Words I Might Have Ate

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“What if,” I stop playing suddenly, Blue dangling from around my neck as I run a frustrated hand through my hair. I look through the glass window at Rob, who is sitting at the mixer board. “What if it went dun dun DUN, instead of dun dun dun? Like on the 7th fret during the interlude,” I play an example quickly.

Rob looks thoughtful, the rims of his glasses glinting in the artificial light. “That could work, play it through on the 7th and we’ll listen to the playback.”

I turn back to Mike and Tré and offer them a timid smile. “You know what I’m talking about?”

Mike nods as he adjusts a tuning peg on his bass. “Just go up half?”

“Yeah,” I glance back at Tré who gives me a weary thumbs up, his signature smirk a bit faded. And understandably so, we had been in the recording studio all afternoon working on the record and it was going on one in the morning. Both Mike and Tré had worked in the morning and with only one break between entering the studio and now, it was no wonder they both looked like they were about to collapse. “Are you going to make it?”

Tré waves me off easily, reaching down for his water bottle just as Rob comes over the speaker again. “Last take for the night and then I’ll let you guys go. Ready?”

I turn back to the microphone and place my fingers on the frets comfortably. Tré counts us in quietly before we all start playing together, the music coming out easily. I close my eyes as I play, getting a bit lost in the music. As I step up to the microphone, I am aware of how much better the song sounds playing half a chord down on the 7th fret and I smile as I begin to sing the lyrics.

Twenty minutes later, after listening to both tracks in the producer’s booth with Rob, we decided unanimously that the song sounded better with the chord progression change that I had made. We packed away our things and agreed to come back in the next day to finish recording the last few songs.

As we walk to Mike’s car quietly, my mind reflects on the past couple of weeks. Things had been hectic. Reprise had sent us into the studio so that we could record our first album. They wanted it to be finished as soon as possible so that our CD could drop right before Christmas. Apparently a December release would boost our sales immensely what with the holiday shoppers and everything.

But before our album could drop, we needed to pick a single to be released. The engineers were leaning more towards one of the slower tracks on the CD, but I wanted Longview to be our first attempt at going national with our music. Rob was leaning more towards our re-recording Welcome to Paradise as our first single, but I wanted something new and exciting and different. Our fans had already heard that song and I wanted to come out with something better.

Mike starts up the car and I fold myself into the passenger seat before I carefully tuck Blue in-between my legs. He reverses quietly before we start to drive and for the longest five minutes of my life, the car is silent. But then I lean over the console and fiddle with the radio knobs.

Just as I settle on an local station that plays decent rock music, Mike glances at me. I catch his profile out of the corner of my eye before I turn and look at him questioningly. “Can I help you?” I ask bluntly, arching one eyebrow up at him.

Mike laughs, rubbing an open hand across the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” I prod him on gently.

He shrugs just as Tré unleashes an almighty snore from the backseat. “About your school work.”

Immediately my stomach tightens uncomfortably and I shift in my seat, well aware of the fact that since completing my novel, I had yet to sit down and work on my calculus packet. That had been a good two weeks ago already.

“What about it?” I try to play it off, hoping that he wouldn’t catch the faint tremor in my voice.

“Are you still going to do it now that we got the recording contract?” Mike makes a rolling motion with his hand. “I mean the whole point of you going back to school with Dave was so that you could get a better job while we were waiting for Green Day to get signed. And now that it’s happened, are you going to just say fuck it and forget about it?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug, staring out my window at the city lights that go flying by. “I guess I’m a bit torn.”

“Torn? What do you mean?” Mike turns the radio down so I can have his full and undivided attention.

I make a face, struggling to come up with suitable words. “I mean I guess it doesn’t make sense for me to still be working on my high school diploma—we have the recording contract and we’re good at what we do. I have no doubt in my mind that what we’re doing is the right thing.”

“But,” Mike trails off, trying to watch me and also keep an eye on the road.

