Music Inn

“Are you guys performing anything new on Saturday?” I asked at breakfast on Wednesday morning. By now, Colton, Fletcher, and Thomas were used to seeing me in the morning before we all left for work. They even bought a shitty camping chair and set it up at the table so I no longer had to either share with Sam or sit on his lap. Even the mug with an “A” on it that had once belonged to Fletcher’s sister Aubrey was now mine, mostly out of name convenience.

Now, they all gave me funny looks. “We’re not performing on Saturday,” Fletcher said through a mouthful of bacon.

“Why not?”

“Closed,” Colton mumbled. He never spoke much to begin with, but in the morning, you were lucky if he even said “hello.” I was told that he remained a zombie until his third cup of coffee and second cigarette.

I raised my eyebrows. “Anyone care to clarify?”

“Bender is closed on Saturday,” Sam supplied cheerfully from where he was cooking pancakes at the stove, wearing boxers, an apron that said MR. GOOD LOOKIN’ IS COOKIN’, and nothing else.

“It is? Why?”

Thomas came into the room wearing his work uniform, which consisted of a red polo that had the Main Street Grocery logo on it and khakis. The other guys made fun of him for it, but I always said he looked dignified. “Saturday’s the Fourth of July.” He sat down and stole Fletcher’s glass of orange juice, who let out an indignant grunt.

“It is?” I said, surprised. Sure enough, when I checked my phone, the calendar said July 1st. “Oh wow. It really is.”

“Yeah, everywhere will be closed. But not Main Street Grocery, oh no. We’ll be having a discount on all camping supplies, including fire pits, patio furniture, and marshmallows!” Thomas said sarcastically.

I laughed. “Hey, that means they’ll have the fireworks on the beach. Kiera, Jesse, Dan, Hazel and I go to that every year.” I brightened at the thought. Maybe now that Matt Eddie was back in town, he’d come too.

“Fireworks. That sounds like fun,” Fletcher remarked.

“Yeah, they are. We get there super early and have a bonfire and just hang out before they start. It’s so much fun. You guys should join us.”

“Will there be beer?” Fletcher asked.

“Knowing Jesse, Dan, and Hazel? Yes. Lots of it.”

“We’re in,” Thomas affirmed, pointing his fork at me.

“My mom always had cookouts,” Sam said abruptly. Everyone in the room froze. As far as I knew, the rest of the guys all had pretty decent family situations; Thomas’s parents were bitterly divorced but they both loved him; Fletcher’s dad had died when he was little but he had a mom and a sister whom he adored; Colton’s parents were together and although they were apparently hardly ever around, he still liked them anyway. Either way, none of their parents had pretty much disowned them like Sam’s had.

Sam had his back facing us, but when no one answered, he turned around. “Remember?”

“Yeah,” Colton said, surprising us all. Sam seemed content with this answer and went back to cooking.

I shot a questioning look at the rest of the guys, but they all shook their heads. Fletcher mouthed, tell you later. I nodded.

Afterwards, while everyone was running around and getting ready to go to work, Fletcher sidled up next to me as I cleaned up the kitchen, putting the plates to soak in the sink and wiping down the stovetop. “When he talks about his mom like that, you just have to agree,” he mumbled, pretending to help me wash some forks. “It’s like, weirdly therapeutic for him, you know? We just listen and nod and then it’s over.”

I glanced over at Sam, who was attempting to tie his tie while simultaneously brushing his teeth. He was in his waiter uniform, which consisted of a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and a black tie. He was technically supposed to wear nice shoes too, but since none of the guys owned dress shoes (they claimed to never have any need for them), he stuck to his Converse. His hair was still damp from his shower, still lying flat on his head. I felt a rush of affection for him.

“Gotcha,” I said to Fletcher. “Thanks for telling me.” He nodded and went to go put his shoes on.

Sam finished brushing his teeth before coming over to me. “Hey,” he said with a grin, putting his hands on either side of me so I was trapped between him and the kitchen sink.

“Hey. Your tie is — here.” I reached up and straightened it for him. “There you go.”

He grinned down at me. “We could have a lot of fun with this tie, you know.”

“Oh we could, could we?” I asked. I kept my voice innocent, but I was already letting my mind wander to all of the possibilities. “I suppose I could be persuaded to try a few things.”

“Think we got time before work?”

“Hell no,” Fletcher called as he ran by. “We’re about to miss the bus if we don’t get a fucking move on.”

