deadly nightshade | fever in, fever out

chapter 25: dave, frank, and cliff

Cliff guided her by the hand into the tiny club: once again, it was early enough that they had plenty of time to congregate on the side of the room, alone, and out of earshot of the others. Sam held onto the yellow tulip he had given her with two fingers and she brought the petals to her nose for a whiff of that fresh smell.
"I didn't know if you wanted a bouquet again," he confessed with a shrug.
"It's okay," she told him as she held the flower close to her chest. "Sometimes one is good." She took another whiff from those smooth yellow petals, as smooth as a tapestry of silk.
"Do you wanna dance again later tonight?" she asked him.
"Yes, please," he replied; he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. "We did a square dance last time—let's do a little bit of slow ballroom dancing, too."
He then wagged his finger at her.
"I have something else to give you," he said, and he ducked past her to the bar at the far side of the room. She watched him with her hands still up to her chest so she could smell the tulip some more. He strode around Lars, who had taken his seat at the bar with a shot of vodka, and he ducked out of sight for a moment. She could only see part of his back; he rose up and stuck his hand behind his back before he returned to her.
"What'chu got for me?" she asked him once he came within earshot.
"Close your eyes and stick out your arm," he told her. She did just that with her left arm and she felt something brush against her skin.
"Okay," he said. She opened her eyes and she spotted a bracelet on her wrist made of braided strips of black leather and silver rings: she took a second look to find small sparkling rhinestones embedded within the braids. It was fastened together with a big round fancy silver button about the size of a nickel.
"This is something I found in the book shop," he explained, "it was tucked between that copy of Siddhartha we found as well as a copy of Frankenstein. I just thought it was something you'd like."
"I do!" she declared as she put one arm around him and held him close to her. She rested the side of her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and took in the soft sound of his heartbeat underneath his denim button up shirt. Sam kept the tulip near to her nose still.
Something fell over on the other side of the room and then a bunch of paper fell onto the floor. Sam opened her eyes but she kept her head pressed to his chest.
Dan shuffled through a bunch of paper on the floor: he had already slung his guitar over his shoulder, and he swung it upon his back so he could look for something. Sam lifted her gaze to the other side of the stage, where someone had moved the couch from backstage and put it up against the wall.
Dan picked up some paper and took something off the floor. He stood back up and strode over to the couch: he almost tripped over the cables on the side of the stage but he caught himself, albeit without unplugging anything. Scott skidded into the room right then.
"Hey!" he declared. Dan staggered forward and plopped down on the couch: the whole entire time, he never let go of his guitar. Indeed, once he took his seat on the cushions, he brought it forward and rested it upon his lap. He looked up at Scott as if nothing happened.
"What's all the hubbub, bub?" Scott asked him.
"Couldn't find my tuner," he quipped as he picked up a little black box from the cushion next to him.
"Sure that's yours and not Alex and Eric's?"
"It's all of ours," Dan pointed out, "yours, too."
Sam looked up at Cliff, who gazed down at her: the light over their heads shone down on him so it looked as though a halo surrounded his head.
"Wanna take a walk?" he suggested. "It's going to be a long time before Legacy take to the stage again."
"Yeah, let's," she said. He doubled back to the bar to fetch his hat and to tell Lars where they were going. Once Cliff ran his finger across the wide brim of his hat, Sam put her sunglasses back on before they headed back outside. He held the door open for her and she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
He hurried up next to her so they walked side by side on the narrow sidewalk.
The sun hung strong and high over the city in the vast clear blue sky. Up ahead of them, the street bustled with life, and yet they rounded the corner towards where Joey's car was parked. Joey himself had gone in through the back door; the two of them strode at a brisk pace past the puddle of barf in the storm drain. Sam thought about Alex, who had ducked out of there and into the shadows around the club, and she wondered if he was alright somewhere in there.
