Here With You

“Nathan mentioned you last night,” Zach noted, shuffling through a row of CD’s. It had been three days since the beach concert. Zach had invited me on his music run after he saw me shooting hoops with Vic in their driveway. I obliged, I had a list of CD’s I had wanted to pick up.

I looked up from the row of CDs in front of me to meet his eyes. He was standing across from me, no expression on his face. “Oh,” I offered. I tried my best to remain composed after being told that a cute boy had brought up my name. It was always hard to prevent myself from blushing. I was a big blusher; the smallest thing would turn my face red.

“Yep.”

“Is that all?” I asked, wondering why he mentioned it. I returned to the CDs at my fingertips, filing through the A section. I was searching for the latest All Time Low album.

“Well, no,” he paused, “he thinks you should come to band practice every once in a while to give your input.” He seemed to force the last part out which wasn’t a shock to me. Zach liked to work through the rough stages of things, not just songs. He was set on fixing every minor mistake until it was perfect. Then and only then would he show you the finished product.

“And?” I glanced up at him; he was still shuffling through CDs, though he had moved farther away from me. I snagged the last copy of All Time Low’s album and held onto it while I moved down to the B’s.

I heard a sigh come from him and I saw him run a hand through his hair in my peripheral vision. “I don’t know.” I moved down to the E’s after finding Bon Iver’s ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ and was now in search of Ed Sheeran’s ‘+’ I felt his stare on me so I looked up, meeting his wary eyes. He quickly looked away.

We both concentrated on finding our music instead of withholding a conversation. I finally finished, picking up LIGHTS, Mumford & Sons, and lastly One Direction; they’re my guilty pleasure. We both paid and walked out to his car. I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. I set my bag down on the floor before sneaking out the One Direction CD; I planned on putting it in. I glanced at Zach who was now just sitting in the seat, seatbelt on, and his hands on the wheel.

“You can come,” he said into the silence. “To band practice I mean.” He looked over at me, I couldn’t tell if he was saying it to be nice or because he actually wanted me there. He must have saw the skeptical look on my face because he said something about hardly seeing me when school starts up and that it would be a nice time to hang out. He started up the car just as he finished his sentence and we headed towards home. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Nathan really wanted an outsider’s opinion on their work. Even though I wasn’t much of an outsider as I was Zach’s close friend. I would think they would want someone they knew would be honest, and I was always honest with Zach, but Nathan didn’t know that.

Part of me was hoping that he wanted me there so he could see me. But that was crazy, right? Making assumptions about someone you just met basically liking you seemed farfetched. And it was, but it could be true, if you believed in love at first sight. See, there’s a difference between liking someone and thinking someone is attractive. I wasn’t a believer in love at first sight. So maybe Nathan was attracted to me, but he didn’t know anything about me besides the fact that I don’t like burnt marshmallows, I have no clue about guitars, and I know everything about sharks, and that is not enough to decide if you like someone. I settled on the fact that it was plausible that he liked the way I looked and slipped the One Direction CD into the stereo.

The all too familiar and catchy tune of “What Makes You Beautiful” came blasting through the speakers. A smile formed on my face as Zach rolled his eyes, “You actually bought this?” I nodded eagerly with a big smile on my face. He groaned as I began to dance in my seat, joining in with the opening verse.

“You’re insecure, don’t know what for. You’re turning heads when you walk through the doo-o-or.” I sang along. I pointed at him signaling him to join in with the next line. I sighed, “you were supposed to sing!”

“Nu-uh,” he started, “not that song.”

“Please? You know you’re voice is my favorite.” I wasn’t lying either. We used to spend summer nights sitting on his back deck playing cards and occasionally singing along to some of our favorite songs. Zach played the acoustic guitar and we both sang along. I often skipped out on singing, just wanting to hear his voice.

“Val,” he sighed. “You know I don’t like them.”

“Fine.” I mumbled, sitting back in my seat, looking out my window. “We can take the CD out after this song.”

“BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE!” My head snapped to Zach the moment he started singing along. He looked over at me and smiled. I began singing along with him, both of us dancing with the windows rolled down and clapping at the appropriate parts. “IF ONLY YOU SAW WHAT I CAN SEE, YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHY I WANT YOU SO DESPERATELY. RIGHT NOW I’M LOOKIN’ AT YOU AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DON’T KNO-OH-OH, YOU DON’T KNOW YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL.” Zach pointed at me and I was quick to blow him a kiss, both of us laughing our way through the rest of the song.

“I knew you secretly liked that song,” I teased as I returned the disk back to its case.

“It’s just so damn catchy!” he pressed a few buttons on the stereo and Katy Perry was softly playing through the speakers.

We made small talk the rest of the way home. When we arrived, I grabbed my sack of CDs and headed over to my house as Zach shouted to me that band practice was tomorrow. I waved over my shoulder, signaling that I heard him. Tomorrow was also the last day of summer vacation.

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“Did we decide on B, C, B, or B, C, D?” Zach asked, looking at Nathan who was sitting across from him. I was sitting on an old, brown couch in Zach’s garage. My hands were tucked into my lap and I sat back, taking in the atmosphere of my surroundings. Since Zach had started the band, his parents agreed to let him use their second garage, which was detached from the house, as practice space. He was in charge of keeping it clean and whatnot. As long as his grades were up, he could play.

I studied the blue rug that Michael’s black drum set was on top of; I was unable to make out if the white figure was a bear or a wolf. There were four other rugs in the garage; a rather large grey one in front of the couch that I was sitting on, and the three others belonged to Cameron, Nathan, and Zach. You could tell they tried to deck the place out as much as they could, there was a lava lamp sitting on a yellow milk crate next to the couch. The lava lamp wasn’t even plugged in. They had put up some foam padding on each of the walls to absorb the sound instead of it bouncing off the walls, making them sound worse than they actually were. Zach explained that they occasionally left the garage door open, but some days it was better closed, today it was closed.
I grabbed my Diet Coke off of another milk crate that was sitting in front of me, serving as a very small coffee table. So far the boys haven’t made much progress. Zach and Nathan had been going over chords while Cameron and Michael had yet to arrive, I guess they were usually late. They showed up twenty minutes late, sending Zach into a hissy fit.

“If I wanted practice to start at six twenty, I would have said be here at six twenty. But I said six o’clock, so get here at six! It’s really not that hard guys.”

“Calm down, dude,” Cameron said, putting his hands up in defense before picking up his bass off of the stand.

“I’ll “calm down”,” Zach said sarcastically, adding air quotations, “as soon as you show up on time, you too Michael.”

“Okay, mom,” Michael said as he sat behind his drum set.

“Alright, let’s do….The Countdown,” Zach suggested. They all took their places. I smiled, this was my favorite of the few songs they had. “This beat’s got me down on my knees,” Zach started after the intro was over. I sang along quietly as they reached the chorus, “count me out, count me in, I’m ready to begin.” Zach was actually moving around in the small space they had, he took the microphone off of the stand and wandered over to me, kneeling down in front of me and singing, “If I asked you to stay would you come back and dance with me?” I smiled bigger as Zach sang my favorite line of the song before wandering back over to his rug where he remained until the song finished.

The guitar faded out and I stood up clapping. Nathan took off his guitar and set it down on his stand before bowing. “Thank you, thank you!”

I sat back down and they all began to do their own thing, Zach quickly picked up his notebook, a burst of inspiration hitting him suddenly. That happened a lot with him; he could be folding clothes and all of the sudden he would think of an idea for a song, whether it just be an idea that has yet to unfold, or a whole lyric, and occasionally, but rarely, an entire verse or chorus. Michael messed around on the drums with a few beats and Cameron was plucking away on the strings of his emerald green bass. Nathan, however, grabbed a Pepsi out of the mini fridge before sitting down at the other end of the couch, leaving an open cushion between us.

I felt myself getting nervous with him sitting right next to me, I hated that I acted this way around a cute boy. I pulled at the hem of my blue jean shorts and looked up to meet his eyes. He smiled, “It’s nice to see you at practice.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, I’m surprised Zach let me come.”

“So, you’ve never been to band practice before?” I shook my head. “Like, never?!”

“Nope!”

“I would have thought he asked for your opinion on everything.”

