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Evan
“Do you think we’ll get to meet the band?” Nat asks, holding up two different shirts in front of the long double mirrors. My head lolls to the side, but I don’t sit up. I follow her from my side-ways world, laying like a starfish on the tacky comforter.
“I dunno,” I say, pointing to the shirt on the left half-heartedly because it’s guaranteed she’s going to put them both down and pick two new ones. Nattie isn’t vain, she’s indecisive. She’s also probably nervous, but so am I. Neither one of us are what one would call rebels.
I’ve never snuck out before, unless it was out to the backyard to study stars through my telescope. Because that’s how undeniably cool I am.
But when we found out Lemming Garden was playing a small and intimate anniversary show in Philly the night we were going to be here, even my science brain couldn’t totally deny the coincidence. I didn’t think Nat would pull it off. These guys are a huge indie band playing a small show; the odds were definitely not in our favor. But if anyone could swipe these tickets, it’s Nat.
“What would you do for a chance to meet them?” She tilts her head from side to side, before tossing the shirts on the bed and taking two more.
“What do you mean, what would I do?”
She has a super crazy serious expression. “I don’t know. Like, make out with the bouncer to take you backstage?”
My hand goes to the metal lump in my chest that I’m still not used to.
“Uh, no. No I would not do that. Would you?”
“I can’t, EJ. I’m taken,” she says flashing the little ring on her left hand. “But you wouldn’t take one for the team to get us in to meet the band?”
“Take one for the team? What is wrong with you?” I say but I’m not annoyed, I’m amused. Leave it to Nattie.
“Yeah, I knew you’d say that. So, we’ll have to find an ethical and moral way to get backstage?”
“I don’t care if it’s ethical or moral, Nat. But leave my virtue out of it.”
Both Nat and I are virgins. Nat’s waiting. I’m...I don’t know what I am. I’ve never been in a situation that forced me to think about it (the whopping two guys I’ve kissed in my life don’t count).
“Fine, your virtue is still safe. For now...” She grins.
“Thanks for looking out for me. You’re such a peach.”
She tosses her shirts at me, and they drape over my head. I shift the fabric so I can see her.
“It’s a pretty small venue, I think. There were only two-hundred tickets in print, or something. I almost had to kill a guy for these tickets, Jordans. We better frickin’ meet the band.” Nat raises her eyebrows and juts out her hip, her smooth skin and all her dramatic curves emphasizing her tone.
“Okay, whatever. If it’s such a small venue, then they will probably come out into the crowd. They do that at their concerts. Plus, they’re from here. It’s an anniversary concert. I bet they’ll know a ton of people in the crowd. I’m sure you can find a way. No one has ever denied your tenacity.” I slowly move back to a seated position. A small wave of dizziness floats through me, but I force it out with a deep breath. I’m glad Nat’s shirts are still on my head because the last thing I need right now is for her to get worried. My fingers run along my collarbone and I cross my legs under me. We’ve been looking forward to this night for weeks, and this metal box (That I didn’t want in the first place) and my busted heart aren’t going to stop me. I can’t say for sure how much longer I’m going to feel good, but I feel okay right now. So I’m not going to waste this opportunity on what-ifs.
“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Nat asks, snatching the shirts off my head and leaving my hair a static mess of waves.
“I am ready.” I gesture to my jeans and hoodie then back up and burst out laughing. Her lip is curled up, and her nose is scrunched on one side, like I’m a tangle of hair she pulled from the shower drain.
“What if we actually do meet the band?”
I gasp. “Is there something wrong with the way I look, Natalie Russo? Do you not love me just the way I am?” I press my hand to my chest in fake shock.
Nat sticks out her tongue and sinks down onto the edge of the bed. “Shut up. You know that’s not what I meant.”
She spins the little silver ring on her finger, and I avert my eyes. A rare moment of awkwardness suddenly passes between us, and I slowly lean back against the headboard. She glances at me once, her eyes settling on my hand, still against my chest.
Realization comes over me, and a long sigh compresses my chest, filling the room.
“What is it?” I ask, poking her leg with my toe.
“Nothing.” Nat flops down on her back, hanging her head over the edge of the small bed, her hair nearly touching the floor.
