Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
“Why do we do this?” Allie moaned. She walked, hunched over, to the empty floor space in the middle of the café and threw herself down, collapsing with her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Why do I always remember Thanksgiving as being fun ? It is completely not fun .”
Ren wasn’t far behind her, equally exhausted. They lay down beside her, and Allie ran her left hand over the stubble of their shaved head. It was the only motion her body had the energy to make.
“That feels nice. I am broken .” Ren let out a groan as they shifted their weight to the side to look at Allie. “Why do we do this? Every year?”
“How do we always forget?” Allie moaned.
“What would Mindy do if we left?” Ren whispered, eyes wide. “We could crawl upstairs and hide in your apartment. Would she kill us?”
“Yes,” Allie answered definitively. “She would. But I’d still try it if I was able to move, even a little bit.”
Mindy entered the room, drying a muffin tin with a tea towel, as if she’d just woken up from a fortifying night of sleep, and not spent the past twelve hours immersed in grueling kitchen work. The community dinner may have been the best night of the year at the café, but the prep work was always a nightmare. “What’s wrong with you two?” She gave them a disappointed glare.
“Mindy, are you a cyborg?” Ren rolled over and regarded their boss with suspicion. “Because there’s no other explanation for the fact that you’re still standing up.”
Mindy huffed and shook her head. “I’m more than twice your age and about to retire. And I’m not the one lying on the floor like a deflated chicken.”
“A… deflated chicken ?” Allie asked.
“About to retire?” Ren said at the same time. They sat up abruptly.
Allie forgot about the chicken. Mindy’s usually stoic face now betrayed an expression of momentary horror. Her body may have been unaffected by their hours of work, but clearly, her brain was getting sloppy.
Mindy and Allie had agreed not to tell Ren about the impending changes to the café until everything was settled. But neither of them had figured Mindy would blurt it out randomly after an intense day in the kitchen.
“Dammit.” Mindy finally seemed tired, slumping down the wall until she was sitting with her feet out in front of her.
“What’s going on, folks?” Ren asked, looking from Allie to Mindy and back to Allie again.
There was nothing to do but tell Ren the truth. Allie and Mindy looked at each other and had a short, silent argument with their eyebrows. Neither of them wanted to be the one to say it out loud.
“Folks?” Ren’s voice held a hint of panic.
Mindy, for all her usual confident bluntness, was looking mortified. Allie sighed and began the explanation. When she finished, Ren looked at her, bottom lip wobbling, eyes wet.
Allie lunged at Ren and hugged them. “I’m sorry. We weren’t going to tell you until it was all figured out.”
“It’s just”—Ren snuffled into Allie’s shoulder—“this is the only job I’ve ever had with a decent boss and, like, respect . And I know when I come in that I’ll be safe and it won’t suck. You know what I mean. I can’t imagine not working here.”
“We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” Mindy sounded uncharacteristically shaken as she leaned toward them. “No one wants your life to suck. No one wants you to feel unsafe. Even if you’re working for someone new.”
“But I don’t want to work for someone new!” Ren leaned back out of Allie’s hug and collapsed onto the floor again. “What if the new owner is a jackass?”
“I’m not going to sell my café to a jackass,” Mindy said with such certainty Allie wondered whether she’d already included a “no jackasses” clause in the deed of sale. She turned to Ren.
“And besides, it might be me! I might be the jackass you’re working for!”
Ren laughed and clambered up to grab a napkin off the counter to wipe their nose with. “Well, obviously, that’s the worst-case scenario…”
Allie laughed and slowly lifted her tired body off the floor. “Nothing is happening yet. We promise it will be okay. Now, I know Mindy’s going to make us peel potatoes until our hands fall off, so let’s get to it.”
Mindy was just getting back to her feet when they heard banging on the door. “We’re closed!” she yelled over her shoulder as she disappeared into the kitchen. Allie moved to follow her. It was Ren who actually looked at the person on the other side of the fogged-up glass.
“It’s Ryan!”
Allie’s head swung around. Sure enough, Ryan’s frame filled the long window in the café door. He smiled when he saw them and waved. Ren unlocked and opened the door. “Get in here before someone sees you and demands a latte or something.”
