20. Separate Ways
CHAPTER 20
Separate Ways
JOEL
A l tried his best, but first thing in the morning, that damn article is everywhere. I see it when I drive to the corner store for smokes. When I stop and grab some pick-me-up donuts for Key. That awful headline follows me everywhere.
When I get home, the phone is hanging off the hook. I set it right, wondering how it got knocked off in the first place, but a second later it starts ringing. And ringing. Reporters and journalists calling for a statement, clogging up the line with their barbed comments.
Key is no help of course. He must have been the one to take the phone off the hook in the first place, but no matter what I try, he refuses to get out of bed. James and Dave manage to get through once to ask if I have any new information from Key, and I feel sick to my stomach when I have to admit I have nothing new to tell them. I’m exhausted. Whatever Al is working on, I hope he comes up with something fast.
By eight the next morning the phone is already ringing again. I yank it off the hook, ready to scream at the motherfuckers to leave us alone, when a familiar voice speaks first.
“Joel, honey?”
My eyes widen. “Ma?”
“How’s my boy doing?” she asks.
I chuckle and shake my head. “Considering I almost told you to fuck off, not too great.”
A thoughtful hum vibrates through the phone. “I read the article. Nonsense, all of it. How could people think such a thing is true?”
I open and shut the fridge door for something to do with my hands. “People always want a scandal.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. How is Keith doing?” she asks.
I glance over my shoulder toward his deserted hallway. “Not good.”
“I figured as much. I sent you boys a care package this morning,” she says with some pep in her voice. While my mom knows she can’t solve every one of my problems, she’ll always make sure there’s snacks to figure it out with.
“Thanks, Ma.”
“So, other than the world falling apart around you,” she continues, “anything new going on in your life?”
I shrug. “No, not really.”
“Nothing at all?”
Hair the color of flames, that devastating kiss, and the smell of strawberries pull at my thoughts. “Actually, I met someone.”
“A new manager? You know I always thought that Simpson fellow wasn’t doing everything he could for you. The band still doesn’t even have a music video,” she criticizes. “How am I supposed to brag to my friends that my baby boy is a rockstar without showing them a tape of you on the television?”
I smile. “Mom, Al is great. And the reason we’re not on MTV isn’t because of him. It’s because of MTV. What I meant was—” I clear my throat. “I met someone.”
There’s a long stretch of silence. I check the phone jack, thinking maybe we’ve been disconnected. There’s a funny click over the line, but then my mom’s voice trills again.
“What do you mean, you met someone?” she finally asks.
“You know, like . . . a girl.”
“You met a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, that’s . . . wow, Joel. I’m happy for you. What’s she like?”
“She beautiful and funny. A redhead.”
“A redhead, huh?” The smirk apparent in her tone.
I roll my eyes. I can all but see her wiggling her brows. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead and say it.”
“Say what, dear?”
I sigh and wait.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” she chastises. “But I definitely told you so.” There it is. “I always knew a redhead would steal your heart.”
“Well, it’s hardly serious, Mom. She took a hell of a lot of convincing to go out with me, but I think I’ve turned a corner there.”
“Well, how could she not like you? You’re a famous rockstar! Albeit, one who’s in a bit of a sticky situation right now, but?—”
“I haven’t told her yet about the . . . uh, problem.”
“Oh, well . . . I would tell her straight away. You don’t want to start a relationship with any big secrets like that. Besides, women are great problem solvers—maybe she’ll have ideas of how to help.”
“You’re right, but I have to tread carefully. Like I said, she’s hard to get.”
She laughs. “She’s really making you work for it, huh? Good for her. She’s a stronger woman than me. When your father appeared in my life one day, it took everything in me not to?—”
“Okay okay, I get the point, no further explanation is needed, thanks.” I press my fist into my eyes and try to block out the mental image of my parents in any unwholesome situation. “So, that’s all you’ve got for advice, then?”
“The best advice I can give you is to be yourself. Be fun. If this girl managed to grab your attention, I doubt she’s a stick in the mud.”
Visions of the first time I saw Dusty spinning on that pole swarm my vision. Yeah . . . a stick in the mud is definitely not how I would describe her.
“Show her who you are. If you fake it now, it’ll never last,” she says. “And if she doesn’t fall head over heels for you, then she’s crazy.”
I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
She hums again through the phone.
“What? I know that tone.”
“No, it’s nothing. I just—” She takes a breath. “She must be some girl.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve never mentioned anyone to me before. What’s changed?”
I shrug and tap my fingers on the counter. “I don’t know. I mean, life has been great. Amazing, actually, up until all this recent bullshit. I never really gave dating any real thought . . . but there’s just something about her. I feel like I need to know her.”
“And what about Keith?”
My stomach drops. “I haven’t told him.”
“He’ll be the only one without someone.”
“But that’s what he wants,” I say a bit harshly. “He told me himself. He doesn’t even believe in love.”
A long pause, and then, “That sounds like someone who’s had his heart broken before.”
I—could she be on to something here? “Nah, you didn’t hear him.” I shake my head. “He definitely doesn’t want any kind of serious relationship.”
“If you say so.”
I run a hand down the back of my head. “I have to go, but thanks for the care package. I’ll call you when I get it.”
“Okay, dearie.” But before I can hang up, she says, “Everything’s going to work out for the best. You’ll see.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up the phone and stand, staring at the clock on the stove for fifteen minutes. My ma’s crazy. Key’s never been in a relationship before, let alone had his heart broken. We know each other better than anything. I’m sure if there had been a girl at some point, he would’ve told me.
Or is my mom right like she so often is? What if there was a girl? What if something happened and she broke his heart? Does he not trust me enough to share that part of himself? I open a cupboard with no real goal in mind, needing some way to occupy my hands. I need to stop before I get carried away, I know this, but I’m too far gone now because . . . what if I don’t know Key as well as I think I do? And if that’s the case, what about the songs?
