Everything Fails. T Van Santana

of sticks, somewhat triumphantly.

      I sneered at him, and his face went sour.

      “Rabbit,” I said. “Get the fuck up. Time to play.”

      Rabbit pushed away from the wall, opened his eyes, and picked up the guitar. “Le’s do it.”

      I gave Horace the cue to fire us up.

      He nodded, then made us electric, amplified, and surrounded in lights and scents.

      I went to speak and lost my voice. My eyes went straight to her. There were a hundred or more people there, and she was all I could see, dark and lovely, eyes full of dangerous intent.

      She was with Peach. I had no issue with Peach. We were cool. Not close, but cool. I wasn’t loving seeing Peach with her like that, but it’s whatever.

      I leaned over to Danielle. “Who’s that with Peach?”

      “Huh? Oh, lemme see. Oh wait, I can’t see shit because there’s fuckin’ lights in my eyes.”

      “All right, all right. Don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

      “Can we start the fucking show, please?” Tij said.

      I flipped the mic on. “Fine. Let’s start the fucking show.”

      That went over well, for whatever reason, and the crowd got excited. It’s like that with me sometimes.

      The show’s a blur, like they always were. One long, one-sided conversation interrupted by periods of music and singing and feeling like I’m being watched but not seen, heard but not listened to. The lights were hot, which kept my blood warm when it went cold, and the scents were enough to keep me distracted from my failing nerves.

      Then my voice amp went out.

      I cut my eyes at Horace, who put his hands up.

      “Fuckin’ fix it!” I yelled.

      Rabbit’s drunk ass kept shredding, cigarette dangling from loose lips.

      Horace shook his head and went to work on it. But instead of getting me back, we lost Danielle.

      I wanted to walk off the stage. What a fucking nightmare. But instead, I just acted like this was how it was supposed to be, and pulled out a smoke. I lit up, stood there, swaying to the music, smoking.

      Rabbit went out during a sustained note, so that was lucky timing. He didn’t notice right away, though, and kept tearing it up without sound.

      Tij let the beat ride for a moment or two, then brought it down.

      We got a decent enough response from the crowd. I waved, walked off the stage.

      The manager met me halfway. I was ready to punch him, if it came to that.

      “Great set,” he said. “Thanks for helping us out in a pinch.”

      I smiled. “Yeah man. No problem.”

      “You can get your bits at the bar.”

      I looked over at the bar, saw Peach there with, well, whoever she was.

      I tapped the manager, “Hey, who’s that with Peach?”

      He glanced over. “That’s Mickie.”

      “Mickie,” I said.

      “Yeah. She’s trouble.”

      I heard it, but I wasn’t really listening.

      12 | All Over Again

      I walked from the bay over to the house where the pool party was goin’ on. Danielle and Terry were making out on one of those long beach chairs. Danielle’s got her shirt off.

      The stone path wound by the pool, past Penguin and Roxy, who were tongue kissing in the shallow end.

      Horace popped out from the flexible fielded porch, just off the kitchen. “Anyone want margaritas? ‘Cause I’m making fucking margaritas. Got fresh limes and everything. Fresh limes.”

      I smiled. “I’ll take one.”

      “Well, I know you want one. Here ya go.” Horace gave me a drink. “Kick it back.”’

      “It’s a fuckin’ daiquiri.”

      “No, it’s a margarita.”

      I shrugged. “Whatever. It’s gonna take a minute. Chems in here?”

      “Like you like. Gonna be a ride for everybody else.”

      I looked around at who was there. Penguin. Roxy. Danielle. Terry. Johnette, who was looking fine in her bathing suit by the diving board, feet in the water. The Reptile was supposed to stop by later. I hoped he wouldn’t. We’d had a kind of falling out.

      “Yeah, I think they’ll be fine,” I said. “This is a ramblin’ crew here, my brother.”

      Horace sipped from the pitcher.

      “Ew. Use a glass.”

      “What? It’s sterile. Chems kill everything.”

      “So are you gonna talk to Jonnie tonight?” I asked.

      Horace went pale. “I dunno. I dunno.”

      “If you don’t, I will.”

      “She’s your friend.”

      “Yeah, but she likes you. Least I think she does. You gotta at least try to open up, Horace …”

      “I’m still fucked up over Wendy,” Horace said.

      “I get it. But keeping sad about it isn’t gonna help. Trust me. I know.”

      He looked in the glass, at the lime floating in the slush. Then he took a big gulp, put the whole thing back. He wiped the dribble from his chin. “Yeah. You’re right. Here I go, here I go.”

      I nodded. “Good. Just try. It’ll be okay.”

      He nodded again and walked chin-first over to Johnette.

      She smiled up at him, patted the spot next to her on the edge of the pool.

      I took a sip of the drink, felt that old familiar in my chest.

      I knew the inside of the house well. The spiraled rooms and the hall of hallways. The bathrooms. I’d been going there since I was eleven, even though Horace’s grandparents fucking hated me. I went in the hall bathroom, locked the door, and started crying.

      Mickie flooded my mind. My failing nerves surged with memories of her. I let my hands remember her, too. But it wasn’t me I was seeing with her. I tried to force them out of my mind, but I couldn’t.

      I heard a knock at the door.

      “Yeah?”

      “It’s me. Horace. It’s Horace. Are you, um, you know … busy?”

      I wiped my face. “It’s a bathroom, Horace. I’m in it. So, yeah?”

      “Right. Right. Well, Mickie’s here.”

      “What?”

      “Yeah. She’s here.”

      “Like, at the house here? Or at the door standing right next to you here?”

      “No! No! She’s outside talking to Danielle and Terry.”

      “Okay. Just gimme a second. I’ll be right out.”

      “Okay.”

      I could tell he’s still there.

      “Horace?”

      “Yeah?”

      “I’m okay. Thanks for telling me, okay?”

      “Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I’m around if you need me. With Johnette.”

      “How’s