She turned her attention to the block ahead of them once they had cleared the piece of sidewalk and slowed to a stroll. A patch of green grass and a line of trees stood across the corner up ahead. The very sight of the green was enough for Sam to bring the tulip up to her nose again. She looked down at the bracelet Cliff had given her and a part of her felt as though he was spoiling her. Spoiling her even with what he had.
"Is that who I think it is?" he said out of the blue.
"Who?" she asked him. Cliff pointed up ahead and there was a man seated on the curb in front of the grass. He looked back at her with a twinkle in his eye.
"Come along," he coaxed her. His long legs stretched enough that Sam fell behind him to the end of the sidewalk; however, he awaited her at the corner, and they crossed the little side street together. Once they came closer to him, Sam made out the sight of the helmet of bright orange curls upon his head: they sprawled down over his shoulders and halfway down his back. Despite it being a nice day, he wore a faded black leather jacket over ragged faded denim jeans with large gaping holes in the knees. A pair of ragged gloves hung out of his pocket.
"Dave!" Cliff called out once they reached the corner. The man lifted his head and frowned at first, but then he showed them a smile once they came closer to him. He was a skinny, scrawny man who looked as though he was awaiting a ride somewhere.
"Hey, Cliff," he replied back to him in a broken voice; Sam picked up the smell of cigarettes on him as well as fried beans. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."
"I'm seein' Anthrax and Legacy tonight with her," Cliff explained. "This is my date, Samantha."
"Or Sam as I go by," she said as she lifted her sunglasses off of her face for a better look at him.
"Sam, this is my friend Dave Mustaine," Cliff introduced her. He gazed up at her from the gutter: the sunlight shone about his crown of bright orange.
"You're from California," he remarked at a fast clip.
"Yeah." She paused for a few seconds. "How'd you know?"
"You're too friendly," he said as he brought a hand over his brow to protect his eyes from the sun. "You're also lacking that high New York energy, too."
"Everything is just a hustle and bustle around here," she added.
"Right! And you're too laid back, too." He gestured up at Cliff. "He and I used to be in Metallica together."
She then gasped.
"Oh, so you're Dave!" she declared.
"The infamous Dave," he corrected her.
"Well, what're you doin' here?" Cliff asked him.
"I'm homeless now, dude," Dave replied, even with the nonchalant look on his face. "Been homeless, too, even after Megadeth doing a bit of touring for our first record. Right now, I'm just hanging out here in the Big Apple because of the whole thing with studio time. It's the whole waiting game and everything."
"Oh, man, I'm really sorry to hear that," Cliff confessed.
"Yeah, I hope I can get back to L.A to do the new album by the year's end. Even thought I've been sleeping on a girl's old couch, and biding my time, being here in New York has kind of given me a different perspective of everything."
"That's—kind of why I moved out here," Sam told him at a deliberate pace.
"Oh, yeah?" Dave showed her a little smile.
"Yeah. I came here because I just wanted to be here as a change of pace. I haven't had as many problems, though."
"That's smart," he declared. He then cleared his throat and stood to his feet. Much like Cliff, he towered over her, this long and lanky redheaded man wrapped in rags that barely clung onto his emaciated body.
"You know I only started Megadeth just to spite James and Lars, right?"
"He really did, too," Cliff filled in for him. "I had nothing to do with it so—if you wanna know more about that."
"But Cliff and I are still good friends, though," Dave continued.
"Don't get mad, get even, I guess?" Sam chuckled.
"Yes, YES!" Dave shot out a hand to her for a high five, and she did it with her pinky finger given her hands were full with the tulip and her sunglasses.
"Well, at least you've got a couch to sleep on," Cliff pointed out.
"Yeah, but I think she might kill me, though," Dave confessed.
"Why?" Sam chuckled at that.
"I like another girl," he said, still nonchalant. "I might have to break up with Ellen so I can go with Corinne."
"Do what you gotta do, that's what I say, man," Cliff encouraged him.
"I hope she can get me out to California because I wrote a couple of songs already for the new album. I need to be back out West soon here because—you know—"
"It'll save you," Sam finished for him.
