front of a real crowd, especially now that they had five songs, one of which was “Day’s Done,” their most polished effort yet.
“What we need is a manager,” Shay said one afternoon after a rehearsal at Conor’s. The band, plus Sophie, were all in Conor’s room so they could listen to his copy of Beck’s Midnite Vultures album. “If we could get someone to work for us, someone who actually knows what the fuck he’s doing?—”
“Unlike us!” Martin said with a laugh.
“Aye, we’re figuring it out,” Gavin said.
“But to get there,” Shay continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “we have to find someone who has a bleeding clue about the music industry. I’m not sure going to London just for the sake of it will help us much.”
Sophie had heard them talk before about going to London as a way to make a name for themselves and it always made her heart skip a beat. “When would you go?” she asked, eyeing Gavin.
“Dunno, darlin’.”
“There’s not much to stick around here for,” Conor said.
“Well …” Gavin gave Sophie a reassuring smile.
“What, you’re going to let a girl stop you, Gav?” Conor shot back. “You—the most ambitious of us all?”
“There’s no rush at this very moment, Con. We haven’t even played a single gig yet. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Yeah, and Sophie’s not going to be here forever, either,” Martin reminded them.
“Just the school year,” Sophie agreed, unable to keep the sadness from her voice.
“Look, Sophie, you can work it out,” Martin suggested. “You’re a smart girl—get yourself a rogue scholarship and come back for university.”
Sophie met Gavin’s eyes and after a moment they both laughed.
“What?” Martin asked, his face coloring.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said with a grin, “what kind of scholarship?”
“Rogue.” Martin said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world and weren’t they idiots for not knowing what he was saying.
But his response was met with laughter from all of them this time. Conor went to his bookshelf and pulled out a thick, antiquated dictionary. He let it drop with a thud in Martin’s lap.
“Do us a favor, then. Look up rogue and tell us what it means.”
“Just tell me what I did wrong,” Martin said mournfully.
“Now, now—you’ll never learn ’til you look for yourself,” Gavin chimed in, grinning.
“Thanks very much, mother,” Martin replied as he opened the fat text.
They all waited in anticipation as he flipped through the pages.
“Ha ha. So I was a wee bit off. ‘Rogue: somebody who is unscrupulous or dishonest, especially somebody who is nevertheless likable,’” he read with a flat voice. “‘A fun-loving, mischievous person; an individual varying markedly from the standard.’ There, happy?”
“Good word,” Sophie said.
“Wrong one though, I get it,” Martin said and smiled with a shake of his head. “Rhodes Scholarship, is what I was thinking. For Oxford or some such uni, yeah?”
“Let me see that,” Gavin said, taking the book from him. He scanned the other definitions and found one marked “dated” and read it aloud to the others. “‘A rogue is also a person who jokes and behaves in a way which you do not approve of but whom you do not want to criticize because you like them too much.’”
“All right, leave it alone already,” Martin moaned.
“No, Marty, I’m not messing with you,” Gavin said. “Rogue, it’s a good word. Seems to me … it’s a good name for our band.”
There was silence as they all contemplated the idea. Finally, Conor tilted his head in approval, before silently picking up his guitar and plucking at the strings. Gavin looked at Martin and was met with a proud grin—he had inadvertently come up with it after all. Shay appeared unsure as he squinted and contemplated for a moment. At last, he nodded in agreement.
“Then it’s settled,” Gavin said. “Rogue.”
Other than Conor’s guitar, a reverent silence settled over the room. It felt significant, this decision. Now that they had a name, they could shape their sound and their image around it.
“You guys should think about what you want the design of the band logo to be,” Sophie said. “It’s got to be distinctive but not too much, you know? People still need to look at it and know it’s a band.”
Gavin wrapped her in his arms. “You’re hired as our manager, darlin’,” he said and she laughed.
“Fuck off with that,” Conor snapped.
The tension in the room was immediate. Martin avoided all eye contact and Shay alternated beseeching looks between Gavin and Conor. Sophie had sensed Conor’s irritation at her always being around before but this outburst felt like something more overt. Something bordering on hostile.
Just as she was about to offer to leave, Gavin pulled away from her and said, “Calm yourself there, pretty boy. You know I was only joking. You also know this band is us four and that only us four make decisions like that.”
She watched her boyfriend and his best friend lock eyes. Some unspoken communication between them seemed to ease Conor’s posture. Everyone knew Gavin and Conor were the closest of friends, but this proved that their bond went beyond words.
“Now.” Gavin leaned back. “What were you strumming there on that guitar?”
“The first number one song by Rogue, don’t you know?” Conor replied with a cocky smile.
Gavin grinned. “I do know.”
And just like that, the brief moment of tension between the two melted away and the whole room seemed to relax. It was the first time Sophie really understood just how connected Gavin and Conor were, and in turn, how their relationship affected everyone else around them. If they weren’t good, no one could be good. She’d never seen boys have that kind of closeness and it intrigued her.
“So, you’ve known Conor for the longest, right?” Sophie asked.
Gavin was walking her home, holding her hand in his and every now and then bringing it to his lips so he could kiss it.
“Yeah. Since I was seven. I mean, I sort of knew him before that even. But at age seven is when we became true mates.”
“That’s the same age when …” she drifted off when his hand tightened on hers. Though he’d told her the truth about his mother, he didn’t like to talk about her.
“He was one of the only kids who didn’t shy away from me at that time,” he said, acknowledging what she’d hinted at, that he and Conor got close at the same time that his mother left. “I was a bit of a nuisance around then. My brother and my da wouldn’t talk about her at all. They just acted like she’d never existed. I didn’t know what to do with myself in that silence. So, I took Ian’s music collection and got lost in the noise of it. It was company to me, having these other voices I could interact with by singing along. But I didn’t always quite know the words. At school, I’d pester just about everyone to see if they knew the lyrics to any number of songs. Everyone pretty much laughed in my face or ignored me.”
“Except for Conor.”
He looked at her with surprise, but his expression quickly gave way to relief of her understanding.
“Except for Conor,” he repeated. “He might have just been too polite to shut me down. Or he might have been curious about my … mania, for lack of a better word.” He laughed as if to make light of the situation.
“Maybe he sensed that you needed someone to escape the world with.”
He met her eyes for a long moment. “Well, what he did is hear me out. More than that even. He helped me figure out those missing lyrics. And so we formed this bond over music that just got stronger over the years.”
“That’s really amazing, Gavin. Makes me wish I had a good friend like that. You know, one that stuck by me when everyone else turned away.”
Squeezing her hand once more, he said, “You do now, darlin’.”
She smiled but the fact that her time with him was growing shorter each day sent a chill through her. Most of the time, she was successful at pushing away that thought and just living in the moment. But she couldn’t always deny their reality.
“Hang on,” Gavin said and pulled away from her.
She watched as he leaned over the low fence of someone’s house and dropped his hand into the mix of wildflowers struggling to bloom in the late spring weather. When he turned back, he held out a daisy, making her smile.
“You stole that for me?” she asked with a laugh. She took it from him and twirled it around, admiring its simple beauty.
“I’d do anything for you.” He wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her long and sweetly.