Sam

  It’s not long before a good thing crashes, is it? I mean, it’s not like I didn’t know it was coming. It always does. It’s always like this. We go out on stage and we pump out that chemistry, the kind that leaves people with so much to say about us.

  Look at them...such good friends...so in sync with each other, it’s insane.

  Yeah, we bring that insane energy to stage, and then inevitably Adam finds a woman he’s taken with and leaves me in the cold.

  And believe me, it does feel cold.

  He still does his thing with me, of course, because that’s our gimmick. Stage is the place we can play with boundaries, let our sweaty bodies get close, our hearts pound, and our voices strain. I live for those moments, the ones where I’m on my back paying no mind to a filthy stage floor, fingering the strings of my guitar while he bends over me and screams guttural into the mic. It’s like a rehearsal in my mind, being like that together.

  But it always feels kind of fake to me after he finds a girl. I don’t enjoy it. The thrill of being close to my straight-as-an-arrow best friend falls away. Why...why do I have to love him like I do? Why haven’t I gotten over it after sixteen empty years? I hate it, honestly. It’s hell. Every day of my life is this endless hell where we orbit each other, anchoring ourselves around the central point of our friendship, indulging our vices to numb the craved intimacy we can’t find anywhere else.

  The sex he has, there’s no way it’s intimate. I know mine isn’t. It never is. It never was. I have no idea what it’s like to be touched by someone I give a damn about.

  But I try not to be an asshole, right?

  I’m always trying. Always pushing. Always striving to get every moment of my life right. I hide while I struggle. I’m the steady one between us. I’m the one who stands up straight in a blizzard of alcohol-fueled decisions through long nights. I’m the one who digs my heels into the ground, grits my teeth, and forces down the waves I feel in my heart and my soul. Until I can’t. Until I break and I’m on my back just so I can see what he’d look like on top of me; when I crack open so wide I let a stranger fill that space instead. Or alcohol. Or whatever. I always get numb when I try to forget Adam.

  Like I could.

  I never do.

  So, anyway, we move through our little act. Everyone’s buzzing when the show’s over, and I pretend I am, too. Hide yourself, Sam. It’s not safe enough for truth.

  Sean, our drummer, and Candi, our bassist, make up for the places I falter. They’re married. No kids. Music is their baby. Music is their life. They’re the same age as Adam and me, but somehow more grounded, more mature. I’m 33 years old now...you’d think I could be something like that. I’m not, though. I’m still the same old me, doing the same old things, loving the same stupid man that will never love me back. I don’t have the right parts. Obviously I don’t.

  I’m staying away from alcohol when we funnel backstage to a secluded, roped-off area where the bus is waiting. Aiden’s hovering in the back with me. Sean and Candi are looking like they’re on a mission to get away. I don’t blame them. If I had a spouse, I’d be sneaking off with him, too; working off that buzz, pouring the life of that music into another’s soul.

  However, before they can effectively pry themselves away, there’s a sudden movement in the bushes beside us. Adam actually screams, high-pitched, like a girl. I can’t help but grin. I love when he makes sounds like that.

  That grin quickly fades, of course, when I realize it’s that copper-headed woman he was making eyes at up on stage. She’s got a guy with her, a soft one. One that, when he speaks, anxiously apologizing for the strange behavior from his sister (that’s what he says anyway), I can tell is gay because he has that tone of voice. He’s cute. Might be a nice distraction, but I don’t know, it’s kind of...um...stalker-ish that his sister, Amy apparently, has psychotically leaped from the bushes for a piece of Adam.

  I lower my eyes. I can’t help but feel sick while things quickly and predictably go the way they do. I’m not sure if anyone ever notices it. I only indulge my sorrow for a moment, just long enough to lift my eyes and meet Adam’s. I know he’ll see disapproval on my face, but that’s not what it is. It’s this tugging in my chest, so powerful I want to reach my hands out, to follow, to push that woman aside and put my tongue inside his mouth. It’s not sexual. I mean, it is...I guess. I do want that. But it’s more. It’s...I want...

  ...I feel like I’m going to cry so I clear my throat instead.

  I pull out a cigarette and slink away. Aiden disapproves of Adam’s antics, so he likely reads my body language the same. He’s vented to me about it before. I’ve listened, but I never offer much because he and Adam get along about as well as rednecks and grizzlies, and I don’t want fuck-all to do with any of it. I get tired of their arguing.

