Waiting for You (31 page)

“The last time I was
here was with Drew,” he said taking a cigarette from his pocket and then
chuckling softly before putting it away. He leaned back on his hands, his legs
kicked out in front of him. “She’d kill me if she saw me smoking that shit.”

“Do you blame Drew for
leaving?” I asked. We hadn’t talked about Drew much since we got here and I was
curious about his thoughts on the situation. They both acted like they had
never parted, throwing insults at each other and reminiscing about their
childhood.

“No. Drew had it bad.”
Dylan picked at the grass ripping pieces apart in his hand as a distraction.
“I’m glad he left. He needed to. Drew took a lot of shit from my dad.”

“Are you mad at him for
leaving?”

“No.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Bailey you think
too much.” His eyes found mine and I nearly gasped when I saw that they were
glossed over. He didn’t want to be talking about this. “He had his reason and
they’re just that, his reasons. I have no right to hate him for leaving. Did it
suck? Yeah, it did but that’s my own shit, not his. You can’t get wrapped up
into what happened in the past or what others did to you. Being mad at him
would be a waste of energy.” When he spoke the words, it felt like he was
trying to convince himself of that more than me.

“But you were sad?” I
reached for his hands in his lap when he leaned forward. He took mine and
intertwined our fingers together.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I
have regrets and things I wished would have turned out differently.” He looked
at our hands and then back to the grave. “It’s not something I’m going to dwell
on. What I think about it is in the moment, right now, what I can control.”

“Yeah.”
I thought for about a half a second and then said what I was thinking.
“Sometimes it feels better when you admit to yourself that you hold
resentment.”

I held resentment for a
lot of things, mostly for my parents and the way they controlled everything I
did.

“Jesus, this shit isn’t
complicated and I don’t need you to analyze me,” Dylan snapped letting go of my
hand and standing. His hand found his hair and tugged at the ends. “It’s just
shit. Shit that doesn’t mean anything.” His eyes soaked in sadness, inside my
heart though his words were harsh. “The sooner you realize that people are
fucking liars, dishonest deceitful pieces of shit, the better off you’ll be.”

His words held truth,
they did. I didn’t know it at the time but he tried to warn me. He did.

And then he said,
“Bailey, you hear what you want to hear sometimes.” There was tenderness to his
smile,
he wasn’t trying to hurt me, and a hunger in
his eyes that spoke truth beyond the words. “Sometimes memories are just what
they are…memories.” He gave the grave another look before walking away, a warm
comfort in a knotted chest.

Dylan was nearing tears
and didn’t want me to see him cry I assumed but then we sat in the car for
close to an hour, talking. He couldn’t leave. I wondered if this was why he
came to Birmingham. Was it to see his mom and his brother? Was that why Drew
came back here?

Since their mom was
born here, her family asked that she be buried near her cousin and dad. Their
grandma, Lauren’s mom, was still alive and lived in Montgomery.

We eventually left and
headed to the bar where Drew had live music going on. Thankfully, no questions
were asked about our age and we got in without hassle. After being at the
cemetery for close to three hours, I would have done anything to get Dylan’s
mind off his mom as his anger surrounding the situation seemed to escalate when
I pressed.

We sat at a back table
that had a clear view of the stage. Drew was singing tonight.

“Drew taught me
everything I know about music. He and Eddy were always
playin
’
shit when I was younger, like barely old enough to hold a fucking guitar let
alone know a goddamn thing about it.” Dylan’s eyes lit up. “I remember them
doing an acoustic version Midnight Rider…
man
,” he sighed at the memory
and watched Drew take the stage, “those were some good times. Those are the
memories you want to remember.”

17.
   
Stupidity – Bailey Gray

After being at Drew’s a
week, I was starting to feel like I could move in with him and Dylan and be
perfectly happy. They were entertaining and exactly what I needed. I loved that
they didn’t shelter me and shield me from their insults. They tossed them my
way too and I slung ‘
em
right back.

