“Fuck, man? Where’s your head at?” he says, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.
Ben’s house is a lot like his life—the paint is chipping off the front door, and there are sheets tacked to the walls over the windows. It’s like a cave inside it’s so dark. It’s a small house on the not-so-nice end of town, and I’d rather move back in with my mom than live here. But he was anxious to get out of his house, and the rent here was cheap, so he jumped on it. He’s kept his lease during the tour, though he always talks about how when we hit it big, he’s going to buy one of the fancy mountain homes on the other side of the hill.
“My head’s right here,” I say, not really in the mood to get into it with him. He has some beef with me being with Avery. I don’t know what it is, but I know enough to know it’s probably petty and stupid.
“Better be,” he mutters under his breath. A couple months ago, that would have been enough to send my fist into his face, but I just find it ridiculous now. That’s how the last year of touring was. Matt and Josh spent most of the shows so drunk they barely remembered how to play our songs, and Ben got high, drunk, and belligerent. I’m starting to think time apart wasn’t such a bad thing.
I pull out my guitar and take my spot on the stool; Josh sits up from the lounger, ready to go. “I was thinking we could start out the hour with some cool covers. You know, like shit we always wanted to try?” I say, looking at Ben, hoping this might just inspire him a little.
“We used to do some Stones,” Ben says, taking his spot behind the drums and giving it a little kick. “Oh, and you know what might be cool? What if we did some Johnny Cash?”
My friend actually looks alive, and for the first time in months, I see a hint of him again.
Avery’s already been at work for a few hours when I roll in. It’s funny how nervous I get before seeing her. I actually changed my shirt in the car because my other one reeked of Ben’s smoke, and I didn’t want her to not want to be close to me.
I pick a spot in the corner, far away from everyone else, because I want to watch her, and when her eyes catch mine the first time as she passes through the kitchen door, my heart actually beats twice as fast. Her lips pull up into the quickest smile, and she keeps looking back to me, to make sure I’m watching her. And I am—I plan on watching her until I follow her home and beg her to sleep in my bed again. Ray hasn’t killed me yet!
“Well, if it isn’t my only child,” my mom says, sliding into the booth next to me and patting my leg. “You and the boys playing this weekend?”
As crazy as my mother makes me, I do love her. She wasn’t typical, and she’s selfish as hell—but I’d probably beat the shit out of anyone else that talked bad about her. And I still don’t believe any of her boyfriends have deserved her.
“We’re playin’ Friday. You working?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she winks, leaning into me.
We’re quiet at the table together for a few minutes, just watching people walk in and out of the restaurant. There’s a certain tension to our silence—an awkwardness that started when I was a teenager, and our relationship changed. I don’t know what set it off, but I quit being her little boy, and I think maybe not needing her made her resent me a little. It sounds stupid, even now in my own head, but we both started pulling away from one another at the same time. And I think she’s always regretted it. Hell, maybe I have too. I can tell my mother wants to talk now, but she can’t seem to speak.
“I uh…I finally kissed Avery,” I say, biting my lip and looking at her sideways. My mom is a romantic at heart, so I know telling her this will make her smile—and for some reason, I feel like she needs to smile.
“I heard! Sorry I missed that little speech you made. Claire told me all about it,” she smiles, and my mom actually looks proud of me. “You know, I always wanted you to give that girl a chance.”
“Sure you did,” I say, rolling my eyes. My mom always prided herself on being some great matchmaker—for everyone other than herself.
“Roll your eyes at me all you want, Mason, but I always thought Avery would be good for you. She’s grounded,” she says, her eyes looking out over the growing crowd, and her face a little more serious than I’m used to. “You’ve got a lot of me in you. We’re dreamers. And that’s…that’s a good thing. But sometimes you need to remember about the important things here on the ground. Not just all that tempting stuff that’s up in the clouds.”