Page 115 of Bad Teammate
“Good … because thatwouldhave been a deal breaker!”
“Ah-ha.” His eyes glimmered. “I knew it. You said you wouldn’t judge me for my music taste. But that’s just how you musicians are, aren’t you?”
“I was only kidding.” I laughed. “Actually, it might surprise you, but many classical musicians are drawn to death metal—the solo sweeps in metal are virtuosically-played triadic arpeggios, which you won’t really find in other genres of music besides classical.”
“Uh …what?” He stared at me blankly. “The only thing I got out of all that is that yousecretly love death metal, Katerina.”
I snickered. “I just love music.”
Sasha walked into the room, a small backpack slung over his shoulder. I started to pull away from Derek, but Sasha stopped me.
“No, Katya!” he shouted. “You don’t have to stop for me. Please, I want you to have fun. This is my mess and I’ll clean it.”
Derek and I danced until the song ended, then it was time to get to work.
But honestly, it wasn’t even work. Dare I say it wasfun—the three of us took turns playing records, singing and dancing as we cleaned.
***
Three hours later.
Sasha, Derek, and I stood on the sidewalk, keeping our eyes peeled for Sasha’s ride to rehab. A minivan pulled up to the curb and waved at us.
“That’s him,” I said.
“Well,” Sasha said, turning to us. “Here goes nothing.”
I hugged him. “I’m so proud of you for doing this. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Thanks for talking me into it.”
Derek and Sasha hugged next, squeezing each other all macho-like and clapping each other’s backs.
“You can do it, kid,” Derek said.
“Try not to lose too much without me,” Sasha said with an overconfident wink.
“Little fucker,” Derek muttered, mussing Sasha’s hair.
After we said our byes, Sasha climbed into the van and shut the door. We watched him drive off, waving the whole time until he was out of view.
We were alone now—tired and exhausted after an eventful day. Derek put his arm around me and walked me back to his building.
“Think he can do it?” I asked nervously.
“If anyone can, it’s his crazy, stubborn ass.”
The two of us made our way back into his condo. It was a much better sight than before: all the bottles and food and other trash were bagged and thrown out, all the books and records were put back on the shelves, and Derek had taped over the broken window with a giant sheet of plastic. All we had to do now was replace the TV and coffee table that Sasha had broken and wait for the repair company to put in a new window.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked. “Should we go shopping for a new coffee table and TV?”
“Nah,” Derek said, leading me past the living room. “That can wait.”
“Oh?” My heart began to thump in my chest. “What else did you have in mind?”
He squeezed my ass, prodding me into the hallway that led to his bedroom.
“I think you know,” he whispered, his breath hot on my ear.