“Thanks, Ren.” Ryan nodded. “Allie, are you busy, like…right now?”
“What? This is our prep night.”
“I know, but something’s come up.”
Ren snorted and muttered something unintelligible as they walked back into the kitchen. Allie ignored them. She moved closer to Ryan. “What’s going on?”
Ryan pulled his notebook from the back pocket of his jeans and opened it, frowned as he consulted some scrawled notes, then put it away again. “Okay, so I was looking at one of the message boards, and there’s this show at the Royal tonight with a bunch of punk bands.” He pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen, handing it to Allie. “One of the bands is called the Sophomores, and look what this show listing says!”
Allie scanned the text on the screen until she saw it.
New guitarist Jessi Sophomore will be playing her first show with the band. The much-anticipated addition will no doubt send the band’s exploding popularity into overdrive.
She looked up at Ryan and handed his phone back. “You think it’s my Jessi?”
“It could be. So, are we gonna go?”
“Go where?”
Ryan tilted his head and smirked. “To the show.”
Allie laughed. “I can’t go to a punk show! I have a million potatoes to peel. I’ve been in the kitchen since seven o’clock this morning. And also, I haven’t been to a punk show in ten years. Never mind that Mindy and Ren would murder me.”
“Mindy! Ren!” Ryan called.
Their heads appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Yeah?” They said it in unison, and Allie laughed.
“Do you mind if I borrow Allie for, like, two or three hours?”
Allie shook her head. “I already told him I need to stay here.”
“Nonsense.” Mindy waved her hand as though Allie had just been in the way for the last twelve hours. “We don’t need you.”
“Yeah!” Ren chimed in. “We only have the potatoes left, anyway.”
Allie stared at both of them, her mouth open. “There are seven bags of potatoes to peel.”
“We’ll have it done in no time! Go with Ryan! We insist!” Mindy stepped closer to her and sniffed. “But change your clothes first. You smell like onions.”
Allie sniffed the sleeve of her shirt and had to agree. She reeked.
“I won’t be long!” She sprinted up the stairs to her apartment.
Allie knew if she thought too hard about what to wear, she’d end up standing in front of her clothes in a state of confusion for all eternity, so she reached quickly for a short-sleeved black cotton jumpsuit. It looked like the kind of thing a mechanic might wear. But cute . A cute mechanic.
She still had her Doc Martens from her band days. Her wallet and phone went into the jumpsuit’s generous pockets. Even though it had been ten years since she’d been to a punk show, she knew not to bring a purse.
Smelling significantly less oniony, she raced downstairs and hustled Ryan out the door before Mindy and Ren could make any ridiculous comments about them going on a date. They were seated beside each other on the train before she had time to think the situation through to its possible conclusion.
“What if it is Jessi?” She turned to Ryan, wondering whether he could sense her rising panic.
“Well.” He spoke slowly. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“I just—” A strange and surprising sadness washed over her. She tried hard to conceal a choking sob as the tears came.
“Oh!” Ryan frowned with concern. “Oh dang.”
Allie, not normally a crier, was caught off guard by her own extreme reaction. Struggling to get herself under control, she dragged the back of her hand across her face and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m worn out from work and still…digesting this whole thing.”
Ryan, with distress in his expression mirroring her own, reached his soft, wide arms around her and pulled her to him in a tight hug. Her ear was pressed against his chest, and their thighs were tightly pressed up against each other. She felt, through her sadness, that syrupy, heart-melting feeling again. She took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to her mind. “You always smell so good .”
A raspy laugh echoed in his chest, and she lifted her head to look at him. He met her eyes. “Well,” he said, still holding her, “I was never one of those people who thought showering wasn’t punk.”
Allie laughed and caught herself admiring his eyelashes. They were silent for a beat, staring at each other, but then the train lurched to a stop and the spell—or whatever it was—between them was broken.
Ryan slowly let her go and put his hands in his lap. “Do you want me to take you home? We can get off this train and catch the other one. We can be back at the café in a few minutes.”
