THE BIG DEAL: PART 16A
I know this is going against the norm a little bit, but Tahni and I discussed it and we decided the way I left Part 16 was maybe a little hard for her to write from considering Sweet is a really hard character to write. We decided that I would just essentially make Part 16 LONGER, not necessarily consider this a whole new "chapter" of MCB.
Sorry for the huge delay in getting this posted, but hopefully we'll be back posting more often.
Cherry woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes and Olivia singing in her little doll voice in the kitchen. She looked over at the recliner expecting to see Sweet sleeping off his drunk or fiddling with his guitar or his notebook; he was not there. Cherry got off the couch and walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of her bed-head in the mirror on the wall outside the kitchen door.
“Good morning, sleepy head. Did you have sweet dreams?” That joke seemed to get old to no one but Cherry.
“Not really, no. Pancakes? Has Haze been smoking in the bedroom again?”
“Funny, Cherry, but no, I just thought we could use something yummy for breakfast. I’m not dumb; I know I’m the only one who really loves waking up to a large plate of tofu scramble. I thought we could have something sweet for breakfast!”
“Stop it.” Cherry sighed.
“Oh, fiddlesticks! You really did have a bad night. Maybe you’ll learn your lesson one of these days. Cherry…” Olivia paused. Cherry momentarily ceased glaring into the cat clock’s shifting eyes on the kitchen wall to look at her, “Do you want me to set you up with someone? My friend Thunder is a really nice guy.”
“And I bet he wears burlap underwear and smells of cabbage and patchouli. No thanks, Olivia.”
Olivia disregarded Cherry’s remark about her friend. She knew she was in a terrible mood and, as she then recalled, Thunder did tend to smell like produce and incense, though she was not sure if he even wore underwear.
“Where’s Haze?”
Olivia flopped the last pancake onto the platter and turned off the griddle. “Out.”
“With Sweet?”
“Can you think of nothing else for one morning, Cherry?”
Cherry resented the question, especially since Olivia did her part to remind her of her obsession for him every few seconds.
“I just expected him to still be hung-over in the chair, is all.”
“Let’s just have breakfast and watch the news, Cherry. That will make us feel better!”
Olivia always seemed to think watching the news was a good idea. Cherry found it boring and depressing.
Meanwhile, Haze and Sweet were downtown, Egg McMuffins in their hands and stuffed in their mouths.
“You’re really going to see her tonight, Sweet?”
“Yes, Haze, I told you a thousand times. She asked if I wanted to hang out. Was I supposed to say no?”
“Yes.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I think you’ve lost yours! Do you not remember what happened between the two of you, or is that some other subject we have been avoiding for nearly six years?”
“Things change, Haze.”
“Just answer one question for me, Sweet.” Haze was silent for a moment. Neither man paid any attention to his breakfast at that point, “Are you thinking about trying to get back together with her?”
“I’ll drop you off at home,” Sweet said, avoiding the question.
Haze knew this was his cue to drop the subject. He was Sweet’s best friend and unlike Cherry, or even Olivia, he knew exactly what had happened all those years ago and just touchy Sweet was about bringing it up.
Sweet pulled up to the curb in front of the little house and Haze got out of the car.
“Call me later, Sweet.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Haze walked in the house as Sweet drove away.
“There are pancakes in the kitchen!” Olivia announced.
“Pancakes?! Why didn’t you call me? The one morning I go out for breakfast you make something edib - different. Different. Something other than nummy, nummy tofu scramble.” Haze quickly corrected himself. They were not married, but he knew his place and what would send Olivia into one of her lectures.
“Oh, sweetie, I know that stomach of yours is a bottomless pit. Two sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits couldn’t have filled it completely.” Olivia’s tone was sarcastically patronizing.
“It was two Egg McMuffins and…you’re right.” Haze smiled and walked into the kitchen to fill a plate with breakfast part deux.
Later that day, Sweet sat at home on his bed. He was freshly showered and his blonde hair was softer and more brilliant usual. He was in his newest pair of jeans, the one with the fewest holes, barefoot and shirtless. He lit his umpteenth cigarette of the day. Just then, his phone rang. It was the same song from the night before.
