“Me?”
“Yes, Dickwaffle, you’re the one who made her cry.” Jez glares at me.
“What if I do it again?”
“Here’s some advice, don’t.”
“Fine!” I surrender. “But don’t blame me if-…”
“GO!” They all yell at me.
“I’m fucking going!” I shout back at them as I stomp out of the room, hoping I won’t be able to find her.
No such luck.
She’s half way to the elevator when I enter the hallway. I take a deep breath. This is going to be more fun than a prostate exam by a cactus.
“Anca, stop.” I call out.
She doesn’t, she just runs faster. Of course. What is wrong with this maddening woman?
I take off on a run towards her. “Anca! Come on, I’m sorry! Can we talk?”
“No!” she yells without turning around, still refusing to stop.
I quicken my pace and gain on her, reaching out to touch her shoulder when I catch up to her. She shoves my hand away and spins around, her eyes wide and wild, like a cat on the caught in a trap.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hisses.
“Whoa. Sorry.” I step back, my hands up. I give her a moment to calm down. “Hey, um, I’m sorry about what I said. I was out of line and I didn’t mean it.”
“Of course, you did,” she responds immediately. “You don’t want me to go on tour with you guys. Do you?”
I feel myself about to lie, but I don’t. What’s the point? So, I tell her the truth. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t.”
She nods, slowly, turning a thought over in her head. “At least you’re honest. But why?” Her eyes lock on me in that hypnotizing way that she does, and her voice wavers as she asks, “Am I not good enough to play with your band?”
Fuck, no. How could she think that?
“God, no, Anca. No, that’s not the reason. If anything you’re too good.”
“Shut up. I was just giving you credit for at least being honest with me.” She pulls her gaze from mine, and it gives me a moment of relief.
I reach out and touch her on the wrist, before I can stop myself. “No, listen to me. I am being honest. You’re seriously amazing. I’ve never heard anyone play the harp like you. Like you were born to do it.” She looks at me with a small smile for the first time in all the times we’ve butt heads. But I know it won’t last. I pull my hands back. “Look. I just… I don’t know if I trust you. What do you want? Why would you want to play with us? You could be a star in your own right.”
She waves my words away, her cheeks flushing red. She really doesn’t believe me.
“I don’t know why you think you can’t trust me.”
“Well, let’s start with… why didn’t you tell me that we’ve met before? Last night, at the bar when I first came up to you? Why did you pretend we were strangers?”
Her eyes narrow, like she’s running through it all in her head again. And hating me all over again. “Ah. So that’s what this is really about. Look, I thought you did recognize me, I thought that’s why you were coming over to my table. And then when it was clear you didn’t… I was, I was really embarrassed. So, I guess I was just covering my embarrassment by being a bitch.”
And now I’m being the jerk. “I’m sorry, I really did not recognize you. You just… you just don’t look the same at all. You were such a cute kid.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, thanks, now I’m a horrendous hag?”
“NO! I mean… fuck. Why do you always twist my words around?”
“Why are your words always so offensive?” She challenges me.
“Because you’re always trying to get a rise out of me.”
“Oh, trust me, there’s no part of me that wants to get any part of you to rise.”
“Arghhh!” I shout, my hands coming up to hold my head.
She just shrugs and walks over to the elevator and jabs at the down button over and over.
“See? That’s just… that’s exactly why I don’t want you to come along.” I sigh.
“Which part, the part where I reject your masculinity, or because I’m an horrendous hag part?”
“Arggghh!” I shout again. “What is wrong with you? Why would you even JOKE about being a hag, when you’re so fucking stop-men-in-their-tracks stunning?!” I slam my fist against the wall. “Ow! Shit!”
She looks startled and backs further away from me.
“Sorry. You just… you make me so mad.”
“Sorry. Look. I didn’t know this before, but, I really want to come play with you guys. You’re…” she rolls her eyes and I know she’s about to say something she doesn’t want to. “You guys are amazing, and I, ugh, I hate admitting this, but I really enjoyed playing with you before. So, when you said you didn’t want me to come. I was just really disappointed. Am. Am disappointed.”
“I’m sorry. I just feel like you’re constantly trying to wind me up. You can understand why I wouldn’t want that when I’m trying to perform. This whole thing… the band, with the guys, we work because we trust each other implicitly, that we’ve got each other’s backs. If there was anything that disturbed that, it would all come crumbling down. The way you and I are bickering all the time can you see why it might be a total disaster?”
“I do, and I’m sorry that it’s been that way. I guess we just rub each other the wrong way,” she shrugs.
For a moment the words “rub” and “each other” flash in my brain and I bite the inside of my cheek to ignore it. Focus, Marius. She’s Jez’s sister. No rub.
Oblivious to my inner thoughts, she’s silent for a few seconds and sighs. “Sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I guess I’ll tell Jez that it’s a no go.”
And suddenly the thought of her not being around trumps all the annoyance of the last 24 hours. Before I can stop myself, I hear myself saying, “No. Don’t. Look. We got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we… why don’t we try to get through some rehearsals and in a few days if it doesn’t work out, we’ll decide then.”
The look on her face tells me I’ve done the right thing. “Really?”
I shrug, “Yeah, I’ll try not to be too much of an insensitive asshole.”
She lets out a short laugh, “And I’ll try not to be such a sensitive witch.”
I feel my eyebrows raise at the word. “Witch?”
“Yeah, I… er, I may have been called that before in my past.”
“Oh. You don’t say. I can’t imagine that…” Her eyes narrow trying to read my tone and I force myself to smile.
“You fu-…” she starts and then clamps her mouth shut and I can see, our pact to behave is going to take some effort on both our parts. She forces herself to smile and I can’t help but grin at how much it must be killing her.
“Come on, let’s go back, before they’re done conspiring how to kick me out of the band and get you to replace me.”
She hesitates, then rocks forward on her feet and walks past me. I follow behind her just as she flips her hair and there’s a waft of her scent.
Vanilla.
Vanilla cotton candy and liquid silk.