Drew’s girlfriend,
Megan, was very nice and I enjoyed having a girl around at times.
One that wasn’t a backstabbing cunt.
Drew tried to say she
wasn’t his girlfriend but you could see it in his eyes. He loved that girl and
her quirky attitude.

Sunday afternoon while
Drew spent time at the cemetery, Dylan and I sifted through the photos I had
developed. He stared endlessly at the sunrises and sunsets, kept the one of him
walking toward his mom’s grave and passed over the ones of him, on stage,
singing.

“You’re alive out
there,” I said holding the one where he was standing in front of the
microphone, both hands cupping it with his head leaned back belting out a song
that held true meaning for him.
His song.

His fingertips slid up
my arm, over my collarbone and to the side of my face. “It’s because of you.”

I looked down at him
and smiled. Then his phone started ringing. It was my dad again so he ripped
out the battery and tossed it on the floor just as he had done every other time
he called which was daily.

“Do you think he will
ever stop calling?” I asked biting my nails. Part of me still thought about why
he was calling but it probably had more to do with school than anything. I knew
he despised the fact that I gave up my scholarship.

“No, he won’t stop
until he has control of you,” Dylan said removing himself from the bed and
reaching for his cigarettes. “That’s all he wants.
Control.”

When Drew got back from visiting his mom
we all went out to dinner together. Dylan ran into Josh there, the first time
they had seen each other since that party and me dancing with him. It probably
would have blown over but Josh was flirty and Dylan didn’t appreciate it when
he put his arm around me and took a few of my fries from my plate like he was
some sort of good friend.

We were asked to leave
when Dylan took a swing at him.

“Jesus Dylan, was that
necessary?” Drew asked when we got to the parking lot. He and Megan both stared
at us. I had no idea what to say so I kept quiet.

“Yeah, it was!” he
shouted over his shoulder before getting in his car. “Get in Bailey.”

On the drive back to
Drew’s, house Dylan said absolutely nothing to me. It was frustrating. I was
somewhat relieved that Drew and Megan had taken a separate car. I wanted the
time alone with Dylan. I had this crazy thought that I could talk to him.

His mood didn’t improve
and when his car started vibrating, it ignited. “Now what the fuck is wrong?”
His hand over the wheel flipped up checking gauges but nothing indicated a
problem.

The rain that had
started when we left the steak house had picked up rocking the car with the
wind. The vibration in the left rear got more apparent and Dylan knew something
was wrong. We pulled off at a truck stop and parked, thankfully before
something broke. “Stay in the car.”

I stayed in the car and
watched as he said for me to do. I did sense he wasn’t in the mood for any more
provoking.

Hearing him rummage in
the truck, I watched through the rearview mirror to see him toss a tire outside
along with a handheld jack.

The rain, a steady pour
now, wasn’t letting up. I didn’t want him out there alone so, against my better
judgment, I got out.

Dylan was crouched near
the tire with a tire iron in his hands. With the rain, his hands kept slipping
from the tool and that seemed to frustrate him even more.

“Can I help?” My voice
was timid, rightfully so. At first, I wasn’t sure he had heard me with the
rain, but he did.

“You can help by
staying in the fucking car,” he grunted tossing the tool
aside,
he finally got the lug nuts off. He then took the shredded tire and removed it
to replace it with the one from the trunk.

I still wasn’t over
being yelled at and answered as such. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

Dylan stopped. I struck
a nerve, looking up at me with the cold blue that set fire with my words. “I’m
the jerk?”

“I…you…fuck…”

Frustrated, he ripped
his wet shirt over his head. It slapped against the ground as it fell beside
him.

Next thing I knew he
had me in his arms.

His fingers dug into my
wet skin sliding against me. Twisting in his arms, I slipped slightly against
the wet fender. “Don’t say that to me.”

