Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (32 page)

             
“Let’s head back,” I suggested, standing up.

We
walked back down the beach and resumed our spot on our towels. Bobby dug in the cooler and got two more cold beers.

“Bobby
, you don’t have to hang if you don’t want to, go mingle.”

             
“I really don’t know that many people, I’m good.”

“Thanks
,” I said, glad he was staying.

He gave me a
reassuring pat on my back, his hand was warm. I don’t think Mathew was even aware we had gone. I watched him. He was in his element: the leader of the band, the guy the girls wanted, the party boy. The part of him I loved wasn’t in this mix. Somewhere in there I didn’t fit, didn’t want to fit. I saw Anna put her arm around him and press her chest into his side. He flipped his hair back, something he’d been doing since I met him, and did regularly when he was on stage. The drunker they got, the more they flirted with each other. I was tired of watching.

“Bobby
, I know this is asking a lot, but can you take me home? I’m feeling a bit tortured.”

             
I knew it was a big inconvenience. The pressure in my chest had become a dull ache and a part of me wanted to shock him, that I would leave,
would run
.

             
“If you can’t, I can probably find someone else,” I said.

             
“I can take you. Are you sure that’s what you want?” Bobby asked.

             
“Absolutely sure. I don’t want to wait for the second act.”

             
He searched my eyes and then rolled his head to the side like he wasn’t sure that’s what I should do.

             
“Go tell Mathew I’m taking you home,” he said.

“No, let’s just go
,” I pleaded.

The movement of my head made my bun come
apart and my hair fell down around my shoulders.

“No
. Go, tell him you’re leaving.”

“Shit
, Bobby, why? It seems pretty clear it doesn’t matter,” I said, irritated he was asking me to do this.

             
“Go, tell him,” he said adamantly.

             
I walked reluctantly across the stretch of beach to where he stood talking with Anna and several other people. As I walked up, he looked into my eyes.

             
“Morgan, do you know everyone here?” he offered as if I’d been included all along. “This is Anna, Susan, and Mary.”

“Nice to meet you,
” I said curtly before I turned back to look at him.

             
“Mathew, I’m heading out,” I said, and I saw Anna smile.

             
He looked surprised and glanced around in search of another person.

“With who?”

He spread his legs digging his feet into the sand, and crossed his arms in front of him, a sort of defiant stance. I looked down at his fingers that were wrapped around a beer.

             
“Bobby’s taking me home.”

             
“Really?!”

             
This seemed to surprise him even more.

             
“I’ll see you later,” I said and turned without waiting for a response.

I
headed back toward Bobby locking my eyes on him not wanting to look back. I’d wanted to slap the smile from Anna’s face. She hadn’t won; I just wasn’t willing to play the game. Bobby had already gathered our towels and was heading for the path. I followed him. Mathew caught up with me halfway up the hill.

“What are you doing
, Morgan?”

             
“Bobby’s taking me back over the hill.”

             
I said it like it was perfectly normal, like
why would you ask?

             
“Why?” he asked, baffled.

             
“Mathew,” I said, stopping abruptly and facing him. “I told you before, don’t make me watch. Go have Anna, have anyone you want, don’t expect me to like it.”

             
“Morgan, it’s not like we’re a couple.”

I stared at him in disbelief
. I saw the handsome face, and I wanted to lash out at him. What he said felt like a knife through my heart. I clenched my fists together, trying to control my emotions. Right that moment I hated myself for ever believing there was a remote possibility of an
us
.

             
“You know, you’re absolutely right, so it shouldn’t faze you if I leave,” I said, sounding much calmer than I felt.

             
He grabbed my arm and squeezed.

             
“Let go of me,” I said almost in a growl.

             
He loosened his grasp.

             
“Since our outings to the beach usually end with a good fuck maybe Bobby can oblige today,” I said caustically.

             
“Morgan, don’t screw with me,” he said.

             
He clenched his jaw. I knew he was angry.

“Oh
, no, Mathew,” I said mockingly. “And why sugarcoat it, don’t you mean
fuck with you
? I don’t want to fuck or screw with you. I don’t need to.”

