This Is Primetime

I would have given anything to know what was going through her head. Anything.

Becky was moving in with Matt. She was coming to Vancouver. She was going to live five mintues away from me. Hell, she'd be living closer to me than my own girlfriend. But what did that mean? Who was she coming for, really? Maybe she really, truly did want to be friends with me now. But I couldn't really believe that. I wanted to, but I just couldn't. The way that she had looked so crestfallen when I'd told her about Stacey; that didn't seem like someone who was just looking for a friend.

Sure, she'd brushed it off and continued like it hadn't upset her, but I knew that it had. And then Matt had to go and put me on the spot and ask me if I wanted her around. How could I possibly have replied with something other than yes? I shuddered at the thought of the alternative.

"Actually, Matt, I would rather see Becky move to Antarctica than to Vancouver. Why, you ask? Because then I wouldn't have to deal with the pain that I've been in for the past twenty-four hours. And don't get me started on the temptation and the jealousy. I don't mean from her, either. I mean myself. Since we've met up with Becky, I've been almost the worst possible version of myself. Not to her face, of course, but inside of my head. So, to answer your earlier question, I would hate to have her living with you. Now can we go home?"

Yeah, that would have been just fucking swell.

And now I was stuck in the backseat of the van with Markie. Don't get me wrong, she's really fun, but I just wasn't in the mood to hear anyone else make jokes about Becky and Matt hooking up. In fact, that was about the last thing in the world that I wanted to hear. I'd stressed enough over that very possibility when I'd first met Becky; I didn't want to hear about it now that I'd fucked up yet again. Isn't that just the story of my life?

"Why can't I come?" Markie whined from beside me.

"Because there's really no need for you to be there," Becky told her sternly. I smiled a bit. Becky had never been any good at laying down the law. I couldn't remember ever seeing her genuinely angry. Just hurt. I winced at the recollection of her facial expression in my bedroom that one night.

"But your mom loves me!" Markie argued further.

"She loved Matt, too. Believe me, you'll be invisible to her once she sees him."

I had to admit, she was right. Even when I had been alone with Becky, her mother had often found a way to bring Matt back into the conversation. She completely adored him. I could never really understand why, but I guess it wasn't my business. I was certain that I would relive that whole situation again tonight. Becky was forcing Matt and I to tag along for support when she broke the news to her parents. Everyone else was staying back at her apartment. I didn't know where I'd rather be. Either I could sit at Becky's apartment and endure more talk of Becky and Matt being together, or I could be alongside the two of them, witnessing it first hand. I had always believed that there was nothing going on between them. But now that I was just a spectator on the sidelines, I could see that there might be something brewing. I was out of the picture altogether, and they were dead center in the frame. And it was my fault.

Markie's bottom lip stuck out as she pouted beside me. I turned away and stared out the window, watching the various apartment buildings and businesses fly by. I glared with hostile eyes at a couple kissing outside of a gas station. Who could possibly be so in love that they had to play tonsil hockey at a gas station? There's absolutely nothing romantic about petroleum fumes and oil spills. Not to mention the geeky-looking gas jockey eyeing them up as he filled the tank on an SUV.

Ian, Mike, and Markie all piled out of the van when we stopped at Becky's apartment building. I watched as she tossed Mike her keys before hopping into the driver's seat.

"Be gentle with her!" Ian called, giving the van a loving look.

I snorted. "You can run this thing off a cliff and it won't get a single scratch. I swear it's built from the same stuff as tanks."

Becky turned around in her seat and stared at me. "Are you going to sit way the hell back there by yourself, or are you going to move closer and keep me entertained?"

I flashed her a smile, hoping that it looked effortless. "I don't know how much I can entertain you on the way to your parents house, but I'll do my best." I crawled over the seat in front of me and sat upright.

Matt gave me a strange look from his spot in the front seat. I knew him well enough to know that he was assuming everything that I hadn't told him. He knew how long it had taken me to move on after Becky. Once I'd finally been released from rehab, I had poured everything I had into my music. I had thought that if I focused all of my time, energy, and thoughts on it, then I wouldn't have to face the reality that she was gone. But, as it always does, the truth eventually caught up with me. And when I'd met Stacey, I'd pushed her away at first. I'd been dating her for about six months, and I'd finally started to believe that I had found love again. So why the hell did Becky have to show up just as I was starting to feel whole again? It wasn't her fault, and I felt bad for even letting the thought worm its way into my head, but I couldn't help the frustration that I felt whenever I had to talk to her and pretend that nothing was wrong. It was a good thing that I was such a great actor.

