A Handful of Red Earth

It was an hour later, and Gabriel had just left. Adam had done a wonderful job of coaxing him out of his shell, and I got to know more about Gabe in that hour than I had in all the time I’d ever spent with him before put together.

And now Adam was perched on top of the side, watching as I loaded my jeans into the washing machine.

“Jeans, huh? The jeans you were wearing yesterday?” he asked, his voice mild. Bur I detected a hint of something a little sharper than mere passive interest beneath.

“Yeah, they are,” I answered with a sigh, and a feeling that I knew where this conversation would lead.

“Care to explain why they were at Ben’s house?”

I slammed the machine door shut.

“Not really, actually. I don’t think it’s particularly necessary, either.”

Adam nodded, then reached out an arm to squeeze my shoulder. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I didn’t reply.

He left around six, when I had perked up a bit. By that time, I had decide that really trying to do anything with my day was a colossal waste of time, so I stuck on Black Books and lay on my bed with my eyes half shut, listening to it.

I was just drifting off when Monday started playing from somewhere on my floor- my phone.

That was Ben’s ringtone. I contemplated ignoring it, but when it rung out and immediately began to ring again I realised that wasn’t an option.

I paused Black Books, half stumbled out of bed and got it, probably just in time.

“Why are you calling?” I asked. I’d long given up on the niceties; phone etiquette didn’t apply to him.

“Is it a crime for me to call, to see how you are?” he asked, his tone anything but friendly.

“No, but I’m sure it should be. It probably indicates some sort of substance abuse.”

“God, what’s bitten you?”

“Do you really want me to get into that?” I asked, and he didn’t reply. “Look, just tell me what you wanted so we can get this conversation over with.”

“I spoke to Gabriel today,” he paused for dramatic effect, “he said that you had a visitor over when he-“

“-oh God,-“ I interrupted him,

“-went round,” he finished, talking over me.

“Christ! What the fuck is your problem?”

“I was just wondering if you had a nice day with Adam,” he said casually.

“That’s why you called?” I demanded, and when he didn’t reply, I took his silence as a yes. “You’re pathetic. You’re so pathetic- you’re petty. Like a six year old girl!”

“Well Ath? Did you?”

“Yes, I did. Now leave me the fuck alone, please!”

“Ath, you make no sense. First you want me to talk to you more, and then when I try you just shout and swear at me.”

“Ben, you know that this isn’t what I meant when I asked you to talk to me.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just wanted you to stop being a dick, that’s all. I want to be like how we were.”

“What do you mean, Ath, ‘how we were’? How were we?”

“We were friends, Ben. And we were a damn sight closer than we are now.” He didn’t say anything, so I decided to keep talking, decided that I didn’t care what he knew anymore. “You know back then just being near you made me so happy. I could think about seeing you without wanting to die. If you were to hold me like you did then-“ I stopped, but only because I was choked off by teatrs.

“Ath, what are you trying to say?” he asked, frustrated.

“I’m trying to say that I miss you. And that I really can’t keep doing this. I can’t do us, not like how we are now.”

“I see. That’s all you had to say,” he said, and for a second I let myself hope. It was a second too long. “I won’t call you anymore. I won’t talk to you, or touch you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what I want,” I cried, but it was too late and he was gone.

I threw my phone against the wall, and then cried till I couldn’t cry any more.

*

I spent the next day in bed, too tired and too angry at life to get up.

My mother almost noticed that I was upset, but then she had to leave to meet some professor friend for brunch.

The day after that, Adam came over. I know for a fact that he got waylaid by my father and talked at about this absolutely fascinating book on early Greek architecture that he’d just uncovered.

I’d been planning on refusing to see him but when I heard that mortifying conversation I had to reconsider. I couldn’t abandon Adam to that fate.

I clumped down the steps, and into the hall.

“And did you know that the woman who wrote it, Angela, umm, Angela Kirk, I believe, mhm, yes-“

“Hey Adam,” I muttered . He turned round to face me, moving faster than I’d previously deemed possible.

“Artemisia!” And no one had ever pronounced my name with such sudden and such profound joie de vivre before either.

“Ahh, Ath sweety,” my dad said pointedly. “Did I tell you about Angela Kirk’s most recent book-“

“Yes dad,” I lied easily, a talent borne from years of practice.

“Oh, well, I shall recommend it to you again as a truly spectacular read-“

“-Thanks, dad. Aren’t you meant to be working today?”

“Yes, I am, but from home, Ath, ahh, from home.”

“Oh. Okay. Well Adam and I are going to go upstairs. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Oh, well… lovely to meet you, Adam,” he cleared his throat, “very nice.”

I turned back up the stairs, beckoning for Adam to follow me.

“Sorry about him, I said once we were safely in my room. “He means well. He just assumes that everyone in the world has an insatiable thirst for classical architecture.”

Adam chuckled, and I slid back in between the sheets of my bed. His laugh petered out, and he took in my appearance.

