Tangled Web (12 page)

“You are desperate for tickets, aren’t you?”
Katie almost snorted. “So what’s the plan?”

“Well, I wanted to go to Sonic for a
limeade, and we’ll listen for the next chance. If I’m driving, you
can call. I have the number on speed dial.” Katie laughed and slid
in the passenger side of Heather’s Camaro convertible her father
had purchased for her several years ago after tossing her backpack
on the backseat. “And on the drive, you can tell me this ‘story’ of
yours.”

She didn’t even know how much she would wind
up revealing to Heather, so she started by telling her about how
she’d had a crush on Johnny since high school, but then she
backtracked and explained that they’d been best friends for years
before that. She told Heather about how that crush had been
unrequited for years and how no guy could even begin to erase his
memory. But then, after she turned thirty, she was finally able to
move on, she told Heather, skipping the part about Johnny’s shaking
heroin, and that’s when some weird kind of magic blossomed between
them. But she was already engaged, she told Heather. That was the
problem.

“Shit. It’s like a fairytale love story. You
seriously had the best sex with him ever?”

Katie nodded, remembering that night over a
year ago. “By far.” Katie shook her head. “He knew when, where, and
how.”

“That’s so romantic.”

Katie sat up, nudging the radio volume up a
couple of notches now that the song had ended. “That’s so not. I
was cheating on my fiancé, and I was dishonest with my best friend.
And the next day, I was so sick. Yuck.”

“But you guys finally discovered your love
for each other.”

Half of Katie’s mouth pulled down into a
frown. “Oh, yeah? Ask Johnny about that.”

Heather pulled onto the off ramp leading
them away from the freeway. “He wasn’t forgiving, I take it?”

Katie looked out the right side where a
window would normally be, the breeze kissing her face. “Not at all.
I mean, he said we were still friends, but the look on his
face...”

Heather merged into traffic on the busy
street. “Yeah, but surely he’s let it go by now. You guys have a
solid history.”

“I don’t know.”

Heather squealed and turned the radio up
higher as she pulled the car into the left-hand lane. The deejay
interrupted their conversation. “Up next... we have Shock Treatment
in the studio with us this afternoon. If you didn’t catch their
interview earlier, you might not know that after the break they
will be quizzing listeners. So, KPQI citizens, if you want to earn
some awesome tickets to see the sold out triple threat of Shock
Treatment, Bitch Slap, and Alien Invasion, stay tuned and call in
if you know the answer.”

Heather’s shoulder-length red hair flowed
behind her as she accelerated with the green light. Katie was
relieved to see Sonic ahead. Heather’s driving sometimes made her a
little queasy, and now was one of those times. Heather pulled up
into one of the parking spots. She asked Katie, “Do you want a
limeade too?”

Katie thought about it and shook her head.
“How about an iced tea?”

Heather nodded and punched the red button.
When a teenage girl’s voice came through the intercom, Heather
decided at the last second to add a large order of onion rings to
the list, and the two roommates sat in the car waiting for their
drinks, listening to insipid radio ads about male enhancement,
talking fast food, and getting out of debt.

Katie looked at Heather’s profile as the
girl turned the radio up again, another fast-food ad blaring
through the speakers. Heather had been a good choice for a
roommate, Katie thought. Her first semester, new to Denver, she had
chosen to live on campus in a graduate apartment. It was cheaper
than living off campus and lots more convenient. Yes, she’d had
money from the sale of her house, but she didn’t want to spend it
all during her first year of school. But soon after, she changed
her mind about living off campus. She missed Sam (and suspected her
mother didn’t like caring for him), and she didn’t like the
rowdiness of on-campus living. So when her new friend Heather whom
she’d met in her Fiction Seminar told her she was looking for a
roommate, Katie asked when she could move in. Spring semester it
was, and it was a mere two months away.

Heather was a considerate roommate. Katie
had no fear of getting a good amount of sleep or of having plenty
of time to study. They were both neat and clean and Katie
appreciated her friendship as well. Heather had just broken up with
a long-term boyfriend when they met, and Katie had grown to know
Heather through her writing. Heather may have hidden her thoughts
and poignant feelings in person, but paper captured it all, thanks
to Heather’s writing talents. Katie helped Heather see the positive
in life and learn to appreciate herself.

