Connected

I’m finally able to sip the drink that Bell handed me earlier when she walks over and sits next to me. Handing me a blue iced drink, she says, “Bottoms up.” Then clinks her glass to mine. It’s an interesting mix of blueberry and cranberry; I kind of like it. “And this would be?” I ask after drinking a healthy sized gulp.

“No idea. I just told Tate I love cranberries and blueberries, and this is what he made for us.”

“Tate?”

“The bartender, and my very good friend,” she winks, glancing over to the hulk-sized man behind the bar who is staring back at us.

Not sure how to respond to her, I point to my drink and give Tate a thumbs up. He smiles at me then turns to Bell mouthing, “You like?”

“Excuse me,” she says as she gets up from the table. “I just want to thank him properly. I’ll be back in a few for some girl talk.”

I glance up at the stage and see River watching over me. Since I’m in a thumbs up giving mood, I shoot him one as well as he adjusts the microphone stand and puts his guitar over his shoulder.

Shaking his head at me, he just grins before he turns for what looks like a pow-wow with the band and Xander.

Glancing toward the bar, I see Bell leaning over it, flirting with Tate. I wonder if he’s her boyfriend or just her bar boyfriend, but I can’t tell. Then I see her pluck her drink down on the bar and stamp her foot before traipsing into the room marked “Poolroom,” Tate following quickly behind. After witnessing their little exchange, I’m guessing boyfriend.

Looking back to the stage, River starts to sing a song I know well. It is the song he told me he wrote about me. His eyes find mine as he sings the lyrics to Once in a Lifetime, and when he hits the chorus he closes them.

Having finished my blueberry concoction, I go back to the Cranberry Crown. I am listening intently to River’s singing. I love the sound of his rough but smooth voice. Closing my own eyes, I take in his whole sound. The clanking of a bottle being set on the table makes me open them, and I feel slightly dizzy for a second. I know I need to slow down, I am a lightweight to begin with, and having eaten an early dinner, I don’t have much food in my stomach now to absorb the potency of Tate’s drinks.

The song ends, and River lifts his shirt to wipe some sweat off his face. Lifting his shirt exposes a healthy amount of his firm stomach, and I’m not the only one who notices them. Girls throughout the bar are yelling and screaming, and I’m torn between doing the same or just running up there and pulling him down off the stage. I choose the former. He looks over at me as he lets his shirt fall and winks. I stop yelling when Xander takes a seat next to me. He sets a bottle of Black Label Patron on the table and adds two shot glasses with chasers.

Observing him more closely I notice his eyes are a lighter shade of green than River’s, but he has the same strong jawline and full lips. His hair is shorter and much neater, compliments of hair product I’m sure. He’s just a little bit shorter and a little broader than River.

He smiles at me, but his smile doesn’t touch his cold green eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I’m not sure why he doesn’t seem to like me but I smile cordially anyway. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

Pouring two shots, he slides one over, but not all the way. He looks at the stage, at his brother, and at the other band members. I get the feeling he’s avoiding looking at me, but manages to say, “You’re the reason River didn’t answer his phone all weekend.”

The music stops and the three bandmates step to the side to discuss something. River is pointing to the chords of his acoustic guitar, and Nix is pointing to the strings on his electric guitar. Garrett is both nodding and shaking his head.

“They’ll be awhile,” Xander says, leaning back in his chair.

He pushes the shot directly in front of me, and I look over at him about to say no thank you when a wicked grin appears on his face. “Drink with me, Muse?”

I look up at River, but he’s still talking to Nix. Without saying another word, Xander licks his index finger and rubs it in the salt. He motions for me to do the same. So, deciding a drink can only help calm the uneasiness I feel in his presence, I dip my finger in the Patron, wet my wrist, and coat it in salt. Licking the salt, I quickly down the tequila and grab a lime wedge. He does the same.

When we’re done he pours 2 more shots, this time putting the glass in front of me at its first touch to the table. “Another?”

“What are we drinking too?”

“Life!”

“Okay, life, I’ll drink to that.” Then, as I setup another shot and he does the same I ask, “What’s with the name Muse?”

He doesn’t answer as he tips his head back and drinks his Black Label without even a here’s to.

I do the same, but when I set my glass down I ask another question. “Have I done something to offend you in life?” I ask, stressing the word life.

Guitar chords are being played, but the band has their backs to us, seemingly still in a dispute. After pouring yet a third round, he leans even further back on his barstool. “Where should I start,” he says, twirling his glass on the table, some of the liquid spilling out.

“Let’s see . . . First, I’m a little pissed at my brother right now. He had a radio interview on Sunday morning here in LA that he blew off.”

Xander looks directly at me for the first time since sitting down. He actually seems more peeved at me than at his brother as he continues, “I called him all f**king weekend and he never answered his goddamn phone until today.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I say, having no idea why I’m apologizing. I look up at River who has started to play again, but still turned to Nix. He’s singing a song I’ve never heard.

“You know what?” he asks, but I don’t answer because it seems like a loaded question. He continues anyway. “That’s not even what really pisses me off.” He drinks another shot, this time straight and refills the glass again.

