Quite a bit happened in May and the first week of June.

First of all, Kara came home, on Thursday the fifth. We’d already seen each other on Saturday the seventh. It was the typical joyous reunion, tinged with a bit of desperation and a not inconsiderable amount of horniness.

I knew we were going to have to talk eventually--but right now we just wanted to enjoy the reunion.

Before she got back, all through May, a lot of my energy was concentrated on the band.

It wasn’t that easy of a thing, starting a band in the middle of 1980. We had to wrack our brains coming up with a setlist. Let’s face it, if you’re a rock and roller, the late seventies sucked. We would’ve had more choices if we decided to be a disco band--but we didn’t want to do that. And we could’ve come up with a hell of a setlist if we stuck to the sixties, but we didn’t want to be a complete oldies band, either.

The good thing was that a lot of the new wave acts that hit during the early eighties had actually started recording by 1980. You had to kind of search their stuff out, especially the British acts, but that’s where the second-time-around stuff came in handy. I knew when a lot of this stuff had come out from the first life. Now, a lot of it I hadn’t heard until years later, but that didn’t matter now. I knew what to look for when I went to the record store.

Of course, I had to be careful. I came very close to suggesting we learn U2’s New Years Day until I remembered it wasn’t released until 1983!

But there was enough. Elvis Costello’s Allison and Just What I Needed by the Cars went into our repertoire right away.

And there was some good stuff around. There was, of course, lots of Bruce Springsteen to choose from. As I said, we did Prove It All Night that first day, and we quickly added a very sloppy version of Born To Run to the setlist (that song is death to play!) I knew The River would be released in October, and I’d quickly suggest Two Hearts as soon as it was out. There was a bit of that in 1980--I was waiting for the Pretenders first album to show up so I could suggest Brass In Pocket, which would be a great showcase for Michelle.

Fleetwood Mac always had good stuff for a band with a female singer, and we quickly worked up Dreams and Sara. We also did Go Your Own Way, a song I liked singing. There was good Tom Petty stuff to choose from. We did up Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls. Take It Easy by the Eagles. Anything remotely good that was at all a hit in the last few years, we tried. And we did go back into the sixties for quite a bit. There was never a shortage of Beatles songs to play!

One of the problems was slow songs. We needed slow songs if we were to play school dances, which we wanted to. And, quite honestly, the pickings were slim as far as I was concerned. In a few years, we’d have stuff like Journey and Foreigner to choose from--guilty pleasures to be sure, but good slow-dancing material. We managed to get a decent list together. I also made sure we stuck in stuff like My Girl and When A Man Loves A Woman as some of the slow songs.

We hit on a great showcase for Michelle early. At like our third practice, we tried Because The Night, the Patti Smith song she co-wrote with Springsteen. Michelle just nailed it.

Getting through the songs was all well and good. But any musician will tell you, the most important part of a band is the people, and how they get along. We were lucky, that there was a solid core of four of us who’d known each other for a while--me, Stan, Michelle, and Kenny. Kenny not as long as us other three, but I’d known him for over a year and we all liked him. I considered Stan and Michelle two of my closest friends and I know they felt the same about me.

However, that’s just a starting point--because band dynamics are different. I’d played in a couple bands in the first life--later in life, college age, and nothing major--but enough to know something: I’m a pain in the ass. As a friend I think I’m a good one, and I’m a good person--but as ‘fellow bandmate’ I’ll drive you right up the wall.

The problem is my ear. It’s unbelievable. I don’t have the physical attributes to be a great instrumentalist--my fingers are way too short--but I hear all the parts in my head. And if someone else in the band fucks up, I’m the first person to hear it. I can hear a bum note almost before you play it.

As an added bonus, I can play bass, and not too badly either. I drive bass players absolutely crazy. If you’re not dead-on, I will hear it and I will bug you to death about it.

I am hard on fellow bandmates, and I know it. I was trying to be good--I promised myself I wouldn’t be so much of a martinet this time around. And I’m harder on myself than I am on anyone else, though I’ll admit people might not notice that!

However, it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t going to have a single issue with this particular bass player. Michelle was as quick with her ear as I was. And she was even harder on herself than I was.