"It'll save me and also my bassist," he pointed out. "He and I are both struggling right now." Dave nodded at the flower and the bracelet.
"Did he give you those?" he asked her.
"Yes, he did."
"I found the bracelet," Cliff explained, "the tulip I picked on my way over here. Even with our doing better than—we were—I still think less is more."
"One of you kids have the time right now?" Dave asked them.
"It's around lunchtime," Sam replied. "That's all we know at the moment."
"I might poke my head into the show tonight," he told her with a raise of his eyebrow. "I also ask 'cause I haven't eaten all day, either. I'm also dying of thirst right now."
"We can go back and get you a drink of water," Sam suggested.
"As long as James and Lars don't see me," he told her with a wave of his hand.
"Yeah, he's, uh—" Cliff cleared his throat. "—kind of a loaded subject with the two of them especially. At least, that's all I know. That's as far as I know."
"Cliff only has hearsay," Dave pointed out.
"Well, let's—get you something, though," Sam insisted as she put her sunglasses back on, and Dave followed suit with his own. She started back down the sidewalk and even over the noise of the street, she could hear him tell Cliff, "I like this girl."
She brought the tulip up to her nose once she reached the corner once again. The two young men stood on either side of her for a moment, and she led the way across the pavement, back to L'Amour.
"She came here with Joey," Cliff told Dave at one point.
"Joey from Anthrax?" he said.
"Yeah. He's another one who's been sleeping on her couch, too, oddly enough."
"We're just friends, though," Sam pointed out with a quick turn around to face them. "I promise."
"I hope you stay just friends," Dave stifled a laugh.
"I'm not gonna kill him," she scoffed. "If he finds someone at some point, I'll be happy for him."
She returned to a straight position and continued on to the corner of the club. Frank and Scott congregated outside of the side door: the sun shone down upon the dark crowns of their heads such that it looked as though they wore little golden crowns.
"Oh, hey, Dave," Scott greeted him, to which Dave brought a finger to his lips. "Oh, right, James and Lars," he followed along. "And yeah, they're here right now."
"Anyway, what brings you here?" Frank asked him as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun.
"I'm just dyin' of thirst right now," Dave told him.
"Well, what brings you to New York?" Frank clarified.
"I'm staying with a girl until I can get my ass out to California to record a record," Dave briskly said, the first time he showed any bit of emotion right in front of Sam. "I just want a drink of water for the time being, though."
"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," Frank replied with a nervous nod of his head. He ducked back inside of the club; meanwhile, Scott remained there on the sidewalk with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.
"Quite the interesting little amalgamation we got here," Dave remarked.
"Yeah, I'll say," Scott added as he raised his thick dark eyebrows. "Buncha starving artists here."
"In Sam's case, quite literally," Cliff chimed in.
"I like artists," Dave stated as he stuffed the gloves further into his jacket pocket. "You guys work harder than we do. At least, that's what I think, anyway."
"Yeah, but you guys make inanimate objects make noises, though," Sam pointed out.
"You make stuff out of nothing," he insisted. A gust of wind made its way through the skyscrapers and his bright orange curls billowed over his head and shoulders.
Frank almost stumbled out of the club right then with a small clean glass of water in one hand. He gave it to Dave, who pushed his hair back with his free hand and looked on at him with a blank look on his face.
"Thank you—and don't sweat it, Frank," he declared. Cliff then turned to Sam, again with a twinkle in his eye.
"Do you want anything?" he offered her.
"Not really, no," she said as she adjusted the bracelet and shifted her weight right in her spot on the sidewalk. Dave meanwhile, had downed the whole drink of water in four large gulps.
"Want some more?" Frank offered him.
"Please. And I hope I can hang out around here without James and Lars seeing me."
"We'll sneak you into the shadows if we've gotta," Scott promised him.
Cliff then gestured for Sam to follow him away from there.
"Where you guys going?" Dave called after them.
