He attempted to relax with a deep breath that lowered his square shoulders just a touch. “It’s all right, but can we get inside? I could use a drink.”
I smiled, hoping it looked like I wasn’t nervous as shit. “Yeah. Of course.”
We headed over to the box office in heavy silence, and I picked up our tickets. And within a few minutes, we were stepping under the blasting air-conditioning and making our way to the bar.
It was already packed and loud, and within ten feet, the air-conditioning was a distant memory — the heat from the hundreds of bodies packed into the space had turned it into a sauna. We waited in line at the bar, trying to shout at each other over the noise with a thousand things we wanted to say pressing on us like the oppressive heat.
Lucky’s was general admission only, and we wormed our way through the masses to get as close to the stage as we could. Every second, the crowd closed in a little tighter around us, and I slammed my double tequila almost as fast as he slammed his double whiskey.
Bodie leaned down to my ear. “I’m gonna get us another round.”
I nodded and yelled, “I’ll be here,” which sounded way less cute in scream-speak.
He disappeared into the crowd, and I took a breath and let it out. As excited as I had been to see Bodie, he was angry and tense, and it was my fault. The combination of me going radio silent, him having to wait an hour for me in the hundred degree heat, and the fact that we hadn’t talked about anything we wanted to — it was almost too much to bear in the span of a few minutes.
It all of a sudden felt like a kamikaze mission, and I clambered for a way to salvage the night.
A few minutes after he left, he was back with a fresh drink, looking a little more relaxed. He smiled and brought his lips to my ear. “I found another bar upstairs, it was empty.”
I reached up on my tiptoes to get to his ear in return. “Good. Thank you.”
He repeated the ridiculous motion to get to my ear, the frustrating lag in conversation pissing me off.
“You’re welcome.” He ran a strand of my blue hair through his fingers. “You changed your hair.”
I nodded, our lips had found places, our cheeks almost pressed together so we didn’t have to move. “You like it?”
“It’s different,” he answered enigmatically just as the crowd began to cheer.
I turned to find the opening band making their way onto the stage, raising their hands to the crowd as they picked up their instruments. And just like that, any shot we’d had to talk was blown.
We bounced around to the opening band, pounding drinks. By the time their set was finished, Bodie and I hadn’t spoken, and we’d each had three doubles. This could have been a good thing, except for the fact that we were both drinking to ease our nerves. Or at least I was. Bodie seemed to be drinking so he could tolerate me.
He went to get us our fourth drink during the set change. And by the time he got back, the lights were dimming, and the crowd screamed and clapped as Rodney walked out from backstage.
It was then that I realized something very important — far too late for it to matter.
I’d had a lot of bad ideas in my life, but agreeing to meet Bodie at Lucky’s that night was hands down the worst.
My breath was still, my eyes blinking as Rodney fucking Parker — my albatross and cross to bear — took the microphone in a leather jacket and skinny jeans, looking like a goddamn motherfucking god.
He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man with a guitar and a voice and that hair and those hands. I was like a bug in a spiderweb with my eyes locked onto Rodney as I struggled to break free. For two years, I’d been obsessed with him even though he hurt me, and there he was, in the flesh, a grown man, resurrected. My past stood there before me, and my future stood next to me whole I stood in the middle, completely frozen from the unanticipated shock of it all.
If I’d been able to form a cognizant thought, I would have grabbed Bodie’s hand and run out of that stuffy, steamy, loud room like it was on fire. But since my brain had ceased primary functions, I found myself stuck to the spot with my mouth open and my drink warming in my hand.
It was bad. So, so bad.
I found my wits somewhere near the end of the set, stiff drink in my hand and stiff Bodie next to me. I snuck a glance at him and found him somehow looking even more pissed than he had when I walked up an hour late.