Becky drove at what I'm sure was an illegal speed as she weaved in and out of traffic. I was starting to understand why her parents had never let her use the car in high school. But that was about all I was fully understanding just then. I found myself staring at the back of her head as she drove. Her chestnut hair fell gracefully around her face, framing it beautifully, I was sure. It always seemed to fall just right, even though I couldn't see her face just then. I could still remember the smell of the shampoo she'd used. I let my gaze shift to her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows were knitted together over her hazel eyes as she concentrated on the road in front of her. Before she could catch me staring, I turned my head and looked out the window again. The van slowed to a gentle stop as she pulled up in front of a small brick house.

"Does anybody else feel like this is a bad idea to throw all of this on them at once?" She asked, leaning back in her seat and staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answer.

"How else would you tell them? I think they'd probably like to know as soon as possible, don't you think?" Matt reached for the door handle, then waited for Becky to make up her mind.

She had never been one to put much thought into her decisions. When we'd been together, I had loved that she was just as spontaneous as I was. But when her spontaneity had led to her leaving for good, I had learned the downside. Since then, I'd had a very mixed opinion on the issue. Now maybe she was feeling that way about it, too.

Abruptly, she opened her door and jumped down to the pavement. Matt and I followed suit, though I could feel my feet dragging. I would be just as much support for her if I stayed in the van. That way, her mother wouldn't be able to find some way to blame me for this. Even though it was all Matt's idea.

Becky led us up the concrete walkway and to the front door, where she didn't even pause to knock. She twisted the doorknob and pushed her way in.

"Mom! Dad! It's me!" She yelled as she kicked off her shoes and continued further inside. I followed a safe distance behind, knowing that things would go over better if her parents saw her before they saw Matt and I.

"Becky? What are you doing here?" Her mother's voice reached us from somewhere out of our line of vision.

"I... need to talk to you guys about something. And I think you'll want to see who I've brought."

"Is it Markie?" Her father, who had always liked me as far as I could tell, called excitedly. "You haven't brought her around in a long time!"

"No, it's not Markie," Becky looked back at us and inclined her head toward the next room, urging us to hurry up. "It's someone you'll be even happier to see."

I suppressed the disbelieving laugh that was threatening to loose itself from my throat.

Mrs. Jordan appeared in the doorway that Becky had been headed for, and her jaw dropped so low that I could clearly see the back of her throat. The observation unnerved me for some reason.

"Matt? How are you? And who else have... Josh? Is that you?" She leaned toward me, trying to see me better.

I brushed a blue piece of hair away from my face. "Yeah, it's me."

"You look so... wow. What brings you boys here? Becky hasn't talked about you in ages!" She gushed, her eyes flickering rapidly between Matt and I. I couldn't help but noticed that she'd aged greatly. It made me wonder how badly Becky had taken the move all those years ago. Maybe she hadn't been doing very well for awhile, and it had stressed her parents out. Why did that possibility make me feel a bit better?

"We're in a band," Matt told her, supplying all the information she wanted so that I wouldn't have to. "And we had a show here last night. We decided to check out the mall, and we ran into Becky."

"Come in, come in," Mrs. Jordan ushered us into the living room, where the television was turned on. Her husband looked up from the screen and turned to see who had entered the room. He didn't look surprised, so I assumed that he'd heard the commotion from a moment before.

He got to his feet and offered Matt his hand. "How have you been, Matt? Are your parents still in Vancouver? How's your dad doing?"

Matt shook his hand, smiling. "Mom and Dad are great. They're still there, and so is Amanda. She just finished university, actually."

Mr. Jordan faced me, and reached out toward me. "And Josh. I can hardly believe you're that same scrawny kid!"

I laughed, though it was a bit awkward. "Yeah, things have changed a bit since high school."