“Hello? No, I was just hangin’ out. I was thinking about going and getting an early dinner...Oh, tonight? I forgot all about it.” He lied to the voice on the other end of the phone. He tried to make their plans for tonight seem not-so-important to him. His lip quivered with the truth of how nervous her voice made him. “Meet me at that place…Yeah, that’s the one…An hour…Ok. Bye.”
Sweet set the phone on his nightstand and took a long, heavy drag from his cigarette. He smashed out its burning end in the ash tray and put his head in the palms of his hands. He was beginning to think Haze might have been on to something. This was all probably a big mistake. He couldn’t cancel on her, however. He would never say no to her.
It was just around 7:15 when Sweet walked to the entrance of the place he mentioned on the phone. It was a little bar, but not the busy, smoky, dirty kind. It was not full of loud drunks. It was not a biker bar. There were no seedy characters hanging around. It was a little pub in a small, historical neighborhood, and through the large pane of glass that bore its name he saw her.
Sweet reached in his pocket for a cigarette. He just wanted to calm his nerves before going inside. It was too late.
“You gonna stand out here all night, Sweet?”
“No, I was just…No. Let’s go inside.”
She walked in front of him and nothing could stop him from watching her slender hips move as she walked. Her body had not changed at all in six years. Sweet, however, had gone from a sleek, toned nineteen-year-old, to a skinny, flabby mess of twenty-five.
They sat down at the table he had seen her sitting at before. He begged her to move to the back corner.
“Afraid your fans are going to mob you? Don’t worry, Sweet, not a one of them is over fifteen.” She meant that as a jab, but it was followed by her smirk. It made Sweet slightly uneasy because her smirk was not only familiar to him because of the time he had spent memorizing her face, but because it was nearly identical to the one he wanted to slap off Dev’s face time and time again. She was not Dev, however, and he loved her face.
Sweet laughed silently and smiled, blushing a little. She was the only person who could really get him to do it.
Lucy looked more beautiful than ever. Her long, soft, brown waves were pulled back in a banana clip and the shorter pieces fell down in her face. She wore a long gray cardigan over her shapeless lavender frock, and brown gladiator sandals; several strands of mismatched beads dripped down her front. It never mattered what uncoordinated mess Lucy shrouded her body with, Sweet, and most everyone else, thought she looked perfect.
A barmaid came to their table and they ordered some food and some drinks. Lucy and Sweet were quiet apart from some trivial conversation.
“How was the rest of tour?” Lucy asked. Sweet shrugged a little and sipped his beer. “Because you seemed a little unlike yourself when I saw you last, but then again, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, maybe that is the new Sweet.”
“Tour was…interesting, to say the least, Luce.”
“I can imagine. Your little Cherry seems like quite the handful. I was surprised you let her get away with as much as she did,” obviously referring to the leader of The Multicolored Band allowing one of his own to fraternize with the enemy.
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into her lately. She’s always been a little bit of a troublemaker, but in the beginning she had more of an excuse. Lately it’s like she’s flipped her wig. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she’d started -” Sweet stopped himself mid-sentence. This was not his Lucy anymore. They had six years of absence between them. He had to remind himself she was Dev’s sister.
“Started what?” Lucy inquired.
“Nothing. She’s just gotten out of control lately. I’m sorry about last night.”
“It’s ok. She’s kind of a…misinformed know-it-all, but it’s kind of cute.” Lucy smirked and took a sip of her cocktail.
“How do you figure?”
“I think she has a crush on you. You should be happy, Sweet! The rest of the world is convinced you did something wicked and broke my heart. Someone’s actually on your side.”
Sweet said nothing. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the topic. He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling - trying to deal with the idea of Cherry having feelings for him, or bringing up what had gone down between Lucy and himself.
“I’m impressed, though.” Lucy began again.
“By what?”
“You. You’re so, oh, I don’t know, paternal? If I recall, you were always wild yourself, Sweet.”