"We're gonna take a walk," Cliff replied. "Won't be long."
He was quick to walk away from the spot on the sidewalk and he rested a single hand on Sam's shoulder as well. They strode away from the doorway and made their way towards the alleyway up ahead.
"I needed to get you away from there," Cliff explained to her once they were far out of earshot. "Like I said, it's only hearsay to me. So I don't like how my brothers are fighting with each other."
"That's—completely understandable," Sam replied, slightly out of breath. "It's only hearsay with you? Really?"
"Yeah, I had no say in firing Dave," he told her once they reached the street corner. "I'm still very good friends with him but it feels like I have to walk on eggshells most of the time when it comes to him, though. I can't really talk to anyone about it."
"Have you tried to?" she asked him as they came to a stop. "The whole thing made me nervous."
"Yeah, but every time I do, something always intervenes, though."
"I kinda feel bad for Dave, too," she confessed. "But he seems a little bit blunt, though."
"That's just how he is," Cliff explained. "And I would be, too, if I was thrown out like that and not given another chance to change my ways."
"Was he really that bad when he got drunk?"
"Oh, yeah. It got fucking crazy at times. He got violent after he kicked back a few bottles. I remember one time he got drunk and he punched a big hole in the wall of the studio. The three of us get giggly and goofy when we've had a few. It was like oil and water. I wanted to give him another chance, and I still do, too, as much as I like Kirk and everything."
"But you had no say in it, though," she said.
"None at all. James just told me one morning, 'we made Dave go back home to L.A. and we're getting a new guitarist.'" She thought about Joey and the fact that he let himself drink a supple amount. She hoped that nothing would happen between him and Anthrax.
She peered around the block before them.
"By the way, did you see where Joey went off to?" she asked him.
"I didn't, no," he confessed. "Why's that?"
"Well, 'cause he threw up when he and I got here," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders.
"I hope they don't go through what happened to us," Cliff confessed.
"I hope they don't, either," she echoed.
"I'll be pissed if they do," he added.
"I can see Joey and Dave getting together in a single act together," she suggested. "That is, if it happens and Megadeth lose their hold."
"They can call it 'Fired'," he laughed, and they crossed the street side by side to the opposite corner. Up ahead stood a stretch of more buildings as well as an entrance to the subway. He then turned his head to her.
"I have an idea," he told her, and he took her by the hand. They hurried to the staircase in between the wrought iron fence. Unlike the other subway stations, this one smelled as though it had just been cleaned.
They reached the bottom of the staircase and the train stood at the platform.
"You wanna get on the train?" she laughed at him.
"No," he said, and he guided her to a short corridor off to the right. On the right side of the hallway stood a broom closet.
"Right in here," he coaxed her with a gesture to the door.
"What's in here?" she asked him.
"I wanna get close to you," he said as he turned around to face her. "Like—much closer to you. Every kiss to you is one step closer to peeling it back."
"You," she sputtered, "wanna do that. In broad daylight."
"We're not exactly in broad daylight," he pointed out, "we'll be in a shadow. We'll be in a closet."
"We're still in broad daylight!" she insisted. "Out in public!"
"Tell you what—I'll only let you touch me," he said as he opened the closet door: there was barely room for the two of them in there. A metal rack filled up the entire back of the closet and a large yellow bucket and a mop took up an entire corner of the spot.
"I dunno, Cliff," she admitted with a shrug and a little twirl of the tulip; and she thought about what she had told Joey before with her wishing to draw him.
"I just wanna be closer to you," he confessed in a near whisper. "I don't wanna be like—weird or anything."
"Oh, no, it's just—it's not very romantic."
"We can make it romantic," he pointed out. He reached for the tulip in her hands and he nestled it on the shelf of the rack, to which she chuckled at that.
"What do you have in your purse?"
"Uh, let's see..." She opened her purse and she spotted that photo of Frank and Charlie as children nestled on the side, right next to her wallet. Next to that was a little packet of spearmint gum.
