I sit down on my bedroom floor to open the paper star Jayson left for me. Inside is a quote: "You weren’t just a star to me, you were my whole damn sky." I press the paper against my chest. Once I feel more settled, I read Maria’s texts.
Maria: Yo, girlie! U better text me as soon as U get up. Waiting for some juicy gossip.
Maria: Guess ur not up yet. Late nite perhaps?
Maria: It’s past 8! U never sleep past 7. Text me asap! On pins and needles about ur date.
Me: Just woke up.
Maria: There u r!
Me: Didn’t get home til late. How bout u?
Maria: Normal time.
Normal time? I bite my lip and ask myself, do I really want to know? Fuck it. I do.
Me: Normal time? No sleep overs?
Maria: Nope. Ry took me to dinner and brought me home after.
Maria: I did try to attack him in the car. He looked so f’ing hot last night.
Me: And?
Maria: Said he wanted to go slow. Wasn’t ready for that yet.
Relief pours through me.
Maria: Did my best girlie get lucky last nite? Jayson pop your cherry and eat it for dessert?
Me: U r so crass
And this is where I lie to my best friend, something I have never done before. I’m not ashamed of what Jayson and I did last night, quite the contrary. I do not, however, want even a hint of it to get back to Ryder. So I lie.
Me: Nope. Nothing major to tell. Jayson was very romantic tho. Lit our tree up with lights and hung paper stars with love notes in them. Made me a tree swing. Dinner was nice. Then came home and we went to forest fort and talked all nite.
Maria: Awwww. Im jealous. U guys are so freakin cute.
Me: Jayson coming in a bit. Need to get ready.
Maria: OK, chica. Talk 2nite. Ryder said he had to help his dad today so Im going back to bed.
Me: Hugs. Sweet dreams.
The need to go pound out some of my wayward mixed up emotions overcomes me. I head to the shower and decide that after, I’ll go release some of my nervous energy by wailing on my drums. Maybe Dad will join me.
Dad had to run into town but said we could jam later if I was still at the house. I grab the toast Mom left out for me and head to the music room. I take a seat behind dad’s Yamaha drum set he uses to practice with and twirl my sticks between my fingers deciding on what to play. Scrolling through my phone, I select Foo Fighters “My Hero” and press play. My phone is connected to a surround sound speaker unit Dad installed for the room. I love cranking up music and playing along on the drums to whatever song is streaming. As soon as “My Hero” starts and I hear the first beat at the beginning of the song, I quickly join in and lose myself in the tribal pounding of the drums. My arms and legs work in synchronicity, and I can feel sweat already trickling down the hollow of my back from exertion.
I’m so connected and lost in what I’m doing, I almost lose the rhythm when an electric guitar joins in, startling me. I’m even more taken aback to see Ryder in front of me, arms pumping down on the guitar strings, playing the melody. We grin at each other like fools, never once breaking eye contact as we play. Ryder ends the song with one last guitar riff as the music fades.
“I haven’t heard you play guitar in a long time. I didn’t realize how much I missed that.” My dad used to give Ryder guitar lessons just like me. It’s why we’re so comfortable playing and singing around each other. “You look so hot playing guitar.” I fan my face pretending to swoon.
“And you’re one sexy drummer. Want to do one more?”
“Absolutely. Your pick. Fast or slow?”
Ryder scratches the side of his jaw with the guitar pick in contemplation. “Another fast one. How about some Fall Out Boy? 'Sugar, We’re Going Down?'”
