Page 24 of Goodbye Note

We’d traded a few emails, but nothing major.

He was busy. Finals. His parents. Preparing for his first major U.S. tour.

While I had a month to think. I’d never be the type of person who could settle down. I was meant to be on tour. I couldn’t relax in this place. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. It held too many awful memories. I had a whole summer of him to look forward to and Arik was going to be the death of me. I just knew it.

“You act like you’re submitting a thesis. What are you doing?” I sat in front of our grandparents’ ancient computer while they were at church.

I clicked off the email so he wouldn’t read over my shoulder. “Emailing. Fuck. Why are you so nosy.”

“Why are you so skittish?” He turned his head from the screen in a slow, horror-like movement.

I shuddered. “Stop. You’re making me think you’re dead.”

“Only inside, baby.” Val gave me a horrifying smile with his eyes unfocused.“Just buy yourself a laptop. Why are you still using that thing?”

“It’s a wonder you’re a sex symbol when all I see is ‘I’m going to get murdered in my sleep,’” I said, flipping through my socials to see if there was anything interesting. We weren’t quite at the ‘have someone else manage our social media’ level of things, so I still kept tabs on mine, even if some of the things I was tagged in were outrageous. “It’s just another thing I’d have to keep track of on tour. You know how often I misplace my phone.”

“Cut the crap. Who’s the email to?” He hit a random key on the keyboard, bringing up private messages.

I swatted his hand away. “Hey, now. You’re going to accidentally send my nudes to someone!”

“It’s really interesting that you say you have your nudes on our grandparents’ computer.” He hit another key.

I cringed, then laughed, shoving him off. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Seriously, what is with all this secretive behavior?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did Dad reach out or something?”

“No. Fuck, no. I wouldn’t talk to him.” I glanced back at the screen to make sure he didn’t bring my mess of an email back up.

“The anniversary of Mom’s death is coming up, and since it’s blowing up we’ll be at Warped…” He looked away, hiding his emotion.

My chest ached, but I wouldn’t show it. “No, it’s not him. Fuck him.”

“Then who else are you emailing while Gran and Gramps are at church?”

“Look at this.” I pointed at the monitor. “Arik is doing a live chat to promote some new social media thing he’s now on.” I clicked the link to bring up PocketJournal and instantly hit the button to make an account. “Should I make an account to join the chatroom?”

“What is this, Y2K? Who has a chatroom?”

“We have a Discord for our band. Don’t act like chatrooms have gone anywhere. Should I join?”

“You’re already doing it and still avoiding me.”

“I was trying to figure out what to say to Arik,” I admitted, hands hovering over the keyboard, not sure what to make my screen name.

“You still talking to him?” He tilted his head, studying me. “You don’t like friends. This must be serious.”

I held up my middle finger. “It’s easy with him. I don’t have to force it.”

“So why is the email hard?”

“It feels—” I searched for words to make sense of the knots in my brain. “Forced. Like the same chemistry isn’t there unless he’s in front of me. I hate the digital age. I was made to be a Boomer or some shit.”

“Always chasing the dopamine.”

“Why do you think I named the band this.” I sat back in the desk chair, spinning a slow circle. “Help me pick a screen name to join this chat later.”

“Just put your name. You don’t have time to mess around, Fox and Bronx will be here.”

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