It felt like you’d time traveled back to the fall, back to the parties and the falling-in-love, as you got yourself ready for the show. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands shaky with nerves as you perfected every strand of hair in the mirror. Was your outfit cute enough? Did your makeup look nice enough? Would anyone think your necklaces were cute? Should you take these earrings off? Your mind ran a mile a minute, anxiety coursing through your veins as if you were about to go on a first date with the man of your dreams.
Sam would be knocking on your door any minute to take you over to the house. It’d been a beautiful day, the weather still nice enough to walk even as the sun dipped below the horizon. When the knock finally came, you could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. You opened the door, greeting Sam with a hug, your arms scraping against the sequined fabric of the jacket he wore. His chest was bare, his collarbone bearing a mark you’d left who-knows-how-long ago.
“You might wanna cover that up,” you said softly, trailing your fingers over it.
“Why? It’s kinda rock and roll, don’t you think?” He gave you a half-smile, before taking your hand and leading you out of the building.
The smell of summer was on the warm breeze that blew between the buildings. Music thumped loudly from every other house on the block, rings of lawn chairs and piles of cans decorating most yards. Despite the residual aches in your heart, and the anxiety that still gnawed at the back of your mind, things felt alright.
The two of you finally strolled up to the house, cars lining the street outside. The porch was adorned with the usual attention to detail you were used to seeing from the family. A wreath of plastic tulips hung on the door, and the hammock, which had been missing during the winter months, was swapped out for one that bore pastel hues and cream-colored ropes.
Inside, the house was warm with the heat of dozens of bodies. It was just as overwhelming this time as any, and you stuck close to Sam. The brothers were in deep conversation with a group, but they noticed you immediately, cutting off their sentences to greet you.
“You’re here!” Josh exclaimed, stepping around the crowd to pull you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming. It’s so nice to see you.” He trailed his arms down to your biceps, giving them a firm squeeze. “You look lovely, as always.”
You blushed a bit as his compliments, his words never failing to warm your heart. “Thank you. You look nice too.” He was dressed in the typical attire he’d wear for shows, tight shiny pants and some kind of eclectic top.
The time before the show passed quickly, almost too quickly, with Sam keeping a distance from you as he mingled with the crowd. You felt a bit lost without him by your side, sticking close to at least one of his brothers, trying desperately to contribute something to the conversations with strangers. When it was time, you followed the crowd out to the garage, sitting in the grass nearby and watching as the group set everything up, testing their instruments, tuning, checking that everything was right.
You stayed off to the side as the rest of the partygoers filed out from the house, drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces as they waited to hear the band play. It was a great show, every attendee grateful to hear them playing in a more raw, real format than their usual performances at bars. Every song had you captivated, and you even knew some of the words by this point.
In the middle of a song, one you hadn’t heard before, you were struck by something you hadn’t felt before. A realization, or perhaps an intuition. These four, what they were doing here, it was going to be big. Far bigger than what it was right now, jamming for free to an audience of a few dozen. You could almost see it, like a vision, them on a stage far bigger than this. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, lining the stands and knowing every word. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t put words to it if you’d tried, but you just knew. They had something going here. Something very, very special.
Your eyes were fixed on Sam the entire time. The way he moved his body, the way his fingers moved, every expression he made, it was all entrancing to you. When he came bounding over to you after the show, glistening with sweat, it took every ounce of willpower in your body not to pounce on him like a feral animal.
“Did you like it?” He asked, a bit breathless. “The new song? I don’t think you’ve heard that one yet.”
“I loved it! It was so, like…different. I don’t know how to describe it.”
He talked at you for a while about it, getting into the technical details, and the things that inspired it. Though you only understood a solid half of what he was saying, you listened intently, hanging off of every word. You felt blessed to simply be in his presence, to be able to talk with him like this. It had been a while since the two of you had felt so normal.
A small part of you wanted to take Sam’s hand in yours and drag him back to his bedroom. But another part, the more sane part, wanted to stay right here. In all honesty, this was enough. Just being able to talk with him, under the dusky sky, both of your voices raised above the commotion around you, was like a piece of heaven. Eventually, the two of you wandered back inside, to the comfort of the living room and the brief silence while everyone else was outside.
