The Last Good Thing About This Part of Town

The future of the band was uncertain, but the status of the members’ friendships was much less so. The month of November passed quickly because they spent nearly every waking free hour together at Andy and Pete’s apartment or in Patrick’s basement. Joe and Julianna were officially dating, and Patrick was officially pissed off but doing his best to tamp down the jealousy. At the very least, he was still treating his best friends with decency and respect despite the roiling storm of various emotions he did not even want to admit having when Joe and Julianna were together. Neither one of them were into public displays of affection. It was easy for Patrick to pretend they were still only friends when they hung out a group except when Julianna would giggle at one of Joe’s stupid jokes or he would just look at her with those shining eyes and his entire demeanor would soften. Patrick wanted to punch something when he saw the emotions play across Joe’s expressive face; mostly because Patrick wanted to be so free-wheeling and open about his own feelings. But then that crippling doubt would fill his mind, forcing him to pretend to be what he thought his friends wanted from him rather than just being.

The boys continued to play music together, mostly rock and roll covers because it felt wrong to play Arma Angelus songs without Tim. Those songs, after all, were half his. He wrote most of the melodies and some of the lyrics, though Pete often gets all the credit for his poetry. He was still writing, but as a whole the boys were not writing new music at this point. Shortly after that Halloween house party, they decided that Arma Angelus, the name and essence of the band that Tim had helped create, was done. Pete even posted and RIP date for Arma Angelus on his LiveJournal account, and suddenly it was all so real. They either had to start from square one and rebuild everything, or hope the small fan base of friends and acquaintances that they had would stick around and embrace a new band, or they were done completely. They had not decided if they were going to try a new musical direction.

The four remaining members had such diverse tastes in music and different ideas as to what music they wanted to create. Patrick loved the art of Prince, Tom Waits and Elvis Costello while Pete was all fast bass lines and the rioting poetry of The Ramones and Green Day. Joe wanted guitar solos and the philosophical musings of Metallica and Led Zeppelin, but Andy really wanted to follow in the anarchist, rhythmic footsteps of Earth Crisis. They still did not know how to bring their separate preferences together and form a band they could all be proud of. Pete was not interested in playing music if the other three he wanted to write and perform with had no input. And he was certain all three of them felt the same way. Most importantly, though, they needed a singer. Pete hated singing his own lyrics, and he did not think he was that great of a vocalist anyway, unless he was screaming.

Sometime around Thanksgiving, the boys – more specifically, Joe – found out Julianna could sing. They had been in Patrick’s basement just playing around on their instruments and Joe began strumming the opening riff to the Beatles’ “Blackbird.” Julianna’s voice carried through the room, clear, confident and pitch perfect as she joined in with the words to the song. Eventually, the rest of the guys found the tune as well and they had a fun little jam session of old pop rock songs. The boys played as Julianna sang. As beautiful as her voice was, though, she was not particularly interested in vocally fronting a band; especially not a hard rock band. And Pete and Joe wanted to keep the band a boys’ club kind of thing. They loved having Julianna around and valued her friendship and input both musically and personally, but the band belonged to the four of them. Julianna realized that and said as much when Patrick brought up the idea of having her fill in even if only for a few gigs until they figured out what they were going to do. Pete insisted, though, that without Tim it should just be the four of them. Patrick argued if none of them were willing or able to sing then the future of the band was shaky at best, and they decided to end the conversation at that point to avoid a heated Pete versus Patrick argument.

It was the day Christmas break began for Joe, Julianna and Patrick that Andy announced he would be starting college at the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee. He was planning to move out of the apartment he shared with Pete and go back home to live with his mom in Menomonee Falls until he found a job and was able to pay rent on his own place. He was officially pulling himself out of the band’s future plans but promised he would remain in contact and try to get back down to Chicago to hang out with them on the long weekends and breaks.

“Man, this sucks,” Joe pushed a hand through his ever-growing curly mop of hair and sighed. He was sitting on one end of the sectional and Julianna was sitting on the floor between his knees, her legs stretched out in front of her. Patrick, who was sprawled across the recliner with his guitar in his lap, looked away and focused on Pete, who was next to Joe and suddenly very interested in picking at his fingernails. Andy was laying on his back on the floor perpendicular to Julianna’s feet and was tossing a tennis ball above his face then catching it repeatedly.

