The Art of Us

Chapter Ten

Kal

Kal snapped his fingers as he paced in the school parking lot. Part of him wanted to storm back into Wasden’s art room to make sure Ireland was okay. Another part—the rational, sane part—wanted to drive away and wait to see her until it was all over. She’d meet him at Geppetto’s. She would tell him what all went down then. Wasden had assured him that he had a living arrangement set up for Ireland and that he would get her moved in after they met together. He assured Kal that Ireland wouldn’t spend any more nights alone in the woods.

Gotta trust the guy , Kal thought and finally stopped snapping and pacing and instead got in his car and drove home.

Of course, he still snapped and paced once he got home and made it to his room. His out-of-control emotions were awesome times zero. He needed to have it together so that when he saw Ireland that night, he could be there for her.

His bedroom door opened, and his friend Cooper poked his head in. “Dude, ’sup?”

“Not much.” He had to lie because there was no way to explain to Cooper about Ireland without it being weird. “What about you?”

Cooper sat at the desk. “Yeah. Same. Not much. Just feel like I’m in a Wonkaverse sometimes.”

“Am I supposed to . . . ?”

“What?” Cooper pulled a couple of pens from the Darth Vader mug and drummed them on the desk.

“Know what the Wonkaverse is?”

The drumming stopped. “You know. When the whole universe feels like it’s all wonky.”

Kal laughed. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”

“No. Maybe. I’m not sure, actually. I mighta heard it somewhere. But maybe not.”

“You’re early.” Coming home to worry about Ireland suddenly seemed like a good idea. The band members were either on time or a few minutes late. No one was ever early.

Cooper frowned and checked his phone as if he thought Kal was lying about him being early. “Yeah. Needed to get out of my head for a minute.”

“You okay?”

The drumming on the desk had started up again. “Yeah. It’s just the Wonkaverse.”

Kal had his own case of nuclear anxiety and didn’t have the ability to deal with Cooper’s nerves too, so he moved to the door. “Let’s head to the back building. The others should be showing up pretty soon.” The back building was a mother-in-law apartment. They’d meant to have Kal’s grandpa stay there so he would still have his autonomy, but when they realized how bad off his grandpa was physically, they decided to keep him with them in the main house. Kal’s parents had let Kal take over the back building for the band’s practice. They’d been using the back half of Asha’s garage before. Her parents were glad to have the whole operation relocated so they could use that space to park an Indian Sport Chief motorcycle that Asha’s dad had been wanting.

Cooper followed Kal to the back building. Once inside, Kal opened the mini fridge and got himself a bottle of seltzer water. “Want one?” he asked Cooper, who had wandered over to Bailey’s drum set and tapped his fingers on the cymbals, making a slushy tisk sound with his every tap.

“No. Thanks. Maybe a Coke?”

Kal fished a can of Coke from the fridge and handed it to Cooper, who opened it, took a long swig, and then moved like he was going to set the open can down on the vintage amplifier that Kal had adorned with stickers from his favorite bands. Kal narrowed his eyes at his friend and gave a small shake of his head. Cooper caught the meaning and pulled his hand back, still holding the can.

Sometimes that guy didn’t think things through. He knew what the amp meant to Kal. If anyone spilled anything on it, Kal was pretty sure he’d lose it. It had been his grandpa’s. Two of the stickers on it were old and weathered. His grandpa had been the one to place them. One for Rush and one for Queen.

Kal’s dad had wanted to throw the amp away, but Kal had saved it from the garbage heap.

Cooper finished his drink, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the can as if he was anxious about something.

Asha came in just as Kal was about to ask Cooper what was up again. Her blue-green hair was in one long braid that hung over her shoulder. It matched the little blue-green heart she’d painted on her cheekbone. Asha pulled her guitar from its case and started lightly tugging the strings, running her fingers up and down the length of them.

“New strings?” Kal asked her.

“Yeah. It was time.” She turned on a tuning app on her phone as she adjusted the tuning keys and saddle.

“Hands off the drums, Cooper.”

Cooper jumped up at hearing Bailey’s voice and splayed his hands out as if to prove they were empty. “I was just sitting there. I wasn’t touching them.”

“I heard the cymbals as I was walking up.” Bailey walked around the wires coiled together on the floor like spilled pasta and shooed Cooper out of her way.

Asha laughed at Cooper getting caught.

Bailey smirked. “Pick up your sticks, and let’s play. We don’t have a lot of time before we have to get to Geppetto’s,” she said, settling herself in front of her drums.

She was right. The late afternoon light coming from the back building’s windows was now so dim that it cast elongated shadows across the whole space. They plugged in and started rehearsing the songs they’d agreed to play for the night.

Asha adjusted the strap on her shoulder and struck the first few chords, her fingers dancing along the fretboard, producing an upbeat sound to set the tone for the song. Cooper on bass added depth to the melody, and Bailey smiled full on as she powered through the complex rhythm, her sticks a controlled sort of chaos. Kal was pretty sure the only time Bailey smiled with her whole face like that was when she played.