“Still am.” He winked.
“Maybe, but you’ve grown soft. It’s sweet of you to be so concerned about her.”
“Well, that’s my name.” He smiled his flirtatious smile. He remembered the conversation he and Lucy had the first night they met; how he joked about how sweet he was. She was just as pretty as the first time he saw her and he wanted to impress her just as much.
“Not that again!” she laughed, clearly recalling the same memory.
They were silent again for while; eating their dinner and drinking their drinks. They ordered another round and only when the barmaid brought them to the table did conversation continue.
“How have you been, Luce? I still can’t believe you’ve been doing touring of your own.”
“Oh, I don’t do so much touring as I do playing at the same little haunts for a few weeks at a time, but I like it. I can see what you and Dev love about performing so much.”
Sweet frowned a little. Lucy could tell bringing up Dev’s name was not something he had really anticipated.
“He’s my brother, Sweet. Forever.”
“He’s an asshole, Lucy. Forever.”
“I thought you guys would have moved on from this by now. You both are such children.”
“I just thought for one night it could just be you and me. I already know what your decision is at the end of the day, but for just a few hours I thought you could forget about him.” Sweet’s face had gone red and he had a death-grip on his bottle of beer. He forgot how furious her loyalty to her brother could make him. This was nothing new. This was how nearly every day of their relationship went, especially towards the end. Sweet was thankful no one he knew was in the room. This was not a side of himself he cared to let anyone see.
Lucy bit her lip, picking at the scraps of uneaten food on the plate in front of her. Sweet fingered with the lip of his bottle, wishing his breathing would return to normal.
Lucy swallowed nothing and released her lip from her teeth. “I can see nothing’s changed. I don’t know what I was thinking calling you,” she admitted. Her words stung Sweet like the last words she said to him all those years ago. It felt like they were breaking up all over again.
“Maybe you’re right.” He agreed, his eyes never leaving the brown bottle before him.
Lucy reached into her pocketbook and pulled out some cash. She handed it the barmaid as she walked by, telling her to keep the change and rising from the table.
“It was nice seeing you again, Sweet.” She spoke in her usual angelic tone.
“Yeah,” Sweet replied staring at the table.
She made her way to the door, but before she could exit the pub Sweet called to her.
“Lucy,” She turned around. He was looking directly at her now, “Tell your brother to stay away from my band mates…especially Cherry.”
Lucy let out a small laugh. “You know I’m not going to tell him that, Sweet.”
“No?” Sweet’s eyebrows raised a little.
“No. It would be counterproductive and you know it. It will only make him pursue her more desperately; anything to rattle you, my dear, dear, Sweet.”
He knew she was right. He sighed and stood up from the table, leaving a bit more cash. He didn’t like it when Lucy paid for things. It’s not like he was poor. He walked over to his ex-beloved standing by the door.
“Well, thanks, then.” He said. He was disappointed that they couldn’t get through one evening without fighting. He wanted to see her again, but figured all things considered it was unlikely.
He tried to be chivalrous and hailed her a cab. It pulled up to the curb and she walked close to the back passenger door. He wasn’t really sure what to say or do at this point. She took a few steps toward him and kissed his cheek. Sweet could feel every inch of his body quiver, but her lips were so familiar on his skin. He wanted to lean in the window of the cab and tell the driver she changed her mind like he had so many times before, laughing and grabbing her by the waist, pulling her close to him and kissing her passionately. He wanted to grab her by the hand and run to his car, taking her back to his place like he used to. He wanted to be with her…like he used to. Instead he just stood there trying to breathe.
She leaned into his ear, “I’ve missed you desperately,” she whispered and turned around. She sat down in the back of the cab and was gone.
Sweet stood, stunned for several minutes. Finally he reached into his pocket, retrieving his cigarettes. He lit one and took a long, slow drag, closing his eyes.
“Fuck.” He said in a ribbon of smoke. He reached back in his pocket and pulled out his keys, walking to his car, a million thoughts swimming behind his purplish-blue eyes.