“Patrick can drum, dude, if you’re still thinking of keeping the band together,” Andy reminded his friend.

“That’s not the point,” Joe said. “I’m gonna miss you, man.” Julianna patted his right calf affectionately.

“It’s not like I’m dying. I’ll be around,” Andy caught the ball then tossed it back towards the ceiling. “Plus, I’m still the best fucking drummer you’ll ever know so when you all become famous I can say I used to drum for that band.”

Patrick smirked, “So humble, but I’m glad you plan to ride our coat tails of success and rock stardom.”

“Dream on, man, you’ll be riding mine when I’m managing you on my own record label,” Andy sassed in his quiet voice. Patrick, Joe and Julianna chuckled at their friend’s bravado, but Pete continued to frown at his now-bloody cuticles. He was physically in the room, but Patrick knew his brain was on another plane, probably in a whole different dimension. For a guy seemingly so open with his emotions, willing to write metaphors about his darkest secrets and share snapshots of his daily life online, Pete could purse his lips and slant his eyes and become emotionally unavailable to his closest friends.

“Hey, Peter Pan,” Patrick chucked his guitar pick at the older man’s forehead. It hit him on the cheek and dropped in his lap. “Come back to earth.”

Pete blinked a few times and turned his head to look over at his teenaged friend, then smirked and grabbed the guitar pick out of his lap, closing it in his fist, “Great aim, Stumph. You ever think about playing baseball?”

Patrick ignored him, running the fingers of his left hand along the neck of his guitar, tapping out the melody playing through his brain. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Joe’s fingers idly stroking and twisting strands of Julianna’s hair. He felt his heart drop because Joe’s actions were so innocent yet so intimate. Patrick hated the jealousy coursing through his veins.

While at school, he could almost forget about his two best friends dating because he did not have any classes with Julianna, and there was not much talking going on during Independent Music with Joe. Outside of school, though, Joe and Julianna were always together, and Patrick was there too as his friends usually preferred to hang out in his basement. Logically, Patrick knew these feelings – jealousy, bitterness, hurt, whatever they were – were not justified. He still felt them, regardless, and could not figure out how to stop the sick drop of his heart every time Julianna would take Joe’s hand, or the way his throat suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton when Joe would casually drape his arm around her neck and pull her against his side just to brush his lips against her temple. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to talk about this with Pete, who was as unbiased a third-party as he could find. Patrick’s mom struggled with the concept that her youngest son was of dating age, so she was no help. When his dad was around he did not want to waste the time they had together talking about his girl problems, and there was not a snowman’s chance in hell that he was going to tell his brother and sister about this.

Between helping Andy move out and the general busyness of the holidays, Patrick never had a chance to get Pete alone and talk about himself for once. For Andy’s last night in Illinois, three days before Christmas, the whole gang went to the all-night bowling alley and Patrick suffered through Joe and Julianna’s sickly sweet PDA and not-so-secret smiles in each others’ direction. He played the worst game of his life, but it didn’t matter because Joe was on fire and they beat Pete and Andy in three games. Then the next morning, Pete flew out to be with his family for Christmas at their vacation home in Vail, Colorado. When Joe and Julianna called to hangout, Patrick politely declined with the claim that he had to help his mom decorate the tree or clean the house for the company they would have on Christmas Day. It was half-true.

The Stumphs had a Christmas tradition of cutting down and decorating their tree the night before Christmas Eve, and this was Patrick’s favorite part of the whole holiday because it was the one day his immediate family was together and getting along. Patrick’s dad brought his axe and saw, Kevin, Megan and Patrick put aside the sibling rivalry that was alive and well the other 364 days of the year, and his mom made little pfeffernusse cookies and the best hot chocolate from scratch as they strung the colorful lights around the sweet-smelling pine. As Patrick and his dad carried the tree into the house from the car, Kevin went ahead of them to start a fire in the rarely-used fireplace. It was Megan’s turn to pick the music, and soon their mom’s soul Christmas record played from the vintage record player in the corner of the room.

