Page 10 of Goodbye Note

I picked up the bottle, not wanting to wonder what he was thinking. “Were you dating her long?”

“Four years. We met in the scene our last year of high school, applied to the University of Chicago together.”

“Last drink. Want it?” I offered, hoping he wouldn’t take it. He shook his head, and I poured the rest down my throat, happy for the static in my brain the alcohol provided. “I thought she was a scene girl. She on the law school side of things too?”

“Yep.” He laid back, leaving his knees to dangle over the wharf while his hands tucked under the back of his head.

On a whim, I laid out but rolled to my side to face him, drawing us closer. “You said you were doing Warped, right?”

“I did. It feels like three conversations ago. How did you remember?”

“I remember everything. Part of the curse. We’re headlining.”

Arik jerked his head to the side, staring at me. “You aren’t on the list.”

“We just agreed. It hasn’t been announced yet. Death Nostalgia had to back out. So I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Shit. Here I thought this was some kind of confessional, and we’d never see each other again but would carry each other’s secrets to the grave.” He wore a smile, showing off dimples, and it was contagious.

“You don’t want to see me again?” I asked, trying not to let the disappointment into my expression.

“I do. Just not how I envisioned it. I’m much happier with this turn.”

My body calmed, not staying in the fight-or-flight I was so used to living in. “Since the fates are bringing us together again, I guess that means we’ll have to settle for friends instead of lifelong stranger confidants.”

“Deal.” He sat up and held out his hand like we were sealing some pact.

“No blood?” I asked.

“We’ll save that for our next date.”

I took his hand, not knowing how it would change my life.

THREE

ARIK

Spring break came, and against my better judgment, I decided to go home. I’d put off telling my parents about my plans for far too long, and guilt sat on my chest, making every conversation I had with them harder.

Home wasn’t far. Only to the suburbs. An easy trip on the metro and then a short walk to my parent’s modest house on the south side. The houses were worn; once a shining beacon of the blue collar, they now sat in disrepair. Peeling paint and roofs needing repair. Overgrown hedges and potholes. A place abandoned by capitalism.

My parents were lawyers but stayed in public defense for a long time before moving into corporate, and raising a family wasn’t cheap. They did a noble duty that helped a lot of people in our community, but it didn’t make us synonymous with how people think about lawyers.

“You can’t take a semester off college to go play on tour.” My mother said the words like I’d just asked her to sacrifice her firstborn. Maybe it was a mistake to tell them at all.

I sighed because I didn’t know what to say to her. “It’s only one semester.”

“You only just signed with a major record label. You don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere.” She sounded like she didn’t understand how big any of these things were.

“We signed a year ago, and we already have an album out.” Not to mention the underground success of our first album, which was why we got the record deal for the second. But she knew all that. She’d been here for every step of this journey with me. “This is what happens after you release an album with a major label. You have to tour it. It’s the best way to promote it. We can’t have a better opportunity.” I wasn’t so much trying to convince her but make her supportive. Maybe it was a lost cause.

I had the feeling that if I’d gotten a book deal or displayed in a gallery, she’d be much happier about my goals to pursue art. It was all about which art was socially acceptable in her circle.

“Do you remember telling your father and I that this was a side project and it wouldn’t affect applying to law school next year?” She got the little crease in her brows telling me she was seconds from making herself a drink and saying she was too stressed out to talk about it.

“This changes things…” I didn’t know how to break it to her and Dad that I didn’t want to be a lawyer. I’d made those promises when the band thing had been a shot in the dark.

“You can’t put off your education for a maybe.”

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