Cherry was still at Haze and Olivia’s. They had had dinner - vegan pizza - and were listening to Haze play his old acoustic guitar; it was a rare treat. He and Olivia sang old hippie songs, many of which Cherry was unfamiliar with. She was a socially alienated punk from a bad home. She knew who the Beatles were - some other old dudes as well - but apart from what she had learned from her band mates over the past few years, she was fairly new to what Haze and Sweet referred to as “the years before music died.” They were slowly and single-handedly trying to revive it.
Haze’s phone buzzed on the table. Olivia picked it up and reading the caller I.D. gave him a look that said something Cherry couldn’t decipher. He put his guitar on the stand in front of the window and leaned over to kiss Olivia on the lips. He grabbed his hoodie and his phone and left out the front door without a word.
Cherry was sick of everyone acting so secretive. By this, she knew Sweet was involved, but being left out of the loop was wearing on her. She was getting to a point where she was beginning to resent everyone in the band. Had they turned their backs on her because of the time she spent with Dev? Did they think she could no longer be trusted? Did they think she had become a double-agent? And now she didn’t even have Dev to run to in order to feel some sort of comfort. She wished she could see him more than ever. Now she was uninterested in making Sweet jealous, she just wanted to rebel and make him mad. She was growing more and more irrational and didn’t care if it got her kicked out of the band. If they were going to treat her like an outsider she didn’t need them. She thought maybe she could call Dev and make up with him, but their fight had not been some spat over MCB versus Clockwork. This fight had been about his dear, beloved sister and she was almost certain that was not something he would forgive easily. She decided she hated Lucy with her perfect body, and her perfect voice, and her perfect face, and her perfect laugh. She hated her history with Sweet and her power over Dev. It was not fair that everyone cared more about Lucy than they cared about Cherry. Even Olivia seemed to be defending her when she scolded her for thinking she knew what she was talking about when she didn’t. She hoped Haze was her ally. She hoped he hated Lucy as much as she did since she was his best friend’s ex, but she didn’t even have her good friend Haze to complain to these days. He was too busy playing the best friend and running to Sweet’s side. All of these thoughts boiled within her and she could take it no longer.
“I have to pee.” She huffed. Olivia looked at her strangely. Cherry’s mood seemed to come from nowhere.
Cherry walked down the hall to where the bathroom was. This was also where Haze and Olivia’s bedroom was. She had been in that house long enough to know that Olivia could not see her from where she was sitting. She opened and closed the bathroom door, but did not go in. She crept into Haze and Olivia’s open bedroom. Cherry walked as softly as she could over to the table on Haze’s side of the bed; the drawer was not closed completely. She looked over her shoulder, paranoid that Olivia would walk in behind her to get her knitting or a book to busy herself until Haze got home. There was no sign of her. Cherry quietly pulled the drawer open a little wider and saw what she was looking for - the little hemp pouch Haze kept his stash in. She pulled it out of the drawer slowly and opened it. Inside she found a plastic bag that appeared untouched, and three joints. She snuck one from the pouch, pulling the drawstrings tight, and returned it to the drawer.
“He smokes this stuff so often there’s no way he’ll remember how many were in there. He’ll probably think he smoked it himself.” Cherry slipped the joint into her pocket and pushed the drawer shut. She crept back to the bathroom door and tried to open it without a sound. She flushed the toilet and came back out into the living room. “I’m gonna take a walk.” She informed Olivia who was sitting on the couch doing a crossword puzzle in that morning’s paper.
“Want me to come? You seem a little upset tonight.”
“No, I’m fine. I’d like to be alone for a while.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Liv.”
Olivia looked back at her puzzle and Cherry headed for the front door. She walked a few blocks until she came to the dark yard of an abandoned house. She felt like a teenager again, sneaking around to find private places to indulge in the laundry list of illegal substances she had been into. She felt a little guilty. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the joint.
“Shit!” She remembered she didn’t have a lighter.
