Page 12 of Goodbye Note

My father gave me a look but grabbed dishes and headed to the dining room before asking me what it was about. I gathered napkins and silverware and followed. There was no point in putting it off. I didn’t want it to be a topic of conversation at the dinner table and have to deal with two lawyers tag-teaming me.

“What does your mother mean?”

“I want to take a semester off.”

My father froze. “What? Why would you do that? Is your mental health okay?”

I cringed. That seemed to be the new buzzword all the parents were talking about. “I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but was anyone? I took my pills and made do with the brain chemistry I’d been given. We didn’t need to get off on a tangent. “They asked us to play Warped Tour, and I want to take the fall semester off.”

“If you take the fall off, what does that mean for taking the LSATs in June?”

I broke our eye contact to arrange the forks. “I could do it in October.”

“After touring all summer?” he asked, but I couldn’t tell how he felt from his tone. He was too guarded. Fucking lawyers.

“I’ll have to do an extra semester so I’ll be a spring admit. I can take it in February, which gives me time to retake in June.” I’d thought through the entire argument while waiting for him to get home, but I still felt wildly underprepared.

My dad didn’t speak as he finished setting out glasses and then added wine glasses to each of our settings. He crouched down to select a wine bottle from the rack and finally spoke. “I don’t think either of us will tell you not to follow your dream, but have you thought about the type of lifestyle a musician has? And I’m not talking about rock stars. Very few are afforded the life of the Beatles or Elvis. Or even…” He snapped his fingers. “Who are all the kids listening to? Metallica…or Green Day. Most bands don’t reach those levels. They are in the low to middle ground, which creates a grueling lifestyle. You’ll be touring all the time and barely making ends meet. Your mother and I want the best for you, and we are trying to make sure you’ve thought about the comforts you’re used to and what the rest of your life will look like if you don’t pursue higher education.” Dad loved legal research, so it didn’t surprise me he’d researched this.

“I understand what the odds are, but I can’t not do it. I have to see it through.” It was more than that, but I couldn’t explain to him I would do whatever it took to make it. Failure wasn’t an option.

“This record company really has faith in you?”

I nodded. “After how well our first album with them is doing, yeah, they think we have what it takes to break into mainstream. So many bands have done it. It’s not just pop and boy bands, Dad. Blink, Metallica, Green Day—they’re playing stadiums. They are huge.”

He screwed the bottle opener into the cork, weighing and digesting what I’d said. “I support you. You know that, son. Your mother does too. She’s just worried about you with your mental health and all.”

You get admitted for one psych break in high school, and your parents never leave you alone again. “I’m fine. I’ve got my antidepressants, and I’ve been really good at college.”

“Life on tour just seems like it will be more of a challenge. The doctors said you need to get a good amount of sleep.”

“I know.” I held out my hand for the bottle of wine so I could pour it into their aerator.

“Okay,” he said, wiping his hands on his slacks.

“So you’re not going to be upset?” I asked carefully, setting the empty bottle aside. I wasn’t exactly asking for permission, but their blessing.

“As long as you keep up with your studies.”

“I will.” I kept my voice even, wanting to call the guys, but then…the face that popped into my mind wasn’t Nicole but Varian.

I wanted to email Varian.

No, it was more than that. I wanted to find out where his band was playing next and drive all night to tell him myself.

* * *

I typed an email three times. And deleted them all.

I’d been thinking about what we shared since that night.

I don’t know why I felt stuck on it. Stuck on Varian. Maybe because he felt like a different kind of magic than I was used to.

Real in a world of those barely breathing.

I put my fingers over the keys and stared at the blank screen.

What could I even say? ‘Hi’ was so surface level after the depth of our night.

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