An hour later, they walked back to the car, a bit pink-cheeked and relaxed. Reece watched Angus lope along and tried not to examine him for signs that he felt different or better. He tried to just be.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Reece asked.
“In-N-Out Burger.”
Reece snorted. “We can’t have that for lunch and dinner.”
“Says who?”
“The vegetable gods.”
“Are you going to make me discuss how ketchup is made from tomatoes? And the burgers have lettuce on them. And I’m sure there’s something distinctly vegetable-like about french fries.”
“French fries are definitely the same as having a salad.” Reece rolled his eyes.
“Exactly. I knew you’d see it from my point of view.”
At least Angus never lost his talent for avoiding Reece’s sarcasm when it suited his purpose “Okay. We can get burgers again, but then we’re finding somewhere to get a green smoothie too, so I don’t keel over.”
“Hippie.”
Reece brushed the last of the sand off his feet, shoved them back into his shoes, and grinned.
“You’re the one with the chin pubes.” He reached out and tugged lightly. It was a new look for Angus, probably born out of apathy rather than fashion effort.
“Did you just call
me
a hippie?”
Reece decided his silence would be enough of an answer.
FROM LA
they headed south and east toward Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley. The land got drier and browner by the mile, palm trees turned to desert scrub, and the strange, ancient Joshua trees loomed in the desert like some species Reece had never seen or even thought to picture.
“Those things are creeping me out a little,” Angus said. He pointed at one of the trees. “They don’t look like they belong on this planet.”
“They’re a really old species, I guess, and only found in this small area. Beautiful in their own way,” Reece said.
He didn’t miss the questioning look Angus flipped at him. “I guess we all have our taste.”
It was dinnertime when they pulled into Indio. Reece felt the vibe immediately, saw the crowds that flooded the small town for music and celeb sightings—hipster girls in flower crowns and high-waisted shorts, expensive cars, and even more expensive people strolling around the town that had to grow by thousands for those two weekends a year. There was an energy in the ground, in the air as well, a sense of expectation. It hit Reece as he rolled down the car window. Must’ve gotten to Angus as well, because he smiled and rolled down his window too.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” Angus said. He looked wide-eyed out at the evening sky. Reece and Angus used to talk about pooling their resources and trying to find a way to get there. The talk had turned more into “maybe someday” after Brad came into the picture. Somehow, it seemed like things had come full circle.
“We’re here. Finally.”
“This is… amazing,” Angus breathed.
Reece hoped Angus could appreciate it. That he didn’t let dickhead Brad ruin something he’d wanted to do since they were kids. Reece supposed it would remain to be seen.
Indio, California
THE SUN
felt good, even through the curtains of their tiny hotel room. It was a miracle Reece had been able to find anything, weekend of Coachella and everything, but the room was surprisingly decent and even more surprisingly close to the concert venue, at least according to Reece.
Angus crept out of bed, careful not to wake Reece, and made his way out to their little balcony. He slid the door open and closed as quietly as he could and then sank down to the sun-warm concrete surface. He hadn’t been sleeping all that well, even though he was tired nearly all the time. Maybe some time out in the sun would help. Everyone always seemed to think sunshine helped everything.
He lay out flat on their balcony in the small triangle of light. It felt like he hadn’t seen the sun in years. In more than one way. Angus let the sun sink in, and he started to feel it, things, whatever the burning was, budding beneath his skin. He’d been feeling things over the past day or so—it was impossible to stay in his blurry, alcohol-soaked box when Reece was there trying so hard to pull him out. Angus was living again. Barely. Still, the sun felt good, like it combated the heat inside of him somehow. And he was starting to feel like a human again.
It was progress, he supposed.
He rolled over onto his stomach and looked through the balcony railing out at the hills surrounding the valley. They were brown, mostly, instead of the craggy, tree-covered hills he was used to around home. It was hard to get used to all the brown, to the odd, primeval-looking Joshua trees and the cracked earth. The alien landscape was healing, in a way, so different from everything he was used to. Angus barely remembered that day in San Francisco. It was only a couple days ago, but it already seemed like another lifetime. Instead of worrying about it, he focused on the hills and the earth.