Mrs. Stumph filled five of the largest, gaudiest Christmas mugs she could find with her famous hot chocolate and brought them to her family. She settled on the couch, sipping her hot chocolate, while her sons and former husband put the lights on the seven-foot pine tree. Megan vacuumed up most of the needles, and then it was time for ornaments and tinsel. They laughed when Megan threw as much tinsel into Patrick’s hair as she did on the tree, and they all gently teased Kevin for the obsessive manner in which he instructed them to put the ornaments on the tree. Their dad inevitably put three glass ball ornaments on the same branch just to get a rise out of his oldest son.

Afterwards, full of cookies and hot chocolate, the family lounged around the family room just talking, humming Christmas carols and staring at the shimmering, decorated tree. His dad brought out his old Fender, Patrick sat at the piano, and the five of them sang Christmas carols until well after midnight. Patrick forgot all about Joe and Julianna and his impossible crush on the girl dating his best friend. He wasn’t worried about the future of the band or that thing he wanted to talk to Pete about.

Reality came crashing back in several days later, after the gifts were opened and the Christmas leftovers were slowly disappearing from the fridge, when Pete called his friends to let them know he was back in town and wanted to throw a New Year’s Eve rager at his parents’ house, which he had been put in charge of until they got back from Colorado after the first of the year. The Wentzes told him he could have a party, but the house had best be spotless when they returned, and if anything was broken his ass was grass. Patrick, Joe and Julianna were over, helping Pete clean the house, remove all his mom’s glass decorations, fine China and anything breakable, and rearrange the furniture in the huge front room to create space to dance. The boys moved the TV, couch and recliners to the edges of the room while Julianna checked all the cupboards in the kitchen and carried all the China plates and glassware out to the garage for safe-keeping.

“When is Andy supposed to get here?” Patrick asked conversationally as he and Pete carried the loveseat to the far corner of the big room.

“Eight or eight-thirty. He said he’d be here right before party time,” Pete answered.

“Did you guys hear he has a girlfriend now?” Joe added from where he was boxing up the decorations on the endtables and coffee table.

“Yeah, some hot blonde. I guess they met at the gym?” Pete grinned.

“Surprise, surprise, dude spends enough time working out. Glad it finally paid off,” Joe muttered good-naturedly.

“Have you seen pictures of her or anything?” Patrick wiped the sweat off his forehead and resettled his trucker hat on his long hair. He either needed a haircut or needed to just embrace the flow while he still had hair. Judging by old pictures he had seen of his dad, Patrick didn’t have many more years left of hair on his head.

“No, but he said he might bring her tonight,” Pete answered, resting against the newly relocated loveseat. “It depends on if she has to work tomorrow or something.”

“Man, that’s awesome,” Joe said, “I’m happy for him. Hope it works out.”

“I think it’s his first relationship that has lasted longer than a couple days,” Pete went over to help Joe move the glass and wrought iron coffee table in front of the windows, hopefully as a deterant for the drunkies looking to send themselves or their friends through the windows.

“So going to school has worked out well for him so far,” Joe grinned and Pete agreed.

“Oh, hey, nice to see you boys standing around, working so hard,” Julianna breezed into the room, her dark hair pulled into a high, messy bun on top of her head. Loose strands of hair framed her face, softening her features, and she was wearing a minimal amount of make-up. Patrick thought this aws when she was most beautiful; casual, carefree, her whole lovely face on display rather than being half-hidden by her hair. But it was like a spike to his gut when her brown eyes lit on Joe and she smiled shyly. He wished those brown eyes would look at him like that; with adoration, fondness and….love? God, he hoped they weren’t in love because he was sure that would absolutely kill him. He would need new friends if that were the case. As it was, being around them was torturous, wreaking havoc on his adolescent heart and emotions.

Julianna went to her boyfriend, lifting up onto her tiptoes, pressing her lips briefly against his cheek, and enjoying how he bent down ever so slightly to meet her touch. Then she wandered over to sit on the staircase landing, exhaling an exaggerated sigh.

