Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 

 

“How can he be busy on the one day we need him?” John asked frustratedly, pacing back and forth in front of the bus stop restlessly.

“Chill out, he’s got a job,” Paul said, sitting back on the blue bench and smoking contentedly. “We’ll need the money if he’s going to be in the band.”

“Temporarily in the band,” John reminded him irately.

“Whatever.”

“And how the hell does a sophomore have a job?” John asked, completely baffled as to why someone who legally shouldn’t have a job would want to work.

“He told them he’s sixteen,” Paul said, smiling proudly. “My idea.”

“They don’t check that stuff?” I asked, stealing a cigarette from his pack.

“Not when you’re lugging boxes off a truck, they don’t. It’s hardly worth the effort.”

“How much is he making?” John asked, nudging a rock with the toe of his converse.

“Minimum wage. He’s only a part time associate, but money’s money. At least he’ll be able to pay his own way in LA.”

“Poet,” I teased. He winked.

“He better be as good as you’re making him out to be,” John said scoffingly.

“He is,” Paul said, looking up at the sky dreamily. It made me want to kiss him. “He already knows most of our songs.”

“At least he’s got that going for him,” John said scornfully.

“Don’t be such a dick,” I said. “Benny’s cool. You’ll be glad once you hear him. I dare say you’ll be impressed.”

“Yeah, that’s what you all keep saying. Problem is, I can’t hear him if he’s not here.” He spread his arms and looked around at the empty sidewalk around us.

“Oh my god you are impatient,” I said, giving him an annoyed gaze. “Sit down and be quiet. You’re making me jittery.”

John finally stopped moving and smiled, enjoying the thought that his anxiety could affect a girl that way.

“Look at this bird,” he said, nodding at me. “You know Paul, I think Jimmy had a valid point about her.”

Paul, unable to hold a grudge for the life of him, grinned. “What, that she’s a s**t? We all knew that already.”

“Oh yeah, me a s**t. You’re the ones who’ll bang anything with two legs and a vagina. I’m the virgin here, remember? Pure as a dove am I.”

“Oh yeah, it’s us who’re the s***s,” Paul said, quite pleased with that image of himself.

“I actually meant that she’s got a thing for one of us. He just got it wrong about who,” John said, smiling roguishly.

I smiled, standing and walking slowly towards him, meeting his eyes. “Oh yeah, John,” I breathed, getting up close and personal. “I’m in love with you. I’ve longed to get my hands on you.” I threaded my fingers through his and looked up coyly at him. “The question is: do you want me?”

He raised his eyebrows, as always unable to resist a girl throwing herself at him. Only half joking, he wrapped his arms around my waist and murmured, “Anytime, Meg, babe.”

Smiling demurely, I jerked my knee up into his crotch. Howling, he leapt away, crouching and moaning, eyes watering.

“Dumbass machismo guy,” I shot at the back of his head. “Like I’d ever fall for your oh so errant ways, charming as they may be.”

Shockingly, he laughed. “You’s a b***h Meg.”

I blew a kiss at him. Turning away, I saw Paul watching us. His smile had faltered and I imagined confusion in his beautiful eyes. Those beautiful eyes that were trained on John. A moment later, his smile widened and the eyes brightened.

“Way to go, Meg,” he said, and I definitely didn’t hear anything but gleeful mirth in his voice. “Never trust a prude, John.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.” He straightened and limped to the bench, sitting tenderly. I leaned against the side of the shelter, smiling sweetly at him. He wrinkled his nose.

“Everyone distracted now?” I asked cheerfully.

“Oh yes, perfectly. Thank you Meg,” John said courteously.

“Anytime, John babe,” I teased.

“When does Benny get off?” John asked.

“Nine-thirty,” Paul said. “We have a while.”

“We’re going to be auditioning him on the bus. He has his guitar with him, right?”

“Never leaves the house without it,” Paul said, smiling indulgently. “He never lets it out of his sight. He’s completely in love with it.”

“Perfect,” John said absently. “Let’s get something to eat. You guys have money, right?”

“Always. My dad thinks you’ll die if you don’t have money with you constantly.”

“Not if you have rich friends.”

I saw the bus come around the corner. Pulling out my wallet, I retrieved my money. We got on, and rode to the mall near where Benny worked. We ate then wandered around, not really enjoying ourselves. None of us had ever been very comfortable when it came to being around our peers. Out of the three of us, Paul was the one who got along best with his classmates. We left around seven and sat outside, Paul and John pulling out their guitars from the protective cases. Playfully, they messed around, making up tunes and singing nonsense lyrics, then shifting seamlessly into real music, mixing their own music in with more well known stuff. The people passing by us all paused and watched, obviously impressed. A couple of people even dropped spare dollar bills and coins on the ground in front of them. I watched, stricken by how easily and distinctly they affected everyone around them. Being around their music had desensitized me to how talented they were. I was always a little startled at how people immediately reacted to them, and how strongly. It scared me because it was times like these that I knew they were heading somewhere, were already on the path to reach their dreams. Though I knew it was wrong, I wanted to grab them, cling to them, hold them back from flying and keep them with me. It was too hard to let them go, knowing they were spreading their wings and gathering strength for the take off. I knew they would never be happy in the mundane life of our town, that they had to escape for their own sanity, but still I wanted them to stay, selfishly wanted them to stay just for me. But they wouldn’t stay, couldn’t now they’d been infected with the need to fly. And now they would infect Benny too.

