We Can Make This Last

Freshman Year, 2005.

“Yeah! You’re getting it, Taylor! Sort of! No, you are, I was kidding.” My boyfriend said. I laughed and he stood up with his bass. “Tell me the strings.” I bit my lip and pouted. “Do you remember?” He asked, smiling. I gave him a playful look.

“Of course I remember.” I bit my lip and grew frustrated as I tried to remember. “Maybe not…”

“EADG,” He said. I nodded, remembering now. “Do that exercise again.” I did so, and he smiled. “This is good.” I jumped up and down and my best friend who was sitting down on the couch clapped. “Good,” Both were in bands—separate ones—and both had gotten noticed recently. It was all so exciting. They were stoked.

I removed my bass from around me and my boyfriend did the same. His cell phone vibrated and he jumped. “Oh, hello.” He said, and yawned, nodding, then his eyes widened. “What? No, ok, don’t fuck with me, dude, come on.” His hand clapped to his mouth and he jumped once and started fast pacing around. “OH MY GOD! Oh, DUDE!...”

I looked at my best friend and he looked at me. We both shrugged and looked back at my boyfriend. When he had finished freaking the fuck out, he hung up and looked at us.

“Max?” my best friend asked.

Max freaked out again and ran up to me, picking me up and making bursts of giggles come out of me. “You know that contest our band competed in?”

“The one that was judged by My Chemical Romance?”

“Andy’s got it. That exact one. WE WON!”

“Oh my God!” I yelled, hugging Max and kissing him. “Congrats!”

“Congrats, dude.” Andy said, clapping him on the back.

“We leave tomorrow, and I’m so excited! Lemme just call my band.” I jumped down from him and looked down. The excitement disappeared, honestly. He’s leaving…? I whimpered at the thought and sat on the floor. I know I’m fifteen, a freshman, but I was infatuated with Max. He’s eighteen. Yeah, freshman dating a senior, not good, I know, but I’ve known Max since I was nine, so it’s fine… and he’s good to me.

I don’t want him to leave so soon…

When Max was done talking, he looked at me and his face fell. He walked over to me and hugged me tightly before kissing my forehead. “I promise I’ll come back, though. Very soon.”

“In time for my birthday?” He softly laughed, nodding.

“Of course. Your birthday’s in a week. You’ll be sixteen.” I nodded and hugged him, feeling more reassured.

Well, he didn’t come back. He missed my birthday. Andy had come, though. Best friends often do come. I was loud and cute and obnoxious, according to him, and he said “Doesn’t someone know how to party.” And then, he gave me a demo CD as a birthday present—of his stuff. Garage stuff, I know. Not a real demo, but yet, it’s a demo. It was such a rad present.

Then he sat me down and said, “We’re gonna get a lot of gigs soon. I don’t know if I’ll see you as much. I’ll be around, but… I’m… dropping out eventually.”

I didn’t see Max again. Texting slowly stopped as much as we tried. He was so busy. I saw Andy on rare occasions, but he was with his band, and it was for brief moments. We tried to schedule hangouts but it was always turned down on the day. “Practice” “Gig” “Writing” “Important stuff for the band”. Max would be nineteen in December. Andy would be sixteen in December. I AM sixteen.

I never even knew their band names.

Eventually, I never heard or saw from them again. Communication officially stopped on October fifth. Everything changed. I had Diane, but she was from the popular group, so I didn’t see her much. That was it. I was an outcast after that. Mom and Dad hit me and harmed me in ways I can’t imagine sometimes. I became quiet instead of the loud I used to be, shy and endurable instead of obnoxious and outgoing, and I gave myself a new style depending on the music I picked up.

Music got me out of the darkness sometimes, but it could only help me for so long…

And I’ve never felt so alone…
Ever.

Four. Years. Later.
Taylor is twenty of age.
Max Green is twenty-two years of age.
Andy Six is nineteen.

They haven’t seen each other since.