“You don’t have a choice,” Dorian says, quickly changing his clothes. “You’re not rotting in this room for all eternity. Get up, get dressed, brush your hair. Brush your damn teeth. You don’t have to wear all black. We’re not a cult.”
I don’t want to go. But I also don’t want to work on this paper, or sit in my room, or exist at all, really. So I guess it doesn’t make a difference. I sigh heavily and push myself out of my chair to rummage for jeans in the pile of dirty clothes by my closet. It takes a minute to find a T-shirt that doesn’t smell like it’s been sitting on the floor for weeks, but Dorian still offers me his body spray anyway. I pull on my Royals hoodie and follow them out.
“Why aren’t you wearing that Amity shirt I got you?” Barbie asks when we hit the stairs.
Dorian clicks his tongue and points a finger at him. “How many times I gotta tell you this, Barbs? Never wear a band’s merch to their show. It makes you look thirsty.”
“Or like a fan.”
“Being there makes you look like a fan.”
From my place a few steps behind them, I watch Barbie turn his head to give Dorian an incredulous look. “I have seen a guy push his way to the stage just so he could flip the band off the whole time. We’re bringing people to this show who are decidedly not fans. I don’t think a shirt is a bad idea.”
“I wore that thing so much it has a hole in the armpit, you really think I didn’t appreciate it?” Dorian says.
Barbie hums like he’s been appeased, and I feel completely empty inside.
Delilah and Jade are waiting in the parking lot. Jade’s wearing faded jeans instead of her usual leggings, and Delilah’s typical dress is paired with a black beanie, denim jacket, knee-high socks, and combat boots. Her hair’s this pastel kind of blue instead of the pink she’s kept it all semester.
“Your hair’s gonna fall out,” I mutter.
Delilah rolls her eyes like she’s already heard this a thousand times. “It’s not like I dye it every damn week.”
“Only because I bring up pictures of fried hair every time you want to,” Jade says. Dorian makes a noise like bacon sizzling in a pan.
Zero and Kovy show up with Cauler, and I shouldn’t be surprised to see him because we’re literally going to see his favorite band, but my heart still hesitates at the sight of him.
I. Should’ve. Kissed him.
He was smiling and laughing walking up with Zero and Kovy, but when he sees me he bites his smile back a little, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, not meeting my eyes. I haven’t talked to him much outside of hockey this week. He’s probably getting so many mixed signals from me he doesn’t know what to think.
I’m an asshole. I know what it’s like, getting those vibes from a guy, taking a risk in giving them back only to be shut down. I know what it’s like and I did it to him anyway.
Because of hockey.
I look back toward the dorm. I shouldn’t go to this concert and ruin his night. This is his music, his thing, and my presence will definitely only complicate things.
“Mickey, hey,” Delilah says. They’re all heading toward Zero’s SUV. “You’re in the way back with us.”
She and Jade climb in before I have time to back out. Dorian and Barbie have already gotten in on the other side, leaving Cauler waiting for me at the door. I look him right in the eye as I walk up to him, like he’ll be able to see the truth in my stare. He doesn’t look away, but his jaw clenches and he swallows hard. I climb into the back and reach to pull the seat up at the same time Cauler does.
We both hesitate, watching each other in this weird gay standoff. Delilah and Jade are talking to each other, and Dorian’s leaning between the front seats to connect his phone to the car’s Bluetooth, and no one is paying any attention to us. So when Cauler finally makes the move, I put my hand right next to his, our skin touching as we pull the seat back.
I feel like I’m in middle school, sharing “incidental” contact with Nova at the dinner table at her parents’ house. Little touches that could be shrugged off as accidents if we were questioned.
Cauler sucks his lips into his mouth as he climbs into the car, not looking at me. But I see the smile fighting to pull through.
* * *
I’VE NEVER BEEN to a concert before. As soon as I step into the venue, nothing feels real anymore. And I don’t mean that in a dissociation kind of way, either. More like a highway rest stop in the middle of the night or a quiet, empty arena with the lights dimmed. It’s dark, humid, and a little claustrophobic.
There’s no music yet, just the heavy, vaguely creepy hum of ambient noise through the speakers as some people crowd the bar and others head for the stage. Zero and Kovy are the only ones old enough to drink, and they ditch us as soon as we make it inside. I rub absently at the black X’s on my hands, but even if I found a way to get them off, the bartenders would probably take one look at me, assume I’m twelve, and kick me out of the show entirely.
“I’ll settle for nothing but right up front,” Dorian says. “Everybody grab on!” He takes Barbie’s hand. Barbie takes Jade’s, Jade takes Delilah’s, and Delilah takes mine. Leaving me with …
I look back at Cauler. Hold out my hand. He looks at it for a second, then at my face. Delilah pulls me and I stagger along with her, hand still out, until Cauler lunges forward to grab on before we get lost in the crowd. Dorian leads us toward the stage, squeezing between people and straining our grips on one another to the point where I’m pretty sure all our fingers are gonna break before we get to where we’re going. I kind of feel like an asshole, forcing my way through a bunch of strangers, but most of them seem unfazed by it.
We line up right against the stage, and Cauler’s hand lingers in mine even as the crowd presses in around us, making me feel smaller than ever. I miss it as soon as he lets go, but he isn’t exactly far away. There’s no barricade between us and the bands. My face is right at waist-level with them.
Dorian said the openers were pretty small names, but the crowd still reacts … violently is the only word I can think to describe it. I am completely out of my element. The frontman’s screaming right in my face, I can feel the bass in my chest like my heart is syncing up with it, I’m being literally crushed against the stage from behind, and I even get kicked in the head by a crowd surfer.
By the time the first band is done, I feel like I’ve been to war.
“What’d you think, Terzo?” Dorian calls from down the line. His voice sounds muffled.
“It’s something,” I call back.
“It’s fun,” he insists.
And he’s right. It’s different. Takes some getting used to. But I guess it beats sitting in my room wishing I were dead.
I even bob my head along with the beat when the next band comes on. It’s nowhere near as aggressive as Cauler beside me with an arm up, punching the air in time with the words he screams along to. I feel kind of bad taking up space at the front from people who could really get into it, but at least I’m short enough for them to see over me. Not the case for anyone stuck behind Barbie.
“Look at Maverick!” Jade shouts. I twist, pushing up on my tiptoes to catch a glimpse of Kovy in the middle of a big gap in the crowd with a bunch of people all shoving one another and swinging their arms around. Kovy’s polo is drenched, his hair slick across his forehead as he throws his body around like he’s on the rink. Zero’s along the edge of the gap, cheering him on.
I smile. Even laugh. And when I face forward again, I find Cauler watching me just like I’d been watching Kovy. He looks away as soon as I notice.
After the second band, with the roadies for the main act doing their sound check, Cauler puts his forearms on the stage and his head down. The crowd’s thinned a little with people going for refills at the bar, so I take the chance to stretch my legs behind me. Delilah and Jade are going back and forth with Dorian and Barbie, but my ears feel stuffed and I can’t hear what they’re saying.
I should swap with Cauler. Let him get closer to them so he can talk, too, instead of acting like a door between them.
I mean, I guess I could talk to him?