Will's Story (7 page)

I was ready

Time to go

One phone call

One swift blow

I never worked up the
nerve to call Amber on Saturday. I worked nonstop on her songs, but somehow actually reaching out, now that I could without guilt, scared the shit out of me. Now here it is Sunday afternoon, and I'm still staring at my phone like it's a two-headed rattlesnake. Come on, Will. You got this.

I hit her number. It rings a couple of times, and then she answers. Her voice is bright and breathless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Amber.” Then I think about how she must think we left things on Friday night. “Sorry our practice got cut short Friday.”

“It's okay. I understand.”

“Can we try again? Tomorrow after chorus? I've been working on ‘Ave Maria.'”

There's a pause. “Are you sure you want to?”

Does
she
want to? “I told you I'd help.”

“I know. I just don't want your girlfriend pissed off at you. Not that I'm a threat or anything, but—”

I've got to stop her. Let her know. “Not So Plain and Small.”

“Yeah?”

I clear my throat. “It doesn't matter what she thinks.”

“It doesn't?”

“No.” There. I've done it. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders.

But she keeps talking like she didn't hear me. “Hey,” Amber says. “Would you help me with an errand after school, before practice?”

I'm not sure she understands what I just told her. I did tell her, didn't I?

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I've got to go by the pawnshop to pay for a guitar.”

“A guitar?” Why are we talking about guitars and not the fact that I broke up with my girlfriend? “Is it for you?”

She's super-quiet for a long time. Then she says, “It's for Sean. I took up a collection and we got him a Gibson. Sean's really good. We should all play together sometime.”

And there is the mic drop. I am speechless. I waited too long.

“Will?”

I must make some guttural sound.

“Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” Fuck, fuck, fuckity motherfuck, fuck. “Um, listen. I've got to run. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

When I hit the off button, I stare at the phone.

Then I throw it against my wall.

Later in the afternoon, Devon comes and finds me out back where I'm sulking with a Ron Rash book in the tree platform Dad built for us. We'd laughed at the time, because we were already in high school, but his fulfilling his boyhood dream for us actually turned out to be a good thing. It's both me and my brother's favorite thinking spot.

“Here.” Devon hands me a Gatorade and a warm pumpkin muffin. “Dad got all domestic this afternoon. Told me to bring you one.”

“Thanks, man.”

Devon settles back against a post. “Whatcha reading?”

I hold up the book. “Some dude. Teaches down at Western Carolina. Short stories. They're pretty good.”

Devon nods.

“How's it going with Skype boy?”

It's like my brother's internal lightbulb switches on. “He's great.”

“Huh,” I say.

“What? Don't tease. I really like him. He's cool. You'll like him, too. He skis and sails and is really into archaeology.”

“What about music?”

“Enough.”

I eat the muffin and we settle into brother quiet. Off in the distance a woodpecker hammers a dead tree. Eventually, Devon speaks again. “Found your phone. I was sort of curious why it was on the floor with a cracked screen, so I did some snooping.”

I put the book down.

“I thought I was going to find Amber Rose's number as the last dialed and that y'all had gotten into it again. Was sort of surprised to see Plain and Small's instead.” He raises one eyebrow.

“I called her about practice.”

“And threw your phone at the wall?”

The jig is up but I definitely don't feel like talking about it. “Drop it, bro.”

Devon sits up and folds his legs across each other. “No. What's up? Do you like her or something? I've kind of been getting a vibe.”

“I said drop it, Devon. She's buying a guitar for Sean. She obviously is into him.”

“Huh.” Devon looks off like he's thinking. “I knew about that. Think she was just being a Good Samaritan. She hasn't mentioned that she was into him.” Then he looks at me again. “But you're into her?”

I lift my shoulders. “She's cool.”

“You know, I wouldn't care. She's my best friend. And you're my other best friend. As long as you didn't get all weird around me, I might actually like the two of you together.”

“Yeah, doesn't look like that's going to happen.”

Devon rolls his eyes. “And you people call me the drama queen.”

He walks back to the house and I wonder. Is he right? Am I overreacting? Again.