“Hey, Artemisia, are you okay? You look kind of… do you think maybe you might have alcohol poisoning?”

“Gee, thanks. I look like I have alcohol poisoning,” I muttered, shutting my eyes and pulling my blankets tighter around me, cocooning myself in.

“Well, no, not exactly. You just look… I don’t know,” he gave up.. There was a silence and then:

“I feel like shite. I take it I look like shite too,” I said. Adam had enough sense not to protest. “I sort of got dumped.”

“You sort of got dumped? But you weren’t going out-“

“I know. That’s why it’s only sort of. Ben called the day before yesterday and he said… he was being such a dick, so I told him I couldn’t carry on and he said that he wouldn’t call again, like that’s what I wanted.”

“Oh. Well, it’s for the best Ath, honestly,” he said after a prolonged silence.

“I know. But I wish like hell it wasn’t,” I sighed, dejectedly.

There was more silence, then Adam spoke again. “Am I allowed to share some potentially good news or is this really not the time?” he asked.

“Share away, I will do my best to be enthusiastic,” I replied without opening my eyes.

“Well, we may have a gig in a fortnight. The only problem is that currently we’re nameless.”

My eyes flew open. “Seriously? Adam that’s so cool! I’m so proud of you! Where is it? And when?”

“Well,” he said, colouring a little. “It’s just as a support band for another group. But it’ll be on the Thursday, in this pub in Brick Lane.”

“That’s truly awesome man. I’ll definitely be there,: I said, smiling happily.

“You mean you’ll definitely be there if we have a name,” he sighed.

“Why don’t you guys have a name?” I asked, suddenly realising that it was rather odd.

“Well we did have a name once… it was Sleaze Stop. It was a name one of us- Reuben- chose while drunk.”

“Sleaze Stop…” I repeated. In theory the name wasn’t bad but…. I could see why they’d want to get rid of it and never think of it again.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed with my unspoken sentiment. “So we’re having an emergency meeting today, and I was wondering if you’d come along?” he asked.

I was shocked into silence.

“Of course, you don’t have to, but you know a lot about names, and I thought it’d be cool maybe to have a name that meant something…” he trailed off. “But maybe you’re busy.”

“I’d got a beautiful day of moping all planned out, but I think I can make time for you guys,” I said, struggling to get out of my blanket wrap. “When is the meeting anyway?”

“Well it’s at twelve, so in an hour. And it’s in Neasden.”

I choked, on nothing.

“You’re never going to make that. Not even nearly. Not even if you left now.”

Adam grimaced. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t say that. But seeing as you’re right we can take as long as we like. After all, rushing won’t help us.”

“That logic is so screwed up,” I muttered, finally managing to get out of bed. “Well I’m going to have a shower. Umm, what sort of clothes will be okay to wear?”

“Anything you like,” Adam said, apparently shocked I’d bothered to ask.

I stalked over to my wardrobe and pulled out some jeans, a vest top and another shirt- my generic fallback outfit.

I sighed then dropped the clothes on the floor.

Maybe dressing it up a little more would be appreciated.

I pulled out another bundle of clothes from the section of my wardrobe I usually passed over, and dragged them into the bathroom.

*

You look very nice, Adam said, definitely appreciative.

I was wearing a cream top I had bought rashly and a pair of khaki culottes that I’d had to fasten with a gold studded belt.

“You’re looking pretty swish yourself,” I said, indicating his outfit; another, different blazer, a straw hat with a short feather in it, slightly skinny jeans and winklepickers. “You really pulled out your inner indie kid, huh?”

He pushed me playfully.

I sat on the floor in front of my mirror, pulling out an unopened bag. Make up.

Lashes first, because they were the bit I knew I could do. I put on a couple of layers of False Lash Effect mascara before pulling out a prized tube of gold mascara, a present from Delia. Then eyeliner came next. I allowed myself two failed attempts before giving up and moving to lipstick.

“Does that look okay?” I asked, turning to Adam.

He nodded. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning away so he didn’t have to see my embarrassment.

I grabbed a small brown leather bag and stuffed essentials into it- my purse, my phone, my keys, my lipstick and (after some deliberation) my camera. And then we were ready to go.

*

It was a long way to the lead singers house where we’d be meeting. We had to catch a 43 into Muswell Hill, then get on a 102 towards Golders Green. We got off on the North Circular and had to wait fifteen minutes for the last bus to come.

“You lived a trek away,” I said with a sigh. We’d been journeying for about forty minutes, and we’d have to stay on the next bus for about that time too.

“Actually, if we’re being technical, you’re the one who lives a trek away, as the rest of the band are all about a ten minute walk from each other,” Adam said, his voice serious, but with a smile on his face.

“That’s an idiots view,” I laughed. He pushed me and then laughed as well before stopping short.

“Oh, that’s our bus there- the 232.”

We got on, and sat at the back. I took my camera out and we started snapping ‘MySpace photos’ to while away the time, trying to make each photo stupider than the last.

