“Our band plays Saturday night, you should come. Alice is amazing.” He glances at Alice and smiles knowingly when her cheeks brighten and blush at the compliment.
“Yeah?” When I realize that sounded like I’m questioning her talent instead of the fact that he’s inviting me to their show, I add a quick, “Okay.”
Alice smiles but says nothing.
“Listen, I hate to bring this party to an end, but we really need to get to band practice,” Taber says apologetically.
Alice nods and reaches out until her hand makes contact with my sleeve. Pulling me to her, she wraps me in a hug and whispers in my ear, “Thank you for Wax Trax…and the dance…and for not leaving me alone to get lost in my thoughts.”
My grip on her is awkward given our audience; it feels forced and unnatural. The opposite of how this felt less than twenty minutes ago. I want to melt into her and bury my face in her hair. Instead, I’m rigid and distant. A boyfriend looking on will do that. I’m also starting to sweat. I can’t ignore thethank youwhen she’s hugging me though, so I repeat what she said about Simon Le Bon in the store.
“You aren’t truly doing life justice if you haven’t experienced Wax Trax.”
She gets the reference and smiles when she releases me.
“Ready?” Taber asks Alice. “Our gear is already in the van.”
“Yup,” she answers, before she adds, “Bye, Toby.”
“Bye.” One word. It doesn’t feel like enough after all she’s given me today. I’m suddenly plunged back into reality when I hear Taber speak.
“Later, Toby.”
When I pry my eyes from Alice and dart them to Taber, he mouths,Thank you, again while he pokes out an elbow and prods Alice gently with it. I think he’s messing with her until she grips his bicep and he leads her down the sidewalk to an old panel van that’s beat to hell. It’s white and saysBob’s Appliance Repairon the side in faded red, cursive letters.
As I walk back inside, I’m kicking myself for accepting the invitation for Saturday night. I don’t have any spare money for a ticket. I don’t have any spare courage to actually show up. And I don’t have any spare hope that I can do friendship worthy of Alice.
Because I don’t do friendship.
I’m counting out, that’s a bad time to invite people in.
That thought opens the door to guilt and it stampedes me in a relentless barrage.
Guilt that I’ll let her down.
Guilt that I’ll hurt her.
Guilt that I like her as much as I do.
Guilt that she has a boyfriend who’s perfect for her.
Guilt that I can’t stop thinking about that Siouxsie and the Banshees T-shirt.
Guilt that I felt more today with her than all of my recent Friday nights rolled up into one.
Guilt that I’m even thinking about any of this because I’m a piece of shit who only has eighty-eight days left.
Guilt…
Guilt…
And more fucking…
Guilt.
Johnny comeshome around midnight stumbling drunk. So much for short-lived sobriety.
Chapter Nine