“It’s not nothing. What do you want to say?” My fingers lightly tap along my collarbone against the bulging ICD, the hunk of metal pushing its way out from the inside. I already sense that’s what she wants to talk about. The sounds of our favorite band pulses through the thickening air, clothes are strewn all over the overpriced hotel room, the TV is on mute, playing reruns of some vampire drama on MTV, and my best friend is falling into weirdness. My best friend who doesn’t often do weirdness.
Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own things that I completely forget about her guarded soul. Behind the sarcasm and giggles, Nat is a raw heart, feeling so much more than she lets on, thinking about so much more than boys and fun.
“Are you really up for this?” The words are rushed; the doubt that creeps into her voice makes my heart beat a little faster.
“Of course I am.”
“But you keep touching it. Does it hurt?”
I consider lying. Saying I’m totally fine. “A little. But I’ve been through worse.”
We sit quietly for a few minutes more before she sighs.
“This isn’t going to fix you, is it?” She says it quietly. I shake my head.
“I still going to need a new heart, Nattie. You know that.” I want to sound brave because bravery is for other people. I learned that right away. I don’t act brave for me; I act brave for her.
“I know. It’s just...” She spins the ring on her finger more furiously until I reach forward and grab her hands. “What if something happens?”
“The whole reason I let my dad convince me to get this stupid thing is because it’s supposed to make me less afraid. Not more. It can sense if my heart is stopping. I have my own personal EMT implanted in my chest that goes CLEAR and zaps me anytime my heart tries to trick my body into dying. I will still need a new heart, but this is supposed to buy me some time. So let’s use that time.”
Natalie thinks it over. “I never thought I’d see the day that you would be advocating sneaking out.”
“You and me both. But nothing is keeping me from this concert.”
“I worry about you.”
“Don’t, okay?” I say, patting her hand. “Only worry about the band. I mean, what would they think if they met you, and you were wearing Yoga pants...?” I snap the fabric of her sweats at her knee. She smacks my hand and rolls off the bed, crawling over to her overflowing suitcase.
Subject successfully avoided.
5:07 PM
Nat and I wander into the hotel restaurant almost ten minutes late, and I can see the annoyance on Mom’s features. Robbie, the beef-cake boyfriend, on the other hand, smiles and stands to greet us.
“Hi, girls,” he says with his bleached teeth and chiseled jaw.
Robbie holds my chair out for me, and I reluctantly thank him. I hate him... but I wish it was easier to hate him. He tries so hard to get me to like him it’s almost pathetic, but I can see it in his face that the effort is genuine, and I question my convictions, hating him even more. I think he’s awkward because of my condition, because of Dad, well, because of a lot of things. We’ve only ever breached the homewrecker conversation once, and when I accused him of destroying my family, he responded by saying, “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone Evan, but when you fall in love, nothing else seems to matter.” If that’s true, then love is synonymous with betrayal, and I want nothing to do with it.
I snap back to attention when Mom tilts her head in annoyance.
“Sorry we’re late. Nat couldn’t decide what pants to wear.” I throw Nat under the bus because Mom never stays mad when it’s Nat.
“You couldn’t decide on pants for dinner?" Robbie scrunches his eyebrows, and Nat kicks me under the table. I heft the menu up and set it on the table as a shield against my smile and make a face at Nat. She snorts as she tries to hold in a giggle, and I do, too. There’s a huge clock hanging over the fireplace at the restaurant and my eyes are drawn there every couple seconds. All I can think is two more hours. I nod toward the clock, and Nat bites on her lip.
“I know, right?” she whispers, practically vibrating. Why did we have to come for dinner with Mom anyway? I should have gotten out of it. Faked sick or something.
“What has gotten into you girls?” Mom sips her wine and leans in, like she wants in on our gossip.
“Nothing.” I settle my face into a neutral stare, lowering my menu, and Mom sighs a very small sigh. Because it’s my fault that we can’t get along. Apparently.
No one else speaks until we have drinks and have given our food orders.
5:17 PM
“So, Evan, you heading off to space camp this year?” Robbie breaks the silence, drinking his beer and leaning into me like he is really interested in what I have to say.
