before dogs had problems

Chapter 3

Going to that Open Mic Night was one of the pivotal moments in my relationship with Nate.
 Had I not gone, I'm honestly not sure if another opportunity would have ever arisen for us to have become as connected as we eventually became.  It was on that Friday Night, in the auditorium of our nothing Glendale high school, that I can first say now that I am sure I was falling in love with Nate Ruess.  However, at the time, I refused to believe it.

To be completely blunt, he was such a dorky kid, but somehow, he managed to make it look appealing and charismatic.  My earliest assumption of him was that he was popular, and, in a sense, this was true.  While most of our school had no idea who this small, unassuming freshman boy was, anyone who was lucky enough to meet him adored him.  He was popular among his own tight-knit circle of friends, and that was enough for him. 

I showed up to that Open Mic alone, as Cindy or any of my other superficial teenage friends could never have allowed themselves to show up at their high school on a Friday night for anything other than a major football game where boys would be present - so, naturally, the Open Mic Night did not make the cut. 

I remember wearing my Van Morrison t-shirt, and that my hair would not stop frizzing in the late August heat, simply adding to the rebellious-teenager image that I was so desperately chasing after.  I'm sure that my eyeliner was as dark and as thick as the murky Glendale air that evening.

Within the minute that I had walked in the door, I already questioned why I was there.  I immediately considered going home, and silently chastised myself for ever showing up at such a lame function for such an irrelevant boy.  If Nate had not spotted me instantly, I probably would have turned around.

"Becca!"  He hollered at me, his lopsided grin somehow managing to win a smile back from me in return.

Fuck.  I thought.  I was caught.

"You made it!"  He grinned, just as he had jogged over to where I stood.

"Yeah," I pushed my hair behind my ear.  I never did that.  "I guess I did."

"Well, I'm glad."  He grabbed my hand, and, for a moment, I almost jerked it away, as though he had hit me, simply because the gesture was so unexpected. 

"Follow me, I want you to meet some of my friends." Still holding onto my hand, he pulled me towards a group of boys that I was certain I did not want to meet - and I was sure the feeling was mutual.

I tended to terrify boys.  I don't think they knew what to make of me.  When your childhood is as short and as revolting as mine was, you tend to grow up quickly, and you soon realize that you don't have time for the frivolousness and immaturity of young, pubescent boys and careless, naive girls.  You learn to be guarded, and to never allow for cracks within your fortress of coldness and disregard.  Then again, that's rather difficult for a girl of only fourteen, especially when a boy actually isn't terrified of you. 

For me, that boy was Nate, and I was secretly scared of how unfamiliar I was with how he treated me.

His friends were kind enough, but, as I assumed, they all seemed to be equally and silently confused as to why Nate was so interested in a girl as dark as me; from first glance, I'm sure they all saw me as some quiet, borderline goth girl who sat in the back of class and was more interested in pop culture cult followings than the high school drama and sex scene.

Honestly, they were probably right.

As far as the open mic night itself went, I barely remember; after all, that time seems so distant to me that I sometimes wonder if it all really was nothing more than some faded photographs and laughter lines.  I recall sitting on the bleachers, watching the acts one by one, hardly impressed, while Nate and his friends cheered obnoxiously and passionately every time one of their friends or acquaintances gave a half-hearted attempt on stage.  It was slightly sweet, honestly, to watch a group of guys be so eager to support their fellow classmates.  I'll admit, their energy was powerful enough to even draw out a few laughs and claps from me as well.