“Good luck, fatty,” I respond playfully.
Jase sits opposite me and starts, “So, I want you to come out with Mark and I Saturday night.”
“Jase,” I say as I slowly shake my head. I don’t go out. I never go out.
“It’ll be low key, promise. Spines is closing early to have a private concert, and I was able to snag three tickets for us.”
“You want me to go to a concert?”
“Candace, seriously? It’s at a book and music store. It’s a private show, but forget about that. You won’t turn me down when I tell you who’s playing,” he says as his smile grows. He reaches in his back pants pocket and pulls out a ticket. He hands me the solid black ticket with two white X’s on it.
“Are you serious?” I ask as a snatch the ticket from him. “How did you get these?”
“A friend of Mark’s,” he says.
“Who?” Mark asks.
“Ryan. I ran into him at the gym earlier today. We got to talking about music, and he mentioned the show. When I told him my best friend is a huge fan of The xx, he gave me a few extra tickets that he wasn’t using.”
Looking at Jase, I ask, “Who’s Ryan?”
Mark answers for him and says, “He owns the bar that my band has been playing at.”
Holding the ticket, I really want to go, but I am nervous. I sit there quietly, staring into the bright fire, when Jase reaches over and takes ahold of my hand.
“I really want you to go. You’ll be with the two of us. Nothing will happen,” he assures me.
Looking at him, I let out a sigh and say, “I don’t know. It makes me nervous.”
“I know,” Jase whispers. “But nothing will happen. You have to start trying.”
I look back at Mark, and he shrugs his shoulders and nods in agreement. Letting out a slow breath, I turn back to face Jase. “Okay,” I say with a shaky voice. I need to do this. I know I do. I’m just scared. Paranoid really. I tell myself everyday that I need to function, so I will push down the fear that is already rising inside of me, and try.
Sitting back, Jase quietly says, “Thank you.”
?????
I stare at the black and white ticket that lies on my desk. Every time I walk past it, I try and reassure myself that I can do this. Jase and Mark will be picking me up shortly. I walk into my closet to find something to wear. Looking around, I decide on simplicity: jeans, a long sleeved white V-neck shirt, brown knee-high boots, and my brown crew-collar leather jacket.
I hear the guys when they come inside the house and shout, “I’ll be out in a sec. I’m just finishing straightening my hair.” Taking a huge gulp of the wine I’ve been sipping, I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes look a little glassy, but I’m not surprised. I’ve been drinking since I got home from work a little bit ago, hoping the alcohol will help calm my nerves.
I turn off my hair straightener, grab my cell, and slide it in my pocket along with my ID and credit card, and I walk through the house to the living room where the guys are.
“You look great,” Jase says with a smile. “You ready?”
I nod my head, grab my leopard scarf that is lying on the couch, and tie it around my neck before walking outside. I don’t say much on the drive; I just listen to Mark and Jase talk about school and football. When we arrive at Spines, a trendy book and music store, I begin to panic when I see all the cars.
“I don’t know about this,” I say quietly.
The guys get out of the car and Mark opens my door. Holding his hand out for me, he says, “No worries, okay?”
I slide my hand into his and step out of the car.
When we walk inside, there is a gathering of around one hundred or so people. There is a bar set off to the side that is serving drinks with tables and chairs scattered about. The lights are set low and there are candles everywhere. I stay with Mark, still holding his hand tightly, as Jase goes to the bar to get us drinks.
Mark and I browse through the section of vinyl records. Flipping through them and admiring the artwork on the old cardboard cases, I am starting to feel a little more at ease. Jase finds us and hands Mark and I each a bottle of beer.
“Come on, they’re about to start playing,” Jase says. We walk over, and decide to stand next to another group of people by a low shelf of books. I set my beer down and lean my elbows on the bookcase as Jase and Mark stand on either side of me. I watch as the band takes the small stage that has been set up for them and starts getting their equipment ready. I have loved The xx for years but have never seen them live before.
The strum of a guitar fills the dark room as they ease into their song ‘Infinity.’ Listening to the slow soothing sounds, I lean into Jase—a non-verbal thank you. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me in closer, and I know exactly what he is telling me with his actions.