  Besides, even if it shreds my guts, I’m always on Adam’s side.

  I lean against the back of the club we just played. I close my eyes, light the cigarette, and take a delicious drag. It settles me some. I slide down the wall and indulge it, focusing on nothing else. At least until I hear the conversation stop between the cute brother, Aiden, Sean, and Candi. I look up and run my hand through my hair. Candi and Sean are gone. Aiden’s on his phone, probably checking on his dad. The brother notices me and smiles. I can’t help but smile back.

  I study his face carefully when he approaches. His eyes are big, but not overly. They’re brown, like his sister’s. He's got a long face like hers, too. His hair is the color of his eyes, though, not bright like Amy’s.

  Amy, Amy, Amy...I’ll bet Adam’s whispering that name into her ear right about now.

  My stomach rolls again.

  Cute Brother sits beside me, pulling his knees to his chest like a child. I like the insecure way his body speaks. I overcompensate with confidence I don’t necessarily feel, kicking off some conversation while I smoke and act casual.

  “She do this sort of thing often?” I nod toward the bus.

  Thank God the lights are off and I can’t see their silhouettes.

  “No, God, no...she’s...” he sighs, “our family’s been going through some things, and she’s always been so obsessed with that dude...” his voice trails off.

  “Hmmm,” is all I offer, just an acknowledgment of sorts.

  I don’t know him. I don’t know her. I don’t have a clue what I should say. We sit awkwardly for a while before he speaks up again.

  “My name’s Jayson, by the way...Jay for short.”

  “Samuel...people call me Sam.”

  He nods. I smirk and hold out my hand like, duh, you should’ve offered. He blushes, and I like that, too. He shakes my hand more firmly than I expect and we quickly release.

  “So, what about you? Fucked up family situation got you looking for comfort, too?”

  He cocks a brow and smiles, but it’s sweeter than mine.

  “No, I don’t do that kind of thing. You? You’re famous...?”

  I snort when I laugh, which makes me blush a bit. I clear my throat and play it off.

  “No, no. Well...I mean, yes and no. I hook up, but not with fans. Never with anyone who knows who I am. I find people when I have needs.”

  Jay’s eyeing me intently, playful and interested. “No relationships?”

  I shake my head again, “My heart only beats for a person I can never have, darling.”

  I throw that in to lighten the heaviness...and...okay, to flirt a little, too.

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  His face remains soft and friendly, “Unrequited love? How long?”

  I sigh, exhaling smoke and letting my eyes rest on the bus.

  “A lifetime.”

  Jayson looks down at his lap then, chewing the side of his cheek, “That’s awfully sad.”

  I nod, “I’m awfully sad.”

  He looks toward me again. I don’t look back, but I can feel it. I shouldn’t be talking like this. I don’t even know him.

  “Anyway, enough about me. What, uh...what’s next for you guys, after your sister’s, like...done with Adam...”

  Jay visibly cringes, “I don’t even get it. What’s the big deal about that guy?”

  Huh?

  I look at him quizzically, and he smiles broadly.

  “He’s kind of...you know, a little thick around the waist is all. I mean, his face is cute enough, and he’s kind of dapper looking, I guess, but...well, if I’m honest, you’re better looking.”

  Ohhhh...so you’re flirting with me, too...

  I smile and take one last puff of my cigarette. I flick it down and smash it beneath my boot. He’s asking me. He’s asking me if I’m into that sort of thing, and I’m not sure what to say because I’m careful about that. No one knows this about me, no one except one of my sisters, the men that I’ve bedded, and Candi. I had to tell her. She, um, caught me once with one of those distractions.

  Her lips are sealed, of course. And so are the men I’ve made sure have no clue who I am, who I give a fake name to. I’ve only trusted one so far with any semblance of fact or truth about who I am, and he’s currently standing across from me, smoking cigarettes with his band, glancing my way because he’s probably worried about me flirting. I don’t owe him anything, though. He doesn’t owe me anything, either. We just come together because neither of us has anyone else. It’s physical, that’s all.

  Purely physical.

  But this guy here? Yeah, all I know about him is that his sister’s clearly got some issues, and he’s interested in, I don’t know, maybe exchanging blow jobs.

  “So...anyway, where you headed after this?” I circle back to my original question.

