What Might've Been (Cricky)

The Worst Day Ever Has A Sort-Of Okay Ending

The following day, I was supposed to meet up with everyone in the band to go over the parts that I'd written. Granted, I was only the bassist and therefore had very little say in what actually was played. Nonetheless, I was determined to write at least a small part of the record. 

Somehow, like every other day, I'd managed to lose something. I'd woken up too late, and I'd managed to lose every guitar and bass case that I owned. My belt and bracelets jingled together while I looked through my things to find some way of carrying an instrument. It took probably an extra half an hour to do this. 

By the time I finally got everything stuffed into the back of my extremely small sedan, it was almost noon. I jumped into the front seat, turned the key to ignite the engine, and found that it wasn't starting properly. The engine coughed and sputtered, but didn't come to life. I twisted the key three times. "Come on, baby, Come on," I encouraged the car. I really needed a new one, and at this point I kept jumper cables in the back seat since it did this so often. I found a man leaving the lot, and stopped him. I held up the cables and explained my situation. He understood and opened his hood so that I could start my car. Even with the jump start though, it took four tries to get my engine to go. He told me that it was time for a new battery. I didn't bother explaining to him that I'd already tried that. Now that it was well past twelve, I finally started driving to the house at which everyone else was staying. I wondered why they'd let me rent out my apartment for the month if they had this house. 

It was a terrible day for my luck though. My car just wasn't having anything today. I ran out of gas about halfway there. I don't mean out of gas as in the tank was pretty close to empty and I just needed to find a station, I mean that the tank didn't say that it was close to empty, but the car ran out. This, again, was not the first time that said incident had happened to me. Despite being illegal, for this specific purpose I always kept a can of gas in my trunk. I opened it, and found that my can was completely empty. When was the last time I'd filled this? I thought of all of the times I'd filled my car on the side of a highway from Seattle to here. I put the empty can back into the trunk looking around for a gas station. I wasn't that far from one, actually. I'd just have to push my car up one really steep hill. I sighed, rolled up my sleeves, put the car in neutral, and started pushing. 

By the time that I'd pushed it up that hill, it was past one in the afternoon. It took me forty minutes to push it up. I pushed it into the gas station. glad to see I was the only one there. The tank was filled within a few minutes. Before leaving, I called TJ. In hindsight, that was a mistake. He was the only one I really knew though. He answered. "Where the fuck are you?"

"I couldn't find my bass case, my car needed a jump start, then I was outta gas, so I had to push my car up a hill for forty minutes. I'll probably need another jump start, but there's no one here. Hang on a sec-" I paid for the gas, turned the key, and was unsurprised to find that my car wouldn't come to life once again. "I need someone to come and get me out. I'm stuck at this gas station." I turned the key once more, relieved to hear the sound of the motor starting. "Wait, never mind. I got it now. I'll probably be there in ten minutes, okay?" I hung up on him. The whole time that I was talking, he was talking over me. I think it was more out of concern than anything else. 

Eventually, I really did get to the house. I went to open the back door, which was stuck. This motherfucking car is really giving me a headache today. I went around to the other side to open the other door, which did open. After taking out my instrument, Chris was standing outside, arms crossed. At first, I thought that he was angry with me. "You should have told me about your car," He said, much to my surprise. "I would've come to get you or something."

"It's okay. I just need to spend my money better and get a new one." I closed the door and walked up the front lawn, which desperately needed to be cut. 

TJ came out too, gently shoving Chris out of the way. "I'm buying you a new car," He said assertively. 

I was immediately very embarrassed. "Y-you don't need to do that." I went to make a gesture with my arms that told him that I didn't need his help, but instead ended up just dropping my bass. "I can buy one myself." I picked up the case once more, looking to enter the house. Both of them stepped out of the way and let me into the very, very, very messy house. There was paper and random odds and ends literally everywhere. In the room directly next to me, a television blasted a news broadcast. 

"Welcome to the place," Ryan said, awkwardly spreading out his arms. He pointed to my case. "You can just put that down anywhere there's room." I put it against the wall after he said so. "Sit wherever you can find room." He nodded to the place that looked like a designated living room, but it was hard to say for sure whether or not it really was official or not. 

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Someone else said, looking at me from over the couch. I couldn't remember his name. 

"I had a little car trouble," I admitted. "What's your name again?"

"I'm Angelo," He reminded me. 

"Oh, right. Sorry." I felt awkward as I sank into one of the chairs. 

"I guess I should've given you a pair of keys instead of a deck of cards," Josh said, entering the room with a somewhat reassuring grin. TJ shot him a nasty glare. 

"'Right then," Ryan clapped his hands together, sensing the tension between the two of them. "Let's get on with why you came. You wanna show us those parts?"

I nodded, glad that this was a professional gathering. 

I was also grateful that they seemed to genuinely listen to all of my ideas. Granted, almost all of them got some critiquing, but it was nice that I was included. When it came time for me to return home, that's when some issues arose. "I'll take you home," TJ and Chris volunteered at the same time. Both looked at each other. "I'm taking him back," TJ said, assertive once more, while pointing to himself. 

Chris whispered something that I couldn't hear in TJ's ear. He shook his head, jaw dropped a bit. "You and I both know you would." Chris crossed his arms. 

"I promise I won't," TJ told him in a hushed tone. 

"Or you could just jump start my car and I can drive myself home," I suggested, getting a bit tired of standing around, holding my bass. 

"NO!" All five of them said, simultaneously. I was actually rather amazed that they were able to do that. Talk about being on the same wavelength. 

"Fine then. TJ can just take me home. I have a feeling if I asked literally anyone else, there would be a problem." I started for the door. 

I did ask for him to drive me, but I regretted it. In all honesty, the last thing I wanted to do was spend more time with TJ. He was too friendly. I was surprised when he silently got into a car that I assumed was his, and told me to sit my ass in the seat. I did as he said. "I don't bite," He told me, starting the car. 

"Sometimes I wonder." I put my seat belt on while he started driving down the driveway. "What did you promise Chris you wouldn't do?"

He gripped the stealing wheel tighter. "Chris is under the impression that I'd fuck you if I took you back."

"And would you?" I tried not to sound like I believed that he actually would. 

"I have been known to have loose sexual morals," He admitted, nodding as we approached a red light. "I wouldn't do it if you didn't want me to though."

"But you'd consider it if I asked." I sat back in my seat. 

"Possibly. But I can't do that. I'm forced to have constant contact with you. If I fucked you, that would make things weird for more than just us."

"Shouldn't," I corrected. "You shouldn't do it."

He sighed. "Exactly. I shouldn't do it."

"I'll consider you," I told him. We'd arrived in the parking lot of my apartment. 

"What?" He asked, unsure if he'd heard me right.

"I said that I'll consider you," I repeated. "It doesn't mean anything."