5
It was agitation, pain, pleasure: a something between delight and misery. —Persuasion
April will be here in a few minutes and, coward that I am, I invited a crowd to create a buffer between us. I’m terrified of what I might say if I am alone with her. It’s bad enough the stuff I said yesterday in front of everyone. “The love of his life is gone.” Could I be any more emo and dramatic?
My plan was to be cool and friendly and so chill. I meant to treat her like any other woman. That lasted for what, all of three seconds. Then I saw her curly head bent over her plate as she pushed her fork around in scrambled egg whites with grim determination. She glanced up with those wary sea-water eyes and an uncertain smile... and I lost all my chill. I was in her house. After five years, she was only a few feet from me. I felt like I was seeing a ghost. And everyone else acted like it was a typical Saturday morning. I don’t know how I walked over to the table. Rosie and Daisy must have carried me. And when I sat across from April, I caught a whiff of her perfume, so shockingly familiar that a wave of memories overtook me. I remembered the feel of her in my arms, her warm body next to mine.
Suddenly everything that we lost felt so raw and real. I didn’t handle it well. In my head, I’ve forgiven her for dumping me without a good explanation and never reaching out... and going to my concert with Johnny Love, of all people. But when I saw her in person, the wound opened, fresh and excruciating. I have no idea what I would do if I were alone with her. Would I yell at her or kiss her? That is why, after surfing yesterday, I thought it wisest to invite Benwick over this morning. He normally protects his composing time, but he agreed to come because—big surprise—he’s also an April Rain fan.
At half past nine, he arrives at the Musgrove’s bungalow, where I’m staying, hugging two April Rain albums.
“Do you think she’ll sign these?” Benwick is so excited he’s almost smiling. Not full-on smiling, mind you, but one corner of his mouth is definitely turned up.
“Absolutely.” April was always so generous to fans. Whenever I grow irritated with my fans, I remember how patient she could be, especially to the ordinary people, the NVIPS she called them, Not V.I.Ps. The ones who scraped up their savings to attend her shows and meet their idol.
“Is she as pretty in real life?” he asks. Benwick would never call a woman hot. Still, I’m surprised he used such a pedestrian word as pretty and didn’t go for something a little more poetic, such as radiant, resplendent, sublime, alluring, ethereal, effervescent, dazzling, devastating, tormenting, to name a few. I could list adjectives to describe April all day. Not that I do. Benwick was a poet before a songwriter and still spends much of his time lost in old poetry. That’s why Carlos often passes him off to me. Bookish people are a bit of a mystery to my manager. Carlos and I are friends because I play basketball and football and we lift together. He’s not sure what to do with Benwick.
My phone buzzes. It’s April. My heart ramps up.
april
On my way
Chill. Chill. I remind myself. I put my phone in my back pocket.
“Was that April?” Benwick asks, and I feel my face redden. “Looks like you are a fan, too?” He eyes me, his almost smile progressing to a smirk.
“Yeah, April’s cool.”
“I bet.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “But seriously, that took courage pausing her career to go to school. I admire that.”
“Me too,” I answer curtly. I don’t want to talk about April with Benwick.
There’s a knock. Through the sliding glass door, I see it’s the twins—my other guests to stave off an awkward encounter with April. Rosie holds a tray of cinnamon rolls.
Benwick takes one. “Don’t mind if I do!”
“Wait! You have to pay for those,” she says, teasing in her voice. Ah! Rosie. She will flirt with anyone, even grumpy Benwick. Good luck with that.
“Pay for them?” he asks around the massive bite already in his mouth.
“Yes, they are incredibly pricey. They cost one smile.”
Benwick scowls.
“C’mon, I just want to know if it’s physically possible for you to smile.”
Benwick swallows before giving her a gritted teeth psycho killer grin. It’s truly creepy. “How’s this?”
“Horrifying!” Rosie sounds genuinely disturbed.
Who says Benwick has no sense of humor?
“That’s worth two cinnamon rolls,” says Daisy.
Benwick snags another one and winks at Rosie.
I’m too nervous to eat, so I take up my guitar and pluck a melody that has been running through my head. I glance up. April steps on my patio, wearing a white sundress with wide straps and heeled sandals. She looks annoyingly adorable. Did she dress up for me? You would not guess it looking at my shorts and faded T-shirt, but this is the third shirt I tried on and modeled for my sister Kai this morning. Kai does not seem to get what I’m so worked up about.
“If you want to date her again, ask her out.”
“I don’t want to date her. I want her to burn with regret.”
“So mature.” Kai took a bite of an ice cream treat. We were Facetiming, so she could give me her opinion on what I wore.