She looked back down the road towards Haze and Olivia’s. It would be too obvious she was up to something if she tried to go back and get one from the house. She looked down the other direction and could see the sign from the gas station up the road. She reached into her other pocket and found three crumpled dollar bills.
“How much do lighters cost these days?”
Sorry for the huge delay in getting this posted, but hopefully we'll be back posting more often.
Cherry woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes and Olivia singing in her little doll voice in the kitchen. She looked over at the recliner expecting to see Sweet sleeping off his drunk or fiddling with his guitar or his notebook; he was not there. Cherry got off the couch and walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of her bed-head in the mirror on the wall outside the kitchen door.
“Good morning, sleepy head. Did you have sweet dreams?” That joke seemed to get old to no one but Cherry.
“Not really, no. Pancakes? Has Haze been smoking in the bedroom again?”
“Funny, Cherry, but no, I just thought we could use something yummy for breakfast. I’m not dumb; I know I’m the only one who really loves waking up to a large plate of tofu scramble. I thought we could have something sweet for breakfast!”
“Stop it.” Cherry sighed.
“Oh, fiddlesticks! You really did have a bad night. Maybe you’ll learn your lesson one of these days. Cherry…” Olivia paused. Cherry momentarily ceased glaring into the cat clock’s shifting eyes on the kitchen wall to look at her, “Do you want me to set you up with someone? My friend Thunder is a really nice guy.”
“And I bet he wears burlap underwear and smells of cabbage and patchouli. No thanks, Olivia.”
Olivia disregarded Cherry’s remark about her friend. She knew she was in a terrible mood and, as she then recalled, Thunder did tend to smell like produce and incense, though she was not sure if he even wore underwear.
“Where’s Haze?”
Olivia flopped the last pancake onto the platter and turned off the griddle. “Out.”
“With Sweet?”
“Can you think of nothing else for one morning, Cherry?”
Cherry resented the question, especially since Olivia did her part to remind her of her obsession for him every few seconds.
“I just expected him to still be hung-over in the chair, is all.”
“Let’s just have breakfast and watch the news, Cherry. That will make us feel better!”
Olivia always seemed to think watching the news was a good idea. Cherry found it boring and depressing.
Meanwhile, Haze and Sweet were downtown, Egg McMuffins in their hands and stuffed in their mouths.
“You’re really going to see her tonight, Sweet?”
“Yes, Haze, I told you a thousand times. She asked if I wanted to hang out. Was I supposed to say no?”
“Yes.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I think you’ve lost yours! Do you not remember what happened between the two of you, or is that some other subject we have been avoiding for nearly six years?”
“Things change, Haze.”
“Just answer one question for me, Sweet.” Haze was silent for a moment. Neither man paid any attention to his breakfast at that point, “Are you thinking about trying to get back together with her?”
“I’ll drop you off at home,” Sweet said, avoiding the question.
Haze knew this was his cue to drop the subject. He was Sweet’s best friend and unlike Cherry, or even Olivia, he knew exactly what had happened all those years ago and just touchy Sweet was about bringing it up.
Sweet pulled up to the curb in front of the little house and Haze got out of the car.
“Call me later, Sweet.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Haze walked in the house as Sweet drove away.
“There are pancakes in the kitchen!” Olivia announced.
“Pancakes?! Why didn’t you call me? The one morning I go out for breakfast you make something edib - different. Different. Something other than nummy, nummy tofu scramble.” Haze quickly corrected himself. They were not married, but he knew his place and what would send Olivia into one of her lectures.
“Oh, sweetie, I know that stomach of yours is a bottomless pit. Two sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits couldn’t have filled it completely.” Olivia’s tone was sarcastically patronizing.
“It was two Egg McMuffins and…you’re right.” Haze smiled and walked into the kitchen to fill a plate with breakfast part deux.
Later that day, Sweet sat at home on his bed. He was freshly showered and his blonde hair was softer and more brilliant usual. He was in his newest pair of jeans, the one with the fewest holes, barefoot and shirtless. He lit his umpteenth cigarette of the day. Just then, his phone rang. It was the same song from the night before.
