Just without me.
“Gio? Is that a friend?”
“Only way I’ll answer that is if you answer a question from me. Tit for tat.”
Saylor’s whole body went rigid in front of me. It didn’t take a genius to get that she wasn’t keen on the idea.
I sighed. “And like for like. So if you wanna know who Gio is, I’ll ask who your best friend is. I won’t take it any deeper than you go. Deal?”
She studied the handle of her oar for a long minute before finally nodding. “Sure.”
“Gio is…complicated. He’s a friend. A coworker. A pain in my ass. But I guess I’ll settle on friend. We’ve known each other since middle school. He’s also the best drummer I’ve ever seen.”
The tension leaked out of her shoulders the longer I talked until finally she put her oar back into the water. “He’s in a band?”
“Yeah… Yeah, he is. Uh, who’s your best friend?” That was a smooth transition.
“Paige. But unlike you two, I’ve known her since grade school. We grew up on the same street. Graduated high school together. Went to UNLV together. Only she went for hospitality, so she’s working at Oasis at their arena. She organizes the suites and ‘gladhands the uber rich assholes who need help wiping their behinds.’ That’s a direct quote, by the way.”
“Sounds like a fun job,” I said sardonically.
Saylor scoffed. “Paige has a fancy title, but that’s essentially the job. Most days it sounds like a huge headache.” She stroked her oar through the water a few times. “Some days I wonder if I should’ve gone into hospitality too.”
“What did you go to school for again?”
“Elementary education. I still have to pass a test, but then I’ll be certified as a teacher. I just finished my student teaching session in a third-grade classroom.” She sighed. “I mean, I like the kids, but the administration and some of the parents makethe job not so fun. And don’t even get me started with cell phones in the classroom.”
“Hence the butt-wiping envy?”
She laughed. “Exactly. I could be wiping bigwigs’ butts instead of runny kids’ noses.”
“Sounds messy either way.”
“Truth.” She sighed deeply. The sound was sad and contemplative. “I really wanted to design clothes. But my parents refused to help me with college if that was going to be my major. I got so many lectures from my mom about picking something that had a career at the end of the degree. She’d tell me: ‘clothing design is a pipe dream.’ Or: ‘no one makes money as a designer.’ I swear she was more thrilled than I was when Trent proposed. She wanted me to get my MRS and didn’t care about my BA at all.”
That was more truth than I’d expected from her today. But before I could even absorb it, she chattered on.
“Uh, that was a lot of word vomit. It’s your turn. So what’s your super-secret job you won’t tell me about?”
“Um, that wasn’t my question. I asked what did you go to college for. And I didn’t go to school, so that’s my answer.”
“Oh, come on. I told you all about my bestie, my mom’s disappointment in me, my dream job, and what my job actually is. You gotta give me more than ‘I didn’t go to college.’ That’s a cop out.”
I didn’t want everything to change between us. But I was more than aware that the longer I waited to tell, the more wounded she’d feel that I kept it from her.
I didn’t know what the best move to make here was.
I wanted to spend more time with Saylor.
But I didn’t want to lie to her either.
And rigorous truth-telling was a pillar of my sobriety.
Shit.
I put my oar back in the water and stroked determinedly, keeping my eyes on the shoreline and away from her body in front of me. “I’m the lead guitarist for the Long Licks. Gio is our drummer. We just finished a two-year international tour and are on break for a few months. But I’m pretty sure our lead singer, Leif, is going to screw us and go solo. We only have one album left on our contract, which will probably be a ‘Best of’ album if Leif goes solo. So this might be the end of the Long Licks.”
That was more truth than I’d faced in a long time. I hadn’t even dared to say that last part out loud until now.