The sight of you

The way you sing

Block out my doubts

Make my heart ring

Monday morning, I decide I'm
going to tear a page from Devon's advice column and take a chill pill. I see Amber when she comes into school and it's hard not to react in the woe-is-me way. She's dressed like she's ready for the stage, not her normal school clothes, but more like she's got someone she's trying to impress. But Sean doesn't meet her. Devon and C.A. swoop in and flutter around her then lead her off to the art room. Good thing, too, because I see Amber Rose looking at her like she's ready to kill.

True to her word, Amber Rose doesn't talk to me. But Sarabeth does. “So, hear you broke my girl's heart on Friday. Congratulations, dick. What'd you do?”

“Nothing, Sarabeth. We just aren't right for each other.”

“You're a dick.” But she doesn't start yelling about me being a cheater.

I catch Amber Rose's eye. She nods once then looks away. I sigh. “Go away, Sarabeth. Make someone else's life miserable.”

“Whatever. You're dead to us, you know.” I guess Amber Rose is lucky to have a friend so loyal but she's making me crazy. I shoo her away with my hand.

When Sarabeth leaves, I head to class early for some alone time so I can figure out what's next. Maybe I can talk to Amber at lunch and ask her point-blank about her and Sean. It's better to know than to assume.

I sit through first, then second block. As I watch the clock, I'm figuring out my strategy. I'm going to walk right up to her and lay it out. “Amber,” I'm going to say, “I don't think I was clear yesterday. When I said my girlfriend wasn't going to be a problem, it's because I don't have one. Me and Amber Rose broke up.” Then I'm going to judge her reaction. I'll swallow a big mouthful of pride and ask her about Sean. I won't know my next move until I hear her answer.

The bell rings. I gather my books and my nerve.

Down the hall, kids are milling and moving about,
clanging lockers and yelling to wait up. Me? I'm in quicksand. My throat is dry. My hands are nervous. This is so stupid. I'm not this guy.

When I get to the first floor, I see Amber huddled with Devon and C.A. outside the library. A group of freshman girls walks by and just as they pass, Amber takes off. Toward me. I want to yell at her to watch out for the book bag on the floor but it's too late. She hits it and goes flying.

I jog toward her. Devon and C.A. come running from the other direction. Mrs. Early appears from her office door. We all get to Amber at the same time.

“Are you okay, Amber?” Mrs. Early leans over her.

Devon and C.A. squat down and put her arms over their shoulders. “Here, we'll take you to the nurse.”

I'm standing there not doing anything, not sure where I fit, when Amber looks at me.

“Are you okay?” I take a step closer.

She looks away, tears in her eyes, her face filled with pain and something else. Embarrassment? “I'm okay,” she says, but her voice is choked with tears. When she tries to put pressure on the ankle she hurt a week ago, Amber crumples.

“Oh.” C.A. leans in and puts a hand to her mouth.

I step in. “Here, let me help.” I take the arm C.A. had and Amber grips my shoulder. We take her, en masse, to
the nurse's office. I guide her onto the examination table while Devon explains what happened to the nurse.

Mrs. Early and C.A. leave once they're sure she's in good hands but me and Devon hang out.

“So what happened back there? Why were you running?” I slide onto the table next to her, desperately wanting to put my arm around her and make the pain disappear.

Devon looks over. “Kush is talking trash about her.”

Amber shudders back a sob. “Why would he do that?” She presses a Kleenex to her eyes, then her nose.

Devon shrugs. “Maybe because you rejected him? Because he thinks you picked Sean instead?”

“Thinks?” I look between them. Now Kush is after Amber, too?

Amber starts crying.

Devon huddles close. “Yeah. It's my fault. I asked for her or C.A. to kiss Kush.” He nudges me. “You know, as
a test
.”

Amber sucks in a breath as the nurse touches her ankle. Or is it because of what Devon said?

“Did you?” I ask. “Kiss him?” Every time I think I'm finally going to say what I need to say to this girl, another wrench gets thrown in the works.

“Yes,” she says. “I did. But it's not what you think.”

“But you kissed him.” I need the facts.

Volcano girl reappears. “It's not like I have a boyfriend, even if I
had
been into it. Which I wasn't.”

The nurse shoos us out of the room before I can say anything else.

“Devon?” It's the only question I need as we walk away, toward the cafeteria.

