Boring Girls(120)

I stared out the window, first at the narrow buildings and the bright umbrellas, blurry through the glass, and then out at green soaking wet countryside. Here we were in England again and, once again, I didn’t feel too much like enjoying it.

After a long, silent ride, we arrived at the hotel. Toad explained that all the bands playing the festival were staying here and we had one room reserved for us that we’d all share. Toad went to check us in, and we stood in the front lobby in our damp jackets, swaying with exhaustion. Next to the lobby was the hotel bar. Music and laughter drifted out, and I noticed a bunch of musician-types hanging out in there. A few of them were also in the lobby, sprawled in the big stuffed chairs. Cigarette smoke lent a haze to everything. Or maybe I was just really tired.

It occurred to me that the DED guys must be at this hotel. Maybe even in the hotel bar. I looked a little closer at the people I could see through the doorway. Lots of black hair, lots of black clothes. Nobody recognizable. I looked over at Fern to see if she’d had the same thought, and our eyes met. She smiled at me brightly, looking angelic in her white cap. I smiled back wearily, unable to fathom where she was getting this energy from. Maybe she’d slept in the taxi.

We headed up to our room, which had two double beds and a cot. Toad griped as he set his shit up on the cot. I collapsed onto the bed and turned on the TV. Edgar and Socks sprawled on the other bed, and Fern headed into the shower.

She emerged a little while later, looking clean and gorgeous. She’d pulled on a tight black sweater and dark blue jeans, even put on some makeup. I could smell her vanilla perfume.

“Who wants to go have a drink?” she asked.

“Me,” Socks said, immediately perking up and jumping off the bed. There were no other replies — Edgar and Toad were both passed out.

The two of them left, and I fell asleep almost immediately.

xXx

I awoke in the dark room with Fern shaking my shoulder lightly. In the time I’d slept, it had gotten dark. My mind reeled — I needed more sleep.

“Wake up,” Fern whispered. “Rachel.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Come have a smoke with me.”

“Okay.”

I forced myself to sit up. I could see the dark shapes of the guys sleeping, could hear Edgar’s light snoring. Fern pulled open the curtains and opened the sliding door that led out to the small balcony.

I followed her out there. It was so cold, I pulled up my hood. My gaze swept over the dark front lawn of the hotel below, along the driveway, lined with glowing streetlamps. Fern lit a cigarette and held it out for me. Then she lit one for herself.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I saw them,” she said, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Sid. And Ed. And the drummer. Downstairs, in the bar.”

I swallowed. An image flashed into my mind, a memory of Fern pressed into a couch, the big hand moving to pin hers down. I slammed that door shut fast. “You saw them?”

“Yes,” she breathed, puffing on her cigarette. “They were drunk.”

“Did they see you?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “They bought me a few drinks.”

My mouth moved, my lips forming words, but I said nothing. I tried to process what she was telling me. Her eyes had a strange light in them.

“They had no idea who I was,” she said, and giggled, a high note of hysteria in her tone. “I talked to them. They like our band. They know who our band is.”

I took a few deep drags of my cigarette, staring at her. “They do?”

“Yeah. And they didn’t recognize me. Can you believe it?” She was babbling, smiling, gushing like an excited fan, Can you believe it? I didn’t understand how she could talk to them. I didn’t understand why she was so happy now. I breathed in smoke, trying to understand. I tried to imagine being in the same room with Balthazar. Talking to him. Having a damn drink with him.

“Balthazar wasn’t there,” she said, as if I had spoken the thought aloud. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what questions to ask. I just stood there, listening to her. She prattled on about how Socks had been all excited to meet them and to talk to the drummer, and how she thought the one guy, Sid, had been hitting on her, and how they’d all gotten along like old friends.

“I don’t understand how they could have forgotten,” I finally said. “I don’t understand why they wouldn’t remember. I can’t forget it. I will never —”