He slammed my open door
shut and my back hit the door, my head hit the window as he pushed me against
the side, not hard but he got my attention which was what he wanted. “
Don’t
fucking do that to me? Don’t do that. Don’t treat me
like I’m the asshole for trying to protect you from things that can hurt you,”
he spit, eyes hard and only on me, the only blue that surrounded dark let me
know a storm was coming, his hand under my chin forced me to pay attention.
“There’s so much you don’t know.”

And that’s where it
ended. Dylan wasn’t willing to talk about it and with Dylan, if he wasn’t
talking, he just wasn’t.

I had so many questions
for him about his cryptic words but he would shut down.

Drew and Dylan were a little on edge the
next day and I thought it had to do with last night and the restaurant but it
didn’t. Sam, the overly persistent producer we had met in Kansas, had followed
Dylan and was now asking questions around town. Why he was so hell-bent on
Dylan was weird and Dylan didn’t appreciate it one bit.

Sam had found Dylan
with the help of Drew and presented the idea of a three-band show to support
the local bars. And if you spent any time around Sam, you would understand this
had nothing to do with supporting local bars. It was all about him and his
record label.

The bands would play at
each bar for two hours starting at three and end at Drew’s bar, The Joint.

While Dylan initially
denied the offer, and told Sam he could fuck himself, he reconsidered after
Drew said it’d be good exposure for the bar. Dylan would do anything to help
Drew out, including agreeing to partner up with the likes of Sam Young for a
night.

To prepare for the
night, Dylan called up Eddy, who had
ratted
him out to
Sam about going to Birmingham. Dylan told him he now owed him and he’d better
get his ass to Birmingham by Friday night.

Eddy brought with him
Reece and another guy named Davey who I had never met before. They spent the
next week rehearsing for ten hours a day at The Joint while Megan and I helped
Drew with advertising and posting signs around town.

The night of the
concert, Dylan was in the living room while I was getting ready. I wasn’t
exactly sure what to wear to the bar but Megan helped me out and brought over a
nice and simple black dress that clung to my every curve. Dylan wasn’t exactly
impressed with the dress but more jealous of it. His words not mine.

“Are you nervous?” I
asked slapping his hand away when he crept up my side again.

“A little,” he
admitted.
“Never played in front of this many people before.”

“You’ll do fine.” I
knelt beside him moving my hands up his thighs.

“So you say,” he
chuckled catching my hands when they got to his buckle.

“You don’t need a
distraction?”

“No,” he said bringing
my hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “I have something else planned
tonight.”

“Oh,
yeah, the concert.”
Standing I felt silly thinking he would need me as
some kind of good luck charm.

Just about the time I
was walking away, his warm hand caught mine and brought me down on his lap. His
hands went to my face forcing me to look only in his eyes.

“I don’t think you get
it, brown eyes.” His voice shot through me. “I want you, all of you, tonight.”
When the words were out, his stare was on mine, suggestive, curious.

“You mean we can
finally open the box?” I tried to hide my nervous grin but there was no way
around it.

Dylan chuckled pressing
his lips to mine, “Yes.”

“Why now?”

He wasn’t prepared for
that question but kept his expression relaxed. “Taking my own advice and living
in the moment,” he winked. “Now let’s go play rock star for a night.”

Once he told me that the box would be
opened tonight, that’s all I thought about. I thought about how it would feel,
what I would do, what he would do, the things he would say to me.
All of it.
Hardly focusing on anything around me, I was lost
in my own world.

The commotion around me
didn’t lend well to that though.

Dylan was amped when we
got to the first bar, especially with Eddy and Reece around. They were tossing
shit at each other and Reece had a black eye before the first show even began.
When they finally got on stage, they fed off one another and the music they
played which was mostly a mix of rock and roll and grunge rock. They played
covers from
Korn
, Theory
Of A
Deadman
,
Chevelle
, and The
White Stripes. Then they played one of Dylan’s at the first bar.

You tease me dear

For you don’t know

The power I hold so
near