Luke

Chapter 7

Band practice always sucked. They were long and unproductive and Zach and Ryan usually just talked about girls and money. I strummed some Nirvana bass tabs while off the amp as they spoke to each other.

"We need to write another song," Zach retorted, taking a sip of his beer. 

"Another song? We didn't even write one yet," Ryan argued.

"Yes we have, you liar," Zach chimed back. "That one song about the thing...with the thing...."

"You're an idiot."

I finished the song, the low hum of my lowest string echoing through the basement. They stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you have anything?" Ryan asked. "In that little diary of yours?"

"It's not a diary, you fucker." I sat up, Brielle letting go of my arm as I grabbed my journal from my bag. 

Zach came over, dropping next to me on the couch and putting his arm around my neck, some of his beer spilling onto me. 

"What'd you got there, mate? Any lovey-dovey songs?" He pinched my cheek and I slapped him away.

"Don't do that." I opened up the journal, turning to some song lyrics and ideas I wrote down, handing the papers to Zach. "They're shit anyway."

He skimmed them, raising the papers into the air. "These are fabulous, mate! Absolutely golden!"

"I wanna read!" Brielle reached up, jerking my journal out of Zach's hands and reading them to herself. 

"These are so great, honey!" she beamed, kissing my cheek and throwing the journal to Ryan, sitting on the unused drum chair. "Give 'em a read, Ry."

Ryan picked up the journal off the floor, eyes jumping all around the page. "You have natural talent, mate," Ryan chimed, looking up at me. "We should start on these."

"They suck. Can I have my journal back now?"

Ryan tossed it to me and I caught it, quickly closing it and putting it back in my bag. I hated it when people touched my journal, let alone throw it across the room. 

"Oh, c'mon. They're great baby," Brielle purred, resting her head on my shoulder. 

"Shouldn't we be actually playing?" I asked, now annoyed with the unproductivity. 

"Luke's right." Ryan stood up quickly from his chair, almost like he was trying to embody a superhero. "We have a gig on Wednesday and the show must go on!" 

Zach stood up quickly with the same energy, raising his cup to the air. "I agree, my young man! To the music!"

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled to myself, standing up and walking over to the group, plugging in my bass and hearing a combination of notes humming together in unison. Zach sat behind the drums, hitting the snare a couple times and the bass drum after. Zach plucked his guitar strings for tuning. 

"What song first?" Ryan asked, grabbing a pick on top of an amp. 

"How 'bout that one song. You know...with the thing...."

Ryan looked over at Zach, narrowing his eyes. "Oh yes. I know exactly what you're talking about. That one song with the one thing. Absolutely! You bloody idiot!"

"I know you love me," Zach smiled. 

Ryan shook his head and laughed. "Love you too, buddy. How 'bout Hunter?"

"Okie dokie!" Zach answered, rapping his drum sticks on the snare again. 

I moaned and looked over to Brielle who was now smoking a cigarette on the couch. She smiled to me, blowing me a kiss. I heard the pounding of drums signaling the start of the song, followed by the guitar and then by me. 

We went through the set list, playing each song we would perform on Wednesday's gig. I zoned out for most of the time, just playing along with the music; my fingers memorized the songs. 

Band practice ended around 7:30 and Brielle drove me home. It was raining out, fading out the headlights of passing traffic. Brielle's car swerved side to side due to her tipsy-ness, causing honking horns behind us. I sighed silently, watching the water run down the window. 

Brielle drove down my street finally. I tried to make out the shape of Sam's car in my driveway, but couldn't see it. It looked like he wasn't home right now. I was pretty thrilled about that. I just wanted to go inside, take a nice, hot shower, down some pills and sleep off the rest of the night without him bothering me.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hang out?” Brielle asked after parking in front of my driveway. 

“Yeah, I have stuff to do,” I lied.

“Even just for a little? We barely hang out anymore.”

“We just hung out Friday.”

“But we used to hang out every day. Come on, just for a little? Just a little?” she kept asking as she leaned over into the passenger seat, resting her palm on my leg and starting to initiate a make-out session. I gave in, even though I really didn’t want to. I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, this is what “hanging out” is to her; making out and having sex. If anything’s hanging out it’s my dick.

So we made out for about 5 minutes. When she moved down to my neck I knew it would be a good time to break.

“Brielle, I have stuff I need to do," I breathed, looking up towards the car roof. 

“But we’re hanging out. Don’t you want to hang out with me?” she asked as she continued to play with my shirt and suck the shit out of my neck.

“I do,” I lied, again, “but I really have to get stuff done. We can hang out another time.”

She stopped and pulled away, looking at me and smiling. “You promise we can hang out soon?”

“How about after the gig on Wednesday?” I asked. Shit, why did I say that?

“Sounds great!” she replied, giving me another kiss before sitting back in her seat, bucking her seatbelt. “You go get that stuff done, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow."

“Mhm,” I passively answered as I got out of the car and rounded the front, rain purging down on me. I didn’t look back at her to wave good-bye or whatever shit you’re supposed to do. Once she drove off, I wiped off my mouth and neck with my arm and went inside, the room greeting me with a warmer temperature. I heard the sound of Lilly talking in her bedroom, indicating she was at home. Wonderful. 

I went to my room and flung my bag to the floor, dropping onto my bed and grabbing the pillow, burying my wet hair into it. I just wanted to sleep forever. Let me sleep forever.