“She's not into Sean. I checked. And she's telling the truth. You should get her to tell you the whole story. It's messed up and now Kush is being a total douche bag. Makes me extra glad I didn't keep barking up that tree.”

Okay. So she kissed the dude. But she doesn't like him: it was a dare. And she's right. She's not my girlfriend.

“So are you going to ask her out, or what?” Devon hands me a tray as we reach the front of the food line.

“You don't care?”

“I told you I didn't.”

“Do you think she's interested?”

Devon rolls his eyes at the lunch lady and mouths “boys.” She winks at him and smirks at me. “I don't know, Will. Should I send her a note? Check yes if you like my brother.”

“Would you?”

He stops the line and stares at me for a full five seconds without blinking.

I shake my head. “Okay, stop. I know.” I take the pizza
the lunch lady offers.

Devon huffs. “You sound like a whipped dog. But, yes, I will ask her if she likes you.”

We punch in our student account numbers at the register.

“Today?”

He cranks his head around and goes all bug-eyed and annoyed. “Yes, Will. Today. I'll ask her today.”

“Geez. You don't have to be so testy.” But even as I growl the words, I can't stop the smile from creeping onto my face.

Before lunch ends I text Amber to see if she's okay. Turns out her ankle was broken not sprained and she's getting a cast, but I ask about our tentative practice plans anyway.

Practice?

Yes.
Then I see she's typing more.
That kiss wasn't real, I swear.

You don't owe me an explanation.
I answer. Then type another line.
But I believe you.

I hit send. Then write a few more words.

So when are you going to kiss me again?

I don't have the nerve to send that one.

It's nice to talk

To watch your eyes

To take it slow

To realize

When I leave school I
have a revelation. I don't want Devon to intervene. I don't need his help. If there's a real thing happening between me and Amber Vaughn, I want it to unfold like a song. A slow build. A chorus. A repeat. Anything else is middle school.

“Dude. I changed my mind about Amber.”

Devon is slathering peanut butter onto thick slices of Dad's homemade wheat bread. He takes a bite, then garbles his response. “Whatever.”

“No. I'm serious. She's coming over to practice. And she's good. She's going to get into that school and the last thing she needs is me messing with her head. Promise you'll leave it.”

He swallows the bite he's chewing. “Just because she's auditioning doesn't mean she can't date. You two will be adorbs together.”

Now would be the perfect moment to tell Devon what happened between me and Amber Vaughn. But even though I
am
the boy who cheated, I am
not
the boy who tells. Even to my brother. If Amber wants to tell him, fine, they're best friends. But it's not my place.

Fortunately I'm saved by the buzz of his phone and from the smile on his face, I'm guessing it's Gil, his new sort-of boyfriend.

I take the escape and grab my banjo and head for the porch to wait for Amber.

Mom's pulling in. She walks up the steps, her tote loaded with papers from school. “Hey, hon. Going to play a little?”

“Yeah, waiting to help Amber with her audition practice.”

She smiles, a twinkle lighting the corner of her eyes. “So, Amber Vaughn?” There's a knowing emphasis on the name.

“Mom!”

She laughs. “I like Amber Vaughn—I always have.” She leans over the rocking chair and kisses me on the forehead. “But mostly I like you and I want you to be happy.”
She straightens up. “I'm proud of you for finally talking to your dad. He's proud, too, you know.”

“Is he?”

She shifts her bag. “Of course he is. You're following the dream he let go. It's every father's hope, on a certain level. He was even talking last night before bed about looking forward to seeing you onstage and how he'd have to find you the best contract lawyer around when some label wants to sign you.”

“No way.”

“Way.” She winks. A van pulls into the driveway. “Now you have fun. That young lady has a wonderful heart. Don't let her down. I taught you better than that.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

As I watch Amber get out of her mom's van, I realize how out of my hands things are. All I can do in this world is be true to myself. Be true to my dreams. And be the person I've been taught to be. Anything else? That's just luck. Maybe fate. But I'll know I did what I needed to do.

I start flat-picking a tune. The notes circle out over the yard and a beautiful girl smiles at me.

From the hills, there's that hammer of a woodpecker.

And I feel good.

Right.

Home.