Chapter 32 Jessa #2
But there’s no one lined up outside, and when the clock hits eight I’m still sitting on my stool with Dwayne rattling off interesting facts about the latest release by Counting Crows. I’m not really paying attention, so when he hits my arm with the pricing gun, my two-cent price tag startles me.
“Care to share with the rest of the class, Jessa?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re obviously not happy, and completely distracted, and definitely stoned, so what’s going on?”
I look at Dwayne, a big brother with his shit together, a musical soulmate, and probably the only person left in my life who I can trust. His face is open and ready to listen.
He never pushes me; just opens doors and gives me opportunities.
I wish people in high school could be like this. I wish my parents could be like this.
“Bird and I took a break.”
“Man, that sucks,” he says, tugging at the knit cap he currently has containing his long-ass locs. “Your call or hers?”
“Mine.” I look down at my hands, chipped black nail polish, chunk of the right forefinger nail gone, knuckles clean even though I wish I’d punched something until I bled.
“Any particular reason or you just miss the single life?”
“She hid something from me. Dade’s girlfriend is cheating on him and she told Bird and Bird didn’t tell me. I didn’t know what to do… so I said we needed a break.”
He smiles sadly at me, and I can tell he’s thinking it over.
“Why do you think she kept it from you?”
“She said it wasn’t mine to know, or tell, so I guess she never trusted me.”
“You sure that’s what she said?”
“Well she said the first part.”
He drums his fingers on the counter, a thump, thump beat that I think I recognize but can’t quite place. “Well, if you’d known, what would you have done?”
“Let Dade know.”
“And then where would she be with her friend?”
“Fuck that, she’s cheating!”
“Fair, but she’d all of a sudden be responsible for sharing a secret. Breaking her trust with her friend. Cheating is fucked up, but don’t you think there’s a better way for Dade to find out? I’ll be honest, everyone finds out eventually.”
I hadn’t thought much about the impact to Bird, but Dade wouldn’t listen to me anyway, my word is shit with him these days.
He’d think it was another trick to break them up.
Regardless, she didn’t even try asking me if I’d wait, if I’d find a different way.
She made the choice for me, and that royally sucked.
I shrug and Dwayne waits for some kind of response, but I honestly don’t have one.
Then the bell on the door jangles and in walk our first few customers.
The stream is steady but not overwhelming, and on some level I’m thankful not to have to answer Dwayne’s question.
I don’t have these answers. I sure as shit know Bird didn’t have them when she made her decision to hide it from me, but somehow the hurt of her omission is becoming less bitter than the hurt of her absence.
Still, I feel like I have to get my feelings in order before I try to make things work.
My head feels fulla bees, and maybe a little hardcore rock might knock them out and make way for Bird.
It’s nearing five o’clock when I decide to head out to the Touchstone show going on tonight. A mix of noise rock and punk as usual on Friday, but they often play some brutal covers of Christmas songs when we get closer to the holiday.
“Jessa!” Dwayne is walking up to me with a bag and hands it to me.
“What’s this?”
“A little show of thanks. And a gift. You’re always welcome here, and I appreciate your help. Honestly, if you want a gig this summer, you know you’re hired, right?”
“Thanks, man, but I think of this as free music education.”
“Fair. Enjoy the stuff, and think about making up with Bird. Haven’t seen you happier than when you’ve been with her. That’s special.”
“Thanks, dude,” I say, and wave to him on my way out. When I get in the car, I look in the bag and there’s the CD and vinyl of the Butchies album, those sepia-toned faces staring back, me looking at them.
Falling’s just a game you play.
My mind is still a jumble, but I know one thing for sure: I do miss Bird. A lot.
The drive to Touchstone is done in my own uncomfortable silence.
I’m in my car hotboxing—for the second time today—then I’m chatting outside with Tuck, then I’m inside helping slice fruit for the bar, then the bartender does a shot with me.
I watch the door a bit and Tuck brings back shots.
I go blast my ears with noise rock and wander back to the bar, where the pours are dependable and handed to me without a second thought.
I’m not a big drinker, so I’m spinning by the time I flop down on the gnarly couch in the back of the stage area.
I know I must be fucked up, because this thing is rumored to have so much old beer, spunk, piss, and probably all sorts of diseases that I would never touch it in my right mind.
Jesus, Gwar had a small orgy on it, according to legend.
I lean my head back to look at the band stickers and spray-painted symbols on the ceiling, watching them fluctuate with the music, the heavy beats bleeding into the shrieking guitar, a cacophony that knocks out any thoughts, any regrets.
I’m filled with the everything-nothing of a raging, second-rate local band.
“Heyyyyy, ladyyyyy!” Natalie arrives and flops down beside me, giving me a side hug. “Didn’t think you’d be here tonight! Don’t you have better shit to get into?”
“Like what?” I say, and can hear the slow slur in my voice. Alcohol. Yay.
“Um, I dunno, like Bird Nardino’s pants?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Come on, Jessa, I’m not an idiot.”
It seems so important all of a sudden to keep Bird’s secret, to keep that closet shut until she wants to open it. “Bird and I…”
“Spend all your time together, work on projects, and get shit on by Olivia Rubens.”
“Is she spreading this shit?”
“Mildly guessing at it, more so than telling others. I think her boyfriend has been the main offender.”
“Well, that’s fucked up,” I say, and tilt back the Pbr I’ve been nursing.
“So, where’s Bird?”
“Flew away,” I say, hoping to hold back the rumor mill.
“Damn.”
“Yeah, damn.”
There is a way to get the rumors shifted, and I can see at least three people from our school in the crowd watching Natalie, because Natalie is hot and watchable.
I can protect Bird, but it’s gonna hurt her too.
I don’t know which is better, and the weed and booze in me are making the decision hard.
“Pick a number between one and five,” I say to her.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Five,” she says, making my choice for me.
I lean forward to kiss her.
I’ve been rejected before. Been slapped, cussed at, called names. Threatened with vengeance from boyfriends. Threatened in general. But Natalie doesn’t do that. She leans back, her lips shifting away from me. My world spins a little, and she puts her hand on my shoulder, pushing me back gently.
“No, Jessa,” she says softly.
“Why?” I can feel hot tears running down my face without my permission, the thick notes of sadness in my voice.
“Because you don’t want me.”
“I do,” I say, starting to sob against my will. “I want something.”
“You want Bird. I’m not willing to be your relationship suicide.”
“What if that’s what I want?”
“It’s too easy for a smart girl like you. I think you can figure out a better solution,” she says, and squeezes my shoulder.
I nod. I don’t want her. I want anything to save Bird, to keep her from being outed by her stupid evil stepsister, or god forbid Dade shares anything I told him about my crush on her because he hates me… or whoever else assumes things and then shares the lies. Or, in this case, the truth.
“Now, you are trashed and I don’t have a ride home, so let me have those keys. I’m driving back to my place and you, my friend, are sleeping it off. In the car.”
“It’s gonna be cold.”
“I’ll bring you a blanket.”
It’s all a bit hazy as we get to her place, as I get into the backseat, as she brings me the blanket and a Diet Coke and some Tylenol.
As I lean into the heady sleep of the drunk, trying to figure out any way to save Bird from being outed, as I drift in and out of consciousness.
Only something bigger, more juicy, will fix this.
Somehow the school needs to find out about Kayla cheating on Dade.