Bullet(47)

On the way back home, Brad said, “Guess we’ll have to buy some sleeping bags or cots. The couch looked comfortable.”

I smiled. “Like you said, we’ll make it work. And who knows? Maybe we won’t be there for long.”

He and I had pooled our money for the deposits and first and last months’ rent and also spent some time (and more money) setting up the utilities not covered in the rent. I was nervous and discouraged by the time I got home, but then I thought to myself that if we all had part-time jobs and had regular gigs, we could make it, and maybe we could even look at bigger places down the line.

If Brad was concerned too, he didn’t show it. He oozed confidence, and he was positive we’d have no problems. His attitude helped alleviate some of my stress, because Brad had—in the short time I’d known him—done everything he’d set his mind to. So I trusted him and let go of the worry.

The day came that it was time for me to leave. Brad and the guys had already hauled all of their stuff to the apartment (including the van) the day before, but they said they’d only brought the bare essentials. Their parents—like my own—were okay with them leaving unnecessary items behind, their old rooms becoming storage.

I’d expected Brad to pick me up that Thursday afternoon, but it was Ethan. I’d already told my parents goodbye that morning, and Danny was off doing something with his girlfriend, so it was just Ethan and me putting my things in the back of his truck. I too just brought along what I thought to be essential—some clothes, makeup, music, laptop, writing supplies. I knew space would be limited, so I didn’t want to bring too much along.

As we started the trip, Ethan told me the other guys were spending the day buying things we’d need to set up our home—food, cleaning supplies, and things I’d never thought of, like trashcans, towels, sheets, and things. I didn’t have much money left, and I’d contribute what I could when I got there, but I knew Brad had to be getting to the bottom of his money supply too.

At first, driving down the mountain, Ethan just played the radio, and we didn’t say much to each other. But then he said, “The past few months, I haven’t talked to you much.”

Oh, well, this was a newsflash. “Yeah…”

“We’re good friends, right? Or were good friends?”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“And we kind of started getting hot and heavy there…and I sort of backed off.”

I nodded and looked out the side window. This was starting to piss me off. I didn’t need to be reminded of what an ass he’d been to me. “Yeah.” There wasn’t much more I wanted to say.

“There’s a reason for that.”

I looked back over at him. “What would that be?”

“I…uh…started to care for you more than I should.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t…shouldn’t. I mean…you’re my muse, Valerie.” Oh, God…there was that f*cking word again. “So I shouldn’t touch you. And you seemed so innocent, Val…like an angel. I don’t want to ruin that.”

I started laughing. “Oh, yeah, because metal is full of happy love songs, and everything is all happy and bright and innocent.”

He laughed too. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think you get where I’m coming from. Pain is part of life, Ethan, and I’m willing to take chances. It hurt me more than you know when you just decided you were done with me. Don’t you think that hurts more than just letting us explore where our relationship was going?” I was looking at him, waiting to see what he thought. “Even if it ends badly? Isn’t it worth just trying?”

He was quiet for a while. We sped down the road, and I started thinking maybe that was the end of the conversation. But then he said, “Not necessarily.” He looked over at me. “We were great friends, Val. We go down that road…any way you can keep your heart out of it?”

I wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Why would I want to?”

“So you didn’t get hurt.”

It was my turn to contemplate the conversation. I didn’t like the vibes I was getting from him. “Would that be inevitable?”

He kept his eyes on the road, but I could tell from his expression that there was no humor in his words. “With me…probably.”

I was getting upset. It was like he’d made up his mind that anything between the two of us would end in disaster. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Ethan. It’ll only be like that if you make it that way. And that would be a shitty thing to do.”

That got his attention. I didn’t curse like the rest of the guys did, so when I swore, they noticed. He looked over at me, but it was like he was at a loss for words. “If we’re friends, Ethan, then we move forward from there. And friends care about each other, take care of each other. Our friendship is mutual, isn’t it?” He nodded. “So who says it has to be complicated and calculated? Why can’t nature just take its course? Or is there something else you haven’t told me?”

“No.”

“Then why do we have to be afraid to see where this goes?”

Oh…that hit a nerve. Was he angry? I couldn’t tell, but I wanted to listen carefully to what he said next. “Caution is not the same as fear, Val, and why shouldn’t I worry about what happens to you?”

“Don’t you see that’s what I’m saying, Ethan? In your cautiousness for sparing me, you wound up hurting me worse than if we’d just let things happen.” His jaw was clenched tight. “I don’t care if you don’t want to hear that. If you don’t want to pursue it further, that’s fine. Just say so, but don’t *foot around and then pretend like I’m a hot potato when things get a little warm.” He still hadn’t said a word, so now was my chance to drive it home. “And stop calling me your f*cking muse, putting me up on a pedestal. I’m your friend, and I’m a band member. I’m an equal, so please treat me like one.”

He seemed to think about it, and we sat in silence for a while. We still weren’t talking by the time Ethan’s truck made it to the Springs. He said, “You need to stop for anything?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

We were on I-25 heading towards Denver when he started talking again. “So…start fresh then?”

Did he really mean it? He seemed sincere, and I’d felt cheated of his affection from the first moment he’d pulled away. Deep down, yes, I wanted to try it fresh. I wanted a second chance. I wanted to make a real go of it. Rational or not, I loved Ethan. I knew it was stupid, but it didn’t matter. Stupid or not, I wanted him. Part of me knew he was damaged…deeply damaged…and I think that part of me also wanted to try to save him. So, yes, I wanted a fair chance. I nodded. “Yeah.”

We were another few miles down the road when he said, “Am I f*cking up anything between you and Brad?”

I felt my eyes grow wide. What the hell had Brad said? Was Brad part of the reason Ethan had shied away from me? “No.” The less I said, the better.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. There’s nothing there.” Well, that wasn’t true. There was some irrational sexual attraction there that I didn’t think would ever disappear. Love, though? Nope. My feelings for Ethan blinded me to anyone else.

“Does he know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His voice was quiet. “I see the way he looks at you.”

Oh. I didn’t know Brad looked at me a certain way. But we weren’t going there. I refused. “Ethan, whatever happened between Brad and me is over. You heard him say it himself to my dad, and he meant it. He didn’t want a relationship screwing up the band so he instituted a hands off policy. There is nothing there.” Wow…was I protesting too much? Time to shut up, Valerie.

He wasn’t saying much of anything either, and I had no idea what to expect. Little sprinkles hit the windshield as a light rain cooled the early September air. I looked out the window at the gray skies. Finally, he spoke again. “I know it’s really none of my business, but I gotta know. Did you sleep with him?”

I don’t know why I told him. “You’re right. It’s none of your business, but no. We didn’t sleep together.” I sighed. This conversation felt like an exercise in futility. “I’m still a virgin.”

I saw him let the breath out of his lungs, almost like what I’d said was a shock. But then he hit me with a curveball. “So why are you on the pill then?”

My voice probably got higher than I should have let it. “What? How’d you know about that?”

“We toured together enough. I’ve seen you take it once or twice. I’m not an idiot.”