“Wait? What are you eating?”
“A creamsicle,” she answered.
“For breakfast?”
“Don’t be so judgy. It’s milk and orange juice. Add eggs and it’s a complete breakfast.”
I miss my sister. I hate that she has moved back to the island. “Don’t make this about me. You called because the woman you’ve been pining over...”
“I have not been pining. I dated plenty since...”
“None of those count... You’ve never gotten over April. Which is great because I’m team April.”
“Aren’t you supposed to take my side?”
“I did. I have. That doesn’t mean I don’t like her. Or that I don’t think you two would be good together.”
“She came to MY concert with a date, Johnny Love no less.” It was inevitable April would move on. But I expected her to have better taste than Johnny Love; the guy oozes insincerity.
“You don’t know he was her date? Possibly that was just for publicity. You won’t know until you talk to her. If you ask me, she’s still hung up on you.”
“Not likely . . .”
April gives me a shy smile and waves as she makes her way towards us. She’s still hung up on you. Could Kai be right?
“Hey.” My voice comes out low and unsure.
“Hi!” she answers a little breathless, removing her sunglasses. She does look nervous. Maybe Kai is on to something. I risk it and look at her. Really look at her. She is close enough that I can see the reckless toss of her curls as they frame her pretty face. I have this irresistible urge to run my fingers through her hair. I fist my hands and put them in my pockets. She blinks her short black lashes open and close, revealing swirling sea-green eyes, studying me. Something inside me thaws under her gaze.
“Are you going to introduce me?” Benwick bursts our little bubble.
“April, this is Boris Benwick. His band, The Dead Chickens, will be opening for my next show.”
“Ben, this is . . .”
“April Rain needs no introduction.” He turns to me with a slight look of chastisement. He beams at April. “Can I hug you?” he asks.
April pulls him in for a hug. So we’re hugging now. Where’s my hug? And wait one minute! Did Hollywood freeze over? Benwick is smiling, a genuine smile. I’m not sure if I’ve seen him do anything more than smirk our entire acquaintance.
April compliments one of his songs. He’s blushing as she gives him her full attention. Everyone watches.
Rosie whispers in my ear. “I didn’t even know Benwick could laugh.”
“Me either.”
“April is like that,” says Rosie. “She brings out the best in everyone.”
All I can do is nod. April asks Benwick a question about a riff in his song. He borrows my guitar and sits on a concrete bench. She takes a seat by him.
Rosie hands me a cinnamon roll, which I mindlessly bite into. “Looks like our favorite emo singer has a crush.”
“I never thought we’d see old wet blanket move on,” says Rosie.
“You mean Benwick?” I ask, surprised.
“Who else?” She looks at me quizzically. “They’d be a cute couple.”
I hear snatches of their conversation. They talk about Grace, Benwick’s girlfriend, who died last year. “Everyone thinks I should be over it by now,” he says.
“You’ll never get over it, not really. Grief is just another form of love.”
“You know something of loss.” Benwick begins. I stiffen. April hated to talk about her mother’s death, especially with strangers. I take a step to intervene, but Rosie places a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“You’ve got frosting on your face.” She takes a finger and dabs at the corner of my lips, catching a big smear of frosting. She licks it off with her finger, giving me a seductive smile. I roll my eyes and hurry on. I lick around my lips again, hoping to catch anything else I might have missed. I can’t look like a total animal in front of April.
I sit on the bench next to Benwick. I’m too late to play interference. She’s already telling him about her mom. But she doesn’t appear upset. April seems relaxed, making me feel like the most awkward third wheel.
“I can see how hard that would be. It was different with my mom.”
Benwick nods along and places a hand over hers. This small gesture has me breathing fire.
“I see you have an understanding heart,” Benwick says. “Like Freddy. He has helped me so much this last year.” April smiles at me. I shrug modestly.
“So, are we going to write a song or what?” she asks.
“That’s right,” says Benwick, an idea flashing across his face. “But maybe when you two are finished, April, would you like to go get coffee with me?”
“Oh! Well...” April’s eyes dart to mine. Is she asking for permission? Making sure I see that other men desire her? I see that just fine. I do my best to show absolutely no emotion, though I fear a muscle on my jaw is ticking. She turns back to Benwick with a big smile. “Yeah, that sounds really... nice. I am meeting someone for lunch today but maybe tomorrow.”
She is meeting someone for lunch? So, she didn’t dress up with me in mind. My mood darkens. Of course not; I’m still the part-time lifeguard living in the cruddy apartment, dreaming about the pop star.
“Yeah, that would be awesome,” says Benwick. And now I know the world is totally coming to an end because he has a big goofy, lovesick smile.