             
I yanked my arm out of his grasp and headed up the hill. He didn’t follow. When I got to the top of the hill, I saw Bobby standing by his car. He got in slowly as he watched me walk toward him. I think he thought Mathew would follow me and protest. He had given Mathew an opportunity to make it right, insisting I tell him I was leaving. The drive back over Highway 17 seemed to take forever. I was angry, and my heart hurt, like a hand had taken hold of it and was squeezing tighter and tighter. I replayed his words in my mind. There were so many things he could have said to stop me, instead he’d chosen words he knew would hurt me. Bobby didn’t talk until we were almost to Gayle’s. I couldn’t expect him to know what to say.

             
“Morgan,” he finally started.

             
His tone was sweet and I could feel the tears push from behind my eyes. I inhaled deeply to stifle them.

             
“Please don’t, Bobby. Don’t make excuses for him. There aren’t any. If I overreacted, so be it. He just keeps piling it on.”

I didn’t want
Bobby to feel guilty over actions that had nothing to do with him. I didn’t want him to feel bad for my feelings.

“I said something really mean to him, about you, out of anger.”

              “About me?” he asked, taken aback.

             
I looked out my window at the landscape passing by so I didn’t have to look at him.

             
“Yeah, I feel embarrassed to even tell you, but I don’t want you to be blindsided by him.”

             
“What could you say about me that he would worry about?” he asked.

             
“I said I might fuck you.”

             
He laughed an uncomfortable laugh. When I turned to look at him he gave me a small smile.

“No way
.”

             
“Yeah, way,” I said, visualizing the exchange on the hill.

             
“So what should I say happened?” he chuckled.

             
I stared at him thinking, and he finally glanced from the road to me.

             
“Tell him it’s the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

             
“Guess that means you’re seriously mad,” he laughed.

             
Bobby got out of the car and hugged me tight to him when he dropped me off. It felt like he was consoling, like he knew how I felt.

             
“Morgan, it's Mathew,” he said at a loss for words.

             
“I know, Bobby. I’ll be okay regardless, don’t worry.”

             
Keeping up with the anger was the only thing that kept me from tears. Gayle was sitting in the family room when I came in the garage door. I didn’t stop when she locked eyes with me. I headed back to her bedroom and calmly shut the door. I threw myself on the bed, burying my face in the pillow. It was some time before the door opened.

             
“The bad Mathew, I presume,” she said.

I didn’t answer, hoping she would go away
, embarrassed by my circumstances. She sat down on the side of the bed and rubbed my back.

“Nice making me gimp down the hall to you
. I’m sorry, Morgan.”

The tears came silently.

I spent the remainder of my time in town
with Gayle. I didn’t try to reach Mathew. He didn’t try very hard to reach me. He called once. I hadn’t taken it. I left San Jose without seeing him again. I came back to San Diego determined to put Mathew behind me. The balance of the summer, I spent a lot of time at the beach with friends. There were lots of parties. The ocean was warm. There were lots of boys. I finally found some acceptance my senior year at San Pasqual High School. I wasn’t the new girl anymore.

I serial dated, no one serious
. I became a use-and-discard date, but this time it was me doing the discarding, I didn’t want anyone too close. More than a few boys were hurt by my inability to have anything more than fun. Love wasn’t an option. Mathew sent me pictures of the band with short notes, a flyer from a performance, a post card. He never said anything about us. I ignored it, never responded to him. I went to the senior prom with one guy and to graduation night at Disneyland with another. I had casual sex that meant nothing, and I wondered if I was broken for good. Gayle and I talked on the phone often. While she was dealing with the physical effects of her injuries, I was dealing with emotionally dissecting myself.

N
either was easy.

Chapter
37

“When you coming thi
s summer?” Gayle asked over the phone.

It was hard to believe an entire year had passed. Gayle was back to her normal self. Her injuries had healed and she said she no longer dreamed about the accident.

              “I’m not sure I’m coming at all,” I answered.

“You have to come
. We’re free, done with high school. I’m better. We can hang and go to parties. I want you to come,” she begged. “I’ll find out where Kingdom Come is playing.”

             
“That’s exactly what I need,” I said sarcastically.

             
She knew I was kidding.

             
“You talk to him yet?” she asked.

             
“No. He’s sent me some stuff on what the band is up to. Not really a letter, just keeping me in the loop or on the line.”

             
Even the stupid little things he sent made my heart jump, made the memories fill my head.

             
“Are you still seeing that one guy?”

             
“John? No, didn’t do it for me. Our lives are too different.”

             
She sighed and I could picture the frown on her face.

              “It’s always something with them,” she scolded.