“Hello? No, I was just hangin’ out. I was thinking about going and getting an early dinner...Oh, tonight? I forgot all about it.” He lied to the voice on the other end of the phone. He tried to make their plans for tonight seem not-so-important to him. His lip quivered with the truth of how nervous her voice made him. “Meet me at that place…Yeah, that’s the one…An hour…Ok. Bye.”
Sweet set the phone on his nightstand and took a long, heavy drag from his cigarette. He smashed out its burning end in the ash tray and put his head in the palms of his hands. He was beginning to think Haze might have been on to something. This was all probably a big mistake. He couldn’t cancel on her, however. He would never say no to her.
It was just around 7:15 when Sweet walked to the entrance of the place he mentioned on the phone. It was a little bar, but not the busy, smoky, dirty kind. It was not full of loud drunks. It was not a biker bar. There were no seedy characters hanging around. It was a little pub in a small, historical neighborhood, and through the large pane of glass that bore its name he saw her.
Sweet reached in his pocket for a cigarette. He just wanted to calm his nerves before going inside. It was too late.
“You gonna stand out here all night, Sweet?”
“No, I was just…No. Let’s go inside.”
She walked in front of him and nothing could stop him from watching her slender hips move as she walked. Her body had not changed at all in six years. Sweet, however, had gone from a sleek, toned nineteen-year-old, to a skinny, flabby mess of twenty-five.
They sat down at the table he had seen her sitting at before. He begged her to move to the back corner.
“Afraid your fans are going to mob you? Don’t worry, Sweet, not a one of them is over fifteen.” She meant that as a jab, but it was followed by her smirk. It made Sweet slightly uneasy because her smirk was not only familiar to him because of the time he had spent memorizing her face, but because it was nearly identical to the one he wanted to slap off Dev’s face time and time again. She was not Dev, however, and he loved her face.
Sweet laughed silently and smiled, blushing a little. She was the only person who could really get him to do it.
Lucy looked more beautiful than ever. Her long, soft, brown waves were pulled back in a banana clip and the shorter pieces fell down in her face. She wore a long gray cardigan over her shapeless lavender frock, and brown gladiator sandals; several strands of mismatched beads dripped down her front. It never mattered what uncoordinated mess Lucy shrouded her body with, Sweet, and most everyone else, thought she looked perfect.
A barmaid came to their table and they ordered some food and some drinks. Lucy and Sweet were quiet apart from some trivial conversation.
“How was the rest of tour?” Lucy asked. Sweet shrugged a little and sipped his beer. “Because you seemed a little unlike yourself when I saw you last, but then again, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, maybe that is the new Sweet.”
“Tour was…interesting, to say the least, Luce.”
“I can imagine. Your little Cherry seems like quite the handful. I was surprised you let her get away with as much as she did,” obviously referring to the leader of The Multicolored Band allowing one of his own to fraternize with the enemy.
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into her lately. She’s always been a little bit of a troublemaker, but in the beginning she had more of an excuse. Lately it’s like she’s flipped her wig. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she’d started -” Sweet stopped himself mid-sentence. This was not his Lucy anymore. They had six years of absence between them. He had to remind himself she was Dev’s sister.
“Started what?” Lucy inquired.
“Nothing. She’s just gotten out of control lately. I’m sorry about last night.”
“It’s ok. She’s kind of a…misinformed know-it-all, but it’s kind of cute.” Lucy smirked and took a sip of her cocktail.
“How do you figure?”
“I think she has a crush on you. You should be happy, Sweet! The rest of the world is convinced you did something wicked and broke my heart. Someone’s actually on your side.”
Sweet said nothing. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the topic. He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling - trying to deal with the idea of Cherry having feelings for him, or bringing up what had gone down between Lucy and himself.
“I’m impressed, though.” Lucy began again.
“By what?”
“You. You’re so, oh, I don’t know, paternal? If I recall, you were always wild yourself, Sweet.”
“Still am.” He winked.
“Maybe, but you’ve grown soft. It’s sweet of you to be so concerned about her.”
