Nothing Like Us

chapter 1

"This is the worst spaghetti I've ever had..." I complain, pushing my plate away after only a few bites.

"You're just a picky snob." Fredo replies, pulling it over in front of him. He turns the fork in circles, twirling the noodles around it and then shoves it into his mouth.

I sit back and await his reaction, bursting into laughter when he scrunches his face up in disgust.

He drops the fork and swallows hard "Damn, how do they screw up spaghetti?"

"I don't know." I shrug "But they managed. You'd think with as nice as this hotel is they'd have decent room service."

He nods in agreement and then smiles "Hey, remember that time Bobbi made it? I'll never forget her trying to scurry around that tiny ass kitchenette on the bus...she burned the hell out of that garlic bread, bus smelled like smoke for days."

I stand and leave the table without comment.

He realizes what he's said and quickly tries to make it right. Almost no one mentions her, at least not when I'm around "Hey...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

I shake my head "No. It's cool." I surprisingly find myself wanting to talk about her with someone who misses her too, maybe because we're in Columbus Ohio for a show, and I'm fairly sure she's in Pennsylvania...I'm closer to her than I've been since she left "It's been months you know." I point out stupidly because of course he knows.

"Yeah...long time." He agrees tentatively, unsure of what to say to me.

"How is she?" I ask softly.

"How should I know?"

I turn and stare him down "I know you've talked to her. It's fine. I just want to know how she is Fredo."

He remains silent for a moment or two "She's alright. I've only talked to her a few times."

I nod, glad she's doing alright and heartbroken because she's doing okay without me all at once.

"She won't talk to me at all." I confess "I've called and texted and emailed...nothing. She won't respond at all." an idea suddenly springs into my head "She takes your calls right?"

He nods and waits for me to go on "Here," I thrust my hand forward "Give me your cell. If I call from your phone she'll answer."

His face instantly becomes tense and uncomfortable "That's not a good idea Justin."

"Why not?" I snap.

"Well for starters, if you call from my phone she'll know I let you. She won't take my calls then either...you want to lose the last link you have to her? Even if it is second hand?"

He's right and I know it, but my cell begins to vibrate in my pocket before we can discuss it any further. I pull it out and glance over a text from Dustin.

"We gotta leave for the venue in twenty...I'm gonna jump in the shower.

Once I'm alone with the water raining down over me I allow myself...but only for a minute or two, just enough to feel like I might be able to make it through yet another night without her.

I really thought she would come back. I figured she'd be gone for a few days until she had calmed down a little and then I'd be able to make things right. But three months later I'm still waiting...still living in what feels like a nightmare. I'm a fucking walking cliché...I wake up every morning thinking 'Today's the day she's coming back...she'll knock on my hotel room door and I'll be able to fix this.' Every time I dial her number I'm convinced that she'll finally answer. What hurts the most though is when I see her...or rather, when I think I see her. It happens all the time...and it's stupid too, I spot her in the most ridiculous places. I actually called out to a waitress in a restaurant a couple of weeks ago. Her back had been turned to me, her dark brown hair spilling over her shoulder's just like B's and my heart had flooded with relief as I called her name. The conversation at the table had come to a grinding halt and I'd avoided eye contact with everyone for the rest of the evening.