underneath
my inexperience.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my passion, and Avery was
right. I hate that she’s right. Or maybe I love it. Fuck, I don’t know. But it
had me watching out my window this morning, just waiting for her to get in her
car with Max and leave the house so I could pull out my guitar without her
thinking she had anything to do with it.
She had everything to do with it. But she doesn’t need to know that.
By the time noon rolled around, I had played through
everything I’d ever written, and covered about twenty of my favorites just
trying to find myself again somewhere in this mess I’ve made. And now I just
need to convince Ray to let me go on tonight. I need to see how it
feels—in front of an audience. See if my heart kicks again…like it used
to.
I’m a disheveled mess, my hair wet from the thirty-second
shower and my shirt half tucked in when I walk into Dusty’s. I always liked the
lunch crowd. It was nothing but locals and regulars, people who actually came
here to get drunk early and eat the food. I look like I fit right in.
“Thanks for hanging on to my stuff, Ray,” I hear a familiar,
grating voice say from the other side of the swinging door. If I could wish
myself to have one super power right now, it would be invisibility. But since
that’s not an option, I do the next best thing and duck behind the counter
while Ray and my mother walk around the other side.
“Sure thing, Barb. You know you’ve always got a place here,”
Ray says, holding the door open while my mother follows him through. I can see
the top of her copper hair as I crouch and slide my way around the opposite
direction of the counter. “So, you good startin’ back up tonight then?”
“Honey, I’m always ready,” she says, her overt flirtation
like a wet fish slapped in my face. My mother always threw herself at
men—doesn’t matter that she’s known Ray for years. He has a penis, no
wife, and a decent job. That made him fair game. At least until some
millionaire shows up.
“You can’t hide here forever, ya know,” I hear behind me as
a foot kicks my ass lightly, just enough to push me off balance and onto my
hands and knees. I turn around to see a tiny brunette with short bobbed hair
and her hand on one hip, her tray balanced against the other. “That’s your
mama, Mason. She’s going to know you’re back in town eventually.”
“Yeah, I know…” I say, studying her face and looking for
recognition.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she says, popping a giant
bubble with her gum. I know I know her, but damned if I could remember her name
right now. She’s one of Avery’s friends—I saw her the other night, and
I’m pretty sure not recognizing her now is not going to do me any favors when
it comes to Avery. Shit, I hope I never
slept with her!
“I remember you…it’s just…been a while,” I say, standing up
and dusting off my jeans, racking my brain… nothing.
“Uh huh. Sure you do,” she says, walking past me with a
smirk on her face.
“Carrie,” I take a stab in the dark. The look she shoots
back at me tells me I’m not even close.
“ Claire , Mason!
Good lord, at least you got the first letter right. I’ve known you since sixth
grade?” she says, loading up her tray with drinks, straws, and napkins. I
decide to help her, hoping my gesture might just earn me some points.
“Yeah, that’s right. Sorry. I knew you…I just couldn’t get
the name to come up. Sorry,” I repeat, sheepishly. It’s better to just own up
to this.
She gives me a short half-smile and pauses for a second or
two before shrugging and lifting her tray. I follow behind with a stack of
menus. “So, Mason. What are you doing back in town?” she says over her
shoulder, dropping off a few drink orders before seating a group of
construction workers at a booth.
“You know, just figuring some things out. Not sure if I want
to tour any more or maybe work on some solo stuff,” I say, not
my inexperience.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my passion, and Avery was
right. I hate that she’s right. Or maybe I love it. Fuck, I don’t know. But it
had me watching out my window this morning, just waiting for her to get in her
car with Max and leave the house so I could pull out my guitar without her
thinking she had anything to do with it.
She had everything to do with it. But she doesn’t need to know that.
By the time noon rolled around, I had played through
everything I’d ever written, and covered about twenty of my favorites just
trying to find myself again somewhere in this mess I’ve made. And now I just
need to convince Ray to let me go on tonight. I need to see how it
feels—in front of an audience. See if my heart kicks again…like it used
to.
I’m a disheveled mess, my hair wet from the thirty-second
shower and my shirt half tucked in when I walk into Dusty’s. I always liked the
lunch crowd. It was nothing but locals and regulars, people who actually came
here to get drunk early and eat the food. I look like I fit right in.
“Thanks for hanging on to my stuff, Ray,” I hear a familiar,
grating voice say from the other side of the swinging door. If I could wish
myself to have one super power right now, it would be invisibility. But since
that’s not an option, I do the next best thing and duck behind the counter
while Ray and my mother walk around the other side.
“Sure thing, Barb. You know you’ve always got a place here,”
Ray says, holding the door open while my mother follows him through. I can see
the top of her copper hair as I crouch and slide my way around the opposite
direction of the counter. “So, you good startin’ back up tonight then?”
“Honey, I’m always ready,” she says, her overt flirtation
like a wet fish slapped in my face. My mother always threw herself at
men—doesn’t matter that she’s known Ray for years. He has a penis, no
wife, and a decent job. That made him fair game. At least until some
millionaire shows up.
“You can’t hide here forever, ya know,” I hear behind me as
a foot kicks my ass lightly, just enough to push me off balance and onto my
hands and knees. I turn around to see a tiny brunette with short bobbed hair
and her hand on one hip, her tray balanced against the other. “That’s your
mama, Mason. She’s going to know you’re back in town eventually.”
“Yeah, I know…” I say, studying her face and looking for
recognition.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she says, popping a giant
bubble with her gum. I know I know her, but damned if I could remember her name
right now. She’s one of Avery’s friends—I saw her the other night, and
I’m pretty sure not recognizing her now is not going to do me any favors when
it comes to Avery. Shit, I hope I never
slept with her!
“I remember you…it’s just…been a while,” I say, standing up
and dusting off my jeans, racking my brain… nothing.
“Uh huh. Sure you do,” she says, walking past me with a
smirk on her face.
“Carrie,” I take a stab in the dark. The look she shoots
back at me tells me I’m not even close.
“ Claire , Mason!
Good lord, at least you got the first letter right. I’ve known you since sixth
grade?” she says, loading up her tray with drinks, straws, and napkins. I
decide to help her, hoping my gesture might just earn me some points.
“Yeah, that’s right. Sorry. I knew you…I just couldn’t get
the name to come up. Sorry,” I repeat, sheepishly. It’s better to just own up
to this.
She gives me a short half-smile and pauses for a second or
two before shrugging and lifting her tray. I follow behind with a stack of
menus. “So, Mason. What are you doing back in town?” she says over her
shoulder, dropping off a few drink orders before seating a group of
construction workers at a booth.
“You know, just figuring some things out. Not sure if I want
to tour any more or maybe work on some solo stuff,” I say, not
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