AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Belle is back. She’s coming with us on tour.” I shake my head and look down at my feet. “Someone hurt her, Ez. Heput his hands on her and all I see when I think about it is red. I want to fucking kill him.”
There’s so much more I want to say to him. I want to tell him about Mom, about my own shit. I keep it in, feeling like if I say it, he’ll somehow hear it. He’ll know I failed him, our parents. Hell, I feel like I failed Belle in some way too.
So instead of voicing everything, I stand and shove my freezing hands into my jacket pockets.
“I miss you, Ez.God, do I miss you.”
“Open up, Mav!” I yell as I bang on the door. “I’m not leaving until you let me in!”
“I’m fucking coming, Kai! Chill.”
Maverick’s door swings open to reveal him dressed neatly in a blue long-sleeve shirt and jeans. Not what I was expecting. He moves to the side so I can enter his house. His hair is messy and curls around his ears, but it’s clean. His brown eyes have that haunted look they always do when he has too much alone time.
“Cal beat you to it this time,” he says, answering my unasked question.
Maverick has a hard time being home. I think if he had his way, we would always be on the road, and he would never have to set foot in this town again. He was close friends with Ezra and took his loss really hard. His relationship with his parents isn’t great either, but I’ve never been able to get him to open up about it. I know enough from town gossip to guess.
I always check on him while we’re home. Usually, itconsists of forcing him to shower and throwing away all his takeout containers. I’ve tried to get him to move in with me. It’s not like I don’t have the room, and I like the idea of having someone that was close to my brother around while we’re home. He always refuses, though. Says he doesn’t want to be a burden.
“Are you all packed? The flight leaves early tomorrow.”
Mav rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mom. I packed my bag for the sleepover.”
I chuckle as I walk by him and into the living room. Where my house has black floors and white walls, Mav did the opposite. His walls are black, and his floors are white. I’m expecting a mess, but everything is clean. Someone even folded the throw blanket he keeps on his couch.
“He brought Belle,” Mav says, answering my thoughts yet again.
“Ah,” is all that comes out.
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between the two of you? She already quit the band before you came begging at my door to get me to join.”
I look over at him to see him smirking. I did pretty much beg him. He only agreed when I told him Ezra really wanted him to join and was even showing us videos of the two of them playing together in their dorm. Mav is amazing on the bass and deserved to be a part of our band. He just felt like he was taking Ezra’s place and had a hard time coming to terms with that.
“There isn’t much to say. She bailed on us and that’s it.”
“Ezra would hate the way you’ve treated her.” His words are like a punch to the gut.
“I know. It’s complicated.” Complicated doesn’t evenbegin to explain my feelings towards Belle, towards the entire situation, but it’s the most I’m willing to give him right now. The love and resentment I feel towards Belle is almost identical to the love and resentment I feel towards Ezra. It’s so beyond complicated, and I don’t have the strength to unpack it.
Mav arches an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but doesn’t push me on it. It’s an unspoken rule we have in our friendship. We’ve become really close over the years and talk all the time. But if a subject comes up that we don’t want to talk about, the other doesn’t push.
“Cal asked me to stay with them tonight, but I told him I was staying at yours.”
I nod and shove my hands in my pockets. I want to tell him he can go over to Cal’s, but I like the tradition of him spending the night before we go on tour with me. We always watch Ezra’s favorite movie (Monty Python and the Holy Grail) and eat his favorite food (chicken broccoli alfredo) while talking about our happy memories with him.
“Come on. Let’s load my bag into your stupid car, and I’ll order the food on the way,” he says, grabbing his leather jacket.
“My car is not stupid,” I grumble. It’s a two-seater that goes way too fast and isn’t great in the snow. Was it a stupid purchase for someone living in Maine? Probably, but I love it.
“We barely fit into the damn thing. You didn’t need to be a stereotype and buy a sports car. Cars that fit tall people are just as nice.”
I just shake my head and leave him to his teasing. Our tour manager made the rounds this morning and picked upour luggage and instruments. Lucky for me, otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to fit it all in my car, and I would never hear the end of it.
“Hey, did I tell you about that time Ezra and I got caught walking back to our dorms drunk by campus police?”
I smile at his question. This is exactly what I need; a night listening to my brother’s best friend talk about him, so that I can feel close to him again.
six
