Page 22 of I Do With You

“Tweed,” Hope finishes, and my brows jump up. That’s a new one. “It’s rough and layered, but all woven together into something beautiful and tasteful that rolls over your skin and into your soul on a cellular level. You have a real gift, Ben. You should do something with it.”

I have never been stunned into silence the way I am now. Hope’s assessment is as thoughtful as she is, and I will never forget a word of what she just said. In fact, I’ll probably replay it in my mind everytime I have to go onstage. It can be my new mantra, replacingIt’s fine, everything’s finewhile it all burns to ashes.

“Thanks,” I say, a little more gruffly than I mean to, but there’s something stuck in my throat. Must be a sprinkle from the doughnut or something.

Marcus saves me. “Heads up,” he says, pointing at the horizon, where there’s a tiny sliver of gold light beginning to appear.

We go silent, each staring at the dawn.

I’ve seen hundreds of sunrises, usually at the end of my day, through a dirty window of a truck stop, over a plate of greasy eggs, while smelling like sweat and pyrotechnics from the night’s show. This is an entirely different experience. It’s the start of something new.

This feels sacred. This is special.

I look out the corner of my eye at Hope, not wanting to interrupt her own enjoyment of the beauty before us but needing to see if she’s experiencing this glow the way I am. Her lips are lifted in the faintest hint of a smile, her chest rising and falling as she breathes slowly, and her eyes seem clear and bright. I hope that’s a good sign and that this morning is what she needed.

Mostly I hope she’s not thinking about Roy.

Listening to that phone call pissed me off. Every word out of his mouth was about himself—not a single thought given to what might’ve caused Hope to run, what she’s feeling, or what she wants. But she stood up to him, and I was so proud of her guts and grit in that moment. Falling apart afterward didn’t change that; it only made her more fascinating. She’s got a tough core, covered with softness and niceties.

Kinda the opposite of me. I keep the mess inside my head hidden, wearing a mask even when it’s not a literal one onstage.

But if Hope can face her fears, maybe I can too.

I could call Sean and see if we can figure our shit out. We always have before, and we’ve been through some rough times. This feels different, though, and I’m not sure if a heartfelt talk or even a drunken fight is going to do it. Honestly, I’m afraid we’re done, and then I’ll be in thesame position Hope’s in—asking myself what I should do next as the path I always thought I’d follow dissipates beneath my feet.

I don’t want to give in that easily, though. She didn’t have something worth fighting for with Roy. I do, with Midnight Destruction.

So I should try, right? Sean and I owe it to the teenage assholes we used to be to try to make things work. Hell, we owe it to Trent, too, who’s stuck in the middle of our battles, not sure which way to lean since he’s not the deciding vote anyway. He’s a part of us, a part of Midnight Destruction, but at the core, the band is me and Sean, and we all know it. If either of us decides to tell the other to fuck off, the band will be over.

I don’t want that. I want it to be like it was before, when it was the two of us. Me with something to say, him pouring his emotions into the music, and together, the two of us creating magic. I want that again. Without an outside influence telling us what to do, who to be, and offering to jerk our dicks for us if we’ll only do exactly what they want.

Right here and now, I make the decision to call Sean. Like Hope calling Roy, I need to grow a pair and, for better or worse, talk to him.

The sun rises higher and higher, the orange glow reflecting on the glasslike water and the sky turning into brilliant shades of pink. But the most beautiful thing on the water is Hope.

“Amazing,” she sighs as the full light of the morning surrounds us.

“Yeah, you are,” I tell her.

Her cheeks blush nearly the same color as the sky. “Shut up,” she says with a laugh, thinking I’m fucking with her. I’m not, at all.

She is amazing. Inspiring me in more ways than she can imagine.

After the sun is fully risen, Marcus cruises around the lake like a proper guide, giving a history lesson on the town and showing us points of interest, both serious and not-so-much. “That’s the water tower where we used to drink beer every Friday night,” he offers, closing one eye to accurately point inland at a tall structure. “They put a stop to that years ago, though, by adding barbed wire to the top of the fence.”

“Hell, that was enough to stop you?” I tease. “All you gotta do is snip it and climb on over. That’s what we used to do.”

Marcus grins at my provocation. “Yeah, we did that till they staked out the tower. Caught us all red-handed and gave out Minor in Possession tickets to half the high school football team. Next week’s game sucked, that’s for sure.”

Hope gasps. “I didn’t know! When was that?”

Marcus shrugs as he thinks back. “Must’a been around ’84, I guess.” To me, he asks, “You got a record with anything more serious than that?”

He’s asking casually, but I can read him. He’s making sure I’m okay to be hanging out with Hope, something I can respect. I’m getting the vibe that she’s a town favorite, even if she doesn’t know it.

I could easily lie. He’d never know the difference, not for real. But I’m not ashamed of my past. It made me who I am—a fucked-up sometimes-nice-and-neurotically-shy-other-times-in-your-face-asshole sort of guy who plays dress-up while singing onstage. The only part of that I routinely hide is the stage part, so I tell the truth. “Yeah, some criminal mischief, a little B and E. Stupid shit when I was a kid. Didn’t do time, thanks to my mom. And in a roundabout way, she set me straight.”

“You were a hellion!” Hope exclaims, using my own prior description of myself. “You probably kept your poor mother up at night worrying about you.”

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