“I go every year.” My voice is stale, and I don’t look away from the clock. This time, I think it’s Mom who kicks me under the table, so I continue. “Yeah, there’s supposed to be this huge solar storm in July. It should be cool.”
There. I tried.
“That does sound cool. What exactly is a solar storm?”
Nat groans and mumbles in Spanish next to me, but I get this bubbling in my stomach that I get whenever anyone asks about the sky. I turn into this super nerd, know-it-all.
“Mostly solar flares, but this one is supposed to be a huge Coronal Mass Ejection, which should be awesome because the camp has a white light coronograph—”
“English, Jordans,” Nat interjects, and Robbie is already leaning back in his seat, his solid blue eyes shadowed in disinterest.
My fingers go to my collarbone, and I gently feel the outline of the ICD pacemaker. Mom glares at me, and I drop my hand to my lap.
“Fine, seeing as neither of you paid attention in Sixth Grade science...” I start, and Robbie laughs, the muscles in his neck flexing all gross-like.
“That was a long time ago, kiddo.”
I immediately exchange glances with Nat who struggles to keep her features neutral. My eyes shift to Mom, whose features have all scrunched up into an angry knot. The smile is forced off my face before I even get a chance to silently mock Robbie for being so much younger than Mom.
“Right. Anyway. Coronal Mass Ejections are particles, protons and ions and such, that get shot out into space by the sun. Either by flares or windstorms. They mess with the magnetic fields of the earth. Cause geomagnetic storms in the earth’s atmosphere. That kind of stuff.”
Natalie lets her elbow slip off the table dramatically and jolts her body like she was falling asleep, and I shove her arm. She makes fun of me for Space Camp, but she’s always asking me about constellations. She loves the drama and romance of the stories, though, not the science.
Robbie is still smiling but it’s stale, like he doesn’t care anymore. I glance at the clock and tap my fingernails on the wood table.
5:23 PM
“Geomagnetic storms cause the Northern Lights. It’s the reaction of solar particles hitting the magnetic fields around the earth. Which are stronger at the poles, hence, the Northern Lights...”
Recognition comes back into Robbie’s eyes, but all I notice is Mom’s bored expression searching the restaurant, as if frantically trying to get the attention of our waiter so she doesn’t have to listen to me.
“Northern Lights are super cool.” Robbie gets points for at least listening.
“Yeah, super cool.” I glance to the clock that I am now starting to think is taunting me.
5:25 PM
“What about you Natalie?” Mom apparently gives up on the waiter and goes for the straight up subject change. Natalie is drumming her fingers on the table to the tune of her favorite Lemming Garden song, and she jumps at Mom’s voice.
“Sorry, what?” Nat glances at me, and we fight back our excitement. Dinner with Mom was a bad idea.
“Are you still with that boy you were seeing?”
Natalie puts her hands on the table in a manner that is so painfully obvious to me, spinning the little ring on her finger.
“Aaron and I are still together, yeah.” She feigns indifference to the question, but she loves talking about Aaron. I would know. I’ve been listening to it for three years.
“That’s wonderful, dear. How is he enjoying college?” Now it’s mine and Robbie’s turn to wonder where our waiter is. Maybe I have more in common with him than I thought. I scan the restaurant and get stuck at the clock.
5:27 PM
“Aaron says it’s pretty tough. Finals are right now so I don’t talk to him very much at all.” Nat’s smile falters for only a second, but I’ve known Nat for far too long to miss the small nuances of her expressive face.
“You never told me that,” I cut in, and Nat’s gaze flickers to my chest.
“It’s no big deal. He’s really busy. College is way harder than high school.” She says it like she has experienced it firsthand. “So what ballet are you going to?” Nat changes the subject as the waiter brings us our food.
5:28 PM
Nat throws me a small eyebrow twitch while Mom is distracted, saying we’re done with the awkward attempts at conversation and moving on to more important things. Like finding out the exact details of their night so we can plan our escape accordingly. Nat talks to Mom.
I pick at my food and watch the clock.
5:32 PM
5:36 PM
5:37 PM
5:38 PM
Six o’clock cannot come fast enough...