I tried to push those depressing thoughts away and focus on the people standing around listening to Paul and John instead.

That was a mistake.

The majority of those hanging back were girls (most of the guys, of course, were pretending to be indifferent to their effortless charm) watching with hopeful smiles, a lot of them scrutinizing Paul, my Paul, and whispering to each other in a giggly, sickening way. I glared irritably at them, but no one was paying any attention to the nobody on the sidelines.

Paul, caught up in his music, remained blissfully unaware of the female admiration milling around him. Only music could distract him from that. I knew if he had noticed the girls, however, he would have been delighted. I neglected to enlighten him.

As the night darkened and the air became cold enough to that my breath fogged out in front of me, the crowd drifted away and the guys’ fingers became too numb to keep playing.  We got up and began walking towards the department store Benny worked at, holding the tiny flames of our lighters beneath our hands and huddling together to keep warm. We waited outside the store and I found my mind making up little scenarios of how Paul and I could keep warm if John weren’t there. Paul lit a cigarette and we passed it back and forth between us. Tingles ran up and down my spine when I put my lips where his had been. I kept watching, trying to see what reaction, if any, he had when he took a drag, but I saw nothing.

“Hey,” Benny called, emerging from the store with a group of associates who all waved and called goodnights and goodbyes to him.

“Finally,” John grumbled. I elbowed him and he shot a grin at me.

Benny strolled over to us, guitar case over one shoulder, looking almost identical to Paul and John. He took the cigarette from my fingers and took a drag, relaxing slowly as he inhaled.

“Better hurry,” Paul said. “Last bus leaves in five minutes.”

We walked hastily to the bus stop, Paul and John leading the way. I kept pace with Benny, letting him finish my cigarette.

“Nervous?” I asked in a low voice. He shrugged.

“A little, I guess. Knowing them makes it easier,” he said.

“Really?” I asked. “Knowing them always made life harder for me.”

He smiled a little. “And yet you’re always with them.”

“Yeah well Paul’s good for sex, John’s good for drugs.”

“What am I good for?”

“Rock and roll!” I mimed playing a guitar. He chuckled.

We got on the bus and settled near the back. There were only two other people, one a sleeping homeless man, the other an exhausted looking middle-aged woman. They wouldn’t mind a little background music, would they?

“Alright, play something,” John commanded. I bit back a laugh at his imperial gaze.

Benny calmly pulled his guitar from its case and John handed him their portable amp. Benny plugged his guitar into the mini-speaker and tuned it without the help of a pitch pipe or tuning fork. Very clever, Benny, very clever, I thought. Examining John, I could see he had made note of it too.

Benny met John’s grand gaze evenly. “What would you like to hear?” I had to respect the slightly taunting quirk to his mouth, the vague suggestion of a challenge in his words.

“You know some of our stuff, right?’ John said, waving at Paul and himself, somehow making it sound like an insult.

What men.

“Yeah.” Benny glanced down, breaking the tension. In a different, far away voice, he asked, “Want to hear one of those?”

“It’s up to you,” John said as if he didn’t care. I shot Paul a warning glance. He just shrugged as if to say, Don’t look at me. I can’t control him.

Benny, without any warning, started a song that Paul had written called ‘Vulgar Girl’. Closing his eyes, he began to sing, forgetting his audience, clearing his mind of John’s doubt and disbelief, letting go of any mind games he’d been a part of a moment before. He played the song, not by memory, but by heart, as if he knew instinctively what must come next, simply following his hands, letting his fingers lead. The song ended, but he kept going, ad-libbing and leaving everything else behind. Lyrics were unnecessary. He just let go, allowing his talent to take the reins. I watched in stunned awe, knowing even John’s hardened heart had to be melted by Benny’s spirit and abandon. Even the cheap, tinny sound of the amp couldn’t reduce the quality of his performance. He was in the band, no problem.

And secretly, I hoped he would slip up, wanted him to fail. If he succeeded, they would all three head off to LA, along with David, and LA would fall for them as hard as I had and then where would I be? In our deadbeat town, going to school and doing homework and being unbearably boring. And friendless to boot. Go me.

Benny finished and his eyes flew open at our applause. He looked disconcerted and not wholly comfortable with our praise. He bit his lip, flushing.

