Day 15 Haverhill, MA #2
River shakes his head, tsking softly. “Poor little Sam, always caring too much. Has he said anything about what’s going to happen when your tour is over? Made any promises?”
“No,” I admit ruefully, and River smiles in mock sympathy. “But it’s still new. He doesn’t have to make any decisions yet.”
“Oh sure, I bet that's it. He'll realize you're his one true love and he'll come out to everybody and he'll give up pussy forever. And you won't have to worry about slumming it with me ever again.”
“Are we done here?” I snap. “Because if you're trying to remind me what I've been missing, I think you've done a pretty thorough job.”
Just then, the back door opens, and Max pokes his head out. “Hey Sammy, are you okay? We need you for soundcheck.”
“Yeah, sorry, I was just —”
I look back at River, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Run along, Sammy, you don't want to be late.”
“You know what? Fuck you.”
I turn on my heel and stride towards Max, who's looking a little uncertain, chewing on his lip, his brown eyes huge in his face.
But when I get close to him, he grabs both of my hands, dragging me into a kiss.
And I'm feeling mixed up enough that I go for it, kissing him back roughly, letting him crowd me against the doorframe as my hands slide down to his ass, even though my heart is ripping in half.
I think I can hear River laughing, but I guess that's the point.
When we break apart, Max rests his forehead against mine. “Are you really okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah,” I lie, because my whole life is a web of lies, so I might as well keep going. “Let's go play some music.”
BLAKE
“So, how are merch sales going?”
Roxie plops down in the seat next to me, crossing her arms over her chest. Clever Girl finished their set a little while ago, and River is up on the stage now with his band, which he calls River Hawke and the Murder Birds because that’s the sort of person he is.
They’re a three-piece group, just like Roxie, Sam, and Max, with River on guitar and vocals.
“Pretty good?” I hold out my arm, and she scootches her chair closer to me so that I can drape it over her shoulders. “This crowd really liked you guys, I think. I even sold a few zines.”
“At least something good came out of this fucking gig, then,” Roxie huffs. She narrows her eyes, staring up at the stage as she leans against me. “Hey, you’re the most tolerant person I know. What do you think of that fucking guy?”
“River?” I take my time as I consider my answer, watching as he screams into the microphone. “He has a lot of opinions. But here he is opening his set with an Operation Ivy cover, just like every other band you've played with the past two weeks.”
Roxie shoves me with her shoulder. “That is the politest roast I have ever heard. I was just going to say that he’s a fucking cunt.”
“I mean, that also works,” I chuckle.
We let the subject rest for a little while, and I sell a patch and a button to a girl with blue hair and a ring in her nose who spends a few minutes gushing over Roxie and asking for advice about surviving in a band with boys.
(The answer is not to play with assholes, apparently.) But when the girl disappears into the crowd, Roxie tips her chair back on two legs and goes back to scowling at the stage.
“You know, if we tour next year, I don’t think we should do this gig again,” she shouts into my ear. “I don’t care what Sam says. It’s not fucking worth it.”
I look around the small club, spotting Sam and Max leaning against the opposite wall.
Usually, when we play with another band, they’re right in the middle of the pit having the time of their lives.
But tonight, they’re both standing still, not exchanging any words, and I can feel the tension hovering in the air between them.
I felt it during their set, too, even though the band played well.
I turn to Roxie. “You know, I think you’re right. We’re all just — off. And this is supposed to be fun, not a chore.”
Roxie smirks. “Of course I’m right. The sooner we get back on the road tomorrow, the better.”
I couldn’t agree more.
MAX
“Hey, has anybody seen Sam?” I ask the small crowd of people in the living room. We’re staying with River and his three housemates tonight, and the housemates are chilling on the couches with Roxie and Blake.
“Nope, not in a while,” Roxie drawls, opening one eye and regarding me from her spot in the corner of the couch. Her feet are in Blake’s lap, and she looks about ready to pass out.
“You might check the kitchen?” one of the girls suggests. “We have all the liquor and stuff set up out there and I thought I saw him go out that way.”
“Thanks, I’ll try that.” I head out back, and Sam isn’t there, so I’m about to continue my search elsewhere. But then I hear the sound of voices just outside the open window, and I move carefully across the room so that I can hear better.
“— I don’t see what the big deal is,” River drawls, and the sound sends shivers up my spine. “I never cared what a little slut you were, and you never cared if I had a girlfriend —”
“That’s because you didn’t,” Sam hisses back, and his voice is trembling with rage. “This is different because I fucking care. I’m not going to sleep with you, so get the fuck over it.”
River chuckles unpleasantly. “Hey, how about we go inside and ask Max? Maybe he’ll give you a hall pass after he sees some of the conversations we’ve had the past few months.”
“Fuck you —”
“Or if you don’t want me to do that, maybe we could just —”
There’s a brief scuffle, and then the sound of Sam’s voice. “Don’t fucking touch me —”
I wrench open the back door and step out into the yard. “Did he fucking stutter? He said no, dude.”
They both turn to face me, wide-eyed, and then River drops Sam’s arm and begins to laugh. “Of course, here’s the white knight to save the day.”
I step off the porch and down into the grass, squaring off against River and holding his gaze. He’s taller than I am, so I have to tilt my chin up, but I like to think I can be at least a little intimidating if I try to be. River takes a step closer.
“Gonna take a swing at me, Finley?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve lost a fight for him, but no.
I still have a week of tour left and I don’t want to break my hand on your face.
” I try to keep my voice steady. “However, I do think your housemates would probably be interested to know you’re out here trying to force yourself on someone who very clearly turned you down.
Back home, we’ve ostracized people for a lot less than that. ”