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“Glad you liked the show,” I say again, suddenly aware of the tone of my voice.
“Yeah,” she says as she exhales again. “Really good sound on that amp. The sound guy here is really good. Carl? You know him?”
“Yeah, sure, Carl.”
She gazes out into the parking lot with her cigarette at cheek level, squinting. “They always get good bands here on Friday.”
“Yeah.”
I’m not sure if her demeanor changed or what, but I definitely had a different vibe from her at the bar. Did I do something? Should I not have asked her out here? Maybe I should explain.
“Sure was getting loud in there,” I shrug, digging my Marlboros out of my breast pocket so I have something to do with my hands.
She winks at me. “Kind of the point, right? Bands? They’re easier to hear when they are loud.”
“Heh. Yeah.”
The other band starts up, and I can hear them from far away, sort of tinny and comical at this distance.
“So, what’s your major?”
“Oh, music,” she shrugs. “Can’t you tell?”
I feel my eyebrows go up. “Tell? Was there something about you that says music major?”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on!” she huffs. “Hanging out at Brodie’s on a Friday night? Sound guy boyfriend? Black eyeliner? Nine Inch Nails T-shirt? Don’t I look like the quintessential music major?”
“Oh, ha-ha,” I laugh thinly, vaguely aware of everything that she said, with the word boyfriend standing out like a neon sign.
“Classical music, of course,” she sniffs as she takes another long drag. “But this is really living, you know what I mean? I mean you can’t really be an artist if you haven’t lived, right?”
“Yeah, sure,” I smile, though my face feels a little wooden right now. “Why would you come to Brodie’s if you weren’t interested in living?”
She points at me with a cigarette in her fingers. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! You really get me, Chuck.”
“It’s Clay, actually,” I mumble as the door swings open and my band bursts through.
Ron grins at me as Mike snatches my guitar case out of my hands.
“No, he’s—” Ron starts.
“—Right behind you,” I finish, cutting him off. “Nice to meet you, Brenda.”
“It’s Bonnie!” she huffs as we hurry away, her voice thin on the night air.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Ron hisses as he swings his bass guitar into the back of Mike’s Honda. “She was hot!”
“Fucking music majors, man,” I scoff. “You should try for her next time. Let’s get out of here.”
I fling open the passenger door and drop into the seat before Ron can make eye contact with me again. I hear him promise to give Bonnie or Brenda or whatever her name is a shot next time he sees her, and that’s fine with me. I guess I’m not getting that twenty bucks either.
Whatever.
Chapter 4
Penny
I hear a key in the lock and the door swings open. Slowly the guitar case enters first and then Clay’s tousled, dark hair as he carefully, quietly looks inside. His head swivels from side to side, from the still-untouched kitchen table to me on the couch with my heels tucked under my thighs. His eyes open wider.