  I’m sure he can tell I’m tempted. Kindly, he drops it. Either that or he might buy that I’m straight. Lots of people do.

  Well, everyone does, really.

  “Um...a-ha...I didn’t answer you before because I’m kind of embarrassed about it...”

  I look at him with interest, “Oh?”

  He hesitates, biting his full lower lip in a way that makes me want to bite it, too.

  He is very cute.

  “Well, like I said...we’re going through some things and...anyway, Ames has this whole plan to follow you guys on tour...and I didn’t want her going alone because, I mean, I don’t know this Adam guy...and I don’t want her in clubs all across the country without someone there to look out for her...so, I’m here. I took some time off work, and I’m here, following a band I’ve never listened to before.”

  I digest it. Weird. Creepy. Hmmm...

  “You should listen to us. We’re not bad,” I say, almost absent-minded.

  I’m here, kind of.

  He shifts uncomfortably before I look at him and start asking more questions. “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a marine biologist...well, I was. I quit to do this...um...well, other reasons, too. Like I said. Stuff.”

  He clearly doesn’t want to say. Fine. I won’t pry into that can of worms. But the gears in my head are really spinning. My heart’s kind of racing. I think my hands are shaking, too.

  “Your sister’s pretty into Adam...?”

  He nods, “Yeah...she has it in her head that, um...God, this is embarrassing...but she says she’s going to make him fall in love with her by the end of the tour. I didn’t think she’d actually get him into bed...so, I don’t know, maybe she’s determined enough to make that kind of crazy thing happen...” he laughs, but it’s nervous and sad.

  I really would like to kiss him for a while.

  I shrug, pretending it’s possible when I damn well know it isn’t. Adam doesn’t typically sleep with a girl more than once. Sure, sometimes there are bartenders he'll regularly tap, but only if they understand how meaningless it is to him. This girl, obviously, thinks she’s going to connect with him...change him...make him into a person capable of giving love that, by all indications, he is not.

  Adam lives his life behind a carefully constructed wall...the kind that keeps his heart firmly from harm’s way.

  I know why he’s like that.

  Life hurts, even for the people who try to convince themselves it can’t.

  “What if...uh...I mean, it’s got to cost a fortune for you guys to follow us...?” I say before I can really think.

  He looks at me uncertain.

  I swallow and make myself keep going, forcing myself to say this stupid thing I shouldn’t, this idiotic, moronic, reeks-of-desperation last attempt at doing something to stop Adam from stabbing my heart over and over and over again all summer long.

  Please, love...stop...just stop. I can only afford to bleed so much over here.

  “You should just, like, join us. There’s space in the bus. It’s huge...and I can double with Adam when we have nights at hotels...you and Amy can take my room.”

  Jayson looks shocked. Rightfully so. I know this is the sort of thing fans dream about being offered. Things like this don’t happen. Famous people aren't stupid enough to let stalkers into their private world.

  Except I am because I think she’s obsessive enough to interfere with his vices, and If he can come out of that endless void of sex for a little air, maybe, just maybe, he’ll see my guts on the floor.

  “I don’t know...um...she’s...”

  “Nah, I’m not worried about it. It’s fine...” I glance at him, realizing I need to justify this somehow, “...Adam could use the lesson.”

  Jay looks like he thinks he understands, but he doesn’t, of course. He doesn’t know for sure I’m not straight. He definitely doesn’t know I’m in love with Adam. All he knows is, vaguely, I don’t like what Adam’s up to. When Jayson looks at me and accepts my offer, it’s obvious he doesn’t like what Adam’s up to either.

  “Okay then...” he says with a disbelieving shake of the head.

  “Okay then,” I echo, lighting up another cigarette.

  I watch Adam and Amy finally exit the bus. Her hair is a mess. She’s smiling and beautiful. He’s obviously in a hurry to get away from her. Jayson rushes to her side, and Adam comes straight to me.

  Me: the other half of our fucked up entanglement with the things we never say.

  I rise to my feet and keep that nicotine flowing. I’m terrified to tell him because, I’m not crazy, I know this was beyond stupid. I almost want to kick my own ass for this stunt.

  “She’s a weird one...” he declares, holding out two fingers.

  I give him a cigarette and light it for him. He’s smirking while he puffs. It’s not long before he realizes something’s up with me.

  He always knows me and my moods. Everything except that one...endless...