We got off about half an hour later.

“Hey, I thought you said Neasden was a shithole,” I breathed.

“It is, Adam replied, leading me across the road. “Rube’s parents probably got the one decent place round here. Trust me.”

“I’d really rather not,” I replied as we went up the pretty impressive steps to the equally impressive door.

The door was answered by a boy whose hair was- quite frankly- everywhere.

“Ahh, hi Adam and someone who is most definitely not Cassandra…” he raised an eyebrow at Adam.

“I’m Ath. Nice to meet you-“

“Reuben. So, are you replacing Cassandra?” he asked, stepping aside to let us in.

“I don’t think so. Who’s Cassandra?”

“The Girl. They’re pretty on and off though.”

“Oh? Well I’m just a friend. I’m here to become the worlds best groupie,” I said, smiling.

“In which case it’s my duty to ask you for a blow job,” he replied, with a laugh.

“Oh shut up Reuben,” Adam said, pushing him lightly. “Where is everyone?”

“We’re all downstairs. We ordered pizza but they’re only crusts left. And they’re cold. Speaking of which, why are you so late?”

Adam shrugged lightly. “It’s further than I thought. Highgate’s pretty far away.”

“Whatever. I bet you were giving your friend here groupie lessons,” Reuben nudged me and winked.

“Ha ha man. We were actually having a deep and meaningful conversation about classical architecture,” Adam said haughtily.

Reuben burst out laughing and opened a door into a room of lounging guys.

“You laugh now,” I muttered, but it’s actually true.”

But I just got an amused look and an introduction.

“Guys, this is Adam’s friend…”

“Ath,” I said, not about to make the same flustered mistake as I did with Adam. However, I didn’t need to.

“She lies,” Adam announced, pushing his way into the room. “Her real name is Artemisia. Ath is just short for her middle name.”

“Thanks, Adam, I almost forgot that bit,” I said flatly.

“Yep. I know how much you love it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So, what have you guys gotten so far?” Adam asked, sitting down.

“Err… not much, actually. I liked Hot Touch but-“

“That’s so gay,” I interrupted, without meaning to. My words were welcomed with a chorus of agreements.

“it’s better than the Samsons,” he said, but we all knew it wasn’t.

“Would it be helpful if you could hear some of our music?” Adam asked me and I nodded.

“Yeah, it would actually.”

“Mace,” he called over to another one of the group, “pass us your iPod.”

A black touch was chucked across the room to us with no ceremony at all, and I cringed when Adam almost missed it.

He unwrapped the headphones from around it and put them on me before selecting a song.

I lay back and let the sound wash around me, shutting my eyes to block out everything else.

They were good. They were really good. Their beats were energetic, the actual music was infectious and the vocals were hot. Scorching hot.

“So what did you think?” Adam asked once the song was over, removing the headphones.

“You guys are awesome, seriously. Reuben’s the lead singer, right?”

Adam’s face broke out into a grin at my praise, and nodded.

“You guys are really amazing. Reuben, you were on fire.”

“I always am,” he said with a playful wink, and earned himself a slightly less playful kick from a boy lounging on a beanbag.

“The name should convey that,” I murmured, more to myself, trying to think what fit the bill.

“Adam, Ath,” I heard Reuben say, “d’you guys want food?”

“Yeah!” Adam said enthusiastically; I wrinkled my nose and shook my head.

“You sure?” Reuben checked, and I nodded my head vigourously.

The very idea of food was making me nauseous: Ben’s rejection was still playing in the back of my mind.

“No food, thanks,” I said, letting my head fall back once again and trying to close off my mind to everyone else so I could think better.

Of course my phone rang then. I pulled it out of my bag and answered, not pausing to check the screen.

“Hello?” I sighed quietly, not wanting to attract attention to my call.

“Hey Ath,” the other voice said. I pulled my phone from my ear and checked the screen. Giselle.

“Hey hun,” I replied. “What’s up?”

“Not much. I’m at your door.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not there. Umm, I’m just with some friends…”

“Anyone I know?”

“No. My next door neighbour and his band. Umm, you didn’t go purposefully to my house just to see me, did you?”

“No, I was passing by. I went on a walk. Do you want to catch up later then?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool. How about-“ I nudged Adam.

“Yeah?”

“What’s the time?”

He checked his watch. “It’s four. Well, quarter to.”

“What time will you guys be finished?”

“Don’t know. Why?”

“Talking to a friend,” I said, indicating my phone where Giselle was waiting patiently. Adam nodded understandingly, then turned back to shouting down Reuben’s latest name idea.

“So what’s the verdict?” Giselle asked.

“They don’t really know. How about you come to mine later and then stay the night?”

“Yeah, okay then. You can introduce me to your neighbour then too. He sounds hot.”

I stole a look at Adam to make sure he hadn’t somehow heard before replying ‘believe me, Gis, he is.”