“Well, that’s my name.” He smiled his flirtatious smile. He remembered the conversation he and Lucy had the first night they met; how he joked about how sweet he was. She was just as pretty as the first time he saw her and he wanted to impress her just as much.
“Not that again!” she laughed, clearly recalling the same memory.
They were silent again for while; eating their dinner and drinking their drinks. They ordered another round and only when the barmaid brought them to the table did conversation continue.
“How have you been, Luce? I still can’t believe you’ve been doing touring of your own.”
“Oh, I don’t do so much touring as I do playing at the same little haunts for a few weeks at a time, but I like it. I can see what you and Dev love about performing so much.”
Sweet frowned a little. Lucy could tell bringing up Dev’s name was not something he had really anticipated.
“He’s my brother, Sweet. Forever.”
“He’s an asshole, Lucy. Forever.”
“I thought you guys would have moved on from this by now. You both are such children.”
“I just thought for one night it could just be you and me. I already know what your decision is at the end of the day, but for just a few hours I thought you could forget about him.” Sweet’s face had gone red and he had a death-grip on his bottle of beer. He forgot how furious her loyalty to her brother could make him. This was nothing new. This was how nearly every day of their relationship went, especially towards the end. Sweet was thankful no one he knew was in the room. This was not a side of himself he cared to let anyone see.
Lucy bit her lip, picking at the scraps of uneaten food on the plate in front of her. Sweet fingered with the lip of his bottle, wishing his breathing would return to normal.
Lucy swallowed nothing and released her lip from her teeth. “I can see nothing’s changed. I don’t know what I was thinking calling you,” she admitted. Her words stung Sweet like the last words she said to him all those years ago. It felt like they were breaking up all over again.
“Maybe you’re right.” He agreed, his eyes never leaving the brown bottle before him.
Lucy reached into her pocketbook and pulled out some cash. She handed it the barmaid as she walked by, telling her to keep the change and rising from the table.
“It was nice seeing you again, Sweet.” She spoke in her usual angelic tone.
“Yeah,” Sweet replied staring at the table.
She made her way to the door, but before she could exit the pub Sweet called to her.
“Lucy,” She turned around. He was looking directly at her now, “Tell your brother to stay away from my band mates…especially Cherry.”
Lucy let out a small laugh. “You know I’m not going to tell him that, Sweet.”
“No?” Sweet’s eyebrows raised a little.
“No. It would be counterproductive and you know it. It will only make him pursue her more desperately; anything to rattle you, my dear, dear, Sweet.”
He knew she was right. He sighed and stood up from the table, leaving a bit more cash. He didn’t like it when Lucy paid for things. It’s not like he was poor. He walked over to his ex-beloved standing by the door.
“Well, thanks, then.” He said. He was disappointed that they couldn’t get through one evening without fighting. He wanted to see her again, but figured all things considered it was unlikely.
He tried to be chivalrous and hailed her a cab. It pulled up to the curb and she walked close to the back passenger door. He wasn’t really sure what to say or do at this point. She took a few steps toward him and kissed his cheek. Sweet could feel every inch of his body quiver, but her lips were so familiar on his skin. He wanted to lean in the window of the cab and tell the driver she changed her mind like he had so many times before, laughing and grabbing her by the waist, pulling her close to him and kissing her passionately. He wanted to grab her by the hand and run to his car, taking her back to his place like he used to. He wanted to be with her…like he used to. Instead he just stood there trying to breathe.
She leaned into his ear, “I’ve missed you desperately,” she whispered and turned around. She sat down in the back of the cab and was gone.
Sweet stood, stunned for several minutes. Finally he reached into his pocket, retrieving his cigarettes. He lit one and took a long, slow drag, closing his eyes.
“Fuck.” He said in a ribbon of smoke. He reached back in his pocket and pulled out his keys, walking to his car, a million thoughts swimming behind his purplish-blue eyes.
