Alternative

January 4, 2009 at 4:40PM

Alex hosted a jam session before the end of winter break. He invited us all in an email.

I pull up to the curb by Alex's house, caking the tires in early January slush. Beth approaches the car as I turn off the ignition. She waves, making an effort to connect, to push aside how distant I've been lately.

When I get out of the car, I'm awkward, missing her cue to move in for a kiss.

"How's it going?" I mumble.

"It's going..."

I move around to the trunk to get my gear.

"Do you want any help with that?" she calls out.

"No, I'm good."

I don't know why I'm acting this way, but I've created this gulf between us. I can see the recognition in her eyes: knowing that something has shifted in me, that I'm pulling away for some reason. This is the last thing she deserves right now, but the pull feels stronger than me; like I couldn't overcome it no matter how hard I tried.

As we walk into the house, I think about how much of a liar I am. How Beth, who is good and kind, had essentially been duped into believing that I'm a decent person. I guess I believed it for a little while, too.

I knock on Alex's front door, avoiding eye contact with Beth. She turns to me and brushes her mitten across my jacket.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

I turn to her and before I can answer, Alex swings open the front door and lets us in.

Alex's mom, Ruth, yells from the kitchen, "Hello! Can I get you two anything? Cup of tea, some warm milk maybe? What would tickle your fancy?"

Alex looks irritated and calls back, "Mom, they're my guests! I can help them; you don't have to do anything."

"Nonsense," she replies. "I want them to feel at home here. I'm happy to play host!"

Alex resigns and turns to us.

"Do you guys want tea or something?"

We both smile politely, accept tea, then lug our stuff down to the basement.

After a few minutes of sipping our tea in silence, Alex mentions that Bryce couldn't make it and isn't going to be around to do much rehearsing anymore.

I don't say anything, but it immediately feels like the end of the band. We need a bassist and I have a hunch that none of us are going to have the energy to go out and find a new one, especially given the circumstances, what's happened over the past couple months. Maybe this should have bummed me out, but it didn't really mean anything to me.

"What do you guys want to play?" Alex asks. "Want to just go through the set we did at the school concert?"

Beth looks over at me. I don't meet her eyes, and she turns away.

"They won't sound good without bass," she says. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Sure," Alex responds. "Just up the stairs, on the left."

"Thanks," she says.

I've soured her mood.

"Dude, sorry about my mom," Alex says.

"What?"

"She's just so extra, you know. I keep telling her to chill out."

"She seemed fine to me." She's a little nutty for sure, but she clearly cares about Alex more than anything. He's lucky. He has no idea.