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CHAPTER FOUR
APRIL 2012
The opening band had begun, and the small fan base they had acquired was throwing their hands in the air and screaming wildly. I’d seen the band a couple of times before, and they were pretty good, but not worth ogling over, in my opinion.
When Asher took his hand away from mine, I wanted it back for some reason. His bright hazel eyes were focused on the stage, lips parted and eyes bulging, as if he was seeing the outside world for the first time. Even if the opening band wasn’t my favorite, there was nothing better than live music.
Nothing.
I leaned into him, because I hadn’t given him my name, and that seemed rude. “I’m Drew,” I said loudly enough for him to hear.
Asher looked back to me with a faint smile. We were almost the same height. He was a little thinner than I was, but not horribly skinny. There was something about his eyes. The hazel swirls seemingly turned darker as we occasionally made eye contact, but I figured that had to do with the stage lights that wandered over the crowd ever so often. The air felt thick as the band finished their first song.
Asher ran long fingers through his shaggy, straight hair and smirked at me. He removed a cheap flask from the waistband of his jeans and inclined his head toward mine. I couldn’t help the chuckle that came from my throat.
“What is it?” I asked, close to his ear.
“Bourbon.”
There was no way Asher was legal. Then again, neither was I. I had a guy in my Statistics class make me, my friend, and our girls some fake IDs for when we went out. They were hella real looking, and they’d worked well so far. I shrugged lightly and took the flask. The band rolled into their second song as I brought the flask to my lips and took a draw.
Beer was fine, but the bourbon was smooth. It warmed me from the inside out.
I passed the flask back to my new acquaintance. It looked like he was in a similar situation to me—the people we’d come with were talking to each other and not us.
I didn’t really mind that. My buddy, Griffin, was just that. We hung out occasionally outside of the one class we shared, but he wasn’t near and dear to me or anything. And his girlfriend, Stacy, who was always gothed up and expressionless, simply annoyed me. Sometimes I wondered if there was anything going on in Stacy’s head. Even when they made out, she just kind of sat there. As for my own girl, Emma, well… we lacked chemistry, I guess. We were good friends, and sometimes I wished we’d just left it at that. Like, why’d we have to go and make it romantic? But she was so into it when we kissed for the first time, that we’ve been together ever since, even though my heart wasn’t in it.
Two months later, and I was at a show talking with a stranger, pondering at the very back of my mind how best to break up with her. And soon. Life was too short to be with someone who didn’t make every cell in my body come alive.
Asher, his friends, and my friends stared up at the stage. I suddenly felt restless. There weren’t any stamps or wristbands to signal who and who was not of a certain drinking age, so I leaned into Asher and asked, “Want a beer, man? This band isn’t my favorite.”
He eyed the half full cup of beer in my hand but nodded. “Thanks, dude. You don’t have to if you don’t want.”
I shrugged a single shoulder. “I’ll get you one if I get another taste of that flask when I come back.”
His face broke out into a wide, crooked smile where one side of his mouth lifted more than the other, and suddenly, it felt like my world was spinning. Asher nodded in assurance that there’d be more bourbon for me when I returned.
I was jittery and needed the short walk to the bar just to move around and expend some energy. In my haste, I forgot to tell Emma where I was off to. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and shot her a quick text in case she was worried. I’d probably freak out if I turned my head and she was no longer with our group.
Before I reached the busy bar, I chugged the rest of my drink. It was a strange night. I entered the Madder Hatter excited about the concert, but with a heavy feeling of dread settled low in my stomach. I’d been ignoring the feeling for days, pushing down all my worries and hoping they’d fade away.
There were too many stressors pressed against my shoulders. Ignoring everything was just making me feel sick. I didn’t want to hurt Emma, but my heart wasn’t in it like hers was, and the longer I put off the inevitable, the more it would crush her. On top of that, my grades were dwindling down to a percentage that was hardly passable, and I didn’t even like school, so what was the point? I was only happy when I was at live shows or drumming in my parents’ basement. The constant feeling of what I wanted to do versus what I should be doing was a tiresome battle.
As I made my way through the line to the bar, Asher’s smile flashed in my head. For a fraction of a second, my shoulders eased back from where they’d been tensed near my ears, and my jaw unclenched. I didn’t know anything about the guy, but he already seemed more interesting than Griffin and his emo girlfriend.
After I ordered a couple more beers, I made my way back to the front of the stage. It was much more crowded now, and I couldn’t make out where my group was. As carefully as was possible at a punk show, I weaved myself in between the fans, trying my best not to spill the beers. I made it back to my spot beside Asher having only spilled a couple of drops on my shoes.
I handed him the beer in my right hand. “I almost got trampled by a whole hoard of women trying to get these back,” I said in his ear.
He grinned. “My hero.”
I chuckled and took a swig of my fresh beer. He took out his flask again, took a hearty sip, then passed it to me with a wink. Asher seemed to be coming more alive as the music crescendoed and as the anticipation escalated in the venue as we all realized the opening band only had a couple more songs. Then, Simple Plan would be on, and the night would truly begin.
I shook the flask, trying to get a feel for how much bourbon was left. There wasn’t much, but I’d be more than happy to go back to the bar later for some real liquor, so long as it was in between sets. I moved the flask up and took another sip but made sure the last of it was left for him.
After I handed it back and took a swig of my beer, I felt a tug on my elbow from my other side. I looked over, expecting Griffin, but there was Emma. I had a feeling that most boyfriends and girlfriends stood together more than we did. Held hands. That kind of thing. The sinking feeling of dread returned.
I crouched a bit so she could speak in my ear. “Who’s your new friend?”
