Chapter 29
My life has become a plodding beat. There are no exciting cymbal strikes or booms from the bass drum. The even plod is rarely broken except by small bursts like a high hat thump with my mother’s slow changes.
But she is changing.
She took the long talk we had after I returned home from the skate park to heart. I firmly and honestly told her if she didn’t start getting herself together, that I’d be having a serious conversation with my father who’s been hinting at custody since her overdose. She’s been reading to Jamie at night as soon as she gets home. She had lunch with Jamie twice at school. She even made another appointment—I plan to drive her to that one—with a counselor. And she actually helped me cook on Thanksgiving. However, she did lie in bed for most of the day yesterday after seeing my father on Saturday—the night he comes over to watch my sister. I’m trying to be patient. I can’t expect her to change overnight so I’ve become her persistent shadow.
College is the only time I’m away from home. Chloe has been visiting more, but I still feel lost without the band and music and drumming, even more so without Romeo. I try not to dwell on him. If I did, I’d become like my mother. Lost in depression. So eating lunch with motor mouth Kendra is actually wonderfully, mindlessly numb.
Kendra saws her pizza into tiny bites. “So is it true you guys canceled playing at the Creed this weekend?”
“I have no idea.” I shrug, but the numbness inside of me is hit with a twinge of guilt.
She gives me an odd look.
“I quit last week.” Another twinge of guilt hits me.
“Why would you quit?” Kendra asks, smacking down her plastic knife. “I’d practically give my left tit to be near Romeo. Plus there’s you and the whole drumming thing.”
I can’t help a smirk. “Your left tit?”
Kendra grins and flips back her blonde curls. “I said practically. So what gives?”
“I needed to be home more.” I twist my milk back and forth between my hands. “My parents are going through a divorce.”
“Ah, divorce sucks. At least my step dad is loaded.” She stabs a square of pizza. “You’re a far better woman that me. Not sure I’d be able to give up something like seeing the sex god regularly for my family. But I guess it was about playing with you.”
She’d be shocked if she knew what I’d actually given up. And probably super pissed I didn’t tell her about Romeo and me. Not that it is any of her business.
Kendra taps the side of her plate with her fork. “Huh, on second thought, maybe I could give up visions of Romeo for my mother. Mothers are the best, you know?”
I nod slowly as a revelation hits me upside my dense head. I’ve been immaturely looking at the world in black and white. Kendra’s a selfish beauty queen. Romeo’s a player. I’m a band geek. Justin’s a manwhore. Except for the last one—Justin is a manwhore—I’ve been proved wrong on all counts. People are layers of personality and their pasts, but I’ve been two-toned blind and judgmental. Damn, I need to grow up.
Kendra’s pink lips pensively turn down. “So not having a drummer, they must have canceled.” The look on my face has her adding, “Hey, you had to do what you had to do right?”
“Yeah,” I say, but that twinge of guilt grows.
Kendra starts talking about some guy from her Spanish class. I listen with half an ear as my guilt settles deeper. By the time, I’m walking to Calculus, I feel horrible. Romeo puts so much time into getting gigs. It’s not like we live in some huge metropolis. Perhaps I should have given the band two weeks or something to find a new drummer. I just lost it after my mother’s drinking binge. Even in the throes of depression, her behavior was extremely out of behavior.
Last week I purposely came late to Calculus. I can almost keep him from my mind, but seeing Romeo brings on a wistfulness that twists my gut and makes me question my decision. He nodded at me when I came in then made small talk at break. Nothing serious just a generic hello and how are you stuff. My response was just as generic. After we shared such a deep connection, our impersonal exchange tore at my insides, which was a selfish reaction. I’m the one who demanded the distance between us.
Today I’m early as usual. I wait with my books and calculator in front of me. The guilt eating at me goes into overdrive when Romeo strolls in the room.
He’s dressed in a dark brown hoodie that matches his eyes. My gaze devours him. His doesn’t glance my way. He sits and tugs his books from his bag. Flips through his notebook while my pencil taps out a nervous beat. The beat, not me, catches his attention. He stares at my tapping eraser before his eyes shift to mine in a look that asks, please stop that racket. But other than that his gaze is empty.
“Sorry,” I say, cringing and setting down my pencil.
“Doing okay?” he asks and opens his textbook.
“I’m alright.” I resist the urge to tap my fingers. “Um…I heard you canceled your gig this weekend.”
He keeps turning pages but says, “Yup.”
“I feel really bad about that. I could…well I’d be willing to play just this weekend if you need me.”
He slowly turns to me. His dark eyes look empty. “Thanks, but it can’t be uncanceled. Don’t worry though. It’s like I told you, I’m aware the band doesn’t trump people’s lives.”
“Ah, okay. Have you found a drummer?”
He nods then turns back to pushing textbook pages.
I can’t stop myself from asking, “Who?”
“The guy I wanted from the start.”
Pain rips through me. I try to blink away the sting of his words. I’m not sure if he purposely wanted to hurt me. I can’t read him when he’s hunched over a textbook, but it pretty much sounded like he was saying hiring me was a mistake.
Maybe it was.
But I can read between the lines. The bigger mistake was us.
I push my chair back. It clanks against the table behind us when I stand. I ignore it and the students looking at me. The professor walks in as I race out. Inside a bathroom stall, I breathe deeply and fight the well of tears threatening to break loose. I’ve already done this. I do not want to do it here. I will not do it here.
I’m almost calm when I hear the creak of the door.
“Riley?” Romeo’s deep voice asks.
Shit.
“Are you alright?”
Fighting a new sob, I resist answering. His worrisome tone hurts almost as much as his words. The pain of our breakup is somehow caught in my throat.
“I know you’re in here.” His voice echoes in the empty bathroom. “I saw you come in.”
I breathe through my nose.
“I’m coming in if you don’t answer.”
“Just go away, Romeo,” I say from behind clenched teeth.
“I didn’t mean what you think.”
“Just go away!”
“Riley…”
“Please!”
I hear a sigh then the door shutting. I let out a whoosh of air and bang my head against the metal wall before sliding the stall lock open. I’m leaning against the sink, clenching the counter, and trying to compose myself when another girl comes in. Her glance at me is dismissive. She goes to the mirror and adjusts her hair before opening a tube of lip gloss. I wash my hands for something to do then take a deep breath and yank open the door.
I almost run into Romeo coming out of the restroom.
“Whoa,” he says, catching me by the shoulders.
“Let me go.”
“Just give me a minute.” His hands tighten on my shoulders as the stares down at me. His dark eyes are full of remorse. “You were the right choice and I’ll always be grateful I had the opportunity to play with someone so talented.” He takes a deep breath. “And I wouldn’t trade any hurt for the time we had together. I—”
“Don’t,” I say, shaking my head as I pull out of his grasp. “Don’t say anything else.”
His arms drop.
The girl from the bathroom comes out. “Oh good, you’re still here,” she says to Romeo.
I spin around and head back to Calculus. Romeo mutters something. The girl’s high-pitched laughter rings down the hallway. I shudder before I open the door. Only three more classes and then I’ll be free from this agony.