             
“I’m apparently not girlfriend-boyfriend material,” I said. “Anyway, my flight gets in Friday, July first, at two thirty.”

             
I was rolling a pencil on the Formica kitchen counter as I stood leaning against it, the phone to my ear. Gayle had told me anytime in July would be fine.

             
“You shit, you planned on coming,” she said.

             
I laughed.

             
“I’ll meet you outside baggage, so you don’t have to park.”

              “I’ll meet you at the gate, just as easy,” she said.

             
“Sure Jane will be cool with ten days?”

             
“Of course she is.”

I couldn’t wait to see
Gayle, couldn’t wait to see her walking on her own again.

When I walked through the gate, I searched the crowd for her. Not seeing her, I started down the terminal toward baggage claim. I figured we hadn’t communicated correctly, and she would be outside baggage.

             
“Hey, kid,” I heard him say.

I froze
, knowing instantly it was Mathew. I waited until he was in front of me. My eyes locked with his, my mind racing.
Mathew? Mathew? How?
Before I could answer my own questions, he caught me up and pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard. Almost desperate, like he was afraid of what I might do. When I pulled back, he didn’t release me. I had to arch my back to pull away enough to get a good look at him. He hadn’t changed much. His hair was shorter. It was obvious by his tan he had been hanging out at the beach. His blue eyes searched mine for a response. I smiled slightly, and he smiled back. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I was numb, in shock. I was having a hard time identifying what I was feeling actually. I waited.
Sad, mad
,
shock,
all rolled in one.
Where was Gayle?

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to convince Gayle to let me come
,” he said.

It was like he’d read my mind
. I stared at him like he was a mirage.

             
“How did you know I was coming?” I asked, perplexed.

             
“I figured you would, so I called Gayle when school ended. She didn’t want to tell me much to begin with. She’s like a mother bear when it comes to you.”

              “Just regarding you,” I said firmly.

             
I could picture Gayle telling him what a dick he’d been last summer, she wouldn’t hold back. I hoped she’d given him a verbal whipping.

             
“You’re not mad I hope?”

             
I was surprised. I didn’t have a response. I let him take my hand and walk me to baggage claim where we waited for my bag. I could feel him watching me, waiting. I was dumbfounded at Gayle. The bag finally came and, as I reached for it, he reached past me and removed it from the conveyor belt. When we got to his car, he put my bag into the trunk and followed me to the passenger side of the car. As I reached for the handle, he put his hands on my waist, gently pushing me up against the car. Our conversation so far had been uncomfortable and awkward.
Gayle, I’m going to kill you
is all I could think. She’d put up with so much from him on my behalf,
why this?
I wanted to run, run back home, far away.
How did I answer him?

“I’m
absolutely stunned you could talk Gayle into this,” I said. “You did talk her into this, right?”

             
“I have my ways,” he grinned.

             
“So you did, I mean, talk her into it. How?”

             
I felt betrayed.
Why would she do this?
Especially knowing how last summer ended, and how hard I had tried to wiggle him out of my heart. He leaned in to kiss me. I turned my face.

             
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get over being mad,” he said.

             
“Big of you,” I answered.

             
He opened the car door for me. We hadn’t gotten very far out of the airport when he put his hand on my knee.

             
“Jack’s or Gayle’s?” he asked.

             
“That’s bold, very bold. Gayle’s,” I shot back.

I’d heard
that he had moved into Jack’s officially from his parents' place. I knew the band was very popular and playing all around the San Jose area, I knew about the female attention he was generating. Gayle, despite her feelings about Mathew and me, kept me up to date. I watched the traffic out the window.
What the fuck was she thinking?
I truly couldn’t understand any of it; I was dumbstruck.

             
“Jack’s it is then,” he said, pushing the eight-track in.

             
Carly Simon came blasting out. He sang the words to "You’re So Vain"
.
I couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t much like my sappy kind of music.

             
“I’m learning,” he said glancing at me.

             
“Learning what? I hardly imagine you up on stage doing Carly Simon.”

             
He took the exit towards Jack’s not Gayle’s.

             
“I said Gayle’s,” I repeated firmly.

             
He wasn’t listening. I had mixed emotions about being with him. The butterflies were confused, but they were there, as was the pressure in my chest.

              “She’ll be waiting, Mathew,” I said, frustrated.

             
“I told Gayle not to wait up.”

             
“You’re just plain bad,” I said, feeling dazed.