I’m heading down the hall in a heartbeat, ready to shake him awake and demand he provides me with an entire play-by-play of his childhood so that we can figure out how to prove he wrote those songs. But when I open his bedroom door, he’s gone.
“Key?” I call, the floor creaking as I step into the empty room. I check a few more places, but he’s not there either. It’s not till I hear the sound of gravel that I think to check the driveway.
“Son of a bitch,” I shout, watching my car’s headlights bounce off our garage and disappear down the street. Turning on my heel, I head to the kitchen and lift the phone back off the receiver.
It rings and rings and rings, until finally someone answers.
“If you’re calling to ask about the article, you can fu?—”
“James, it’s me.”
“Oh.” His voice softens. “Sorry, man, I thought you were?—”
“He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Key!” I shout. “I just watched him take off in my fucking car.”
A pause. “Where’s he going?”
“Oh, I dunno, the store? We’re out of milk,” I mutter into the phone. “Does it sound like I fucking know where he went?”
“Okay, okay. Jesus Christ. Maybe he went to get smokes?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”
James sighs. “What do you need me to do?”
There’s nothing else I can do, so I grind my teeth and say, “Can you come get me? Drive me around and see if we can find him?”
“Yeah, man, sure. I’ll be there in twenty.”
I hang up and get dressed, my stomach tumbling like a dryer. As I pass by the kitchen, I glance at the phone again. I wanted to call Dusty today. Maybe arrange to take her out on another date. But now I have all this to deal with. Hopefully she doesn’t think I’ve forgotten about her.
James crunches into the driveway and I head out, climbing up into the front seat of his black van, and put all thoughts of Dusty on hold.
“Right, which way did he go?” James asks without missing a beat.
I glance out his driver’s side window and point. “That way.”
“Maybe he went to the studio? Or to see Al? They’re both that way.”
Something makes me doubt that’s where he’s gone, but at least it’s a start because my brain is too jumbled and anxious for much else. “Yeah, okay. Let’s check.”
James pulls out and drives, going a touch over the speed limit. I press my head back, digging my fingers into the leather bench seat.
“I’m sure he didn’t go far,” James says, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
I shake my head. “I just have a bad feeling.”
We’re quiet for a while, scanning side roads and parking lots for any sign of my Honda.
“Nothing down that way,” I mutter after an hour of aimless driving.
“Are you guys okay?” James asks.
I narrow my eyes. “Okay? What do you mean?”
James’s cheeks flush. “Well, I know you guys sometimes . . .” He rubs the back of his neck. Is he blushing? “Oh Jesus, don’t make me say it.”
“What?”
His face scrunches. “You know! You and Key and the girls?—”
“Oh!”
“I can’t believe you made me say it, you asshole.” He flicks his turn signal harder than necessary.
I try to smile. “No, I mean. I think we’re fine. I talked about it with him like two weeks ago. It’s got to be the songwriting shit.”
James lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure it is. Just wanted to check in case something had happened, and you needed to talk about it.”
“Like I’d talk about it with you, whittle baby Jamesey,” I tease. “You couldn’t even ask me without blushing.”
I ruffle his hair and he punches me in the arm. “Fuck off, dude.”
“You know, I didn’t realize you were so vanilla. From what I’ve heard of you and Becks going at it, I didn’t think you’d blush at the idea of a threesome.”
“All right, all right.” He waves me off, but I don’t miss the way his cheeks turn maroon. “And Becks and I are hardly vanilla.”
I grin. “Sure, kiddo. Sure.”
The sun begins to set as we reach the edge of the city, officially run out of options, and turn around. “I need to get gas and get home. But if he’s not home in the morning, I’ll come back and we can go out looking again, okay?”
“What if he’s not back by Thursday, James? That gig we have lined up in Concord?—”
“Canceled,” he interrupts.
I turn so fast my seat belt locks. “Canceled? Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“The article?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, man.”
“Shit.”
James takes a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t want to seem like a bummer when shit is already bad but . . . this little lawsuit problem? It might end up being a really big problem.”
“It’s just one show?—”
“But it’ll be more. The band’s tied to this shit now. Even if the lawsuit goes away, we might never be able to recover in terms of public opinion unless we can prove publicly that it’s bullshit.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying.”
“Do you?”
Is he for real? “Yeah, James, I do. What the fuck?”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I just—you two never take anything seriously and this is serious.”
“I got it?—”
“I just need to make sure that?—”
“I got it!”
He presses his lips together and sighs. “Sorry.”
My shoulders tense, and my stomach is in knots. I glare out the window and catch the last rays of the sun reflect off the windows of The Sapphire, the theater Dusty and I broke into, as it blurs past. I’m not too far from her place. Maybe she would let me hide out there for a while to get away from the press. Can I really go back to that empty house? Maybe Key isn’t coming back. What if this is over?
“Can you just drop me off here?” I ask when we stop at a red light.
James’s face crumples. “Dude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said?—”
“No, it’s fine. You should have. But I think I’m going to just walk around for a bit. I can grab a cab home.”
“You’re sure? Can’t be sending out a search party for you too.”
I smile. “Don’t worry, man. I’m not going anywhere.”
He nods and claps my outstretched hand. “Okay.”
Jumping down out of the van, I wait on the sidewalk as his taillights turn a corner down the road. I love the guy, but it felt like I couldn’t breathe in there. I know he means well, and he isn’t trying to blame me, but I know he secretly blames Key. And right at this moment? So do I. Not for the songs. I don’t think I could ever believe One-Punch Logan is telling the truth. But for taking off? Where the hell did that fucker go?
And why did he feel the need to run from me ?