Allie shook her head. “No. I want to go. I just had the thought all of a sudden that if it is Jessi, I’ll have to see her there, playing music with new people I don’t even know. And what if their band is great?”
“If their band is great”—Ryan smiled—“then we’ll hit the dance floor. But only if you want.”
“It would be weird.” She’d stopped crying but could still hear the notes of misery in her own voice.
“I get that.” Ryan put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Like seeing your ex with a new girlfriend.”
“Exactly,” Allie muttered. “Except they’re also onstage and everyone is cheering for them.”
Ryan widened his eyes. “Yikes.”
“Right?”
“Okay, yeah, that’s much worse than going to a party and seeing someone you slept with a few times.”
“Now you get it.”
“Well, I stand by my offer for us to just turn around and go back to the café.”
“Naw.” Allie managed a small smile. “This is the first year I’ve ever gotten out of peeling the potatoes. It would be a shame to waste it.”
—
The Jetskis had played at the Royal more times than Allie could count. It had always been one of the most reliable venues for shows in the city. She had very clear memories of loading their gear through the heavy stage door that opened into a very dank alley behind the club. Mimi had once hidden behind a trash can and jumped out when Allie and Jessi were carrying Jessi’s giant amp, causing Allie to scream and Jessi to drop her side of the heavy cabinet on her own foot. Mimi was the one who had to carry all of Jessi’s gear for the next several shows, as Jessi limped and glowered.
Walking in through the front doors as an audience member felt very weird. The club was dark but smelled cleaner than Allie remembered from a decade ago. It was what musicians considered a good room. There was plenty of space to stand in front of the stage, and the low ceilings made for excellent acoustics. The shows that her band had played there were always crammed with fans, wall-to-wall sweaty humans, singing along. For this show, there was a crowd, though not packed in so tightly that it was impossible to navigate. Some people seemed excited, but others looked bored as they sipped their drinks. The excitement of being whisked away from the café was starting to wear off. It had been so long since she’d been in a crowded room at a rock show. The heat of the bodies and the claustrophobia of the space made her stomach curl into a tense fist.
“Can I get you a drink?” Ryan leaned down to speak the words close to her ear. The piped-in music was loud. His soft voice and steady presence comforted her. Allie remembered that she used to bring earplugs to every gig she went to.
“I forgot earplugs!” she shouted at Ryan to be heard over the music. “I am so out of practice.”
“Well, that makes one of us.” Ryan pulled two packs of bright-orange earplugs out of the pocket of his coat. “I got you! Always trust your sound tech friends to look out for everyone’s hearing.”
Allie took one of the packets from him, feeling a zing through her nervous system when their fingers touched. She smiled at him. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I would like a drink. A vodka soda, please.”
Ryan nodded and disappeared through the crowd to the bar. Allie scanned the room for seats, but the few that existed were already taken. It would be a standing-up night. She looked at her boots gratefully, feeling as though she should apologize for ignoring them lately when they’d always supported her.
Ryan returned with her drink and an identical one for himself.
“You don’t strike me as a vodka soda guy,” she told him, taking a long sip.
“Ah. Well, that’s something you should know about me. I always order the same drink as the person I’m with.”
“You…what? Why?”
Ryan shrugged. “My family doesn’t drink, and I just never really did, either, until I moved here. When I was first living in the city, everything was so overwhelming and confusing I didn’t have the mental capacity to also figure out what my ‘signature drink’ was, or whatever. I got in the habit of ordering whatever the person I was with ordered. That habit just stuck. And now it just helps me match the vibe of whoever I’m hanging out with, so I always feel a bit more in sync with them.”
“That’s strangely charming.”
Ryan laughed. “That will be the title of my autobiography. Strangely Charming—The Ryan Abernathy Story .”
Allie giggled, starting to feel the alcohol taking its slow effect. Her drink was watery and weak, but it still helped calm the tension that was simmering inside her.
“You doing okay?” Ryan asked. “Your eyes are a bit, uh, wild .”
“I’m okay.” Allie sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s just maybe talk about something other than the fact that maybe Jessi is going to appear at any moment and I’ll have to decide what to say to her.”