I sigh a bit, slouching down in my seat and putting my feet up on the dashboard. “But I kindof want to prove to everyone that I can finish this. It’s like everyone just expects me to fail at this because I start stuff all the time and never finish.” I run my fingertips down the seam of my jeans lightly. “I want to be able to prove them all wrong.”

“But what do you really want to do about it?” Mike asks, signaling left and turning just as the light turns red.

I shake my head, pursing my lips as I reflect on the past couple of weeks. Things had been chaotic but I knew that what we were doing was the right thing in the end. “I-I don’t know what I want.”

“It’s simple, Beej. Do you want your high school diploma or not?” Mike sounds so reassured and calm about the entire thing. But that’s easy for him to say, isn’t it? He already had his diploma; he didn’t have anything to worry about.

I throw my head back against the headrest, well aware of the fact that doing so hurt. It was like my brain was rattling around in my skull and I was only agitating it. “It’s just not that simple, Mike.”

“Yes it is,” He insists, hitting the steering wheel. “Who cares what other people think? If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. But if you want this diploma, go for it. You know Tré and I—when he’s conscious that is—will support you no matter what.”

I’m silent as I look out the window, his words bouncing around in my head. I’m vaguely aware of Mike’s gaze burning into the back of my head and I know that he’s waiting for my response. But I don’t have the energy to give him what he wants and so I remain quiet, the Volvo rattling familiarly beneath us.

Finally Mike gives up and the rest of the ride back to the apartment is spent in silence. By the time he pulls into the garage, I’m more than ready to get out of the car and lock myself into my room so I can write. Now that we had a proper recording studio at our disposal, the lyrics had been flowing so easily from my pen. I had so much I wanted to say and we had the means to record them now. I found myself being inspired so much more lately—I had already filled up half of my writing notebook with new material.

I shoulder Blue before I slam the door shut and walk the few steps to the door that leads into the apartment building. I grab the knob and try to turn it, but it doesn’t move. The landlord apparently locked the door already for the night, despite our insistence that we use this door regularly.

“Mike, I have to go around,” I announce, walking down the steps and watching as he busily prods Tré in his backseat. “The door is locked. I’ll go unlock it.”

Mike waves me off and I step into the dark alleyway, rooting through my pockets for my pack of cigarettes. I push one into my mouth and begin to dig for a lighter as I stroll around the building and step out onto the front lawn.

Tomorrow I’d get hell from the landlord if I tracked mud on the carpet, but at this point, I just don’t care. It’s not like a little bit of dirt was going to ruin the already unidentifiable carpet in our apartment building. There is a strange dark brown stain in the foyer that I swear is blood, but the landlord insists that it's just spilled root beer.

I take the porch stairs up two at a time, exhaling the smoke in my mouth heavily before I start to find my keys so I can unlock the door. I’m busy searching around in my pockets when my body tenses and the hair on the back of my neck starts to stand up.

My first thought is that I’m about to get mugged and my second is to protect Blue. I whirl around, my keys jingling in my grasp as my eyes sweep over the porch for someone. But when my search comes up empty, I can’t help but deflate a bit in relief. I was extremely paranoid, it was probably just that acting up.

I turn back to the door and find the key to the open the door. Just as I insert it into the lock, my body tenses again just as a hand falls heavily on my shoulder. My reaction is immediate. I turn quickly, my hands already curled into fists as my heart hammers wildly in my chest.

But my punch freezes in midair when I recognize the person standing before me. She has a cigarette dangling from her own plump lips and her long blonde hair is pulled up off her neck in a loose ponytail, the loose hairs curling around her oval face delicately.

“Hi Rock Star,” She purrs, arching one thin eyebrow up.

My body reacts to that deep throaty voice and I shift, well aware of the fact that the sexual tension between us is thick and heavy. “Hi Abigail,” I reply, using the door of the apartment building to support myself.

“It’s been a long time,” She remarks in that smooth voice, watching me closely.

I think back immediately to the last time I saw her. She was walking away from me in front of Gilman’s, her full hips swinging tantalizingly and her ever present cigarette weaving a halo of smoke over her head.