"Here's something to make it smell better," she said as she handed him the pack. He took a whiff and nodded.
"Oh, yeah." He set it on the shelf and then returned to her. She looked past him and spotted a tall box that held an air conditioner in it at one point. He took his seat there and she squeezed in after him.
"Tight fit," he said as she shut the door behind her: a small crack in between the door and the frame gave her just enough light to see what she was doing.
"Come closer to me," she whispered.
"Only if you come closer to me," he begged her. He kept himself seated on the box and she leaned in to him.
"So, do you want it below the belt, or—"
"Yeah, please," he whispered to her as he opened his legs for her. "Nothin' fancy. But something to start us off with."
In the dim light, she unfastened the button on his jeans and she reached down the front. The size of it. Even when inside of his jeans, her finger tips caressed over his silken skin. It felt like a big serpent, right inside of his pants.
"Wow," she breathed.
"Yeah—I guess you could say I'm hung," he said to her in a near whisper. "It does feel good, I'll say that. Those little fingers on me."
"How 'bout my thumb?" she asked him as she stroked him with the pad of her thumb. He gasped at the feeling.
"Yes," his voice broke. "God, Sam—you're a natural. With one hand no less!"
She knelt closer to him: the smell of the mint gum was faint and distant in comparison to the smell of his denim and his soft cologne, but she wanted to do it.
"I think I could do it with two," she declared as she kept her voice down. In the dim light, she could see his Cheshire cat grin and the twinkle in his eye.
"If we were—in a bigger room," he grunted, "like—your place."
"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't ya?" she teased him.
"I could give you sump'n to return the favor, too," he retorted. He bowed his head and shuffled his feet at the feeling of her thumb and her two fingers on him. He then gaped at her.
"You okay?" she asked him, and he let out a soft groan.
"That's the spot," he declared. "That's—the spot—and the best feeling."
Sam was quick to take her hand out and he giggled at her.
"What?" she asked him with a smile on her face.
"I'm gonna have to change my panties now," he said, and he couldn't resist the laughter.
"Your big boy panties," she teased him. She stood to her feet and picked the gum and the tulip from the shelf. She put the gum back into her purse and she reached for Cliff's hand. He stood to his feet and adjusted the brim of his hat. Her breasts brushed against his stomach and he even had to bow his head from the ceiling.
"How do we get outta here?" he asked her as he held onto the brim of his hat with two fingers.
"You go first," she told him.
"Oh, no, ladies first," he insisted. She let out a sigh, rolled her eyes, and then giggled at him. She opened the closet door with her free hand and she stumbled out of there; he followed her and he almost dropped his hat on the clean tile floor. He caught it and put it back onto his head as the door swung closed behind him in one fell swoop. He then crossed his legs.
"Tell you what," he started with a raise of his finger. "I'll run to the men's room and wash up—you go back to L'Amour and wait for me."
"You sure?" she asked him as she twirled the tulip in her fingers: her hand was dry as a bone even though she made him come in his jeans.
"Positive. Go hang out with the gang and I'll catch up with you." Cliff leaned into her neck and gave her a little kiss. The bristle over his lip brushed against her skin such that it tickled, and it brought a giggle out of her. He kept his legs together as he passed her and headed over to the men's room. Sam watched him go and then, once he was out of sight, she fetched up a dreamy sigh. But without another moment's hesitation, she surfaced from the subway and made her way back to the club.
Aurora, Zelda, and Marla showed up within the next hour, but she had no idea where Dave had disappeared to; Marla had put on a knit cap over her hair to hide it all away from onlookers. She also noticed that Cliff still hadn't showed up by the time the audience began gathering in front of them. A much bigger crowd that time.
