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“No, we’re not. I was actually just leaving.”
Senia grabs my arm. “No, we’re not. We’re just getting some drinks. Today’s Claire’s twenty-first birthday.”
She casts Joanie a deadly look, daring her to fuck up my birthday. Joanie sighs, already bored with us, when Adam appears at my side.
“Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and Joanie’s eyes light up at the sight of him.
“I’m fine.”
I can’t leave now. Joanie is bound to run onto the stage and scream my secrets into the microphone if we’re not here to stop her. And she’d love to point out to Chris that I’m here with someone else—not that he’d care. I’m sure he’s moved on—many times.
“I think I need a drink,” I say, looking up at Adam.
He scrunches his eyebrows together. “Are you sure?”
I nod. It’s about the only thing I’m sure of right now.
“Enjoy the show, Joanie,” I say as I push Adam toward the bar.
I don’t want to introduce him to Joanie. The last thing I need is for her to pretend she’s drunk so she can accidentally spill some secrets like she did at Senia’s birthday party our freshman year—before I knew Joanie was only pretending to be my friend so she could get close to Chris.
Adam orders us both a beer then glares at me as he leans up against the bar. “Something’s wrong.”
The impulsive side of my brain is screaming at me to just tell him. This night is going to suck whether I tell him or not. The rational side of my brain is begging me to keep my mouth shut. I finally have someone who makes me feel happy; someone who might understand the mistakes I’ve made if I tell him in a more neutral environment. This is definitely not the place to come clean.
“I’m fine. I’m just really excited.” I take a swig of the beer, which is bitter and kind of gross compared to the sweet champagne.
The sound crew finishes setting up the instruments on stage and I can feel the anticipation building in the crowd.
“Let’s go see if we can squeeze in closer to the stage,” he says, grabbing my hand.
“No!” Senia and I shout in unison.
Adam and Eddie glare at us.
“We should stay next to the bar in case Claire wants to get shitfaced for her birthday,” Senia says.
“Yeah, I may want to get shitfaced.”
Adam shakes his head. “You are not getting drunk tonight.”
“It’s my birthday and I’m twenty-one. I think that’s my decision, buddy.”
He frowns at me. He knows something is up. I’m not acting like myself. I set the glass of beer on the counter and flag the bartender down to ask him for some water.
Adam leans close to me, puts his lips next to my ear, and whispers, “Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
The bartender looks at me and I shout, “A glass of water, please!”
The bartender looks annoyed at my request, but he quickly fills a glass with some ice and water and slides it across to me. I take a long swig, letting the icy liquid cool the spicy food, and the secrets, burning inside me. I don’t feel well.
I turn to Adam and his nose bumps mine. I can feel the heat of his breath on my mouth and I want to kiss him—not just to make him forget about the question he just asked. I want to kiss him to burn the memory of his lips into my brain because I have a bad feeling everything is going to change after tonight.
“Can we talk about it after the show?” I ask, and my stomach clenches as I realize this is not a stall tactic. I’m ready to tell him. I will tell him everything.
He nods then plants a soft kiss on my lips. I set my glass of water down on the bar and throw my arms around his neck. I need to feel his warmth. He wraps his arms around my waist and chuckles in my ear.
The crowd behind me explodes with cheers and applause and I know what I’m going to see if I let go of Adam and turn around. I tighten my grip on his neck as my heart pounds against his.
“Claire, the show’s starting,” he says, his voice strained from how tightly I’m holding onto him.
I finally release my grip and he smiles down at me as he nods toward the stage. I close my eyes as I turn around.
You can do this. Just open your eyes and get it over with.
I slowly open my eyes and there he is.
Chapter Nineteen
Relentless Music
The blue spotlights cast a melancholy glow over the stage as Chris positions himself on his stool in front of the microphone. The drummer behind him is ready to go. It’s Jake. I turn to the guy holding the bass guitar on Chris’s right and I see Tristan. Jake and Tristan are Chris’s old band mates who he basically dumped to go solo last year. It seems they were able to set aside the colossal grudge they’ve been carrying to play this gig.
