Page 31 of Poetry By Dead Men
So what am I supposed to do when all the things I want simply don't go together? When they're not possible?
I grab my backpack, waving goodbye to Molly as I unlock my phone and scroll through my saved contacts. My thumb hovers over one for just a second before I build up the courage to click it.
“Hey, Noah?” My voice comes out squeaky, but I continue. “What are you doing tonight?”
As Noah is paying for our cab, I wish I'd chosen a different night and a different place for our date. I don’t want him and Bobby to meet, especially when Bobby has been nearly radio silent all day.
Normally, we text back and forth almost constantly, but I haven’t heard from him since our… Was it a fight? At a minimum, it was an uneasy conversation loaded with things neither of us were willing to say. He sent one single text:
Bobby: I have two backstage passes waiting for you at will call. Find me before the show.
I stand by my decision to go out with Noah. If Bobby has feelings for me, he’s notactingon them, and he can’t expect me to wait around while he figures out whatever it is that’s holding him back. If he’s not going to pursue me, and a perfectly nice guy does, why shouldn’t I give that guy a chance?
"Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?" Noah says, taking my hand and leading me toward the venue. He looks handsome, his blonde hair pushed to the side and dressed nicely in a charcoal coat and slacks. He walks on the side of the sidewalk with traffic, ever the gentleman. I’m not surprised. He’s one of the kindest, most popular guys at school. No one has a bad word to say about him, so even if it’s awkward, I’m certain that Bobby will have to like him, too.
Not that it matters. It’s about whatIwant. Right? Isn’t that what Bobby said?
"Thank you," I say. Ifeelpretty tonight. It’s very rare that I wear an open-toed shoe, but my brown peep-toe booties make me feel confident, as does the new purple dress I’m wearing. It’s fitted, but not skin tight. With billowing sleeves cuffed at my wrist, the dress is cinched at the waist, then falls loosely to a hem that swishes around my knees. It makes me feel mature, womanly, and I’m flattered he actually noticed.
I’m also a little ashamed that I hope Bobby notices, too.
"This is incredible," Noah says as he holds open the door to the massive venue for me. It's the biggest one Bobby’s ever played and is already standing room only, so we have to squeeze between bodies to make our way inside.
"Let’s go find Bobby." I pull Noah by the hand toward the back of the venue beneath a glowing red exit sign, just as the woman at will-call instructed us to. With a flash of our lanyards, we're backstage. It’s nothing like what I expected it to be. There’s equipment everywhere, wires and lighting setups, plus so many people. A few I recognize, like Kelly and her gang of mean girls that seem to follow Bobby from show to show. I feel a twinge of jealousy. Did Bobby give them backstage passes tonight, too?
I brush it off. It shouldn’t matter, because I’m here with Noah.
"What now?" Noah asks, and I shrug, my head swiveling around. I don’t see Bobby anywhere, but as if I conjured him out of thin air, I hear my name from the very back of the room.
"Beth!"
I stand on my tiptoes to see Bobby waving us over as someone adjusts an earpiece and wire, tucking it through the collar of his black t-shirt and attaching it to a pack clipped to his jeans.
I pull Noah through the crowd toward Bobby, the pack for his in-ear monitors firmly in place by the time we get to him.
"I’m so glad you could come," Bobby says, giving me a giant hug. I feel the tension drain from his body as I return the embrace, and he kisses me on the cheek.
I freeze, my skin igniting. Never once has he kissed me. Sure, it's just the cheek. But still, whynow?
"Robert," Bobby sticks out his hand to shake Noah’s, and I realize he already has his stage persona on. He seems bigger, oozing confidence as he puffs his chest out and lifts his chin.
"Noah," my date says graciously as he returns the handshake, either ignoring or not noticing that it appears Bobby’s trying to intimidate him. "This is incredible, man! Thanks so much for the passes."
"Beth deserves the best," Bobby replies, and Ifeelthe heat of his gaze on me.
"She does," Noah agrees, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "She tells me you guys met at a coffee shop?"
"We did. Meet there most days, actually." Bobby smiles broadly at Noah. "What about you? Math class or something?" He sounds dismissive, and I bristle.
"Biology lab, but yeah, at school," Noah says, winking at me.
"Great. Speaking of school, what are your plans for college? Are you staying in New York?"
"No, actually. Boston," Noah says, and I smile at his accomplishment.
"So, Harvard then?" Bobby turns to me. "Why do people never just say Harvard?"
"Boston college." Noah corrects him before I have the chance to. "I have a scholarship for biological sciences, but I didn't even try for the Ivy's. I’m not quite as smart as our girl here."