Ryan nodded and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He slid the hand down her arm and squeezed her elbow once before releasing it.
“Oh, here’s something exciting.” He leaned closer to her. “I got myself some drums!”
Allie’s eyes widened. “You did?”
“Yep. Someone at the studio was selling a set. And I asked our apartment building manager if there was anywhere I could keep them, and he gave me a key to this very gross storage room in the basement, so now I have a very creepy practice space!”
“I’m happy for you and your scary drum room.”
“I knew you’d approve.” They clinked their glasses together. “I think I’m going to call it Doctor Worm’s Drum Studio.”
Allie laughed. Ryan’s affection for the ridiculous song about a drumming worm was another thing she’d classify as strangely charming .
“Are the Sophomores on first?” She wondered how long she’d be able to stand there in the crowd without wanting to fall asleep.
“No, sorry. They’re third. You gonna make it?”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Hang in there, Jetski.” Ryan put one warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed twice before letting go. Allie felt a rush of heat in her cheeks again. Minutes later, the first band was onstage.
Having to watch two other mediocre bands drained Allie’s energy, and she was hardly able to keep her eyes open by the time the second band was unplugging their guitars at the end of their set. She’d been leaning against Ryan’s warm, steady shoulder for the last three songs.
“They’re up next. You ready?” Ryan had been scanning the crowd diligently. Allie knew he was looking for Jessi. So far, nothing.
“I’m ready.” The exhaustion had the unexpected side effect of calming her down. As though her brain didn’t have enough energy to power the constant buzzing anxiety anymore. She stood on her tiptoes to see the stage and waited.
First, a man came onstage. A young guy with blond hair that fell over his eyes. He wore black skinny jeans and a hoodie. The crowd started to cheer.
“Hello, Brooklyn! I am Steve Sophomore, and we’re going to play a few songs for you tonight.”
A spotlight stayed on him, leaving the rest of the stage in darkness. Allie could see other bodies assembling behind him but couldn’t make out the details of any one person.
“Can you see anything?” she asked Ryan, whose height gave him an automatically better view.
“Nope.” He leaned from side to side, squinting at the stage. “Too dark. Hang on a minute. They’ll light things up when they start playing.
Steve introduced their drummer, a guy named Davey, and then the bassist, someone whose name was apparently Garbage. Spotlights lit up the band members as their names were said. Allie held her breath.
“And last but certainly not least!” Allie’s heart was pounding. “You know her from that other band!” The crowd roared. Allie’s heartbeat quickened. “But I know her as my little sister! Jessi Sophomore!”
His…sister?
The spotlight hit the last band member, and Allie could see immediately that Jessi Sophomore was a small, blond white woman who looked to be in her teens or twenties. The crowd around them was going wild, but she and Ryan stood still.
“Who?” Ryan pulled out his phone and opened a search. Allie didn’t care who the girl was or why everyone was so excited. All she could see was someone who was definitely not her Jessi.
“She was in a viral video.” Ryan leaned down to shout over the music. “She had some band with her friends in high school, and they did a song that got popular on social media. I guess this band started to get more attention because that guy is her brother. Her joining the band now is huge . Her real name is Jessi Kaplansky. She only took on the name Jessi Sophomore when she joined this band.”
Of course. Of course no one in this crowd would be this excited about someone from the Jetskis. Allie felt the sting of humiliation behind her eyes. No one cared about her band. No one even knew who they were anymore. They’d packed this room twelve years ago, and now they’d been replaced by this band and a million others. Other bands who managed to keep it together and keep going and get famous.
She leaned on Ryan’s shoulder again, more exhausted than ever.
“Allie, I’m sorry.” His voice was heavy with concern. “I should have done more googling or something, or checked some Facebook groups. I just got so excited…”
“Not your fault.” Allie patted his arm and gave him a weak smile. “You were just trying to help.” She meant it. Hanging out with Ryan was the only thing about this evening that hadn’t disappointed her.
“You wanna go?” He took her empty cup from her hand and placed it on the nearby bar. She nodded.
“Yeah.” She’d never been more eager to leave a show. “Let’s get out of here.”