John, unable to keep up his power-play from before, pushed Benny good-naturedly. “You’re way better than they made you out to be,” he said, grinning. I rolled my eyes at Paul and he smiled, winking. I felt warm inside at our connection.

Benny just laughed, ill at ease. “You liked it, then?”

“As much as I hate to let a fifteen year old in my band, I can’t pass up that sort of talent. You’re in.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Benny said, holding out his hand to John. Laughing elatedly, John shook it.

“Told you he was good,” Paul said. “Good thing Jimmy left, huh?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to inform you of this, but it’s your job to play bass now,” John said quickly, ducking.

“What?” Paul cried. “No!”

“Come on, buddy old pal,” John begged, still using the bus seat as a shield between him and Paul.

“But why? I loathe the bass!”

“Cause you know how to do it.”

“You can learn!” Paul protested whiningly.

“Nuh-uh. I’m fine and dandy with my spot as rhythm. Besides, I’m band leader and I get first pick of instruments. And I get to decide who does what. David’s a drummer, so he’s out. Benny hasn’t been playing our songs long enough to switch over so quickly. You’re our only option. And anyway, I know I can count on you. So there.”

Paul gaped at him, speechless. “B-but…”

“Cheer up, Paul,” I said, slapping his back. “At least you’re in a band, right?”

He whipped around to glare at me. “You are not helping Meg,” he snarled. I laughed. “And anyway,” he continued, full of a frantic hope, “I don’t have a bass guitar.”

“Jimmy left his,” John said, shrugging. “Shows what kind of musician he was, if he could bear to part with such a beautiful instrument.”

“But-but it’s not a lefty,” he stammered, desperate to get out of playing bass.

“Do what you did with your guitar. String it backwards. There’re only four strings.”

Paul gazed at him wildly, then collapsed dismally, his head hitting his chest, his shoulders slumping, his spine bending almost in half.

“I do believe he’s given up all will to live,” I said, prodding him. He didn’t look up.

“Buck up, Paul,” John said. “We all have to make sacrifices.” Paul didn’t answer and John looked at Benny and me, shrugging.

“Hey, I’ve got a question,” I said. “Are your parents going to let you skip out on school for this?”

“My parents support me in music,” Benny said, fiddling with an unlit cigarette. “They’re hoping I go back to being good at school, but as long as I’m happy they don’t really care.”

“Why don’t you quit?” John asked. “I did.”

“You have to be sixteen to drop out. And anyway, my parents already said they weren’t going to sign the papers until I’m at least a junior. Like I said, they’re still hoping my brain’ll kick in.”

“With fingers like those who needs a brain?” John looked down at the cigarette in Benny’s hand. “You going to light that or what?”

“It’s illegal. I’m on a bus. In case you’d forgotten.”

“A bus with two other people on it. Like they’ll care.”

“I’m not doing it,” Benny said, sticking the cigarette behind his ear with finality. “The last thing I need right now is to get arrested. Not when I’m planning to enter a night club illegally. I might as well be extra good until then.”

“No-o-o,” John said, smiling mischievously. “If you’re going to break the law anyway, you might as well start early. Watch this.” Holding onto the seat in front of him, he stood and called out, “Hey bus driver, sir! Mind if we have a smoke?”

“Not on the bus, kid,” the driver said, smiling into the rearview mirror. “You’re really good at the guitar.”

“Thanks,” Benny said awkwardly.

“Come on,” John said, turning up the charm with a tilt of his head. “Why not?”

“You’ll disturb the other passengers.”

John looked around at the near-empty bus with raised eyebrows. He turned in a slow circle to inspect the few seats behind us, stopping when he was facing the front of the bus again. Abruptly, he turned to the middle-aged woman.

“Miss,” he called politely. “Would you mind terribly if us ruffians had a really quick smoke?”

The woman looked at him with her tired eyes. She laughed.

“No, I don’t suppose I would.”

He gave her a puppy-like grin, then turned to the homeless man. Slowly, he raised his eyes to the bus driver.

“Doubt if he’ll mind too much.”

“How old are you?” the bus driver asked.

“Eighteen,” he replied innocently.

“And your friends?”

“In desperate need of a cigarette.”

The bus driver sighed, then chuckled.

“Well, I doubt too much if a no from me will stop you. If I’m caught, I never knew, got it?”

“Thanks bus driver!” Sitting, John looked at Benny, shrugging one shoulder. “See? No problem.”

Benny snorted, then reached up, took his cigarette, and held it out. “Want to lend me a light?”

John leaned over and held his lighter beneath Benny’s cigarette. Benny brought it up to his lips, took a drag, then, looking sideways at John, exhaled his smoke on a short laugh.

“You are really fucked up.”

Wiggling his eyebrows happily, John said, “Welcome to the band.”