“I’ve got to be back by next Monday, Neil. I can’t miss even one day in summer school or the class will drop me.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “We’ll be back in time. I probably can’t push calling in sick to work for more than a week without getting fired, Chrissie.”

Two hours later, we’re on a flight from Oakland to Seattle.

Once we land, we go to the baggage claim area to grab our suitcases and Neil’s guitar, and then make a rushed detour to the rental car counter. We make a fast stop at our hotel to check in, dump our bags, and thirty minutes later we’re making our way across the city again.

Neil has been in a strange mood since we boarded the plan. Anxious and quiet in a way I’ve not seen before. For a guy who wanted me along with him this week, he couldn’t be any more remote if he tried. It feels like being in Seattle affects him in some deep, emotional way.

History with the band? Shit? Or maybe this is where his ex-girlfriend is from? I wonder what parts of Neil’s life in Seattle he hasn’t yet shared with me. He’s a careful guy about what he  discloses about himself, and never more vague than about his ex. Jeez, we’ve been together  six months, if you count it from the day he found me crying outside the music department, and I still don’t know her name. Shouldn’t I know her name by now?

I ignore Neil’s silence and just stare out the car window. I’ve never been to Seattle before. It would be nice to get to see a little of it. Our hotel is near Pike Street Market. Other than the Space Needle, I don’t know what else is supposed to be interesting here.

As I watch Neil maneuver our rental car through streets that don’t look at all like anything in Southern California, it’s obvious he knows his way around here. He can probably tell me what else is worth seeing in this city.

I stare up through the car window at the city lights. It’s a pretty city and it edges the Pacific. In a lot of ways Neil is like me. I can’t imagine either of us living away from the ocean. When he’s not at his job, working on his music, or in bed with me, he’s at the beach surfing.

Neil parks in front of a dilapidated building that sells art supplies. Josh Moss rented the basement as rehearsal space. The street looks a lot less safe than the one where our hotel is located.

Josh is leaning against a brick wall smoking a cigarette. I’ve only seen him the one time, that night at Peppers, but I didn’t remember he was such a good looking guy. Though I really don’t like his long, wiry build. Definitely more Rene’s type than mine.

Neil says, “I don’t know how long this will be tonight, Chrissie. Whenever you want to cut out, take the car. I’ll have one of the guys drive me back to the hotel.”

“OK.”

I watch him open his door and climb from driver’s seat. I wonder if, now that he has me here, he’s changed his mind about me sticking around.

Neil walks around the car and opens my door. Strange, but the two guys haven’t even said hello to each other yet. I wait at the curb, feeling awkward, as Neil retrieves his guitar and Josh just stands there smoking and staring at me.

Finally, Josh pushes up from the wall and tosses his cigarette into the road. “The convict is back,” he says.

“Fuck you, Josh,” Neil says, but he’s smiling.

Then they’re hugging each other in that guy way, hard pats and a firm clutch. They shake each other and then step back.

“You look good, man. You good?” Josh asks, taking in Neil with a thorough glance. The way he says that makes it sound more significant than a casual inquiry.

Neil nods. “It’s all good, Josh. Nothing to worry about. Like I said on the phone, I’m here to work. Then I’m going back to Berkeley with Chrissie.”

Josh shakes his head. “You had me fucking worried there for a while.”

Neil tilts his head toward the building. “Did the rest of guys send you up here to make sure I wasn’t a fucking nut-case before you let me through the doors?”

I listen to the conversation, trying not to let expression surface on my face. Nut case? What the heck does that mean? Neil is the farthest thing from crazy I know.

Josh laughs, lighting another cigarette. “Yep. Told them you looked good when I saw you in Berkeley. They’re not sure about you yet. You fucked up Andy pretty bad. Everyone is still blown away about that, trying to figure out what set you off enough to fuck up him enough to put him in the hospital. Fuck, Neil, we’ve all been friends since grade school. Why the hell did you fuck him up instead of talking to me?”

Andy? My eyes search Neil face. He’s tense and edgy with anger. Andy…and then I remember the night at Peppers, the guy Neil was pissed at, the guy who stared at me so strangely while I danced with Neil. Is that the same Andy? The guy Neil caught in bed with his girlfriend? Getting fucked over by a friend; is that why Neil flipped out and did such a non-Neil thing?

Josh’s eyes sharpen on Neil’s face. “Andy is back in Seattle. Did you know that?”

Neil shakes his head, but his tension intensifies. “I don’t talk to that fucker and I never will.”

“There are not going to be any problems are there? There’s no way to avoid him here.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, full of meaning I can’t begin to decipher.

“Like I said, I’m here for a week to see what we can put together, but I’m not moving back. I’ll come here to work. I’ll go on the road. Nothing more. Then I’m back in Berkeley with Chrissie.”

I’m startled out of my thoughts by the feel of Josh Moss’s eyes on me. He says, “I know you. We hung out together once. You have a friend. Rene? Right?”

I flush, but before I can say anything Neil laughs and gives Josh a little shove in the chest. “You’re such a prick. I told you not to mention that to Chrissie. Not cool, man. Don’t fuck with my girlfriend.”

For the first time Josh smiles at me. “I’m just messing with you, Chrissie. Rene was hot. I was hoping you could give me her number.” His gaze shifts to Neil. “Girlfriend, huh? You didn’t tell me this when I was in Berkeley.”

“I didn’t think it mattered in making a decision to let me rejoin the band. Is there a problem?”

Josh moves to open the store door. He shakes his head. “Neil Stanton and Chrissie Parker.”

The tic twitches in Neil’s cheek. “Don’t say it like it’s fucked up.”

Neil’s sudden temper and the tone of his voice send an instant chill through me.

Josh freezes and turns to look at Neil. “Don’t be so fucking intense. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You better not have,” Neil counters harshly. “Chrissie goes pretty much everywhere I go. If it’s going to be a problem, you tell me now.”

Something in their exchange makes me flush. I stare at Neil, but he doesn’t look at me.

Josh shrugs loosely. “No problem, Neil. You just surprised me.”

They start walking. I tug on Neil’s shirt. He stops.

I stare up at him. “What was that all about?”

Neil jerks a hand through his hair. He’s very agitated right now about something.

“Nothing. Josh is an asshole sometimes. Blow off anything he says.”

“OK.” But I don’t really get what just happened here. It feels strange, disturbingly so, even though I can’t make sense of it. I stare up at Neil. “Andy. That’s your friend from Santa Barbara, right?”

Neil nods.

My eyes widen. “Why did you leave that part out when you told me about the guy you beat up in San Francisco?”

Neil shrugs. “It wasn’t important.”

“Getting screwed over by a friend is kind of a significant part.”

“Jeez, Chrissie. Stop with the fucking third degree.”

My body goes cold. I take a slight step back from him. He feels peculiar.

Neil’s shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’m really tense right now. Can we just wait to do this until I’m done here?”

Neil walks off toward the basement. At the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs is a storage room filled with canvas, paints, and raw materials. The basement is dark and dirty, the scent of the air has an unpleasant odor of cleaning supplies and dust, but the area is large and the equipment is already set up.