Love Songs & Other Lies(59)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THEN





CAM


Since we’re a high school band, ninety percent of the fans that come to watch The Melon Ballers are from nearby high schools and colleges. A few parents and teachers are mixed in. There’s an orange sea of underage wristbands waving through the air when we sit down after our show the following Saturday at Carnivale. We’ve played here twice a month since the first gig. Vee has gone back to wearing her purple Melon Ballers T-shirt instead of her Dakota Gray outfit. I like the leather pants, but it’s hard to argue with tradition. I wear the same pair of boxers for every show, and Anders has a lucky set of drumsticks he keeps in his pocket, even though they’re too beat up to actually use.

We’re in a booth in a back corner. Vee is next to me, and Logan and Anders are squeezed in across from us. As Logan complains about taking an early break so Steve can run home to get a replacement string, Vee and I hold hands under the table. We’re planning a trip to Chicago next month, and hashing out details. I haven’t told her yet, but I’m going to take her to busk on the street. It will be Dakota Gray’s first public performance, and I think by then she’ll be ready. We’re also checking out the Northwestern campus while we’re in Chicago. Vee hasn’t officially told me she’s going, but we talk about it a lot. Things seem to be falling into place for it to happen.

“Hey,” a voice says from the crowd of people around our table.

“Can I get a Coke?” Logan says, and I ask Vee what she wants before turning to order.

“I’ll have—” I stop when I realize it isn’t the waitress.

“I’m not the waitress, actually.” Sienna gives Logan an apologetic smile.

I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say when your ex-girlfriend who lives two thousand miles away is unexpectedly standing next to you. “Hey” is all I come up with.

“Hey,” she says. She’s standing next to the table awkwardly, looking between me and the other three people at the table. “Um.” She raises her hand up in a little wave, and puts on the fake smile I used to call her Cheerleader Face. “I’m Sienna. I’m a friend of Cameron’s, actually.” Her voice always gets high and squeaky when she’s got Cheerleader Face on. I used to think it was cute, but right now it makes me cringe. Vee straightens in her seat and leans forward to get a look at Sienna.

“Cool,” Anders says, around a pile of fries in his mouth. “Another chunk o’ cheese in the mitten.”

Shit.

Sienna looks at Anders, her face scrunched up in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Anders holds up his hand. “We call Michigan the mitten,” he says. “You can probably guess why.” He waves his hand in the air. “And you’re from Wisconsin.” He says it slowly, like she’s missed something really obvious. “So cheese … in the mitten.”

Sienna shakes her head. “I appreciate the visual, but I’m from California.” Cheerleader Face is back in full force. “Cameron and I went to school together.”

Vee’s eyes turn on me, along with everyone else’s. Act normal, Cam. “Sienna, these are my friends: Logan, Anders, and Vee.”

“Cool,” Sienna says, cheerily. “How have you been?” She’s only talking to me now, ignoring everyone around us. “I’ve been calling you.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Anders taps Sienna on the hand she’s resting on the table. “So, why are you here?”

Logan jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Fuck, come on. I mean from California.” Anders rubs his ribs dramatically. “Damn, it’s a legitimate question. We’re not exactly on the way to anything.”

Sienna is finally starting to fluster, her smile pained. “Your aunt and uncle told me you were here. I’m at Michigan now, and I was driving through to Chicago for break.” She shrugs her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “It actually was on the way. So here I am.” Sienna looks around nervously and shifts on her feet, looking uncomfortable standing here.

Shit. She probably is. “You want to sit down?” I get up to grab a chair from a nearby table, praying it isn’t the dumbest decision of my life. Vee is drumming her fingers on the table, glaring in confusion as she pieces it all together.

Sienna sits down awkwardly, bending one leg and leaving the other mostly straight. “Thanks.” She’s visibly relieved. “Still sore sometimes, you know. Three hours in the car doesn’t help.”

I don’t know what to say.

Sienna is quick to fill the silence, looking past me to Vee. “So are you in the band too?”

“She’s the manager.” I say it quickly, not thinking. In some ways I know I don’t owe Sienna a thing. Not an explanation or a diversion. In other ways, I feel like this is my chance to protect her. For once.

Vee’s drumming fingers stop suddenly. “Yep,” she says tightly, “I’m the manager.”

“So, how’s Maggs?” Sienna turns to me again.

Shit. “She’s fine.”

“Have you actually talked to her, Cameron?”

Vee leans to the side to see around me. “Who’s Maggs?”