Page 87 of Only After We Met

“I’m the one who kissed him,” I repeated.

“So? You or him, what does it matter?”

“He’d never have done it.”

“Ginger, you need to get out more.”

“I’m serious. If it had been up to Rhys, that kiss would never have happened. I think he just felt sorry for me. He’s a sweetie, even if he doesn’t look like it. So he just went along.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I have a long, boring summer ahead of me. Again. You working tonight?”

“No. So pick a movie, get the chocolate ice cream out of the freezer, and stop whining, okay? Don’t make me start playing the big sister. Besides, Michael’s out of town all weekend.”

Michael was our roommate. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he didn’t talk much (or at all), and he hardly came out of his room when he was around (apart from raiding the fridge or taking an hour-long shower). He was an IT guy. He had a shaved head, tattoos, and piercings in his eyebrow and tongue. When she came to visit, my mother would purse her lips every time she saw him. She didn’t like his “inelegant” appearance, as she called it, and she never understood why we wouldn’t let her pay his part of the rent so the two of us could live alone. “It would do wonders for your quality of life,” she’d said.

“Why don’t you invite Amanda over?” I asked.

“Maybe tomorrow. Today’s a Davies girls night.”

I smiled. I liked how that sounded. I got the ice cream from the freezer and flopped down next to her with two spoons in hand while she turned on the TV.

43

Rhys

Axel Nguyen lived less than a half mile from my house. I was almost certain I’d seen him out surfing by the beach. I took a look around when he invited me in and felt uncomfortable somehow when I realized this was a home and not just four walls. He was nothing like what he’d seemed when I first met him weeks before at the club. And I wanted to leave there right away, turn around and not look back.

“Sorry, it’s a fucking wreck in here. My kids, you know…” He shook his head. “I mean, why lie? It’s my fault too. I must have my newest portfolio here somewhere…”

I watched him dig through the papers, paints, and junk on top of his desk. The house was in complete disorder. But that chaos so full of life was stimulating. There were paintings on the doorframes, on the chair legs, and in some of the corners, as if they’d wanted to mark every single space, making the place unique. The living room was full of toys, and there were storybooks on the ground. While he went on opening and closing drawers, I crouched down and picked up a piece of paper.

“Wow, look at these colors,” I said.

“My kids, they’re super artistic. And of course, Leah’s the best painter in town. Actually, though, I’m the one responsible for the craziness.” He looked up at the ceiling beams with their drawings and symbols. Then he went on looking around his desk. “Ah, here it is. It was in this folder.”

I came closer and looked at the cover design for the single. All I’d told him during our informal meeting was the specifications Alexa had given me. I still hadn’t seen the final result. Axel had been in touch with Owen since then, and Owen was the one to give him the thumbs-up. It was when I saw Axel in a café that morning that he asked me if I wanted to see it. And it was every bit as good as I’d imagined.

A cliff surrounded by smoke and shadows. A red sky. The title we’d chosen, “Edges and Scars,” was at the top, and underneath,Rhys Baker feat. Alexa Goldberg.I looked at it a long time, almost surprised, as if those weeks of recordings, meetings, and rehearsals with Alexa hadn’t been real until now.

“Bro, it’s not that bad…”

“Fuck no, it isn’t. It’s perfect.”

“You were starting to scare me,” he said.

“I was just trying to take it in. It’s incredible.”

“Cool. Well, that’s that. You want a smoke?”

I told him I didn’t smoke, but that I’d go with him. We went out onto the porch, and Axel lit his cigarette. We remained quiet as we observed the stretch of the sea further off.

“Where’d you tell me you were from again?” Axel asked, expelling smoke.

“Tennessee. In the U.S.”

“What takes you so far from home?”

“Just life,” I sighed.

“Don’t you miss it?”