             
He was quiet a minute while I stared out the window. He still could get to me, even if I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

             
“I think we established that a long time ago.”

             
“I’ve been set up,” I said softly.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Gayle’s motive
. I would have guessed she would have told Mathew to go drown himself. Instead she let him pick me up.
He had told her not to wait up?
She was biting her tongue. Gayle was doing what she thought I would want. It had nothing to do with Mathew’s
ways
. She was forcing me to make my own decision, hoping I would make the right one. I heard her voice “it makes sense about your stupid behavior”.
Was I even capable of love or was I truly damaged goods? Damaged goods
I thought.

“Are you dating anyone in particular or just the normal steady stream?” I asked.

I wanted not to care. In a way I already knew the answer, he wouldn’t have gone to lengths to pick me up if he had a girlfriend.

             
“Nobody in particular,” he said.

             
“I guess Anna didn’t work out so well?” I asked, tormenting.

             
“Anna who?” he answered.

             
They had in fact dated last summer after I left. Bobby had reluctantly confirmed that for me.

             
“I’m an idiot, okay? I’m sorry,” he said.

             
I stared straight ahead, wondering what the hell I was doing. Why I even got in the car. Our exchange on the path in Capitola filled my head, colliding with flashes of our days alone on the beach. Unconsciously I raised my fingers to my lips and I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye.
Gayle, what have you done to me?

“There’s no sorry, r
emember?” I said.

When we walked into Jack’s house
, I could hear Jack talking in the backyard. Mathew went to the refrigerator.

             
“Beer, wine?” he asked.

             
“Got any white wine?”

             
Yes, a drink would be good
I thought.

             
“I do. This is something new,” he said.

             
I stood in silence watching him, the muscles move in his arm, his fingers, while he uncorked the bottle and poured me a glass. I numbly took the glass from him and he got himself a beer. He took my hand, and quickly ducked in for a kiss on my cheek. We walked out back into the sunshine.

             
“How are you?” Jack asked as he stood, giving me a big hug.

             
It was all too familiar, this house, this yard.
Please let me blink and be in Kansas: Dorothy, there’s no place like home
.

             
“Emily,” I said, hugging Jack’s girlfriend as she stood.

             
“It’s good to see you again,” she said smiling.

Mathew pulled up some lawn chairs for us o
n the patio, and we joined them. He kept glancing at me and I wondered if he could sense my thoughts, the urge in me to run. It was a hot afternoon, and Mathew’s car had no air conditioning, so I was sweating. The wine tasted refreshing, and I drank half of it in a few sips. A sprinkler rotated on the lawn, sending water one direction then the other. The water seemed to be making the air somewhat cooler. I could smell the familiar sweet scent of jasmine in the air. The sky was clear and blue. I felt stiff, like my body was in defense mode. I looked at Mathew who was still watching me. I finished my wine wanting the liquid to slow my mind.
Gayle, what have you done
screamed like a siren in my head. I pulled my hair up, twisting it into itself so I could get it off my neck.

“Can I get another glass?”
I asked, a little embarrassed I’d finished it so fast.

             
“I’ll get it,” Mathew said, jumping up.

             
“There’s another bottle in the pantry,” Emily said. “You might want to put it in the fridge.”

             
Mathew walked to the back door his blonde hair gleaming in the sun. He brought me back another glass, much fuller, I noticed. Emily winked at me. I felt the tension from the airport exchange start to ease.

             
“How long you here for?” Jack asked.

             
“Ten days,” Mathew said.

             
“Staying with us?”

             
“No, with Gayle,” I answered, shooting Jack an
are you kidding
look.

He
and Emily knew about my last exit. Mathew smiled at me apprehensively. I had the feeling he was going to try and change that. I realized how much I’d missed him. We sat having cocktails, enjoying the afternoon. It was nice just the four of us talking and laughing.

             
“Jack, can I use the phone?” I asked.

             
“Use whatever you need while you’re here, especially Mathew, I’m offering him up right away,” he said, laughing

             
Mathew shot me a questioning look and watched me as I went inside. I picked up the phone to call Gayle. I stood holding the receiver; the line buzzing, and then put it back down. She would have questions that I currently couldn’t answer. I opened the fridge and poured myself another glass of wine. I noticed Mathew had put the other bottle in. I leaned against the counter, trying to sort my feelings; it wasn’t coming very easily. Emily came in the back door.