The four girls stood at the back of the room and they watched Alex solo once again on that song "Alone in the Dark". He stood still and kept the guitar pressed to his little tummy the whole entire time. Marla and Aurora both had stars in their eyes at the sight of him, but even though Sam kept her eye on him, she couldn't stop thinking about Cliff and Dave. Neither of them had arrived at the club still; she couldn't stop thinking about James and Lars, and the fact Scott and Frank felt like a pair of lynchpins. So much had happened without her looking, and there was so much that she still needed to know.
Meanwhile, Zetro did more straight up singing rather than that usual high shriek that caught everyone's attention. Legacy were tight and powerful on that second night, and Sam had hope for them. When Anthrax showed to the stage, she recalled what Charlie had said about Legacy and that there was another band called that. She wondered how that would work out as Joey stood in the middle of the stage with his head bowed over the head of the microphone.
His voice was more broken and he had a difficult time catching his breath. Indeed, they cut their set short by two songs because he couldn't hardly keep up with the other four guys behind him. Such a big crowd in front of them and yet he couldn't do it; everyone filed out of there as disappointed as Sam expected them to be.
"He didn't look too good," she overheard Zelda say to Marla, who shook her head.
"I'm gonna go see if he's okay," Sam told them as she adjusted the strap of her purse and tucked Cliff's tulip into her purse for safe keeping. "I did ride with him down here after all."
"Okay—I will, too," Marla said as she tugged down on her cap, and Sam strode across the floor to the backstage area.
"You wanna get something to eat?" Aurora offered Zelda as they fell out of earshot. Sam stepped over the cables on the floor and she leaned into the backstage area. No one there, and in fact the back door shut as soon as she knew what was happening there. She doubled back to the side doors and made her way to the street.
If nothing, she could take the subway back up to the Bronx, but it was getting late, and she knew she wouldn't return home until well into the night. The very thought of it exhausted her. She turned her head and she recognized Frank's car at the corner: he had rolled down the windows to take in the warm nigth air.
"Frankie!" she shouted as she sprinted down the sidewalk. In the darkness, she saw his silhouette turn in her direction. "Frankie!" He hesitated there to await her.
"Hey!" he called out to her. He leaned over the passenger seat: the orange glow of the street light washed over his handsome face.
"Do you know where Joey went?" she asked him, out of breath.
"Charlie and Marla just took him home," he replied. "Poor guy had such a bad night."
"Was he okay?"
"You know, he barfed this morning when you guys got here and then he knocked back another few drinks."
"Oh, Jesus Christ," she groaned and she bowed her head. She lifted her gaze and stared on at Frank in the dim light. "Well—I don't really feel like taking the subway, though." She adjusted the strap of her purse yet again.
"That's right, you and him rode together here," he recalled.
"Did they take his car?"
"Yeah, they did."
"It's getting late, too. You could do it but it kinda sucks, though—it's been a long day, too. Yeah, hop on in. Besides, you and I live in the same building."
Sam slid into the passenger seat next to him, and she placed her purse on the floor next to her ankle. They made their way up the street and caught the light green.
"It wasn't just Joey who had a bad night, though," he started. "I don't know what was going on with the amps tonight."
"You guys sounded good, though," she pointed out. "Legacy sounded extra strong tonight."
"Zetro's last night, you know. He told me he wanted to sing tonight, too, which was real cool, if you ask me! But I felt so naked up there. Myself, Scott, and also Danny, plus Eric, Alex, and Greg. Charlie couldn't hardly get the mic on his snare to work. Louie just went 'fuck it' and took it off, but it seemed to work for him, though. We all struggled tonight."
They fell silent for a long time, that is until they reached the freeway entrance.
"So Cliff kissed you," he muttered over the roar of the tires on the pavement. Sam gaped at him.
"Wait a minute, how'd you find that out?" she demanded.
"The last time I saw him, he had this twinkle in his eye and he smelled like fresh coffee," he explained. "So I asked him about it."
Sam shook her head. And she had been keeping it a secret this whole entire time!
She squinted her eyes and gaped at him. Frank looked back at her with a concerned look on his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
"He told me to keep it a secret," she explained. "I—I don't even know what to say right now."