"Can I get you anything? Are you kids hungry? Need something to drink?" Mrs. Jordan fretted, walking toward the kitchen but pausing to view our reactions.

"I'm fine," I told her. "But could I possibly use your bathroom?"

"Just go down the hallway," Becky pointed out the direction. "It's the first door on the right."

I nodded and started off where she'd pointed. When I'd finished in the bathroom, I noticed that there was a door straight across from it that was wide open. Without stopping to think about it, I peered inside. It was clear to me that this had been Becky's room. It was almost all cleaned out, aside from the furniture and a few decorative items. I flicked on the light, and immediately noticed a black splotch in the beige carpet. I bent down for a closer inspection and found that it was nail polish. I smiled, looking down at my own chipped manicure. I still hadn't found a way to make it last more than a day or two. Maybe nail polish just didn't mix with plucking guitar strings. I took another step into the room and found a framed drawing on the wall. It was a pencil sketch, nothing too fancy, but there was still something that drew me in. It looked familiar. I stared for a long time before it finally dawned on me where I'd seen the breathtaking landscape before. It was the view from my window in the rehab center.

"Hey."

I spun around and found Becky giving me an embarassed smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't have come in here," I apologized immediately.

"It's okay. You were just taking a long time, so I thought maybe you got lost," she took a few steps forward and glanced up at the drawing. "I didn't really do it justice. I never claimed to be an artist, though, did I?" Her smile became more solid as she folded her arms and stared at the frame.

"Why did you draw it?" I asked, feeling my curiosity peak.

"This might sound stupid, especially after all this time," she warned me. I waited patiently for her to continue. "When I left Vancouver, I went through a lot of rough shit. And this image kept haunting me. Everytime I closed my eyes, I could see it. And I just kept thinking that it was all you were ever seeing. It wasn't just a memory for you; it was real. It was because of me that you were stuck in that room all the time. And if you failed, that would be my fault, too. I abandoned you when you needed me the most," her voice caught, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. "So finally I tried to draw it out. This one was my twenty-second attempt, and I finally felt like it looked right. I put it up on the wall so that I could feel what you felt. I hardly left my room anyways, so I might as well make it like a prison, right? In a weird way, everytime I stared at this drawing, I felt like I was closer to you. Like I could connect with you somehow. Like I could still find a way to make it up to you. It brought me down, but gave me hope at the same time. I told you it was stupid," her cheeks gained a red hue as she looked away.

For the hundredth time that day, I felt a wave of compassion for her. "It's not stupid. That means a lot, actually. I think that's really cool."

"Thanks."

"I think we need to find some time to talk. I think that we both need to hear exactly what happened after you left," I said thoughtfully.

Becky nodded, grinning happily. "Let's do that. Once I live with Matt, we'll have tons of time to chat. For now, care to go tell my parents that I'm leaving the province?"

I frowned, tearing my eyes from the drawing. "I guess so. Do you want them to hate me or something?"

She laughed. That had been one of my favourite things about her. Mentally, I cursed myself for even noticing how beautiful the sound was. I had Stacey now, I couldn't be thinking things like this about Becky.

"No, I don't want them to hate you," Becky interrupted my internal anguish. "I just want them to understand that I'll be happier when I'm with you guys again."

I let her take me by the elbow and lead me from the room. She turned out the light as she passed it, then continued down the hallway. Her grip on my arm slipped away as we rejoined everyone else.

"Here goes nothing," she murmured, so low that only I could hear her. She squared her shoulders and took in a deep breath.

I looked over at Matt, who was sitting on the couch. He appeared to be completely comfortable here, even though neither of us had ever set foot in this house before. I felt useless where I stood, but I didn't want to go and sit with Matt. If Becky had felt that it was this important for us to be here, she would want us by her side, right? Otherwise she would have let me stay back at her apartment with everyone else. So I remained where I was, standing a couple of feet behind her.

"So, as you've already heard, I ran into Matt and Josh yesterday. And Matt and I got talking about how everything's going back in Vancouver," she began, and I was releived to hear that she was leaving me out of the discussion. "And he's got an extra bedroom in his apartment. And I've decided to take it."

Was I imagining the way that everyone turned to glare at me all at once?