The celebratory song, “Cry Free!,” burst with positive energy. Asha had written it, and the song seemed to match her personality. Kal began to sing the lyrics, with Asha joining in after the first stanza. When they got to the chorus, Cooper joined in.

Cause we’re livin’ in the moment, lookin’ to a future so bright,

We’re dancin’ in the moonlight all through the night.

Come take my hand. We’ll make new memories.

We’re gonna shout out to the world, “I am free!”

This particular song had done well for them. The audience loved it. They loved shouting “I am free” along with the band. By the third night they’d played it, they’d gained a modest following of people who came just to hear that song. It was fun and shifted Kal’s mood as he locked into the music, lifting the energy of the back building into something light, making him feel as free as the song declared him to be.

It ended with the last beat of Bailey’s sticks on her drums, and they all burst out laughing—even Bailey. It didn’t matter how many times they played it; that song always set the tone for a good time.

Even Cooper seemed lighter. They played a couple more songs, then gathered their gear and headed to Geppetto’s.

Kal’s anxiety spiked again. Would Ireland be there already, waiting for him? Wasden had promised to not mention Kal when he handled things with Ireland.

When he walked into the restaurant, his eyes scanned through all the people, but he didn’t see her. Ireland wasn’t there yet.

“You look like you might be sick, Superman. You okay?” Asha asked.

“Me? Sure. ’Course.”

She clapped his back. “You looking for Lois Lane?”

“Lois Lane?”

“Ireland. I see the way you light up when she’s around. It’s magic, I tell you. I even started writing a song about it. I’ll let you see it when it’s done.”

“She’s just a friend.”

“Right. And I’m just an average guitarist ... See what I did there? Because you know there is nothing average about me, and there’s nothing as average as basic friendship with you and this girl.”

Kal grinned at her. “Nothing average at all.”

“Who’s average?” Cooper had joined them.

Asha made a tsking sound. “Well, Coop, we didn’t want to make you feel bad or anything, but yeah, we’ve been talking about your lack of practice lately ...”

Cooper’s face splotched like a crushed tomato. “You kidding me? Check these calluses and tell me I don’t practice.”

Kal and Asha both laughed. “Dude, she’s messing with you. You know you’re a rockstar. Let’s go play and show off all your practice.”

Asha checked her pink-rhinestone-bedazzled phone. “Yep. We’re up.”

As the band got into place, Kal swept his gaze over the audience once again to search for any sign of Ireland. Was she not coming? Had she ended up in a home where they didn’t let her go out with her friends? What if he’d landed her in a situation that was worse than her living alone in the woods?

That wouldn’t make sense. They had a date. Whoever she went to live with would understand that. Right? He really should’ve talked to Wasden before he’d left school. It would be good to know where Ireland was going and what her life would look like once she got there.

He took a deep breath as Asha led with the first few chords. He forced thoughts of Ireland out of his head for the moment. He had to stay present so he didn’t mess things up for the band. They had a good gig with Geppetto’s and had even booked a few extra appearances outside of the restaurant. Not that he thought they were going to be the next big-deal band, but what they did was good and fun. And he didn’t want to be the reason they broke up. He began to sing, with Asha joining in after a moment.

They were almost through the second set with only two songs left, and Ireland still hadn’t shown up. That could only mean she wasn’t going to show up at all. Kal just had to face the fact. He hated it, but what could he do? The smell of baking cheeses and meats churned his stomach for the first time ever. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He had every intention of leaving as soon as this last set was done.

The next song, “Checkmate,” was more of a breakup ballad. Asha had written it when her last boyfriend ended things with her. Even though they were playing mostly love songs in honor of the holiday, this one still felt like a love song. It had a haunting quality to it that most people liked, and Asha and Kal sang it as a duet. He worried his thoughts might spill out into the lyrics as he sang, but he forced himself to focus. Asha’s clear voice wove with his. The words tasted like salt and sugar fighting for space on his tongue. Through a lens of relationships, more specifically of his relationship with Ireland, the song’s deeper meaning burrowed its way into his soul.

Our pieces chase each other on the black-and-white-checked board

A violent sea between us, our moves tallied, each one scored

The game is silent subterfuge. Am I the queen? Am I the pawn?

No. Don’t tell. I’ll know the truth when one of us is gone

Gray shadows mock the two of us, more than hinting at our fate

How my marble heart will sink at the inevitable checkmate

Kal didn’t love singing about breakups when it felt like he was in the middle of one. Of course, they hadn’t really been together, so how could they be breaking up?

You are ridiculous. But he didn’t have time to think about it since the band finished “Checkmate” and was shifting gears into the energy needed for their last number.

The rolling force of the song “Cry Free!” swept him up along with it, reaching tsunami heights that felt like it all crashed down when Ireland opened the door and entered the restaurant.

She sat down at the table they’d sat at before. The pizzas were out and waiting for them already, but she didn’t reach to take any. Had she already eaten? Was she okay with the new living arrangement? She had to be, right? She had to be happier with the idea of being safe.

