Unexpected (7 page)

I don't
promise him I'll be there; instead, I say I'll try. He tells me to
go back to sleep and heads out for work. I lie down on the couch
and close my eyes, but sleep eludes me. The couch may be relatively
comfortable, but for some reason it's difficult to fall asleep and
stay asleep. It must be all the changes happening in my life. I've
been pushing the negative thoughts aside to focus on the positive,
but maybe my subconscious
doesn’t want
to get on board with that plan.

I finally fall
asleep and after two hours, I reluctantly get up and get dressed. I
look over the three Help Wanted ads I circled last night as I eat a
bowl of cereal. The opportunities presented in the Classifieds are
limited, but it's a start.

I don't dawdle any
longer at the apartment and get out the door as quickly as I can. I
need to get the job search going. The fewer unemployed days I have,
the better. Not to mention if I stay busy I won't be thinking about
how messed up my life is.

Drew has left
several voicemails and sent so many text messages it seems like my
phone is going to explode. It's not a good idea for me to respond
to him right now. The anger, while slowly dissipating, is still
very much there. There's a good chance I won't react like a lady if
I speak with him anytime soon.

Victoria, on
the other hand, has only been a passive-aggressive bitch in the
handful of messages she sent to me. She mentioned at least twice
that I need to get my stuff soon before she starts tossing it out
the window. Her threat is hard to take seriously since she rarely
follows through on the things she says she's going to do. However,
considering the circumstances, I wouldn't put it past her to do
something irrational. I really should go over there and get more of
my things, but I don't want to set foot in that apartment without
having backup. Not only that, but I can only pack up so many things
and load them into my car by myself. Right now, I need to focus on
what I
can
do—and that's
looking for a job. I can patiently wait until tomorrow night for
Ryan to help me get my things.

I drive around town
to the three places I found in the paper, then check out a few
other businesses. I pick up several applications and drop off a
couple resumes. Despite all the effort, I feel as though my morning
isn't as productive as the stack of papers sitting in the passenger
seat of my car. I stop at a restaurant and get a box of potato
skins to go, then head back to Ryan's apartment.

While I eat my
lunch, I fill out all the applications. It's a time-consuming
project, and one that's not only hurting my hand, but also draining
me. Maybe it's because sleeping on the couch wasn't as comfortable
as I claimed it was. Or maybe it's because these job prospects
plain suck. Either way, I don't know how much more of this I can
take.

When I finish the
last application in my pile, I set down my pen and breathe a sigh
of relief. Okay, now what? I look at my phone for the time and
discover another text message from Drew asking to talk. Fat chance
of that happening. I close the message and set my phone down. It's
three in the afternoon now, making it too late in the day to get
all these applications turned back in. I've actually accomplished a
decent amount so far today. I can wait until tomorrow to turn in
all the applications. You know what I really need right now? A
nap.

I put all the
applications in a folder and set it next to my duffel bag by the
couch. I start to
lay
down
on the couch when I realize there's nobody sleeping in the bed. If
I'm going to nap, I
had better
do it right. I'm sure Ryan wouldn't care if I did.

I step into his
bedroom, surprised it isn't super messy. His bed is unmade, but the
rest of the room isn't a disaster. Only a few stray pieces of
clothing on the floor. I'm impressed. I sit on the bed, slip my
legs under the covers, and lay my head down on his pillow as I pull
the covers over me. His scent surrounds me as though he was right
here with me. It makes me relax and I drift off into sleep.

~*~

I awake to the
buzzing of my cell phone in my pocket. I glance around the room,
momentarily forgetting where I am and why. I pull out my phone,
expecting it to be another message from Drew. It's Ryan reminding
me of the band practice and giving me the address if I decide to
come.

I hold my phone to
my chest and close my eyes for a second. Should I go? If I don't,
what else is awaiting me tonight except probably browsing online
for local job opportunities? I'm done with that for today, and
watching TV alone doesn't sound like fun either.

You know what? Why
not?

I pop the
address Ryan text messaged me into my GPS and drive to his parents'
house. I know I've found the right place when I see his red pickup
parked in the driveway. As I'm heading up the walkway to the house,
I hear music in the garage. I turn around,
go to the side
door next to the garage door,
and
peek in the tiny window. I see three guys—one on drums, one on
bass, and Ryan on guitar. I
nstead of possibly disturbing his
parents, I go into the garage.

I slip inside and
watch from the corner as they play a somewhat familiar indie rock
song. Leaning against the wall, I stare in amazement as Ryan plays
the guitar and sings. Victoria mentioned something about his
musical ability once, but I never had the chance to hear it for
myself until now. His voice is soulful and his talent pours out
under his fingers with every chord.

The song ends in a
flourish, and I clap. All three of them turn toward me, surprised
they had an audience. Ryan grins, setting down his guitar to come
over. He gives me a quick hug and whispers in my ear, “Thank God
you're here.” He leads me over to the other two members of his
band. “Alina, this is Phil, my brother,” he says, pointing to the
drummer. “And this is Brent.”

Phil stands and
reaches over his drum set to shake my hand. “It's nice to finally
meet you, Alina.”

“Nice to officially meet both of you,
too.
”

Ryan takes my arm.
“Come on. Let's get you something to drink.” He brings me inside
into the kitchen. “What would you like? There's beer, root beer,
iced tea, and water.”

“
I'll take a
root beer.” He passes me a can and takes one for himself. “So,
you're kind of scary talented.”

He smiles, raising
an eyebrow. “Scary talented?”

“
Yeah,” I
say, stopping to take a sip. “I almost slipped off my panties to
throw them at you.”