Chris finally looks up from his guitar and my heart flutters. He looks exactly the same as he did a year ago. The same messy brown hair; the same dark eyes that turn down slightly at the corners, giving him that lost puppy dog look; the same full lips I’ve kissed a million times. I can’t see if he still has the nose piercing, but I can see the light glinting off a new lip piercing. He’s even wearing a ratty black UNC hoodie he wore when we were together. I don’t know why I expected him to look different. I’ve been carefully avoiding his music videos and magazine articles, though I did read the Rolling Stone article only because it was in the employee restroom at the café for weeks and I was feeling a bit masochistic that day.
I glance around the room and everybody is so excited. You can feel the energy in the air shifting, as if everybody in this room is holding their breath waiting for those first few notes. The ticking sound of Jake’s drumsticks tapping the rim of the drum
focus my attention back on the stage.
Finally, Chris brings his lips to the microphone and speaks in that soothing voice with just a hint of a rasp. “What’s up, Raleigh?”
The crowd cheers and some people shout back, “What’s up, Chris?”
I feel as if I’m fifteen again and watching him play on the living room floor for the first time when he played In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. Chris was always light-years ahead of his band mates—an old soul. He loved classic rock and blues. He made me listen to Miles Davis’ greatest hits over and over until I could name each song just from hearing the first few notes. He was obsessed with music and that obsession made his dreams a reality.
A tear slides down my cheek as my heart swells with pride. I made the right decision breaking up with Chris. If he had stayed in Raleigh, none of this would have been possible.
The first notes of the song play and it’s an up-tempo song about a girl who writes love notes. This song is not about me and, though I know it shouldn’t matter, I really don’t want to imagine it’s about a real person.
Adam slips his arms around my waist and I smile as I lean my back into his chest. He kisses the top of my head as the song changes and I hear the first few notes of “Sleepyhead.” I clench my teeth together and take a deep breath. If I can make it through this, I can make it through the rest of the night. Adam deserves it.
“You’re shaking,” Adam says in my ear, and I can barely hear him over the music.
“I’m fine!” I yell, but I don’t turn my face toward him. I’m afraid he’ll see what I’m feeling.
I do still miss Chris. This is why I never watch MTV or listen to the radio. It’s why I deleted all his songs from my music collection and stashed everything that reminds me of him in boxes that are now collecting dust in Senia’s parents’ garage. I miss him. Every day.
I close my eyes and take another deep breath as he belts the chorus with so much emotion in his voice; it’s no wonder all these girls are in love with him.
Adam leans down and presses his lips to my ear. “Remember the excuse you gave me when you rejected my offer to take you on a date?”
I think about the day he almost ran me over with his truck when I was running away from the party, and Joanie, five weeks ago. I told him I couldn’t go to lunch with him because I was sleeping in late.
It dawns on me that he’s listening to “Sleepyhead” and thinking of that day.
I turn around and face him because I can’t watch Chris and listen to this song and listen to Adam say this all at the same time. Adam lifts my chin and his eyes search my face for something. He knows something is off, but he can’t quite figure it out. I force a smile, but he doesn’t look convinced. I guzzle down the rest of my glass of water and finally the song ends. I let out a deep sigh as I turn around again.
The rest of the set is comprised of songs I don’t think were inspired by me and a few covers. I’m feeling really good about myself for making it through the entire concert until the last song starts.
I’ve never heard the title track of Chris’s album, Relentless. The single hasn’t been released yet, but as soon as I hear the first few lines, I know it’s about us.
“We kissed under the trees, and talked about missing things. I wish I could have held you in; held in the heat of your breath; held onto you and I at our best.”
I do the one thing I think can save me from this moment. I spin around, pull Adam’s face to mine, and kiss him. Not a hard, hungry kiss, but a slow, sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that makes time stop and everything disappear. All I can feel is the curve of his mouth as it fits into mine. All I can smell is the faint hint of beer on his lips. All I can taste is the slightly sweet alcohol on his tongue.
“Having fun?” Joanie shouts.
“Ouch!” Adam yelps as I accidentally bite down on the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry!” I stroke his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere behind me Joanie is watching us.
“I’m okay,” he says, then licks my cheek to prove it.
“Ew!” I squeal and he laughs.