“Hey, we moved all the furniture,” Pete shot back, mock embarrassment wrinkling his brow. “That’s hard work.”

“Mmhmm, ok, you gonna decorate the room now?” Julianna leaned back, bracing her palms on the floor behind her, and rolled her head and shoulders to relieve some of the soreness from carrying heavy boxes of dining ware.

“What’s wrong with how it is now?” Pete motioned around the room, now open, bare and devoid of Mrs. Wentz’s mix of modern and antique décor.

“It needs something….like, festive or….I don’t know, at least balloons or something,” Julianna pondered out loud.

“We have some stuff left over from my sister’s graduation party,” Pete offered. “I think there’s some balloons and streamers and shit.”

“That’ll work,” Julianna shrugged and stood, still rolling out some of the stiff muscles in her upper body. Then she realized Pete had just roped her into doing something she had no intention of volunteering for. That sneaky bastard! But she had brought it up, and she was the only one in the group with half a brain capable of making the plain room look like a party room. After all, she had been witnessing her mom and professional interior decorators transform the Toews house for parties all her life – fancy dinners parties, Christmas, Thanksgiving, their house was always impeccable. Julianna was no pro, but she was certain good taste was genetic to a point. As much as she wanted to forsake the fact that she was her mother’s daughter, Julianna could admit that her mom knew how to throw a party.

The four friends decided that Pete and Joe would go pick up the keg and snacks while Patrick helped Julianna string up the balloons and streamers they found in Pete’s parents’ basement. Patrick could not believe that just a couple months ago she had kissed him on his doorstep and they fell into a comfortable friendship until Joe swooped in with his big Jewish fro, weird sense of humor and dark good looks. Their conversation was stilted when no one else was around, like she could no longer find common ground with him. She asked how his Christmas was, and he answered in single words like a mute idiot. After an awkward pause, he remembered to ask about her holiday. She gratefully talked about how her extended family was at her house and her mom made sure the house was flawlessly decked out in red, green and gold, then her brother invited some of his hockey friends over because their families were in Canada. It was delightfully boring small talk, but Patrick couldn’t handle anymore than that in the moment.

Pete and Joe returned soon after, the keg was tapped, and it was party time. Chris was the first to show up with his DJ equipment and a 12-pack of Bud Light. Not long after that house was filled to the brim with gyrating bodies, more liquor than a well-stocked bar and thumping dance music courtesy of Chris and his friend Bryan. Andy and his girlfriend showed up, too. After introducing her to his friends, Andy led her to a corner of the room where they proceeded to make out. Patrick did not intend to get totally wasted this night, but he saw Joe and Julianna grinding up on each other then Pete was placing a plastic cup of cold beer in his hand.

“You’re gonna need this, man,” Pete gave him a look that was sympathy, pity and just a hint of it’s your own damn fault. “Come DJ with me. I’ll play some new jack swing for ya.” So Patrick sipped his beer while Pete put on the headphones and spun a mixture of pop, rock and rap with some Bell Biv DeVoe and Montell Jordan thrown in just because he knew it would make Patrick happy. By the time his first beer was gone, the kid was moving to the beat alongside Pete.

“Dude, we have to put the band back together,” Patrick blurted out halfway through his second cup of alcohol. “That’s what I wanna do. I wanna play music and I wanna play it with you.” Pete grinned and draped his arm across the shorter boy’s shoulders, leaning close to talk in his ear over the booming Jay-Z song.

“Me too,” Pete said decisively. During Patrick’s third beer, a girl came up to the DJ booth and asked if he wanted to dance. She was older, probably closer to Pete’s age than Patrick’s, with long, straight blonde-brown hair that was not a natural color. She was wearing a thin, low-cut tank top, mini-skirt and too much make-up, but she could be the distraction Patrick needed so he looked to Pete, who nodded his approval. The teenager took a last long swig of his beer then let the girl lead him to the crowded floor where she immediately began dancing up on him, moving her hips so their lower bodies rubbed together. Patrick followed her lead, allowing himself to get caught up in the rhythm of the music and the feeling of this girl moving against his body. His alcohol-hazed brain forgot about Julianna, Joe, the drama of teenage love and the band, only existing in this moment.

