Page 43 of Your Echo
Before I can protest, there are some jumbled noises from the phone being passed around, and then Matt’s girlfriend comes on the line.
“Hi, Ace.”
“Hello, Kay.”
Technically speaking, the two of us are on good terms, but I haven’t forgotten the time an article she wrote almost destroyed our band’s reputation and Matt and I’s friendship in the process. Again,technicallymost of that was Matt’s fault and not hers, andtechnicallythe thing that’s come closest to destroying the band’s reputation is me and my drinking, but that hasn’t stopped Kay and I from remaining nothing more than cordial.
“Sorry to get in the way of your, um, afternoon fun,” I tell her.
“If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead.”
“Hey,” I urge, “Matt’s the one who should be embarrassed about this situation. The fact that he sounds like Yoda when he’s getting head is definitely making it into my best man speech at your wedding.”
A wedding that, at the rate they’re going, will probably be soon. The sketchy start of their relationship aside, I’ve never seen the dude so happy. If I were him, I would have asked her already. Any girl who can put up with his cult-like devotion to Sherbrooke Station’s success is a keeper in my books.
Kay laughs. “You know what? I’ve never thought of it before, but hedoessometimes sound like Yoda when he’s getting head.”
I hear Matt in the background, shouting at us both to fuck off.
“Look,” Kay continues, “I, um, couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, and as the only person here who has actual experience with what it’s like to date a member of Sherbrooke Station, I thought I’d pitch in. I think Matt’s right. This girl clearly wants to havesomethingwith you, whether that’s an actual relationship or not. You just have to give her time to come to terms with her own feelings. She’s probably spent weeks telling herself not to think of you as anything other than a student, and now she has to undo all that work.”
“You think?” I ask.
“Matt was only ever supposed to be my source. He had a lot of work to do, winning me over to the dark side.”
She lets out a sudden squeak, and I assume Matt just did something inappropriate to her.
“Okay,” I say quickly, “I’ll think about that. I have a meditation class with her today. I was hoping we’d get our shit sorted out before that, but I guess I’m going in blind.”
“She’s probably waiting to see you in person,” Kay assures me, and then squeaks again.
These two and their weird sex noises. It’s enough to give a guy nightmares.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
I’m about to hang up, but Matt shouts for me to wait again and then takes hold of the phone.
“You got the message from Maxime, right? About the party on Saturday?”
Atlas just hooked us up with a director for the ‘Nevermore’ music video, and apparently we’re supposed to show our faces at an ‘entertainment networking event’ in someone’s huge-ass loft while the director scopes out cast members.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Is that going to be...a problem for you? I think everyone will be drinking.”
“I’ll be fine,” I grit out. “Now go back to getting your dick sucked.”
He seems only too happy to oblige and hangs up right away. I spend the hour I have before meditation class restringing one of my guitars and deciding which of the clothes on my floor need to go in the laundry.
When I’m finally standing outside the AMM house, I pause on the crooked doorstep. Despite Matt and Kay’s assurances that Stéphanie clearly feels something for me, I’m not convinced. It felt physically painful to watch her walk away from me after we kissed, and if she can ignore the pull between us that easily, then maybe it’s not as strong for her as it is for me. Maybe I’m walking into the end of this, instead of the beginning.
I open the door and kick my shoes off before rounding the corner into the library. There’s a middle-aged man sitting on one of the folding chairs.
“You’re Ace Turner?” he asks in a French accent.
“Yeah,” I answer cautiously.
He stands up and offers me his hand. “I’m Luc. Stéphanie couldn’t make it in today, so I’ll be covering your session instead. I hope that is all right?”
I barely even feel his hand in mine as he shakes it.
“Is she sick?” I ask.
“She had a last minute conflict with her schedule at her other job. She’s very sorry.”
This definitely feels more like an end than a beginning.