The deejay came back on. “Beck here on your
favorite radio station in the Rockies, KPQI. Okay, listeners, as
promised, I have Shock Treatment here in the studio, and let me
tell you, if you missed it earlier, we had a great interview, and
the band played a song off their debut album right here on the air
a while ago. It was the unplugged version, not what you’re likely
to hear tonight. Anyway, I have here a list of questions--five to
be exact. When I have a question, the first caller to answer it
correctly will win a pair of front row tickets to the show tonight.
Remember, listeners, tonight’s show is sold out, so if you don’t
have tickets, this is the only way you can get in now. And it
promises to be a helluva show.”

Heather screamed again, just as the carhop
with long, straight blonde hair approached the car. Heather gave
the girl a fistful of dollars and handed Katie her large drink. The
deejay continued talking. When Heather was resituated, she flipped
up the cover of her cell phone.

The deejay’s voice came through the speakers
again. “All right, callers. First question: Name at least one of
the bands that J. C. Gibson played guitar in before Shock
Treatment.”

Yes, Katie knew the answer to that (it was a
no brainer for any of his fans), and Heather dialed in only to get
a busy signal. She continued to redial so many times she lost
count. Just in case they were able to get through, Katie reached
over and turned the radio down so it was hard to hear, but at last
a caller answered that J. C. had most recently played guitar for
Scathing Vengeance, and the lucky guy was promised tickets to the
show that night. Heather looked sad but was not giving up. The
deejay congratulated the winner and said, “Okay, I think we’ll ask
one more question before going to commercial break. And here it is.
What is J. C. Gibson’s birth name?”

Heather looked over at Katie, one eye
squinted, waiting for Katie’s response. Katie smiled and nodded.
Heather had already redialed. Katie again turned the radio down so
the sound was low, just in time for the deejay to say through the
phone, “Caller, you’re on the air. What is J. C. Gibson’s birth
name?”

Heather’s eyes became blue saucers in her
head, and her jaw tightened. She froze like a frightened rabbit.
Katie grabbed the phone from her and pressed it to her ear. “Um,
can you repeat that, please?” The deejay obliged. Katie then said,
“His real name is Johnny Church.”

There was a slight pause, and Katie smiled
over at Heather, winking. The tickets were as good as theirs. The
deejay said, “Well, J. C.?”

Katie felt the hair on the back of her neck
stand at attention when she heard Johnny’s voice. “Well,” he said,
“that’s not exactly the answer I was looking for.” God, she missed
him.

“Ooooh,” the deejay chimed in, “I’m sorry,
caller. We’ll--”

Heather’s eyes narrowed when she saw the
look on Katie’s face, and she moved her ear next to the phone, so
that the top of her head touched Katie’s. They both heard Johnny
interrupt the deejay. “But I’ll take it.”

“Oh, looks like J. C. is a generous man.
What’s the answer you were looking for?”

“John Michael Church, the name on my birth
certificate. But since I’m known in some circles as Johnny, I’ll
give it to her. So, if you don’t mind, Beck, I’d like to ask this
caller a follow-up question.”

“Be my guest, J. C.”

“Caller, I’ll throw in a couple of backstage
passes if you’ll answer this question honestly.” Katie gulped. Why
would he say
honestly
? What curve ball did he plan to throw?
His voice grew quiet as he asked, “Have you missed me?”

Heather pulled her head back to look at
Katie in the eye, then pressed the back of her hand against her
forehead and dropped her head back onto the headrest. Katie smiled
at Heather’s pretense that she’d fainted but then got lost in
Johnny’s words again. How had he known, when she hadn’t even
admitted it to herself? And there was no way she’d ever let Johnny
accuse her of lying again. “Yes.”

The pause that followed, which seemed to
Katie enough time for the pyramids to be built, ended when Johnny
said, “Good answer.”

The deejay took over again. “Caller, stay on
the line. I gotta get some details from you off the air. We’re
going to commercial now but stay tuned, listeners. We still have
three pairs of tickets to tonight’s show to give away.” Katie heard
the phone go silent as, she assumed, she was being transferred to
another line. Heather began eating the onion rings. She tilted the
bag toward Katie and Katie shook her head, her ear mashed against
the phone to block out all the noise outside.