Sam laughed. “Ah well. Something to look forward to for another time.” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes. “So I’m working late today,” he continued.

“How late?” I asked. “I get off at eight.”

“Hey, that rhymed. But yeah, a little later than that,” Sam said.

I knit my eyebrows. “Over twelve hours? How come?”

He shrugged. “I could use the money, I guess.” He sized me up. “Are you pissed?”

For a split second, I wondered if I was, and then I wondered why I would be. If Sam wanted to work a long shift, that was his business. “No, of course not,” I said, meaning it. “I just like seeing you, pal.”

He grinned. “I like seeing you too, bud.” He jokingly punched me in the shoulder. “I’ll see you on your lunch break though, don’t forget.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “You’d better get going, though.” Fletcher was giving us the evil eye. “Don’t overwork yourself, don’t drop any trays, and don’t promote your band to any customers.”

“No promises,” Sam said. “But I’ll try as long as you don’t overwork yourself, don’t throw any CDs at Jesse’s head, and don’t let any other bands promote themselves to you.”

I snorted. “Deal.” Sam and Fletcher left, followed by Thomas, and then Colton, who walked out with me. “Have a good day, Colt,” I called as I walked to my own apartment. He grunted, which was as good as I was going to get at this hour.

When I walked in, Kiera was just shuffling out of her room, yawning. “I’ll make the coffee,” I said cheerfully, like I did every morning. I filled the Keurig and tried to ignore the fact that my life was becoming routine, as well as the other fact that I was enjoying it.

♫ ♫ ♫

“Did you know that Saturday is the fourth of July?” I asked.

Without answering, Dan pointed to the calendar that was pinned on the wall behind the counter. I saw that this Saturday was circled multiple times with red and blue pen. “Oh. Well, are we all going to the fireworks?”

“Duh,” Kiera said, leaning on her elbows and fanning herself with a book of clarinet music. Our air conditioner was running, but it was still warm in the store. “Dan, it’s too hot. No one is gonna wanna go outside today.”

“Good thing we operate our business from inside the store,” Dan said without looking up from the shipment of guitar strings he was unpacking. Extreme heat had the tendency to make him cranky.

Kiera rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. We should all just go home early.”

Two people chose that moment to enter the store. “Hi, we were wondering if we could look at your drums?” one of them, a woman, asked. “My son is learning to play and we wanted to get him a kit for his birthday.”

“See? Go help them,” Dan instructed.

“Have Alexa do it.”

“I didn’t ask Alexa to do it, I asked you,” Dan snapped.

Kiera scowled, but she knew better than to argue with Dan. She got up and went over to the customers. “Let me show you what we have.”

I had been sitting on a stool behind the counter the entire time, idly watching the clock tick by. Dan looked up at me and I could tell I was about to get told off. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I said, although I instantly knew that was the wrong answer.

“Exactly,” Dan said, irritated. “You’re not doing anything. And I don’t pay you to just sit there. Find something to do. Those teenagers fucked up the CD display, go fix it.”

“That’ll take me like, two seconds.”

“Great. Then you’ll have more time to do something else.”

I got up stiffly and walked over to the CD section, telling myself that it was just the heat that was making him like this and that if I punched him I would surely lose my job. I knelt down in front of the CDs and inspected them. Jesus. Those teenage boys really had disorganized them.

I began pulling them out and putting them in piles on the floor. I picked up a CD from a band called College Hunks. After looking at it for a second, I remembered why it was so familiar: they were a band that Sam really liked. He’d been going on about how much he wanted their new CD a week or two ago.

“Hey Dan?” I called before I could stop myself. “This College Hunks CD . . . is it their newest one?”

“Yeah, we just got the shipment a couple days ago.”

“Can I buy it? With my discount?”

“I don’t care.”

“I didn’t know you liked College Hunks,” Jesse said, coming out of the back room, having just done inventory.

“Um, yeah,” I said, trying to save face. “I just recently got into them, so I thought I’d try listening to their newest album.”

He nodded, buying it. “Oh. Cool. I wonder if they’re going on tour soon, or if they’re coming anywhere close. We should go see them.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” In reality I really had no opinion on this band, but he didn’t need to know that. As I went to ring it up, I stopped. Was I really buying this CD for Sam? Was it crossing a line somehow?

I shook myself out of it. No, it wasn’t weird. I saw the CD, remembered he liked it/wanted it, and was buying it for him as a gift. A gift from a friend, to a friend. That was all. I was letting what everybody said get to me, and that wasn’t good.