"Wow, what the fuck," he muttered as he returned his attention to the parkway in front of them. "You should bring it up to him once you get home."
"Yeah, I'll talk to him tonight," she vowed to him.
"You should," Frank replied, "Cliff is my friend but he needs to know that he went behind your back like that. I wouldn't really be okay with that if it were me. Heck, I'm not okay with it not being me. I'll give you the number to Jon and Marsha's house, too. They're staying with them."
Within thirty minutes, they returned home to their building. Frank bode her good night with a hug and then she made her way back upstairs to her room. She set her purse down on the couch and she took out the tulip. Cliff never showed again and the secret was out. She didn't want to get mad at him, but she couldn't help it.
She darted into the kitchen and set the tulip down on the counter so she could dial the Zazulas' number. It was almost midnight and thus, as she brought the phone to her ear, she wondered if she would wake them.
"Hello?" She recognized his voice.
"Hi, Cliff," she said in a flat tone.
"Oh, hi." He hesitated.
"You told Frankie you kissed me?" she blurted out. Silence on his end.
"Uh—"
"Why'd you do that, Cliff?" she demanded and she folded a single arm across her chest.
"Because," he started.
"Because why?" She could feel her face growing hot from frustration.
"Because I needed to tell someone," he said. "I needed to tell someone close to me. I was gonna lose it otherwise if I didn't tell someone about it."
"But you told me to keep it under the wraps, though!" she pointed out.
"Well, yeah." He never raised his voice. "But I didn't know how I was gonna react to it, though. Believe me, Sam, if I would've, I could've. Both my hands on my brother's ashes." Sam fumed as she kept the phone up to her ear. He also left her hanging in the club as well. The second night in a row, and he failed to be her date to the shows.
"I'm also sorry for not showing up, either," he added when she didn't reply to him. "Dave needed a ride back to where he was staying and I needed to change my underwear, too. We had to make some calls and I finally got back to the Zazulas' house for a change, and at that point, the shows had already started..." As he spoke, she eased the expression on her face. Even though she kept her arm crossed over her chest, there was no way she could stay mad at him for this.
"I'm just... I'm sorry, Sam," he pleaded. "I'm sorry for everything. You can break up with me and tell me to go fuck myself, I'd understand."
She swallowed, and she kept her gaze fixated on the tulip on the counter next to her. There was also that bouquet on the coffee table in the next room. Those soft smooth bright yellow petals that beckoned a smile out of her.
"No, no," she told him in a low voice. "It's okay. Things just—happened."
"That's just all there is to it," he replied in a near whisper. "Things just happen, and sometimes you need to tell people about it. Otherwise you get what's going on between James, Lars, and Dave at the moment."
"You were really cute when we got to the closet, too," she said, and she couldn't resist the smile on her face. "Dolling that little space up."
"Well, you wanted it to be romantic," he pointed out with a little chuckle to his voice.
"True. But it was just—it was cute to me." She snickered at the thought.
"When do Stormtroopers go on tour?"
"About a month. It's only gonna be a handful of dates, but Frankie told me it'll be my first taste of the road life. And it's money for me and Marla especially."
"Take all your clothes," he suggested. "All of them. You never know what the place will be like. Also, be prepared to not sleep, either."
"I'll keep that in mind," she vowed, and she yawned.
"It's late," he stated.
"Yeah, it is."
"Enjoy your sleep while you can, too. Just every minute of it. So—don't stay up another minute later. Also, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
There was silence on his end.
"I love you," he whispered, and she never moved. Her chest ached a bit: it took her a minute to realize she had been holding her breath that whole time.
"You there?" he asked her.
"Yeah."
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
He snickered at her.
"I love you, too," she whispered back at him as she picked up the tulip from the counter. She brought those yellow petals up to her nose: still smelled fresh.
"You have a good night," he told her in a soft voice.
"Kiss the Zazulas good night for me," she said, and that brought a laugh out of him, and they hung up at the same time.