After several moments, a woman came on the
line and asked Katie for identifying information. She then told
Katie she’d need to come to the studio to pick up her tickets. She
began to give her the address, and Katie dug a pen and notebook out
of her backpack. The woman also gave Katie basic directions to the
studio, then told her congratulations and hung up. Katie snapped
the blue cell phone shut and handed it to Heather.

“Oh, my God, Katie. I think this is one of
the best days of my life.” Katie was looking away, shell shocked,
staring at the dashboard. “Katie? Aren’t you excited?”

Part of her was hopeful, but more of her was
nervous. It was obvious that Johnny had recognized her voice. But
his “follow-up question.” Was he just toying with her or had he
really wanted to know? What kind of question was it anyway? Katie
couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so vulnerable. So she
told Heather the truth. “I don’t know.”

Katie had come home for Christmas Break to
spend time with her mom and Sam. In mid-January, as she and Sam had
been driving the one-hundred-plus miles back to her new apartment
she was sharing with Heather, she’d heard the deejay announce that
J. C. Gibson had a new band--Shock Treatment--and that the station
would be playing the first single off their new CD. Since she and
Johnny had never been good at keeping in touch, she hadn’t known.
When she found out, though, she was disappointed that she hadn’t
even gotten a CD with scratch tracks in the mail, like Johnny had
done in the past. Listening to the radio, she was amazed that not
only had he put a new band together but they’d already recorded a
CD, one that the deejay promised would be released in February.
Maybe, Katie thought, that was because Johnny was doing all the
composing and his new band members simply had to learn
everything.

Hearing the deejay’s announcement, her
disappointment quickly turned to sadness, because she still didn’t
know the state of her friendship with Johnny. The two of them might
not have been good at keeping in touch, but Johnny usually called
her during the holidays, and there had been nothing. He must have
still been angry. Or hurt. Or carrying a grudge.

Still, she was one of his biggest fans and
she wanted to hear his new band, so she turned the song up. It
started with a screaming guitar, followed by fast-tempo drums and
bass, and shortly into the song, the singer started screaming. Oh,
he was good. Johnny had made a great choice. The singer had a
melodic, smooth vocal quality but could scream like the best of
them. There was a quality to his voice that reminded Katie of Riley
in a good way, but this guy seemed to have more range. And Shock
Treatment, just like Johnny had wanted, did sound a lot
different--and more mature--than any of his other bands. There was
no mistaking who was playing guitar, but there was a grown-up edge
to it.

So, as soon as the CD hit the shelves, Katie
purchased it. It was when she popped it in her CD player at her new
apartment that she and Heather discovered their shared love of
heavy music, and it was also then that Katie told Heather that
Johnny was an old friend. Heather had playfully pushed Katie’s
shoulder and said, “Huh-unh. You’re yankin’ my chain!” Katie showed
Heather Johnny’s first “homemade” CD and Heather listened to it,
raw and unpolished, and then told Katie, “I have to hate you now.
I’m jealous.”

But after a week of intense listening to the
songs every free moment, studying and analyzing them, followed by a
full month of the music playing in the background constantly
(something Katie did with all her new CDs), she began feeling more
uneasy about her friendship with Johnny. Their friendship was over
now, surely. Looking back now, she could understand why. She
figured she’d hurt him pretty badly. Of course, he didn’t know that
she had, in the secret part of her heart, yearned for him for more
than a decade. She listened for words in the songs that might
allude to her, give her a notion about how he felt about her, but
there was nothing. This album was mostly political, full of a lot
of angry protest songs, but there was also a song that was Katie
could tell was written for his mother and another about Winchester
(or another town like it, but Katie was certain it was actually
about Winchester). There was also a song about addiction, not a
surprise to Katie. But there was nothing about love or sex or even
friendship. Nothing about betrayal. Nothing about heartache or
emotional pain. Maybe he was saving that stuff for the next CD. Or
maybe it was too personal for him to write about. But one thing
Katie knew for certain was that these songs were some of the most
honest songs she’d ever heard from Johnny or even in metal in
general.