These Things I’ve Done

A ratty tan couch sits along the opposite wall from the instruments, taking up the remainder of the space. On it is a skinny guy with messy reddish hair and an even skinnier brunette in skin-tight jeans. The guy is sprawled across the girl’s lap, eyes drooping like he’s high or suffering from an acute hangover or both, while she plays with her phone.

Ethan rises from his crouch to introduce me. “Corey and Julia,” he says, motioning to the couple, who both glance up with the slightest show of interest. “Guys, this is Dara.”

Corey smiles up at me. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” I say, and then exchange a small nod with Julia. She looks bored, but I get the feeling she typically looks that way.

“Where the fuck did Kel go?” Hunter asks from behind the drums.

Ethan digs into the front pocket of his jeans and brings out a white guitar pick. “Inside to get a drink of water.”

“That was twenty minutes ago.”

“He’s probably in there seducing your mom,” Corey says as he lifts himself off Julia’s lap. When he’s fully upright, Hunter throws an empty water bottle at him. Corey catches it, snickering.

Noelle has claimed the spot next to Julia on the couch, so I sink down on her other side. The moment I’m somewhat comfortable, Hunter pounds out a practice beat that makes me want to cover my ears. Drums are deafening in this small space.

“Do the neighbors ever complain?” I ask Noelle.

“Nope. Hunter’s dad built this thing from the ground up. It’s almost completely soundproof.”

“He built it just for Hunter?”

Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners. “It was either that or let him play in the house, and his mom says it’s not worth the migraines.”

The door opens and sunlight pours in, making us all squint. All I can see is the outline of Kel as he steps inside and heads directly for the red guitar resting on a stand near the drums. He picks it up, attaches a strap, and adjusts it across his chest in one fluid movement. It’s not until he steps up to the mic stand that he finally notices me. His face splits into a grin.

Clearly, even knowing my role in Ethan’s sister’s death isn’t going to deter him from trying to charm me.

The guys confer for a minute, then launch into a song that starts off with a lot of heavy bass. The rhythm is fast and frenetic and so piercingly loud, I can feel the vibration in my bones. After several beats, Kel leans into the mic. His voice is exactly like I imagined—rough and gravelly, yet melodic.

In my peripheral, I see Noelle’s head bobbing slightly to the beat. Julia is still on her phone, oblivious to her surroundings. I’m not oblivious. This isn’t my type of music, but there’s something about it, something pure and unrestrained. The sheer volume and power of it occupies every sense, every thought, until there’s nothing left but sound.

My gaze locks on Ethan. I almost forgot how effortlessly good he is, how connected he seems to whatever music he’s playing. This is one thing that hasn’t changed, even if the boy and the instrument are different. I watch the muscles in his forearms contract as his fingers fly across the strings. I see the raw joy infuse his face as he loses himself in the band’s energy. And I remember again what he told me that day in his car: Music saved me.

I think I get it now.

An hour and five or six songs later, it’s time for a break. Hunter and Noelle step outside for a smoke, and Corey and Julia head to the house to pee. Now it’s just me and Ethan and Kel, who’s lounging on the couch and strumming his unplugged guitar.

“So give me your honest opinion,” Ethan says, unhooking the strap from the end of his guitar and sliding it off. “Do we suck or what?”

“I don’t think so.” I step away from the Metallica poster I’ve been examining and turn to face him. “But I’m not exactly an expert on rock and metal. Pop is more my thing.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He makes an expression of mock disgust, and I can tell he’s thinking of all the times Aubrey and I tortured him with repeated blastings of whatever hit song we happened to be obsessed with at the moment.

“You guys sound good,” I tell him. “Um, what do your parents think about all this?”

“About what? Me trading in my acoustic for an electric or me joining a band?”

“Either.”

A huge smile lights up his face. “They hate it.”

He looks so thoroughly thrilled when he says it, I can’t help but laugh. Our eyes meet and he starts laughing too, and that’s when I feel it. A tiny flutter of . . . something.

“You okay?” he asks when my laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

Luckily, the door swings open and saves me from having to answer. Ethan and I turn toward the sound, blinking against the sudden glare of daylight. At first I think it’s Noelle returning, but as my vision adjusts I realize it’s a different girl, one I haven’t met. She’s pretty, with shoulder-length dark blond hair and full, pouty lips. She’s wearing a denim jacket over a cute floral dress—even though we’re way past summer weather—and her legs are long and shapely.

“Hey, Lacey,” Kel says without looking up from his guitar. “Nice of you to join us.”

I assume she’s with him, one of the many girls he probably invites here to swoon over him while he sings, so naturally I’m surprised when she walks up to Ethan and wraps her arms around his neck.

“Sorry I’m so late, babe,” she says, and then proceeds to stick her tongue down his throat.

I stare. I can’t help it. The way he’s kissing this girl . . . Jesus. Not that I have much experience on this matter, but going by the way her fingers tighten on the back of his T-shirt, it seems his talents might stretch beyond guitar-playing.

Ethan detaches himself from the girl and looks at me as if I haven’t been standing two feet away from him for the past several minutes. Maybe some brain matter leaked out through his mouth along with all that saliva.

“Um, this is Lacey,” he tells me with a trace of embarrassment. “Lacey . . . Dara.”

“Hey,” she says, dabbing her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. If she has any clue who I am, it doesn’t show on her face. Maybe she thinks I’m one of Kel’s groupies.

“Hi,” I say.

An awkward silence ensues, during which we all look anywhere but at each other. My phone chimes in my pocket, and I almost break a finger diving for it. It’s a text from Mom, asking if I want to invite my new friend over for dinner. Normally I’d be annoyed at the intrusion, but at the moment I’ve never been more grateful for my mother’s hovering in my life.

“I have to go,” I announce to no one in particular.

“Already?” Ethan says. His arm hasn’t moved from Lacey’s tiny waist.

I nod and start toward the door. “Thanks for having me.”

Kel shoots me a knowing grin and I want to kick myself for phrasing it that way. Instead, I lift my hand in a vague wave and book it out of there fast.

Outside, I run into Noelle and Hunter on their way back to the shed.

“Leaving already?” Noelle asks.

“My mom needs me at home,” I tell her. It’s easier to lie than explain to her what just happened inside. I don’t even know for sure.

Noelle nods like she understands even though she doesn’t, not really. I say good-bye to them and continue to the street, already missing the way that loud, rumbling music took over my body, pushing everything else away.





fourteen



Sophomore Year

Rebecca Phillips's books