Angus must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he woke to the sound of the door sliding open, and Reece’s shadow fell across his eyes. Reece was smiling down at him.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“Woke up and the sun looked nice, so I came out to sit in it.” Angus noticed the sun was a lot hotter than it had been earlier.
“You ready for some concert madness?”
“You know, I didn’t even ask who was on the lineup today,” Angus said. Really, how could he have not asked?
Reece pulled out his phone. “Tonight is Death Ca—” he started with a grin, but was interrupted by Angus’s screech.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Definitely serious.” Reece chuckled. He’d probably been expecting a reaction like that one. “And earlier there’s Passion Pit, The 1975, Lily and Madeline…. Hmmm, I don’t recognize all the names.”
“Give it to me.”
And there it was again—the numbness was getting thinner. He didn’t know if it was good or if he was in for a world of pain, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it, so he let excitement spread through his blood, sluggish at first, like ink in water, but slowly reaching his extremities. “We’ve got to get dressed, babe. I don’t want to miss the first show.”
“We have a few hours, yet,” Reece said with a laugh. “You want the first shower?”
“Yeah. I smell like desert and car.”
“More like Cheetos and sweaty feet.”
Angus tried to reach out and swat at Reece’s leg, but he was too lazy to be serious about it and ended up hitting nothing but air.
“You’re a dick.”
“Get up and get a shower,” Reece said with a laugh.
“You know… I hate to keep saying this kind of shit, but this feels good. Being here with you feels really good.”
“It does.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Angus said with a grunt and a sigh as he pulled himself up off the ground. “Think we can pretend reality doesn’t exist and stay here another week?”
Reece shrugged. “Or we can go somewhere else. I have my computer. I’m set.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Angus that they could go somewhere else. He figured they’d just turn around and go home. His last comment had been a throwaway. But the potential to not go home yet, to stay away and not deal with his life for a few more days? He liked it.
“Wait. Like where could we go?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Angus could barely even think of anything past Coachella and not having to deal with his real life, so he said the first thing that popped into his head.
“Vegas?” He hadn’t been in a long time, and the first time was less fun than a “look how much fun it could be if you were here with different people” tour. He’d actually like to see it again.
“Vegas it is.”
He thought of San Francisco and the room in Pismo. And last night. “Don’t book the room. This time let me do it.”
“Angus.”
“
Reece
.”
“Fine.”
ANGUS WAS
still somehow unable to comprehend they were really, truly spending the day at Coachella. Even after he’d showered and dressed and booked them a room at Planet Hollywood for the next night. Even after he and Reece had headed off to the coffee shop to meet Brenda, he still couldn’t believe this was about to be his day.
The town was even more full than it had been last night. A car drove past with “Coachella or bust” painted on the window in pink. The girls rolled down their windows and cheered at Reece and Angus when they passed. People were walking along the streets, making their way to the diners and coffee shops. The entire town seemed to be buzzing, and Angus had to admit it was contagious.
Brenda was cheery and quirky, just like he remembered. They’d only met a few times—then she’d moved to LA and he never really heard much about her. She was wearing typical Coachella gear—hippie prints, cool kid sunglasses, sandals, and a huge hat. Angus had tried to look like someone who was meant to be there, someone who’d fit in with the hipsters and the random celebs, but he felt like a boring duckling in a sea of florals, tribal prints, and beaded headbands.
“It’s great to see both of you.”
“Thank you so much for this, Bren. I can’t believe you didn’t have any other takers.”
She scoffed at Reece. Angus got it in an instant. He wasn’t oblivious like Reece clearly was. Brenda would’ve had no problems getting another taker. But she’d wanted that taker to be Reece. Angus wondered if he’d need to make himself scarce once they got to the grounds. Weirdly, the idea of wandering around, anonymous, kind of appealed to him. If Brenda wanted a date with Reece, he was more than happy to do his own thing.
