5. You’re My Best Friend
CHAPTER 5
You’re My Best Friend
JOEL
“K ey. Key. Keith motherfucking Prentiss!”
Key looks up at me from where he sits on the old couch in the green room, fiddling with his guitar. “You say something?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, dipshit, we’re about to start and you’re daydreaming over here.”
He jumps up. “Sorry. I was—never mind.”
Dave and James are talking to each other as they head out but I hang back. “Are you okay, man?”
Key blinks and shrugs. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He tries to walk past me but I clasp a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his place. “Seriously. The past couple days . . . you’ve been in a funk.”
His eyebrows rise under his wavy mop of brown hair. “A funk?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, a fucking funk. Mopey as shit, wandering around the house like Droopy Dog.”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
I hold my arm out straight and give him a hard stare.
“I said I’m fine, Joel. Back off.”
“It’s cool if you’re not, you know. We could do something. Anything. Or you could tell me what’s bothering you.”
He pushes my hand away and rolls his eyes. “What’s bothering me right now is some asshat blocking the way to the stage.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine. But, if you say no to going out for chicken wings after the show tonight, I’m calling 911.”
His mouth drops open in mock-outrage. “I would never turn down chicken wings. If I ever say no to that, your concern is valid and I’ve obviously been body swapped by aliens.” He grins at me, and I think maybe this has all been in my head.
I smile back. “Right. Okay, then.”
We head down the hall, the dark corridors muffling the chanting from the crowd.
“By the way,” he says, “sorry about ditching you with all that laundry. I bet that sucked balls.”
I shrug, a wide grin stretching across my face. “I have no regrets.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s that look?”
“What look?”
“That ‘I just got to stuff my face in the biggest pair of tits’ look.”
“Jesus, Key, you really do have a way with words.”
Now he stops me , and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to tone down the smile. “No, really. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Hey, fuckheads, you ready or what?” Dave yells, standing next to James, who cracks his knuckles methodically.
“We’re ready,” I say, moving to meet them. Then, to Key, “Listen, I’ll tell you later while we’re stuffing our faces with hot wings.”
He pushes his tongue into his cheek but nods, and a moment later, the four of us are stepping out into the blinding lights to a thunderous crowd. I head for my bass guitar on a stand at the far side of the stage, while Dave settles behind the drums and James slings his guitar over his shoulder. Key is the last to take position and I watch as he adjusts his guitar strap before stepping toward the microphone.
“Oakland!” he shouts. “Are you ready to repent for your Carnal Sins?”
There’s an explosion of noise from the crowd, and I watch out of the corner of my eye as Dave taps his drumsticks together. We’re off with our first song of the night—the first song on our debut album that went gold—and the crowd is insane. I don’t know if I’ll ever tire of this. The adrenaline rush of being on stage playing the music I helped write. That the four of us brought into existence with nothing but willpower and luck.
And I can’t believe I get to do it with my best friend.
Don’t get me wrong. We’re all a family, the girls too. Becks and Izzy? I’d do anything for them. But Key is like my brother. The other half of me. And while I know we give each other a hard time, that’s only because we know how much to push. That it’s all in good fun, and even though we disagree on a lot of things, I’ll never forget the way everything changed when he walked into my life.
* * *
Four pounds of superhot wings later, it’s two in the morning and I’m only just starting to come down from the high of performing. I might also be another type of high after smoking a joint with James in the alley behind the bar. But my whole family is here and happy. James sits with his arm around Becks, whose head is nuzzled into his neck, her eyes droopy from the late hour. Izzy and Dave are in their own little world, her knees propped up over his thigh like they’re the only two people in the room.
It makes me think of Cherry. Or Snuggle. Or whatever her real name is. I wonder briefly if she’s working tonight. What kind of call center does she work for? And what place requires her to work at night? I briefly imagine her dealing with irate customers over their faulty VCR equipment and have to stifle a laugh.
“Hey,” Key says as he wipes his face with a napkin. “What’s funny?”
“Just thinking of how much you’re going to regret that hot sauce in a few hours. At least our toilets are still working.”
Izzy scrunches her face. “Ew.”
But Dave narrows his eyes. “Why wouldn’t the toilets be working?”
James is staring at me now too, and I shrug. “Just a little problem with the plumbing, that’s all.”
“What kind of problem?”
Key licks his fingers and wipes them on a napkin. “Washing machine exploded.”
“Exploded?” James says a little too loudly, jolting Becks awake.