That was four or five weeks ago, just about a month. Why had she waited so long before she came to find me? She knew where I lived, she knew where I hung out.

“Really?” I ask, trying to keep my calm around her. I’d never live it down if I showed how on edge she truly made me. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Bullshit,” She states calmly, tapping the end of her filter and watching as the ashes blow away in the breeze. “You know good and well how long it’s been, so stop acting like you’re too blasé for that. I want to know why you didn’t come to San Francisco with me.”

“I had things to do,” I answer honestly just as Mike appears on the porch, his bass slung over his shoulder. I can hear Tré lumbering in behind him, still clearly half-asleep.

He pauses once he realizes who’s on our front porch and he shifts on his feet, clearly torn between going through the front door or waiting out our conversation in the garage. “Hi,” He settles for a happy medium, well aware of how awkward he’d just made our exchange.

Abigail nods curtly in his direction, her eyes flashing brilliantly at the interruption. “Hello.”

“I just need to get through,” Mike motions towards the door, his eyes apologetic towards me. “He really needs his sleep,” He jerks his thumb towards Tré who is practically sleeping standing straight up.

“By all means,” Abigail’s voice is crisp and cool as she watches him carefully. “Don’t let me stand in your way. Go on up to bed.”

Mike nods, murmuring something under his breath as he opens the front door and guides Tré through the door. “You alright?” He mutters under the pretense of taking Blue from me.

I nod discretely, my lips still clamped down tightly on my cigarette. “Fine, thanks.”

He shoots me one last knowing look before he shuts the door behind him. Silence comes down upon us as we both listen to the stairs creaking underneath their bodies as they make their way to the third floor.

Finally Abigail perches herself on the railing of the porch and takes one more drag off her cigarette before she flicks the filter over into the yard. “So Rock Star, what was more important than hanging out with me?”

I shrug, going over the curve of her breast in the dim porch light. She's wearing a tight, low-cut shirt and her breasts look like creamy white globes peeking over the top of her shirt teasingly. I swallow harshly, trying to tear my gaze away from her chest and failing miserably. “I-I had a party to be at with my friends—we wanted to blow off some steam together.”

“Why Rock Star,” Abigail slithers off the railing, giving me a good view down her shirt as she stalks towards me, her head tipped to one side. “They could have come with us.” She stops right in front of me and I can feel her breath dancing across my lips teasingly. “Do I intimidate you, Rock Star?”

I somehow manage to shake my head, despite the way my heart is racing erratically under my shirt. “You don’t intimidate me at all.”

“Liar,” She breathes, trailing her nails down my chest. My body reacts immediately, intense shivers racing over me and I know that if she doesn’t back off, I’m more than capable of taking her right here on the front porch of my apartment building. “I make you so tense and nervous. You’re like a little boy all over again in front of me. I like it,” She announces, leaning up and pressing her ruby red lips to my neck.

My eyes close and my head falls back against the door as she moves up my body, brushing my earlobe sensually with her lips. And then my breathing completely hitches as her teeth nibble on my skin lightly. A tense moan slips out as she runs her nails under my shirt and across my stomach teasingly.

I can’t stop myself as I reach out and try to grab onto her waist so I can pull her close to me, so I can feel her body pressed flush against mine. So she can feel how much I want her.

But she dances out of my grasp, her eyes glittering wickedly. “Ah, ah, Rock Star. I don’t give in that easily.”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, my chest heaving as I struggle to regain some semblance of my composure.

She watches me thoughtfully for a moment before she steps forward and plucks my cigarette from my lips. I watch helplessly as she takes one last heady drag and flicks the butt into the yard. She exhales, tossing her head boldly in a way that lets me know that she knows she’s got me right where she wants me.

“Take me to your bedroom,” She instructs in that smooth voice, her eyes difficult to read in the night time air.

And all I can do is nod as I reach behind me and open the front door of the building. And those eyes begin to sparkle once she realizes that she’s won tonight completely, that I’m all hers and she can do whatever she wants with me.