He lets out a
snort, setting his can down as he doubles over laughing. “Alina,”
he manages to say a moment later, pulling himself up with the
counter. “You're something else.”

I shrug.
“Just being honest.” I give him a wink and he smirks. “Where
are
Phil and Brent? Why aren't they
in here getting refreshments?”

“
Eh, they're
probably just making out now that they have the garage to
themselves.” When I raise an eyebrow, he clarifies, “I'm not making
a joke—they really are dating.”

“
Oh, okay,
that makes more sense.”

“
Seriously,
though, I'm glad you're here. I wasn't kidding about needing the
distraction. We played that song literally five times in a row
because Phil wanted to make sure we got the bridge right.” He
groans. “Leave it to him to make me get sick of one of my favorite
songs.”

“
I think you
nailed it.”

“
Good.” He
points at me. “Please tell him that when he comes in
here.”

Phil and Brent
enter the kitchen and grab a couple root beers for themselves. Phil
looks at me. “So, I hear you're looking for a new job.”

Today's limited possibilities come to mind
and I almost cringe. “
Uh,
yeah.”

When I glance over
at Ryan, his eyes widen as he asks, “Oh yeah, how did everything go
today?”

“
It
went...just fine. You know, grabbed applications, talked to
managers, all that fun and productive stuff.” I smile before I take
another sip of my root beer. Ryan raises an eyebrow at me, but says
nothing. Not out loud anyway. I can feel his thoughts without the
words. He knows I'm full of shit, but he's not going to call me on
it in front of people.

Phil raises his
can. “Well, that's good to hear.”

I clear my throat
to change the subject. “So, where have you guys played before?”

Phil answers, “Oh,
we've been at a few places, but mostly The Green Room.”

“
Are you
going to be playing there again soon?”

“
They've got
us booked two weeks from this coming Saturday.”

Brent chimes
in, “You should come watch us play. I know Ryan would
love
it if you came.”

I blink a couple
times and steal a glance at Ryan. He shoots a look in Brent's
direction, then looks over at me, apologetic. “I really would like
to have you see our set. Officially, not just in a garage.”

I smile at
Ryan, then turn to Brent. “I'd
love
to be
there.”

When I wink at
Brent, Phil laughs, shoving at Brent. “Better watch out for her,
babe.”

I laugh along with
them. “How often do you have gigs?”

Phil says, “Usually
only once a month anymore.”

“
Really? I
expected more.”

Ryan shrugs.
“Hazards of adulthood. Work is usually the biggest factor—we all
work full-time, varying hours.”

Brent speaks up.
“Yeah, Phil and I work at the factory on High Street, but we have
different jobs and hours. Sometimes we can get the same nights or
days off, but not always.”

I frown. “Well,
that sucks.” My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out. It's
Drew again. I mutter under my breath, “Leave me alone.”

Ryan's face
changes. “Is it him?” When I nod, his nostrils flare. “You want me
to talk to him?” He reaches out, gesturing for me to hand my phone
over.

I shake my head.
Having Ryan talk to him won't resolve anything. Not only that, but
I can fight my own battles. Starting now. I answer the call.
“What?”

“
Alina! Thank
God you finally picked up. I was—”

“
Do you have
anything important to say?” I ask, cutting him off. “I really don't
have time for this if it isn't important.”

“
I stopped by
the diner to talk to you, but you weren't there.”

“
Yeah, I
quit,” I say in a flat tone.

“
That's what
I was told when I asked for you. What the hell
happened?”

Is he kidding?
The way
he's talking to me isn't showing concern. It shows judgment. “What
makes you think I'm going to fill you in on anything going on in my
life?”

“
Alina, I
just need to know that you're—”

“
Okay?” I
scoff. “You need to know if I'm okay? You have some nerve thinking
you can—”

“
Could you
please—”

“
Don't you
dare cut me off like that! In fact, stop calling me
entirely.”

He heaves a heavy
sigh. “I don't know why you didn't tell me about the diner.”

Does he have cotton
in his ears or am I not speaking clearly enough? “I'm sorry, but
fucking my best friend caused you to lose the privilege of knowing
what's going on in my life.” I end the call, shoving my phone back
into my pocket.

Brent stares at me
open-mouthed. “Damn, girl. I'm gonna like having you around here.”
He raises a hand for me to give him a high five. I grin as I give
him one.

Ryan puts his arm
around my shoulder. “That's my girl.”

Chapter Eight

–
Ryan
–

After another
hour of practice, I call it a night
since I have work in the
morning.
Not only that, but I would
like to spend a bit of time with Alina before going to bed. There
was something in her eyes and tone of voice earlier that concerned
me. I need to know that she's al
l right
.

The two of us drive
back to the apartment. The second we're inside, I blurt out, “Okay,
what's wrong?”

Her head snaps to
me, her face a little panicked. “What?”

“
Sorry, I
just...something'
s up.
I can
tell.”

Her facial features
relax, shoulders slumping. “I had a feeling you caught that.” She
slinks over to the couch and sits down, drawing her knees up to her
chest.

I sit next to
her. “Do you want to talk about it? If not, that's okay.” It's
actually not okay because I need to know, but I'm not going to
pressure her into talking about something she's
uncomfortable
discussing.

She's quiet for a
moment, then she lets out a long breath. “I can talk about it. I
mean, it's really nothing, but I can talk about it.”

“
It's
not
‘nothing’ if it bothers you.”

She gives me
an appreciative smile,
resting her head on my shoulder for a
second.
“It's this job thing. It
brings back unpleasant memories.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I lost my first real job and had to
start working at the diner.”

“What did you do before?”

“Receptionist for a chiropractor. I did the
administrative professional course at the county vocational school
my junior and senior year.”