Chapter 5 #2
While he tapped and scrolled, the server brought my plate of food. “Yours’ll be ready in a minute,” she said to Zack.
“It’s all good,” my friend said, not even looking up. I didn’t want to eat until he got his, but I grabbed the bottle of ketchup on the edge of the table against the wall and squirted a dollop of it near the fries for dipping.
Zack tapped on his phone and held it in the middle of the table as it played a tune. There was no bass, no drums, not even a guitar. “What is that?”
“Harmonica.”
“Oh.” The tune had a mournful edge but it simmered with hope. And then a few guitar notes came into play, building to something.
“That’s the intro to what I hope will be our first single. And I swear we’re gonna sound like Riot—but it’s gonna be a step up. Do you wanna learn how to play the washboard?”
“What?”
“Washboard. Trust me,” he said, taking a fry off my plate and dipping it in the ketchup.
“It’ll sound great. You can have one of mine,” he added when I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ve been playing around with some midis, mixing them with the tracks, and I’m telling you—at least for the beginning of the song—we need a washboard. ”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“The only concern I have is how that’ll translate to the stage. I mean, do we prerecord that shit or do you actually play that section during the tour?”
As much as I hated to admit it, I was excited to start playing new music—and learning a new instrument wasn’t the scary venture it had been in high school. And if I couldn’t figure it out, then we’d go down the prerecorded path Zack had already suggested. “There’s one way to find out.”
“Yeah?” he asked as the waitress brought his food—and didn’t say a word, knowing we were deep in a conversation.
“Yeah. We’ll have to play the songs together a lot to get a feel for them before we get in the studio—and I’ll either learn it well or I won’t.”
“Good point,” he said before picking up one half of the triangle the cook had cut his sandwich into.
Inspired, I picked up mine too, all but moaning as the food hit my mouth.
It was far better than the simple sandwiches I made for myself at home.
The diner used Texas toast slathered in butter and melted shredded cheddar in between slices of American cheese with minced onion. As a kid, I’d hated it.
Maybe I was hungry after all. Or maybe it was the effect Zack had on me.
“So why didn’t you want all of us to hear this? Is it just because I have to learn something new?”
Zack put down his sandwich and pulled a napkin out of the dispenser, wiping his fingers off. “I just wanted to make conversation and let you know what to expect, but I did have an ulterior motive.”
Of course, he did. My heart started thumping in my chest as it dreamed of the future. Was Zack going to tell me how sorry he was about cheating on me and swear to never do it again? Had he come to his senses now that I hadn’t been in his bed for a while?
Swallowing, I also grabbed a napkin, no longer caring about my food. “Okay, no sense putting it off.”
His mouth kind of screwed up, almost as if he was trying not to smile—but that wasn’t it. I wasn’t sure what the expression on his face signified, but somehow my gut knew.
I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“You and Braden—you still a thing?”
The way he said it downplayed way too much. “A thing?” Immediately, I had to fight the urge to throw the rest of my hot cocoa on him. No matter how he felt about me, he obviously didn’t care about Braden either.
But I could try to keep my wits about me. “If by a thing you mean are we dating, then the answer is yes.”
My eyes remained intent on him, looking for any sort of sign that it mattered to him…that it hurt him somehow.
Instead, he picked up his sandwich again. “Okay. Well, you know my rules.”
“Your rules?”
“Yeah—just be careful.”
Oh…maybe he did care on some level. He didn’t want me to get hurt.
But, no, that wasn’t it at all. After beginning the meal with my Old Friend Zack, Rock Star Zack had reappeared, and he was in full heavy metal regalia. My mouth was screwed up, one eyebrow raised as I waited for him to continue.
“Remember my rules when you and me started dating?” The way he said the last word was loaded, full of contempt—and it made me want to spit out at him that we’d never dated.
We’d only fucked. That was the cruel, harsh reality of it. And his words now simply underscored it.
But he continued, not sensing—or just ignoring—my visceral reaction. “I don’t give a shit what you and Braden do, as long as you don’t fuck up anything in the band. Keep that line drawn and everything will be fine.”
I felt like I was going to have to swallow my tongue to stop myself from screaming at him. He—Zack—was the fucking problem. He was the reason why shit didn’t work. It wasn’t everyone else.
It was him.
I drew in a deep breath through my nostrils, nodding my head as my brain tried to find a rational way to say the words I needed to get out. More than that, I fought to keep my voice calm and low. “I think you need to add another rule.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he said, his voice cocky and full of challenge.
“I think we need to incorporate a no-alcohol, no-drugs rule while we’re on tour.”
“You just can’t let that shit go, can you?”
I was so proud of how my voice remained calm and in control. “When’s the last time you had a drink?”
“I’ve got a better question for you: how do I seem right now?”
Honestly, he seemed fine. He didn’t act like he had a hangover, even though I knew he might have been partying the night before—on his “date” with someone I might actually have known from our school days. I also didn’t smell any alcohol on him—and he was clean and well groomed.
I hated to admit the truth, but I couldn’t claim I had the high ground if I couldn’t be rational. “You seem fine.”
“Exactly. And this is all you’ll ever see from me from now on.”
“All right.” Glancing at my plate, I considered eating another fry—but what little appetite I’d had was gone.
“I’m telling you I don’t need rehab. I…appreciate that you guys love me enough to care, but I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
“And right now, I need to worry about my grandpa.”
Just that thought made me think of my own grandparents and how I’d feel if they had been acting like Zack’s grandpa had the night before. His mother must have told him about his grandpa needing to be helped in from the backyard. “How’s he doing today?”
“My mom scheduled an appointment for him with his cardiologist in Pueblo—so she asked if I could take him if she can’t get the day off from work. But gramps says he’s fine.”
I nodded, pushing my plate aside, but I didn’t say anything else.
“And I know he is, ‘cause when I talked to him, he was asking me about my date last night.”
My teeth clenched together, and I was afraid it would be obvious—so I just grabbed my hot chocolate—now lukewarm—and downed it.
That was the best reminder that it was over between me and Zack. I had to stop thinking of him as two parts of a whole—because Old Friend Zack had been gobbled up by Mr. Rock Star, and I knew there would be no going back, no matter how many glimpses I saw of his old self.
Rock Star Zack didn’t deserve my love and adoration. He could have my platonic love and caring, but I had to protect my heart.
And sweet Braden…he deserved nothing less than all of it.