“So, there’s something I want to tell you, but I swore I wouldn't tell anyone,” he said, his tone far too nonchalant, as he handed you a drink he’d just finished making for you in the kitchen. “Can you keep a secret?”
You gave him a quizzical look, your head cocked to the side. “A secret? Are you sure you should trust me with it?”
He nodded. “I feel like I have to tell you, or I’m gonna explode.”
“Alright. Lay it on me.”
“Well…” He suddenly looked very nervous, his fingers fidgeting with the condensation-soaked glass in his hands. “Nothing’s official yet. And I don’t really know the ins and outs of it all. But we’re pretty sure Jake’s going to land us a record deal. Soon.”
“That’s incredible news, Sammy! Congratulations!” You reached a hand out, resting it on his knee and inching a bit closer to him.
“Yeah. I don’t really know what the whole thing means, to be honest with you,” he said with a short laugh. “That’s not really my wheelhouse. That’s all Jake’s side of the ship. But if all goes well, we’re gonna go record some shit. An actual album, not just recorded in someone's basement.”
“Are you serious?” You ask with a wide grin, excitement welling up in your body. “I can finally force everyone to listen to you guys?”
“Yeah, I expect to hear our shit blasting from your headphones at every opportunity.”
“I can do one better. I’ll walk around campus with a stereo on my shoulder playing it.”
The two of you exchanged a laugh, and for just a moment, things felt entirely normal. But he spoke again.
“So, the plan is, after the album, and once summer break comes, we…want to tour. For a while. At least until next semester.”
“A tour?” Your stomach sank, your palms started to sweat, and you felt a bit dizzy. You slumped back down against the couch, your mind racing. In the back of your mind, you always knew this was a possibility. You'd feared it a bit, prayed this day would never come, when you'd be left behind while the closest friends you'd ever known went gallivanting across the country.
“Yes. I…we’ll be gone for a few months, at least. Jake is already making lists of venues he wants to play. We’ll just barely be making a profit, but we have to get our name out there. Nobody knows us outside of this dumb little college town.”
The question hung in the back of your throat, unsaid yet screamed in your mind so loud you could scarcely hear anything else. When it finally came out of your mouth, it was weak, defeated. “Can I come?”
Sam’s smile faded, his expression stony and unreadable. “I don’t know.” It seemed like there were a thousand implications behind those three words. A million more words behind them that couldn’t be said out loud, but passed between the two of you like some kind of mental tennis match.
You knew better than to push it any further, so you left it alone. Took his answer at face value for now, to be addressed at a later time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with, but with the way things were, it surely wasn’t a good idea. The two of you shouldn’t even be talking like this at all. It was like you’d completely forgotten about your promises to forget each other, forgot about your willingness to be alone and heal. The pull to be in the same place at the same time, in whatever form that took, was too strong.
The silence between the two of you was heavy and long, and you were certain you would have stayed that way forever if Danny hadn’t come crashing through the door soon after. He looked between the two of you, a smile on his face and a drink in his hand.
He gestured between you and Sam, his every movement conveying just how wasted he was already, somehow. “Hey. You two friends again, or what?”
You and Sam stumbled over each others' words, rushing out hurried and half-sensical explanations. Danny only stared with wide eyes as you both tried to explain, told him to leave, told him to stay, argued and agreed all at once, your voices tangling into a loud mess of chaos and hand gestures.
“Jesus. Sorry I asked,” Danny said, backing his way slowly out of the house, his hands raised in defense.
When he was gone, and silence fell on the room again, you heard a sound. The sound of muffled, stifled laughter. Your eyes landed on Sam, his hand thrown across his mouth, his eyes squinted as he held back a laugh.
“I think we scared him,” you said, the hint of barely-suppressed giggles tainting every word.
The two of you burst into laughs, the kind where you were both grabbing each other for support, doubled over, one hand on your stomach.
“Did you see his face? God, we need to go say sorry or something!” Sam said, gasping for air between every word.