Kal tried to check the temperature of her emotional well-being, but she didn’t make eye contact with him. Was she mad? Maybe. But if she was mad at him, would she have bothered to show up for their date? He’d almost kissed her earlier, and now he realized that he might have missed the chance forever.

“I am free!” The crowd shouted with the band, making up for the fact that Kal’s voice faltered. He steeled himself against the anxiety that swelled in his stomach so he could finish the song. When the last shout of “I am free!” filled the room, the crowd erupted with cheers and applause. Kal rolled his head to stretch out the tension in his neck muscles and tried to smile and wave at the audience. He thanked everyone for coming to hear them play and invited them back for Saturday. He put his guitar in its case, hopped off the stage, and hurried to join Ireland at the table.

“You made it!” He tried to sound cheerful. Could she tell that he was forcing it? He’d never been a very good liar.

“Yeah. I uh ... I made it.” Ireland avoided eye contact as if he were Medusa and she’d turn to stone if their gazes met.

Kal lowered his voice to keep Asha and Bailey, who were just now joining them, from overhearing. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. Are you done for the night?”

He bent his head to try to force her to look at him. “Yeah. We’re done. Want to get out of here?” Cooper had bailed as soon as the set was over so he could meet his other friends wherever they were partying for the night.

“And go where?” she asked.

He shrugged, even though she wasn’t looking and couldn’t see. “Wherever you want.”

“I have to be back by eleven.”

She spat those words with fiery fury. His blood pressure spiked.

“Me too.” It wasn’t true exactly. His mom liked him home earlier, but she gave him until midnight when he played with the band.

“We can stay here.”

So they stayed. Not because he wanted to. He wanted to be alone with her so they could talk, so she could tell him everything that had happened. No way could he try to coax information out of her with everyone at the table.

Kal could almost hear time ticking down on the vintage Coca-Cola clock on the wall, each tick of the minute hand taking them closer to eleven. Asha and Ireland talked about the mural and their favorite things that other people had added to it. Bailey ate pizza and scrolled through her phone. He just sat there, trying to figure out what to say or do. “I better go,” Ireland said, checking the time on her own phone, even though Kal felt certain she’d been sneaking glances at the Coca-Cola clock too.

He stood. “Okay. I’ll take you home.”

She opened her mouth with a look that made him brace himself to be told by her, yet again, that she didn’t need a ride home. But she just said, “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you around, guys.” She nodded to Bailey and Asha.

Kal scrambled to gather his gear so that Ireland didn’t take off without him. Since she’d done it before, he didn’t think he was being paranoid to worry. Once they were outside and loaded into his car, he started it and flicked the seat heaters on since the night was stupid cold and Ireland was already rubbing her hands together to warm them up.

“Where to?” he asked. This was the moment he would find out what happened. He would know where she now lived. She would tell him where she had been living. She would tell him how she got there. She would trust him. She would tell him everything.

Except she didn’t. She pulled out her phone and read an address to him.

Kal felt like she’d kicked his kneecaps. Was she really not going to tell him anything? Not that she owed him her story if she didn’t want to give it, but over the past couple of weeks he’d told her everything about himself.

Not everything.

He hadn’t told her about Brell.

When Kal made the turn Ireland had indicated, his headlights flashed over the familiar neighborhood.

“Here,” Ireland said.

He stopped and looked at the mini mansion. “This is Mara’s house.”

“Yep.” She took several deep breaths like she was practicing yoga.

“You’re staying at Mara’s house?”

“Apparently.”

“Are you guys friends?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t think I . . .”

“My dad’s in jail. I needed a place to stay. Mr. Wasden arranged this.”

“Oh. That’s nice. I mean, not nice about your dad. Nice of Mr. Wasden.”

“If you say so.”

He wanted to insist that he did say so, mostly because her being grouchy toward Mr. Wasden for helping her felt like she was being grouchy at him . “It’s better than—” He almost said that it was better than living in a bathroom but stopped himself since she didn’t know that he knew. “Being alone,” he finished.

“Mara’s a shrew.”

Kal was suddenly positive that Ireland had no intention of telling him about her living in the bathroom in the woods. He was also certain that she would never talk to him again if he revealed that he’d played any part in her relocation to Mara Washington’s house, which hardly seemed fair because Mara’s stone-and-stucco house was more like a manor. Anyone would want to live there. He searched for something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. Ireland opened the car door. “I better go in. Thanks, Kal. I’ll see you later.”

“Want me to walk you to the door?”

“I’m pretty sure I can manage.”

That wasn’t exactly what he’d asked. He was pretty sure she could manage too. He was asking if she wanted to be with him for that extra moment. He hadn’t been prepared for the resounding no . “Right.” His hands gripped the steering wheel until his muscles cramped in his fingers. He had thought that the evening would be something fun and romantic. Watching it shatter into a classic disaster had not been part of the plan.

She shut the car door.

He waited until she was inside the house before muttering, “Awesome times zero.”