Franco's taking off his jacket when he says, "You should've come with us tonight, scrote. I met a wild little strawberry blond from Northern England named Gemma. She's got a penchant for leopard print, You Me At Six, and gin. She's perfect. Got her number. A good time was had by all."
A good time was had by all. Me included.
I smile at the thought and before I can say anything he's sniffing at the air like a fucking bloodhound. "It smells like homemade cookies in here. Why does it smell like homemade cookies in here?" He looks suspicious. And at the same time he says, "Was Scout here? Where're the cookies?" Jamie says, "Holy shit, what happened to the table? And the wall?"
I cringe when I see that the corner of the table has driven into a hole in the drywall. But I can't hide my smile either. I take a drink of my milk before I answer, "Girl Scout may have stopped by tonight to deliver some cookies."
Franco smiles slyly. "That doesn't explain the property damage."
I raise my glass of milk to all of them and shrug as I leave and walk toward my room. "Let's just say they were really good cookies. Excellent even. Probably the best cookies I've ever had."
Saturday, January 20
(Gus)
When I woke up this morning, I can't say that I felt sad. It was more like something was missing. I could feel it in my chest, a heaviness. Bright Side died a year ago today. I laid there for several minutes thinking about her. Thinking about growing up with her. I replayed twenty years' worth of memories into a condensed slide show in my mind, accompanied by a violin soundtrack. And by the time I was done I was staring at the tattoo on my arm and smiling. I swear I could hear her saying, "Don't cry for me. When you think of me, be happy."
So I didn't cry. I find myself reaching for my phone and calling Keller instead.
When he answers I hear an out-of-tune piano playing in the background. "Hey, Gus." He sounds good. I'm glad, because I didn't know what to expect.
"What up, Papa Banks? It sounds like a piano's being tortured to give up all its secrets."
He laughs and the piano disappears as I hear a door shut. "I'm at Stella's ballet practice. I don't think it's the piano that's being tortured, so much as the audience. Guess that's why earbuds were invented. How are you doing today, man? I was going to call you when we got home. I know it's still early in California."
"It is early. We're in L.A. and I have to be at the studio in an hour. Working on the second album, it's almost done." I'm relieved. It's been a long couple of weeks, but we've worked hard, I've learned a lot, and I'm so damn proud of what we've created. I've grown up a lot over this past year and half since we did this last. And it shows. Everything's matured, from the music, to the lyrics, to us as a band.
"That's great, Gus. Congratulations. I can't wait to hear it. When will it be out?" He sounds genuinely happy for me. It's strange how we've bonded. It grew out of our mutual love for Bright Side, which should have made us jealous enemies, but like everything else about Bright Side, the impossible just worked and worked out for the best. His friendship means a lot to me.
"They're talking late March and setting up a tour to start in early April." And as soon as I say it out loud it becomes real. I'm actually excited. Excited to get out on the road and play in front of an audience again. Excited to do it right this time. Excited to make the most of it and live it instead of just enduring it like I did the last go around.
"Right on. Are you coming to Minnesota again? I'd love to see another show." He would. I can tell.
"Haven't seen the schedule yet, but I'll put a bug in someone's ear. I know people who know people." I'd love to play Grant again, kind of as a memorial to Bright Side.
He laughs again. "I bet you do."
"What have you been up to, dude?" I need to know he's all right.
"Busy. I graduate in June, assuming I don't crash and burn with the teaching internship I start this week." He sounds a little stressed, but stoked, too.
"Internship? That's awesome. High school, right?"
"Yeah. Teaching English here at Grant High School. I lucked out; it actually couldn't be more perfect. The school's about a mile from our place, and Stella's preschool is on the way. It should be ideal."
"The kids will love you."
"I don't know about that, but I'm ready. I'm so ready." He sounds tired.
Bright Side told me all about Keller. I know his mom wanted him to be a lawyer and she was pretty pissed when he changed his major and followed his heart down the teaching road. I still don't think they talk. Good thing he and his dad are close now. "I bet you are. You'll be done with school soon and this will all be behind you. You should bring Stella to San Diego next fall and get a teaching gig here."
"Oh man. Can you imagine Stella living in San Diego with full-time access to the beach? I'd never get her to come inside. We'd probably just pitch a tent on the beach in front of your house and live there. She'd be perfectly content to be homeless as long as she was surrounded by miles of sand and water for building sandcastles."
"Fine by me. I know Ma wouldn't mind either."
"Damn, with the way things are going with our parents lately, we might be stepbrothers by then."
I laugh because he's right. Ma's been spending a lot of weekends with Doc Banks. She's happy. Hell, I've never really seen her date before, so her relationship with him is monumental. "Did we just become best friends?" I yell at him in my best Will Ferrell voice. I'm quoting the movie, Step Brothers. I don't know if he'll get the reference.