Boring Girls(96)

“Sorry, Rachel. You just look great,” he said, smiling at me.

“You look good too. How was tour?”

“It was f*cking great,” he said. “But I have to say, I’m glad to be almost done. Tonight is going to be amazing. The best. It’s so good to see you again.”

Things were bustling around us, gear being moved and set up, but Jamie stayed with me. I could feel Fern’s eyes on me from across the room, could almost feel her disapproval physically, burning into my face. I stood stiffly as Jamie ran one hand up my arm to my shoulder, tried to keep from jerking back as he put his fingers in my hair. I didn’t understand where this was coming from — the last I had seen of Jamie, we had parted as polite acquaintances. I hadn’t really cared then, and I certainly didn’t care now.

“You guys are doing really well,” Jamie said. “You went to England, I hear. I saw a few magazines with you guys while we were on the road.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as he casually ran both hands down my arms, past my wrists, and twined our fingers together, as though we were a comfy, intimately involved couple. I fought the urge to push him away and shriek until my eyes poured blood.

“The last time we saw each other, on that little tour, you know, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye the way I wanted to,” he said. “I’m glad we get to see each other again today. So I can make that up to you.”

“You didn’t say goodbye to me because you thought it was gross that I puked,” I reminded him.

“That’s not true. It was so cool. I didn’t think it was gross at all.”

“Yes, you did,” I said. “Remember the first day? We were pretty much flirting with each other.”

He laughed and seemed to blush. “You’re pretty blunt!”

I ignored him. “We were talking, all that. I sort of liked you, I mean, as much as you can like a person that you’ve only known for half a day, or whatever. You were asking me about where I grew up, all that stuff. But then I puked on that guy, and you didn’t really seem interested after that.”

“No, I — I thought it was . . . pretty cool that you did that.”

I began slowly untangling my fingers from his. “I know you did, totally. But you have to admit, it wasn’t very . . . hot.”

Jamie laughed. “Fuck, okay fine. You’re right. I didn’t think it was hot.”

I felt a lot better now that we were no longer holding hands, so I grinned at him. “Right. So I just don’t get it. Why are you holding my hand and touching me right now? Tell me it’s because you’re tired and crazy from tour. Otherwise I might think it’s because you saw a picture of me in a magazine so now you think it would be cool to be with me. Because really, dude, why else would you be trying to hit on me today?”

Jamie studied my face. I could tell he was put off by my forthrightness. I could almost hear his mind racing to figure out what the answer should be. I stared back at him, still grinning, and shortly he grinned back, his face relaxing, and he nervously tucked a strand of greasy hair behind his ear. “I’m just tired. And you know, it is good to see you. I’m stoked about this show.”

I still don’t know what his real reason was, but with that out of the way we were free to be just friends, and this time when we hugged it was nice, friendly, harmless. As we embraced, I saw Fern, sitting on the stage, half tuning her guitar, half staring at us, her expression frozen.

xXx

The last time we’d played here with that shitty Heathenistic Bile, we’d used the girls’ public washroom to get changed. This time, Robbie had the owner unlock a small shower-room backstage that we could use. The small, tiled room was filthy and stank like burnt hair and old beer, but it was nice to know we’d moved up in the world.

“I wonder what happened to Heathenistic Bile,” I mused to Fern as we got dressed. I was wearing my white bloody socks and sneakers, and she wore black fishnet tights with black boots, but the matching plaid dresses and blouses looked great. Fern was looking in her compact mirror, applying dark lipstick.

“Who knows,” she muttered. “Remember how that guy kept going on about how they had all this label interest or whatever? Maybe they’re rich and famous by now.”

“Oh, I bet.” Muffled through the club walls, we heard a tremendous cheer as Torn Bowel evidently took the stage. I sighed as they launched into their first song. “How cool is it to be back here at this club? Robbie was saying it sold out. Remember there were twenty people here last year?”