They got back in their car and followed Brenda to the press parking area. It was closer and way less crowded than the general parking lots.
“Are you sure it’s cool that we park here?” Reece asked.
Brenda nodded. “Yeah, nobody gets in here without permission, so once the car is in here, you’re good to go.”
“That’s great. Way better than out there.” Reece looked at the sea of cars in one of the larger lots. “What’s the plan for today?” he asked.
“I was going to do an interview with The Head and the Heart,” she told Reece. “Do you want to come with me and meet the band? We could find Angus later.”
Reece started to protest, but Angus stepped on his foot. “I’ll be fine. Text me later, okay?”
He was itching to float, just check out the crowds and the bands and not really exist inside of himself. He couldn’t do that with Reece there clucking around him like a momma duck trying to make sure he was having fun. Plus, nobody had ever accused Angus of cock blocking. It wasn’t going to be his first.
“You sure?” Reece asked.
“
Go.
”
ANGUS WANDERED
around the grounds, just like he’d planned to do. He watched Twenty One Pilots from the back of the crowd and then started to look for something to drink when their show was over. It was a weird feeling to be lost in the crowd of friendly, waving, slightly stoned people. Kind of like a blast from the past. Angus found a beer garden and got in line to grab a beer. He was pleasantly surprised when he was carded at the gate, but decided to spare the attendant the conversation he probably had hundreds of times a day about being happy he looked under twenty-one.
The beer garden was packed for early in the day, with only one chair empty at a table filled with guys who seemed nice enough, so Angus walked over and asked if he could sit in the empty chair. He didn’t know if it was rude or not, but he figured it didn’t matter as long as he got a place to sit after standing in the sun for the past hour.
“Sure, man,” one of them said. He had shoulder-length hair and a pair of neon pink aviators. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” He sat and sipped his beer for a few minutes while the group’s chatter washed over him. It took him a moment to realize they’d addressed a question to him.
“What?” he asked.
Long hair chuckled. “We asked if you were here on your own.”
“Oh.” Angus smiled. “With a friend, but he’s got a girl with him, and I didn’t want to be a third wheel, you know?”
“Well, you’re welcome to hang with us as long as you want. We’re probably going to blaze after this, do the rounds, and maybe hit Death Cab for Cutie tonight at the main stage.”
Angus couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, that would be great.”
Introductions were made, and second beers were downed, and then Angus followed the guys out to their big Volkswagen van “to blaze,” because they were there and he was there and why not? A bunch of hippie guys with a Volkswagen was kind of ridiculous, but he figured it was all part of the cliché Coachella experience.
Cheddar of the long hair and pink sunglasses and his buddies, Rex, Dibbs, and Munchy—real names apparently weren’t all that important—ended up being pretty cool. They ushered Angus into the van, and they passed around a joint until it was gone, and Angus felt like he could float up off the sticky floor of the van and just keep going. He realized Cheddar was pointing at him a little and giggling.
“You’re so fucking stoned, dude.”
Angus thought he’d nodded, but then he realized they were waiting for a response. “Yeah. I suppose I am,” he said.
“You wanna go back and watch The 1975?” one of them asked. He had red hair. Angus wasn’t sure if he knew that one’s name, even though they’d said it.
Shit. What’s his name?
“Yeah. Let’s do that,” Cheddar said. “You coming with us, man?”
Angus nodded and managed to make it out of the van without face-planting on the scrubby grass of the field where they were parked.
Cheddar slung an arm across Angus’s shoulders and chuckled while he led him out of the parking lot. Angus thought he felt his phone buzz in his shorts, but he didn’t check it.
“You from around here, Angus?” Cheddar asked. “We go to events a lot. You seem like you’d be chill to hang with.”
“Nah. I live in Portland. Just here for the day,” Angus said.
“You’re not going to be here tomorrow? There’s a ton of dope bands.”