Being okay on my own—that was my number-one priority. I had to prove to Max that I wasn’t a princess who depended on her parents. Maybe if I did, he’d understand how little I cared about their approval. I wished my mother loved me in a less controlling way, but I’d long since made peace with the idea that I’d never meet her expectations, and I had no desire to live for my folks. One day, hopefully they’d accept me as I was.
If not... Well. I’m still me.
I was pretty damn tired, though, when I finished up for the day, and there was still the matter of the empty fridge to deal with. There was a small mom-and-pop grocery store adjacent to campus, which relied mostly on business from dorm dwellers, but it would work for me, too. Usually I went shopping with Angus or Max brought stuff home, and I just paid my portion of the grocery bill. Things were so easy before and I didn’t appreciate how much it felt like a family until I started thinking about all the things I needed to take care of on my own. I filled a small shopping basket, which translated to four grocery sacks. They were heavy as I trudged down to the bus stop, and even more so for the mile and a half to Evan’s house.
I felt good about what I’d accomplished when I let myself. Evan had given me a key, which meant I lived here. The breakup’s real. Part of me kept hoping Max would show up on his bike and tell me he wanted to talk, that he understood or he missed me. But that was pointless wishing. I’d screwed up bad enough that he didn’t trust me anymore. I had to start again and show that I was the kind of person who could be relied upon. That wouldn’t happen overnight.
Dana, Ji Hoo and Evan were all in the living room when I struggled through the back door. They all stared at me strangely, then Evan sprang up to help me with the bags.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? I went over to grab these two anyway, so I was around campus today.”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t know...and I didn’t want to bother you.” More, it was that I didn’t want to rely on him; he’d done enough.
“So you’re shacking up with Evan now, huh?” Dana teased.
“Yeah, what’s that about?” Ji Hoo wanted to know. “I thought we had a strict no-dating-other-band-members policy?”
“Separate rooms, people. Get your minds out of the gutter.” I knew they understood, but it seemed better to play along than to let them see how emotionally ransacked I was. My heart was like somebody had robbed the place, throwing shit everywhere with torn clothing and dishes broken on the floor.
“You got groceries?” Evan asked.
“Yep. I’m tired of living on white rice and beer.”
“She has a point,” Dana admitted.
“So, are we rehearsing tonight?” Monday wasn’t a usual night for it, but maybe things would change now that I was living here.
Evan shook his head. “Nah, but I wanted to play them our song.”
“Oh, right.” Once I finished putting stuff away, I headed out to the garage with him.
We’d worked on this long enough that I remembered my part by heart, so I gave the sheet music to Dana and Ji Hoo. Evan and I sang it; it was a moody, bluesy song with lyrics chock-full of regret. Tentatively we were calling it “Might Have Been,” and the other two closed their eyes as they listened.
“Wow,” Dana said, once we finished the run through.
Ji Hoo nodded. “That’s really tight. I might suggest...”
They offered some suggestions and we tweaked both melody and lyrics until we all thought it was pretty much perfect, then we played it as a group, but strangely, Dana and Ji Hoo didn’t weigh in on vocals.
Afterward, I asked, “What was up with that?”
“It sounds better with just you and Evan,” she said.
Ji Hoo seemed to agree. “Yeah, that’s a duet if I ever heard one. You’re basically telling a story about a dying relationship, so it’s more powerful this way.”
“I don’t think I should be singing on my own,” I protested.
Dana shrugged. “There’s some edge, you’re unpolished. But it works here. Makes it sound more...raw. Courtney Love doesn’t exactly sound like angel.”
“True,” Evan put in. “But I’d compare our Courtney more to Johnette Napolitano.”
My brows shot up. “Wow, really? She was awesome in Concrete Blonde but her solo work is good, too.”
That night, we ended up doing an impromptu rehearsal and then Evan cooked for us, using the groceries I brought home. Ji Hoo and Dana stayed pretty late, long past the usual cutoff, and I was feeling almost...decent by the time they left. While Evan took them home, I put away the equipment in the garage. I’d seen him do it often enough.
Though it was late, I had one more phone call to make. I got my phone out, exhaling in a nervous rush. Amy was a night owl, so this shouldn’t bother her. She might not answer, though, since I had a new number. It rang four times before she picked up.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me,” I said.
“Oh, you got a new number. I’m surprised you’re calling me with it.”
I ignored that. “Were you serious about wanting to make it right between us?”
“Definitely.”
“Then I need a favor. And then we can call it square.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As agreed, Amy recommended me to her manager; he called me in for an interview a few days later, but I got the job myself. Pretty good for someone with zero work experience. I started the next night, and by the end of my first shift, I had an all-new respect for people who worked in hospitality. It sucked taking orders from drunk college students and the tips weren’t that great, either. But it was money coming in.
My work schedule meant that rehearsals changed according to my work requirements, though, and I felt bad about keeping Dana, Ji Hoo and Evan waiting while I figured out what nights I could do it. There was no alternative, though, since I wasn’t a princess anymore. On the bright side, I’d saved myself from the tower and was now frolicking in the village on my own.
My friendships weren’t totally devastated, as I’d feared. I had dinner with Nadia and I’d met Kia for coffee to collect my money, which helped me survive until my first paycheck. In time, I started hanging out with Amy and her girlfriend, Elena, too, who was a pretty woman of Mexican descent with a compact, curvy figure and big brown eyes. The best thing about her, however, was her sense of humor. Angus was the only person I hadn’t seen since I moved out, and his relative silence, compared to how it used to be, made me think he was cutting ties in solidarity with Max. That hurt but it was relatively low collateral damage, socially speaking.