“Shut up. You’re so dramatic,” I say. “It didn’t explode. The hose burst.”
Dave rubs his forehead. “For fuck’s sake. Are you getting it fixed? You know my name is still on the lease for another three months.”
I wave my hand. “Yeah yeah, don’t worry about it. We’ve got it under control.”
“A plumber is coming out later in the week to fix it,” Key explains.
“Please tell me you took any wet clothes out so they aren’t rotting in the washing machine,” Becks asks, cringing now.
“Yes, Becks, the clothes are fine,” I drone. “I took them to a laundromat.”
“Really?” she asks.
Again, a grin pulls at my cheeks and I can’t stop myself. Key crosses his arms, but Becks looks concerned.
“Yeah, really. Don’t look so surprised. I am capable of being an adult sometimes.”
“Only when he needs clean underwear,” James chimes in.
“Are you all out?” Dave asks. “Is that why you guys didn’t bring any girls out tonight?”
I think about Cherry and suddenly realize I haven’t thought about any other girl since a certain beautiful redhead came back into my life. But it is unusual for Key, that liar. I knew he was in a funk.
“Bit worn out from the last one,” Key says casually and flicks me a knowing stare.
“Okay, I know that look,” Dave says, sliding out of the booth. “We’re out of here before I hurl up a pound of wings listening to the details of your . . . escapades.”
He pulls Izzy by the hands and wraps his arms around her waist from behind.
“It would serve you right after all the nights we’ve had to listen to you two going at it,” Key volleys back. “And you two aren’t any better,” Key interrupts James as he opens his mouth, who promptly shuts it and turns to Becks. But his face softens when he looks at her, and they share some silent communication through their eyes.
“Well, on that note,” James says, “Becks and I are heading home. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
We all exchange some goodbyes, and the couples head home.
Key shakes his head. “Thank god that isn’t us,” he mumbles.
I turn to him. “What do you mean?”
“Dave and Izzy. James and Becks. They’re all about their couple shit.” He looks up at me and smiles. “Good for them, but I’m glad it’s us. You and me. Girls only when we want them, you know?”
My stomach sinks. The only girl I want right now is Cherry. I’ve wanted her for two years, and if I ever manage to convince her to give me a chance . . . I don’t think a single night would be enough, which means we’d be dating. The prospect is terrifying, but this thing Key and I have going on can’t last forever. Key must know that too, right? “I don’t know. You don’t think it would be nice to love someone that much?”
He scoffs. “Love? Love is a delusion. A chemical reaction in the brain that eventually wears off. It’s not the fairytale romantic notion everyone says it is.”
My eyes widen. “Jesus. Who the fuck broke your heart?”
“No one,” he says a bit too quickly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I lean forward. “Come on, you don’t think what those four have is love?”
Key grabs the last wing from the basket and tears off a strip with his teeth. “What they have is a mutually beneficial relationship labeled by society as love. They get companionship and sex, so they fulfill their hormonal and emotional needs. But if either of those weren’t being met? You can bet the ‘love’ would die out pretty fast.”
My jaw is almost on the table. I stare at my best friend of almost eight years while he finishes his chicken. Finally, he looks up at me.
“What?”
I pull at my napkin and shrug. “Nothing man, just—I guess I never realized you felt that way about relationships.”
He stalls. “Joel?”
I look up and he gives me an expression I don’t see often. Softness.
“If love really is real, I think how I feel about you is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”
My chest tightens and it makes me swallow down the urge to tell him that I like a girl. That I plan to visit that laundromat every day until I see her again. “Thanks.” I clear my throat, unsure what else to say, and reply, “Ditto.”
I mean it. I really do. I love him. He’s my best friend. My brother. My bandmate. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a woman in my life. He’s my favorite person in the world, but what if I want a relationship? A girlfriend? A wife and a family? Will Key be left on his own, resentful of me?
“So,” Key says, wiping his face and sipping his beer. “What were you so smiley about earlier?”
Shit. “Oh, uh . . . I forgot to tell you something that happened at the laundromat.”
“Oh?”
I swallow, then grin. “Some idiot walked right into an open dryer door. Knocked him right down on his ass.”
“No shit?”
“Poor guy probably concussed himself. It was hilarious. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Chuckling, he nods. “Yeah, I’d probably be laughing about that for days too.” He drains the last of his beer, setting it down on the table between us. “And sorry, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For being weird lately. I’ve been a moody bastard and I know that’s tough to live with.”
“Yeah, it is,” I say dramatically. “Keep it up and I’ll have to divorce you.”