Dad had said very little to me on the drive back to my apartment. But when he pulled up out front, he reached over and squeezed my hand. “Come over next week for dinner, okay?”
I nodded. “Sure, Dad, I’d like that.”
I got out of his car and watched him drive slowly away, the snow falling heavily from the sky.
“That’s okay. Cole hasn’t even gotten back from Garrett’s yet. The must be still on their call with the label. I don’t know when they’ll be finished. Maysie was going to come over, but with the snow, she’s decided to stay home too. So it’s just me and a bag of Cheetos that are looking way too tempting,” Vivian said.
“Oh man, I almost forgot about the call. But I thought it was supposed to be this afternoon.” I opened the microwave and put in a packet of popcorn. I was hungry, especially since I hadn’t eaten dinner. Popcorn and soda would have to do.
“It was pushed back to five o’clock. The big wigs had another meeting that ran over. The guys really just want the whole thing done with already. It’s been dragging on long enough. Cole was on the phone with Neal earlier today. They were discussing some possible solo gigs,” Vivian revealed.
“Solo gigs? Really?” Cole going solo had been the source of a lot of hostility last year when the band was just starting to get big. I was surprised that he’d even consider it.
“Well, things are different this time, aren’t they? With Maysie being pregnant—”
“You know too?” I shrieked.
“Of course I do. Do you actually think there’s a secret that I don’t know?” Vivian remarked flippantly. “Anyway, Cole knows Jordan won’t go back on the road, and Garrett seems ready to settle down with Riley. The band is already fracturing. Generation Rejects has run its course, it would seem. And all Cole has ever wanted to do, is be on stage.”
“How do you feel about that? Him possibly going back out on the road?” I asked her, taking the popcorn out of the microwave and dumping it in a bowl.
“My man belongs on a stage. And between you and me, I like knowing other women want him, but can’t have him. It’s a hell of a turn on,” Vivian giggled.
“I would never have guessed that,” I said blandly.
“Cole Brandt is a star. But that star belongs to me. He knows it, and that’s all I really care about.”
I could hear a voice in the background. “Hey, G, Cole just got here. I’d better go. We won’t be coming back there tonight. We want to spend the night here. So I’ll see you tomorrow once the roads are clear. Bye, babe. Call me if you need me,” Vivian chirped into the phone.
“Okay, tell Cole I said hey.”
“I will. And I’ll let you know, once I talk to Cole, how things went with their phone call,” she promised.
“Sounds good. I definitely want to know,” I told her.
“All right. Later, girlie.” She hung up and I dropped my phone onto the table. I grabbed my bowl of popcorn and headed into the living room.
I turned on the TV, excited when an old episode of The Fresh Prince came on.
“In west Philadelphia, born and raised…” I started to sing.
I could hear Mitch in my mind singing along with me.
Mitch.
Why hadn’t he called or messaged me. I wondered if he had found the note and was simply ignoring me.
More importantly, I wondered how the dissolution of his band would affect him. I worried about how he was feeling. And really, I just wanted to talk to him.
But I had left the ball in his court.
There would be no pathetic phone calls from this chick.
Nope. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew where I was.
Yep.
That sounded good.
So I pulled my knees up to my chest and watched television. I laughed when Alfonso Ribeirio did the Carleton. I ate my popcorn and I tried to not think about how much I wanted Mitch beside me.
But when I fell asleep, it was with his name on my lips.
Because, for once, there was no doubt. Not anymore.
I knew what I wanted. I just hoped, for once, I got it.
Earlier that day
I woke up for the first time in a long time feeling like things were going to be okay.
Which was fucking crazy considering the phone call with Pirate was later today. That meant the official end of Generation Rejects in its current incarnation.
I was sad for the band to be over, but at the same time I was ready for whatever came next. Even though I didn’t know exactly what that was.
I got up at seven. I hadn’t been up that early since I was a kid and hadn’t ye discovered how awesome sleeping in was.
I showered and dressed, checking my phone for messages. Garrett had left me one a few hours ago saying that his flight came in around seven-thirty.
I thought about calling Gracie. There was so much I wanted to say to her.
We had a lot to sort out and it was way past due.
After leaving Jordan’s last night I had driven to Sophie’s house. She had met me outside, per usual.
“You ready to go?” she asked, heading towards my passenger side door.
“Uh, can we go inside for a minute?” I asked her, cutting off the Jeep’s engine.
Sophie looked surprised. “Why?” she asked.
“Because I need to talk to you, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit out here,” I had said testily. What was her big deal about letting me inside? It was weird.
“Um, sure. My dad isn’t home, so I guess it’s cool.” I followed her up the porch steps and waited as she unlocked the door. She flipped on the light and let me inside.
It was a normal house, nothing out of the ordinary. I half expected there to be taxidermy animals or mummified family members hanging around.
“The living room is through there. Just down the hallway,” Sophie instructed, pointing in the direction that I was expected to go. I went into the room that she had indicated and sat down on the plaid sofa.
The room smelled like tobacco smoke and air freshener. The furniture was shabby but clean. Her dad was obviously into fishing if the rods hanging on the wall were any indication.
“Here,” Sophie said, holding out a glass of water, even though I hadn’t asked for one.
“Thanks,” I had said, taking the drink. “Sophie, I think you and I need to talk— ” I had started to say.
“You’re breaking up with me,” she interrupted, taking a sip of water and appearing unbothered by the suggestion.
“Well, uh, I just think that you and I are really different—”
“Are we? How would you know that?” Sophie asked blandly.
This conversation wasn’t going well, but I had exected it.
But she had asked a really good question. How would I know that? I didn’t know much about her, except that she let me sleep with her when I was heartbroken and lonely.
Sophie leaned over and put her glass on the table. She faced me, her hands folded in her lap. “Mitch, I like you. I’ve always liked you. You’re hot. You’re sexy. You’re incredible in bed.”
“Uh, thanks,” I muttered, feeling self-conscious. Why was she listing my attributes? Where was she going with this?
“You’re in love with Gracie,” she finished, a pained smile on her face. “I knew that from the beginning.” She shook her head. “What kind of woman gets involved with someone whose heart belongs to another woman?”
“I’m so sorry, Soph. I’m an asshole,” I said, my head hanging low.
“Yeah, you are,” she agreed and I winced. I deserved that.
“But really, this is my fault. I thought I could give you time and you’d get over her. But she never. Went. Away!”
“Hold on a sec—” I started to say, but she cut me off.
“She was always around, talking to everyone like she belonged. Giving you those sad, I’m so tortured, eyes. Practically flaunting in my face that she had you first.” Sophie let out a growl of frustration. “You think I liked being the cuckold? Do you think I didn’t know that every time we were together, you wished I was her?”