Julianna danced alone, or as alone as she could be with the dozens of Pete’s friends and acquaintances gyrating all around her in the packed living room, while Joe left to get more beer. He had been gone too long, though, for just making a beer run, then she saw him near the DJ booth talking with Andy, Pete and Chris so she decided to just keep dancing. He wasn’t flirting with some girl – not that he was prone to stray – but no one had ever accused Julianna of being secure in her relationships. A familiar bobbing blonde head caught her attention among the swarm of bodies, and she recognized Patrick with an older, slutty-looking woman rubbing all over him. What. The. Hell?

Maybe it was the beer in her system fogging up her senses or the fierce protectiveness they all felt toward him, but she was sure it was not jealousy stabbing at her gut, causing her to seethe at the sight of Patrick and this….slut. The girl was rail thin and leggy, probably three or four inches taller than Patrick, with her hands gripping his shoulders and his hands at her waist. Their hips and thighs bumped and grinded to the overwhelming bass, and he was smiling like he was actually enjoying himself. Another wave of anger curled through her stomach. Julianna stalked across the dance floor before even fully comprehending that she had no plan once she was standing in front of the dancing pair.

“Patrick!” Julianna shouted over the music, placing her right hand on his side and allowing her face to open up with a wide smile. “Patrick! Dance with me!” The girl glared at Julianna, but Patrick just lifted one corner of his mouth apologetically and shrugged, allowing Julianna to practically mold herself to the front of his body. The other girl turned and walked off in a huff, but Patrick suddenly could not bring himself to care because the girl he wanted so fiercely had her hands in the air as her body moved against his to the beat of the 90s techno song. She was carefree and drunk, but so was he, and so they danced.

The song switched to a slower ballad, and Patrick’s eyes went wide as they abruptly stopped moving and just stared at each other, the smiles falling off both their faces. He hated cliches, especially the one about the deer in the headlights, but he suddenly understood the feeling. For some reason, their drunk minds were okay with being all over each other during the fast songs, but slow dances were just too intimate and she was taken….by his best friend.

“Come on,” Julianna was the first to act, holding her hand out palm up, “we’re friends, right? It’s not cheating to slow dance together, and Joe’s not the jealous type anyway.”

“Yeah, we’re friends,” Patrick took her hand and pulled her closer, his hands finally settling on her waist as she draped her arms over his shoulders, her fingers close enough to touch the hair at the back of his neck but she didn’t. Instead, she just let him take the lead, a little clumsy because of the alcohol and his admitted uncoordination, but there was a charm to it as well. She knew he was uncomfortable doing this kind of thing, and yet here they were, physically as close as they could be without crossing that friendship boundary. He looked down at his feet to ensure he wasn’t stepping on hers, then raised his chin and grinned at her. Julianna felt a flutter in the general area of her heart and reached up to push a lock of his longish blonde hair out of his eyes. Patrick sucked in a breath at her affectionate gesture and tried to convince himself that she was just caught up in the moment; they were mentally impaired, dancing close at a New Year’s Eve party. When it really mattered, she had chosen Joe over him and that was a difficult reality to grasp.

Julianna rested her head on Patrick’s shoulder as they swayed together to the music, neither one of them feeling the need to make conversation. She thought back to the first night they danced like this. They barely knew each other and were flying high from watching their friends play an awesome show. She had been slightly tipsy from her first beer, and she remembers falling asleep in his car then kissing him on the cheek under her porch light. She thought he was as into her as she was him, and she really thought he would ask her out the next day. He never did, and she didn’t know why. Then she began talking to Joe and he was so easy to like. She never had to wonder what he was feeling or thinking because he either said it or let his face and actions show it. She never had to drag conversation out of Joe because he always had something to say, and she liked his easy honesty. He had nothing to hide, and he let her know how he felt about her.

Suddenly, she raised her head to meet Patrick’s gaze, “How come you never asked me out?”