“Well,” I started, “he does, but he doesn’t want to show me something that’s bad, I guess.” I reached forward and grabbed my Sprite off of the makeshift coffee table and took a sip, keeping it in my hand. I folded my legs under me so I was sitting Indian style. I played with the tab on the top of the can, flicking it over and over while looking around the room. I didn’t know what else to say and I was desperately searching for something to talk about. Anything was better than sitting here in silence. “Do you start school tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m just excited that it’s my last year. You’re a senior too, right?”

“Yeah, don’t remind me! I haven’t been looking at colleges much; basically everyone else knows where they want to go. My dad has been on me about it, he’ll bring up random colleges over dinner and it’s the last thing I want to talk about.” I glanced over at Zach who was sitting on a wooden stool. His leg was bouncing up and down as he leaned over a notebook in his lap, his pen tapping wildly on the metal spiral. “What about you, any college plans?” I asked, returning my attention back to Nathan.

“Nah, I don’t really plan on going. I want to pursue music.”

“What do your parents think?”

He shrugged as he took a drink of his pop, “they don’t really care, I guess. I mean, I know they want me to get a college education but they also want me to follow my dreams.”

I glanced over at Zach again, he wanted to pursue music instead of college but his dad was making him go to college. I studied him as he scratched out something on the page that he wasn’t satisfied with. The notebook page was a disorganized mess; I didn’t know how he could make sense of it. He brought the pen to his lips momentarily, his face showed frustration, most likely because he couldn’t word something right. I felt a pang of sadness go through me, I felt bad that he couldn’t do just music. He’d have to put school first and fill music in whenever he could find the time, part of me worried that there wouldn’t be time and he’d give it up.

“Well that’s good they support you,” I smiled. I stood up and walked over to the trashcan by the mini fridge that was labeled “CANS” in Zach’s handwriting, and tossed my can in with a clank. Just as I sat back down my phone rang, I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was my mom. I knew what this call was about. “Uh, I’ll be right back.” I said before darting out the door on the side of the garage. “Hey mom.”

“Hi Valerie, don’t forget you have an appointment with Christine tonight at six.”

I ran a hand through my hair, “Yeah, I remember. Thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later tonight! I love you.”

“Love you too,” I said before hanging up. I groaned and leaned back on the side of the garage, sliding down it as I sat down. I spread my legs out in front of me and rested my head back on the wall, heaving a sigh.

Christine was my therapist that I saw for my anxiety disorder. I didn’t like her; she always said something that made me feel down about myself and that wasn’t what I needed. However, my mom, my dad, and my doctor advised that I continue seeing her. I don’t think they understood how sick I am of being put down, even if it wasn’t directly stated. I glanced at the time on my phone; 4:45 was displayed in big white letters. I groaned and stood up, there was no way my mom was going to let me skip this one. I headed back inside after returning my phone to my pocket.

“There you are!” Zach yelled from the opposite side of the garage.

I gave him a weird look, “I told Nathan I was heading outside…my mom called.”

“What’d she want?” he asked as he walked over towards me.

I shook my head, “I’ll tell you later.”

He must have been able to see that I was stressed and annoyed because he probed, “what’s up?” he asked quietly, pulling me off to the side of the room away from everyone.

I shook my head, “it’s nothing.”

“Val,” he said sternly. I looked up into his eyes, I had been avoiding them. His eyes were searching my face for a hint of some sort.

I sighed, “I just, I have an appointment with my therapist tonight and I really don’t feel like going.”

“You know she’s trying to help you.”

I rolled my eyes, “so everyone keeps saying.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “you know I don’t like her.”

“I know, but I know you need her…or, or someone.”

“Every time is the same thing; it’s all stuff that she’s told me a million times. It’s a waste of money and time. I know how to work through an attack, Zach; I just need practice with it.”

“Well, you can hang out here if you want,” he suggested.

“Thanks, but I’ll probably go over to Sarah’s and fork over the fifty dollars for canceling without a twenty-four hour notice.” I sighed, “I’m just going to head over now, thanks for letting me come to band practice. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, “have fun at your “appointment,”” he added air quotes around appointment.

“Bye guys!” I called out before opening the door. After a chorus of “see ya’s” I headed out of the garage and back over to my house.