  I put my hand to my forehead. He doesn’t need to ask. His face is inquiry enough.

  “I did something really...fucked...”

  He raises a brow, “Oh?”

  I shake my head, “No. It’s not fun. You’re not gonna like it.”

  He shifts, taking me more seriously. I dig one of my nails into my arm while I smoke.

  “So...I was talking to her brother, Jayson, there...and he said they’re following us for the whole tour...”

  Adam rolls his eyes, “Oh great...you know...she’s, like...she’s a bit much. She was really in my face after we were done there...talking a million miles an hour...couldn’t get her to shut up, so I just walked her outside and ran!” he chuckles at the end, forgetting his distaste in an instant.

  He’s squirrelly like that. His brain’s always jumping from one thing to the next. ADHD. He’s not focused or slow the way that I am.

  I draw in a breath for courage.

  “I kind of...um...invited them to hitch a ride with us, since, you know, it’s expensive to follow...and her brother’s pretty nice...and...”

  “What the fuck? Are you insane?”

  “I know, I know...I’m sorry...”

  “What, are you smitten with her or something? Because if you want her, I mean, have at her, dude...but don’t rope me into it!”

  I shake my head adamantly, “No, no, no...I’m not into her. I was just...I don’t know, I guess I’m still buzzing from being on stage...I was feeling generous. Trust me, I regretted it the second the words left my mouth...but...now...” I look over at them.

  She’s shivering with excitement. She waves at Adam and blows him a kiss. He raises his hand and pretends to catch it because he doesn’t want to be unkind. He’s a dog, but he’s a nice one.

  “Well, fuck, Sammy...what am I gonna do about her?”

  I shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe, just, like...have one person to screw around with for once...” I say it like a joke.

  I don’t want him to do that. I don’t want him to get overly involved with her. Fuck, what if he does, though? Why didn’t I think of that?

  I feel a little relieved when he responds with an emphatic, “No-ho-hooooo.”

  “What? She’s alright...” I offer, knowing damn well she really is.

  She’s the kind of woman I hate to see him with. Young. Pretty. Curvy in a flawless way. I know that I’d want her if I were straight.

  “Yeah, her body’s rockin’, but that mouth of hers is not. Nu-uh. She’s just gonna have to deal. Besides, I got Brandy waiting at the next stop...”

  “You can’t give it a night?” I quip, pretending it’s lighthearted.

  He sighs and ruffles my hair, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy...always so worried about what I’m doing.”

  I shrug, “It’s not good for you, you know.”

  He drops his cigarette and stomps it, then plucks mine from my mouth and does the same, “Neither is this.”

  God, I love you.

  “Vices,” I relent.

  “Vices, Sammy. Vices.”

  I nod and let it go. There’s nothing else I can say about it. Adam puts his arm around my shoulders and casually makes light of the situation, showing some mercy toward me for the awful thing I’ve done. He’ll explain it to the others, and I’m grateful when he does. We show the siblings where to sleep, in bunks just above Adam and Me. Ours are on the floor across from one another. We roll off into the night, lights passing through tiny windows. As per usual, Candi's snores fill up the air. She’s a beast like that sometimes.

  Soon enough, almost everyone falls asleep, so I put on my headphones and listen to raw cuts of the songs I’ve written with Oliver. I feel his eyes on me, though, and it gets my attention. We keep our curtains open every night, just in case, you know, one of us needs the other. He smiles. I wonder how long he’s been looking at me like that. I wonder what he thinks in these quiet moments. Does he think about holding me? Touching me? Putting his lips on mine?

  No. I don’t believe he does.

  I smile at him through the hollow sadness in my chest.

  “Goodnight,” I say quietly.

  “Goodnight,” he softly responds before contentedly closing his eyes.

  I watch the lights and shadows dance while we log miles. I eventually hear him slip into a deep sleep. Once I know it’s safe, I turn to my side, rest my hands beneath my cheek, and stare at him.

  I wish I could tell you. I wonder what you’d do. Would you stop? Would you notice me? Or would you run far away and never come back?

  Probably the latter. That’s why I have to keep these eviscerating secrets so dark and close. I’d rather watch you kiss other mouths forever than risk the chance of losing you for good.

  And so I’ll live behind it, Adam.

  I’ll live behind a gutting wall of wanted things that I know I’ll never say.