Before I could overthink it any more, I bought the CD. There. Now what was done was done, and there was nothing more to it.

Later that night, I was sitting on our couch, watching Netflix on my laptop. It was late, just a little past midnight. Kiera had gone to bed a little while ago, since we both had work in the morning, but for some reason I decided to stay up.

Suddenly, there were a couple quiet taps on the door. I got up and opened it cautiously. Sam was standing there, leaning against the doorframe, still in his work clothes. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and he looked exhausted. “Hey,” I said, confused. “What’s up?” We’d seen each other during our lunch break, but after that I hadn’t heard anything from him.

“Just got off work,” he said. “I forgot my key and the guys are either comatose or not home, so. Thought I’d come here.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, come in. Are you hungry?”

He shook his head. “Just really fucking tired, to be honest.”

“And smelly,” I added, getting a whiff as he walked by me. “You should take a shower.”

He laughed a little. “Thanks. I would ask you to come shower with me, but I really do need to wash myself.”

“Wouldn’t wanna distract you or anything,” I teased. “Plus I showered a few hours ago. But thanks for thinking of me.” He poked my butt before heading to the bathroom, already unbuttoning his shirt.

While he showered, I cleaned my room and put on a matching bra and underwear because hey, you never know. Sam came into my room with a towel around his waist, carrying his dirty clothes. “Where should I put these?”

“Um, on my desk chair I guess.”

“Okay. Here’s your bag.” He moved it off of the chair and handed it to me before dumping his clothes onto it.

“Thanks.” I pretended to be going through it while he dropped his towel and put on a pair of his boxers. “You left one of your shirts here if you wanna wear it,” I offered. “I think it’s in my top drawer.” I hoped he wouldn’t find it weird that I’d actually put it in my drawer.

“Sweet. Thanks.”

As I fiddled with my bag, I suddenly remembered the College Hunks CD inside. “Guess what.”

“What?”

“I have something for you.”

Sam stared at me, confused. “What are you talking about?”

I pulled it out of my bag and held it up. He looked at it for a moment before his eyes widened and a grin broke out on his face. “No way! Really?”

“Yup. We got a shipment of them recently and I remembered how much you liked them, so I got it for you.”

“Holy shit, that’s awesome.” Sam took it from me and marveled at it. “How much was it?”

“You’re not paying me back,” I said quickly. “I mean it, Sam, it’s a gift.” When he merely stared at me, unimpressed, I added, “Besides, I wouldn’t know. I used my discount on it.”

As soon as I said that, his face went from annoyed to a completely different expression, something more soft and open. “You used your discount?”

“Yeah. So what?”

“You never use your discount.”

“What are you talking about? I use my discount.” This was a lie. Kiera and Jesse used theirs all the time, but I liked saving mine for a special occasion, spending it on something I really wanted. Kiera said it was dumb, but I didn’t want the novelty feeling to wear off just yet.

“No, you don’t,” Sam said, still looking at me with that weirdly fond look on his face. “Thanks, Lexi, you’re the best. I can’t believe you got it for me.”

I shrugged, feeling more than a little bashful. “Yeah, well. No big deal.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it.” Sam carefully placed it on top of his clothes before he yawned. “Later, though. I’m tired.” He crawled onto my bed and flopped down next to me, combing his hair down with his fingers.

“Hey, leave it like that. I like your hair all messy.”

He snorted. “You do?”

“Yeah.” I gently ruffled it, making it stick up again. “Much better.”

“Thanks.” Sam sighed and rolled onto his stomach. He slung an arm over my waist before leaning up and kissing me on the cheek. “Night, sweetness.” He closed his eyes and was asleep instantly, leaving me to lie awake and contemplate everything that had just happened.

First of all, this was the first time that Sam and I were sleeping together without actually having had slept together. Which was weird. We’d been having sex for a while now, and we never went to bed without it these days. Somehow, it felt even more intimate than it would’ve if we had.

Second, what was with calling me “sweetness”? Aside from our silly nicknames, like Lex and Lexi and Alexa Fogerty and Sammy and Sam-A-Lam and Sam-I-Am, we didn’t have any cutesy pet names for each other because that wasn’t what we were. “Sweetness” was a nickname Dan called Hazel when they were being particularly gross. It was for people who were dating, who were together and in love. It certainly wasn’t for me and Sam.