It wasn’t all that funny, but that only seemed to make it even more funny in your head. That, and the absurdity of the whole situation. You felt like you hadn’t been able to feel joy in weeks now. This was like a blessing, a glimpse of heaven, a vision into what could be and what will never be.
“So are we friends again?” You asked, wiping a tear from your eye as the last of the giggles died down.
“Good question. I guess…I want to say that’s up to you, but…” he trailed off, unsure of what exactly he was trying to say.
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am. I'm very happy. But I worry.” The rest of his sentence went unsaid, but you knew him well enough to know exactly where his worries lied.
“Well, I should go,” you said quietly. “I should get home before it gets too late.”
You started to stand up from the couch, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with gentle, calloused fingers.
“Don’t. Stay.” There was a pleading edge to his words, and it pulled at every single string of your heart.
“Sam, we can’t. We can’t keep doing this,” you protested, though making no move to pull away. “It’s not good for us. We shouldn't even be talking.”
“I know, I know, it’s just…I have nobody else.”
“You have your family. Your friends. You have to let me go. You can’t keep pulling me back, not after what I did.”
“But, I…”
You could see the conflict in his eyes, the painful internal struggle he was facing. The two of you were caught in some kind of cycle. He needed you, he wanted you, he would die for you. You needed him all the same. But you’d hurt him, betrayed him, lied to him. And he’d made his own share of mistakes. You both kept saying you needed time, telling yourselves you had to get away from the other, but you could never run away. You’d always circle right back to each other. You would protest, say you shouldn’t, say it’s bad for you, but it was impossible to resist the temptation.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he said, releasing his grip on your wrist.
You sat back down, despite your better judgment. “I don’t know either.”
“God, you’re just so beautiful, it hurts to look at you sometimes.” He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s like torture, seeing all those feelings behind your eyes, knowing there’s nothing I can do to fix this easily.”
“Maybe we should stop trying to fix it.” You shifted a bit closer to him, and the scent of him was intoxicating. “Maybe we should actually stick to the plan. No contact.”
“You know we can’t do that.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, his touch electric.
“Then…what are we supposed to do?”
“Same thing we always do, I guess.”
The rest of the night was lost in a tipsy, pleasure-clouded haze as he whisked you up to his bedroom. Hours later, there you lay, naked with him, your body battered and sore in the best way. It was a classic tale at this point, the same one every week. It felt too good to stop it, you needed him too much, your resolve was too weak to tell yourself no. But it wasn’t hurting anything, was it?
When you fell asleep in his arms, you had to wonder if this was all that bad. Breaking your own rules couldn’t possibly be such a grave sin if it felt this good. Though you had to wonder if this was it, if it would get any better than this. The mental gymnastics, the constant emotional agony, was that really all you had in store? Although, if it would end like this every time, there were certainly worse ways to suffer.
* * *
You were gone, back in your dorms. Sam had driven you back early, demanding that you get some rest and relaxation with what was left of your weekend. He’d returned back to the house, under the guise of going back to help clean up, though his motives were far from that. He crept into the house quietly, waiting patiently to see who would be awake upon his return. On the couch, Jake sat, his feet up on the coffee table in the small space he’d carved out from the piles of cans and cups. A bloody mary was in his hand, half-drank, the garnishes all still uneaten.
The two eyed each other for what felt like hours, not speaking. Since the fight, they’d avoided each other a bit more. There had been disagreements like this in the past, sure, but nothing like this. This was uncharted territory, and neither brother knew how to navigate it. Sam knew he needed to talk to Jake. It was the entire reason he’d come back to the house today at all. But, god, was he dreading it.
Jake spoke first, his voice quiet and level. “Do you want to talk?”
Sam nodded, sitting down on the chair beside the couch. He was every emotion but relaxed in this moment. “We should.”
“Well, first off, sorry I decked you.”
“Sorry I started it.”
Jake cracked a half-smile, taking another sip from his drink. “Mom would be pissed if she knew we were still fighting like that.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t even remember the last time we did something like that.”
“I’m just glad Danny and Josh were there to break it up.”