Drinking my shot straight now as well, I force back the bile coming up my throat and know I have to stop. “So, what is it that pisses you off Xander,” I say, equally as coolly now. I have had enough of his shit.

“You,” he says, not taking his eyes from mine.

“Me! What have I done to you?”

“You don’t know do you? He didn’t tell you? No, of course he didn’t,” he wryly says, pushing a fourth shot my way.

River has turned around and is staring at me with concern. I give him a little smile and return my eyes back to Xander. He’s playing his guitar now, but I have no idea what he’s singing because I am not listening to the words. The alcohol is flowing through my veins and my judgment is more than a little off.

I give Xander a measured glance and push the glass back toward him as if to say enough and I don’t just mean the alcohol. His games need to stop as well. “Know what?”

I can see by his glazed over eyes he’s more than drunk. Leaning forward he turns to face me, but I lean away. “You should be flattered that I call you Muse. In fact I’ve referred to you that way for a long time.”

Sighing heavily, he looks up at River for a moment then continues, “That song he wrote about you is why the band is successful today, so you were his muse.”

“He did tell me that,” I say, feeling the need to defend River and myself. I honestly have no idea where his anger is coming from.

Shooting me an irritated look, he says, “No. Not about the song.”

He says it like I’m an idiot.

“Then what?” I ask, even though I need to excuse myself to use the bathroom. I stand up, and the room starts to spin.

He snorts as he answers, “River had brought Bell to the bar the first night you met him. Rather than bring her home himself, he asked me to do it so he could stay and talk to you. She was in a hurry to meet some guy at her apartment, and I wasn’t ready to leave so my sister left without me.” His sad tone draws me back into the conversation.

Glancing at me, as if he is annoyed that I stood up, I quickly sit back down and he continues. “I was easily distracted back then and had stopped to talk to somebody, and before I knew it she had left with a friend. When River saw me still at the bar with no sign of Bell he tried to call her. She didn’t answer and he was concerned so he went to her apartment. She wasn’t home so he called me and asked where to look for her. I told him to try my frat house, and I think he did. Before I heard back from him, I got a call from my mother.”

As this scene plays out, I know what is coming. It’s not going to be good. Our eyes lock and neither of us blinks until he finally breaks. “Turns out the friend she caught a ride with was drunk and ran a red light. Their small car was hit by an SUV. Bell’s friend died instantly and Bell spent six months in the hospital recovering. The trauma of the accident affected her so much she didn’t care about school anymore. She just lost her drive and never went back.”

My mouth drops open and I shake my head, telling myself that this is fiction, it’s made up; it’s not real. My unfocused eyes narrow in on Xander’s sullen expression, and all I see is the truth. Bile rises up my throat and I know I am going to lose it. He blames me! Does River blame me? Does their family blame me? “I’m sorry,” I say again for the second time tonight. I’m paralyzed by his words, glued to my seat.

He ignores my apology and continues, “As far back as I can remember, Bell always wanted to be a doctor. Especially when our father died. She wanted nothing more than to save people. But, because of the accident, she didn’t take that path in life. So instead of being a doctor, she works for me as my assistant. She gets drunk most nights and never talks about the life she should have had.” Then throwing back one more shot, he clears his throat. “So Dahlia, do you see my problem with you now?” Then he points to River and says in a louder tone, “You were the only chick he ever wanted to look for or even bothered to look for, ever, and you didn’t even stick around that night. Why? Tell me why.”

Turning to the stage, I catch sight of River’s furrowed brow. His eyes are narrowed on his brother. Seeing his expression makes my body tremble, and tears fills my eyes as I look away. I don’t even know Bell, but my heart aches for her and for me. How can I start a relationship with someone under circumstances like this? I stand up again, slightly wobbly, and stumble as I grip the table for balance. I need to remove myself from this situation, but Xander isn’t finished. Almost laughingly, he adds, “And now, I see my brother tonight, happier than I have seen him in a long time. So again, I want to know why you left that night. There is obviously something between the two of you. I could hear it in his voice when he talked to me today.” His questions end and then he throws the dagger. “If only you would have stayed . . . “

I grab the tequila shot that he poured for himself from the middle of the table and down it. Hoping the quick gulp of this mind numbing liquid will give me the ability to free myself from this hell. Then, finally able to stand without fear of stumbling, I give River one last glance before leaving this uncomfortable situation. I am feeling sick and need to get out of here. He stops singing and quickly removes his guitar strap from his shoulder. I know Xander must be pretty near rip-roaring drunk, but I’m surprised when he suddenly grips my bare arm, preventing me from walking away. With his eyes burning into me, he says, "Have you had enough? Because there’s more to tell."

“Excuse me. I need to use the restroom,” I manage, not able to listen to another word. I take off for the bathroom without even glancing at River again. Barely making it to the bathroom in time, I kneel on the floor, lift the seat, and try not to lean my head against it. The room is spinning as I heave into the toilet. When I think my stomach is finally empty, I sit back on my heels for a minute to steady myself. Once the spinning has stopped I stand up and make my way to the sink for the cool water I so desperately need.