Cherry was still at Haze and Olivia’s. They had had dinner - vegan pizza - and were listening to Haze play his old acoustic guitar; it was a rare treat. He and Olivia sang old hippie songs, many of which Cherry was unfamiliar with. She was a socially alienated punk from a bad home. She knew who the Beatles were - some other old dudes as well - but apart from what she had learned from her band mates over the past few years, she was fairly new to what Haze and Sweet referred to as “the years before music died.” They were slowly and single-handedly trying to revive it.
Haze’s phone buzzed on the table. Olivia picked it up and reading the caller I.D. gave him a look that said something Cherry couldn’t decipher. He put his guitar on the stand in front of the window and leaned over to kiss Olivia on the lips. He grabbed his hoodie and his phone and left out the front door without a word.
Cherry was sick of everyone acting so secretive. By this, she knew Sweet was involved, but being left out of the loop was wearing on her. She was getting to a point where she was beginning to resent everyone in the band. Had they turned their backs on her because of the time she spent with Dev? Did they think she could no longer be trusted? Did they think she had become a double-agent? And now she didn’t even have Dev to run to in order to feel some sort of comfort. She wished she could see him more than ever. Now she was uninterested in making Sweet jealous, she just wanted to rebel and make him mad. She was growing more and more irrational and didn’t care if it got her kicked out of the band. If they were going to treat her like an outsider she didn’t need them. She thought maybe she could call Dev and make up with him, but their fight had not been some spat over MCB versus Clockwork. This fight had been about his dear, beloved sister and she was almost certain that was not something he would forgive easily. She decided she hated Lucy with her perfect body, and her perfect voice, and her perfect face, and her perfect laugh. She hated her history with Sweet and her power over Dev. It was not fair that everyone cared more about Lucy than they cared about Cherry. Even Olivia seemed to be defending her when she scolded her for thinking she knew what she was talking about when she didn’t. She hoped Haze was her ally. She hoped he hated Lucy as much as she did since she was his best friend’s ex, but she didn’t even have her good friend Haze to complain to these days. He was too busy playing the best friend and running to Sweet’s side. All of these thoughts boiled within her and she could take it no longer.
“I have to pee.” She huffed. Olivia looked at her strangely. Cherry’s mood seemed to come from nowhere.
Cherry walked down the hall to where the bathroom was. This was also where Haze and Olivia’s bedroom was. She had been in that house long enough to know that Olivia could not see her from where she was sitting. She opened and closed the bathroom door, but did not go in. She crept into Haze and Olivia’s open bedroom. Cherry walked as softly as she could over to the table on Haze’s side of the bed; the drawer was not closed completely. She looked over her shoulder, paranoid that Olivia would walk in behind her to get her knitting or a book to busy herself until Haze got home. There was no sign of her. Cherry quietly pulled the drawer open a little wider and saw what she was looking for - the little hemp pouch Haze kept his stash in. She pulled it out of the drawer slowly and opened it. Inside she found a plastic bag that appeared untouched, and three joints. She snuck one from the pouch, pulling the drawstrings tight, and returned it to the drawer.
“He smokes this stuff so often there’s no way he’ll remember how many were in there. He’ll probably think he smoked it himself.” Cherry slipped the joint into her pocket and pushed the drawer shut. She crept back to the bathroom door and tried to open it without a sound. She flushed the toilet and came back out into the living room. “I’m gonna take a walk.” She informed Olivia who was sitting on the couch doing a crossword puzzle in that morning’s paper.
“Want me to come? You seem a little upset tonight.”
“No, I’m fine. I’d like to be alone for a while.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thanks, Liv.”
Olivia looked back at her puzzle and Cherry headed for the front door. She walked a few blocks until she came to the dark yard of an abandoned house. She felt like a teenager again, sneaking around to find private places to indulge in the laundry list of illegal substances she had been into. She felt a little guilty. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the joint.
“Shit!” She remembered she didn’t have a lighter.
She looked back down the road towards Haze and Olivia’s. It would be too obvious she was up to something if she tried to go back and get one from the house. She looked down the other direction and could see the sign from the gas station up the road. She reached into her other pocket and found three crumpled dollar bills.
“How much do lighters cost these days?”