“Yeah, we probably would have killed each other.” Sam laughed a bit, though it was an empty sound.
“Alright. Let me say my piece, then you can say yours. Deal?” Jake asked, taking one more sip of his drink and setting it down on the table.
“Go ahead. I won’t interrupt.”
“So, I’m sorry I did all that. I…genuinely didn’t realize at the time that you and her were so serious. And I’m not lying. I knew you guys were close, and I had my suspicions, but I hadn’t had any, uh, proof until that night.”
Sam had plenty he wanted to say in return, but kept his mouth shut, biting at the corners of his lip to keep himself quiet.
“I got a little possessive. Maybe…maybe even a little jealous. I should have just tried to clear things up before I got mad. She’s just such a catch, you know? But she doesn’t want me like she wants you. And I have to respect that.” Jake took a pause, breaking eye contact to stare down at his hands, rubbing his fingers against a callus. “I figured she was only using me to get to you. Or to make you mad. That pissed me off. But she’s a good girl, and I don’t think she was acting with deliberate malicious intent. She was sad and hurt, because she couldn't have you, and I just happened to be there to help kill the pain. That's not your fault.”
There was a long pause, and Sam realized it was his turn to speak. “But that was pain that I caused her. I should have never put her through all that. I just figured she didn’t like me.”
Jake sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You both fucked up. But it’s not like you were both out here with daggers in your cloaks taking every chance you got to backstab the other. It was poor communication, and what I assume to be bad flirting.”
“Yeah, heavy on the bad flirting part,” Sam smiled to himself. “I have no idea how you do it.”
“I’d teach you, if I thought you’d need to use it. But you’ve already got the girl of the century waiting on your doorstep for you.”
Sam paused, pondering Jake’s words. “Either way, I’m sorry I lashed out. But this seems to be a common thread. I find someone, you end up seducing them, and I lose them. I couldn’t handle the thought of it happening again, especially not with her. She’s different. So I got mad at both of you.”
“I understand that. And though I can put some of the blame on myself, most of it lies with her. She made her bed.” Jake’s tone was nonchalant, but it felt forced. He didn't like this either, as much of your fault as it may be.
“I know. But I can’t live without her, I’m sure you’re able to tell. As much as I wish we could both just forget the whole thing, it’s not possible. She’s…really special to me. I can’t even describe it.”
“I know. I can tell.”
“So I have to be able to fix this. There has to be some way. I’ve been agonizing over it for weeks now, and nothing seems good enough. No apologies or cute dates will ever put us back to the way we were before.”
Jake thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “No, you can’t go back to the way you were before. But that doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. She never meant to hurt you. And even if she did, she regrets it, and it will never happen again.” He draws a breath, locking eyes with Sam, his gaze stern. “You don’t have to worry about me. I want the best for you, and for her. She deserves it.”
“I know, I agree with everything you’re saying. But I don’t know what to do.”
“The way I see it, you’ve got three options.” Jake held up three fingers, counting each one off as he spoke. “One, you’re going to cut her off and pretend she never existed. Move on with someone else, someone you don’t have history with. Leave her here while we’re on tour. Two, you’re going to continue this dumb little game you’re playing with her, and break both of your hearts in the process. Or three, you’re going to man the fuck up, talk it out, get over what happened, and ask her to date you.”
Sam mulled it over for a long time. Jake's words were harsh, but he was saying what needed to be said. There was, really, only one way out of this. “But what about the tour? If I ask her to date me, I’ll just have to leave her again in a month, anyway.
“Then bring her with us. If we take the deal, there would be room in the back for one extra person. Wouldn’t hurt us at all, and I’m certain Josh and Danny wouldn’t mind. And if they do, they can tell me, and I’ll tell them to fuck off.”
“And what if she says no?”
Jake shrugged. “Then at least you did everything you could.”
Sam was silent for a bit, thinking it over, weighing his options.
Jake spoke first, his words slow and calculated. “There’s one thing I know for certain. If she’s still willing to try, after all of this, after everything the two of you have gone through, you need to take that chance. She loves you. She seriously loves you. Don’t let this be the biggest regret of your life, Sammy.”
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