I also discovered I had to make myself gentler by necessity, because of Stan. I quickly glommed onto his working methods--the first couple of runthroughs of an unfamiliar song, he played like shit. After a couple of trips through it, he was perfect. He had to work his way into it. Michelle and I, because of our ears, wanted to play it perfectly from the get-go. Stan didn’t care about that, he got to that point. As soon as we all got used to that, we were fine.

Sometimes, it just came--and with a vengeance. There was one day that Michelle, in between songs and just fooling around, started playing the bass line to It’s The Same Old Song. I looked at her and said, "Hey, take that from the top. Do we know that one?" We did. First try, it worked. I loved it when stuff like that happened. It happened again with Brown Sugar. I was just fooling around and I hit the guitar intro, and before I knew it, everyone else was playing. That kind of thing was fun.

We were getting to know the other members of our band. Karen was quiet and sweet, and very good-natured. I got the impression that because of her shyness, she was a bit of an outsider. Michelle and I talked about this once, and she saw the same things I did--that Karen was really enjoying getting a bit out of her shell and being part of a group. She was a fine player, very sweet, a nice steadying influence. She also, we noticed, quickly starting throwing little looks across her keyboards over at Dave!

Dave was, well, a little different. He wasn’t what he seemed at first glance. He was fairly thin and not very tall. His frizzy hair extended down past his shoulders, and he tended to walk around school in a leather jacket and boots, chains hanging off his jeans, that sort of thing. He looked like...well, we called them burnouts. You might have called them greasers or something like that. But he wasn’t. He was a very nice guy, and very smart. He just liked to project the image of a burnout. Not that he never lit up a doobie, he did once in a while. (We all did, including me, every once in a while--except for Michelle). But the true burnouts at Cabot High were stoned almost all the time, and weren’t getting B’s and A’s in school, as Dave was.

And then there was Debbie.

She was agreeable, first of all. Heck, she was a saxophonist and third guitarist, so there were some songs that there wasn’t much for her to do. She didn’t mind. She strummed a guitar or played percussion, and chipped in on the vocal harmonies. She had a good voice and I asked her if she wanted a solo or two. She reacted with complete horror! Evidently, that scared the hell out of her--but she pitched right in on the harmonies.

As a person? Well, she was right. We were close friends right from the get-go. It was rather amazing to watch her blossom. The whispering and rumors about her had really affected her. She seemed defensive, with a bit of a chip on her shoulder, waiting for someone to make a comment. Nobody did. The rest of the band just treated her like a band member--which was what she wanted.

Because of that, she quickly started to loosen up. She turned out to be sassy and funny, a real wisecracker. She was smart, and fun to be around, and she could really play.

However, it was on this day, Sunday the Eighth, that all the interpersonal stuff in the band started to come together.

First of all, we found out that Dave and Karen had had their first date the night before.

Second of all, Stan finally dumped Christy. I think he’d stayed with her for so long purely out of inertia, but he finally got sick of her. And Michelle overheard him telling me.

Then, after another fine productive practice, Michelle said, "I have to go shopping." We were at Stan’s house, and he lived right across the street from the Cabot Mall. "I need clothes. Hey, Debbie, wanna come with?"

I wish I had had a camera to take a picture of the look on Debbie’s face. She was flabbergasted--and delighted. "OK, I’d like that," she said, trying to sound nonchalant--and failing completely. Oh, make no mistake about it, Michelle knew exactly what she was doing. It was just one of the reasons she was one of my favorite people.

After everyone left practice and I got home, my phone started ringing off the hook. Stan called and asked if I thought he should ask Michelle out. "Only if you have an ounce of brains," I told him. Then Kara called and we had phone sex. Then, later, Debbie called, telling me what a great time she had shopping with Michelle. Then Michelle called.

It was all stunning when you remember that, the first time around, at this age, I didn’t have anything remotely resembling a social life! Four phone calls in one day? For me? Unheard of.

That’s why I completely understood Debbie in a way that I could never completely tell her. Oh, she knew some of it--she knew what an outcast I’d been up until eighth grade. What I couldn’t tell her is that I’d lived a life where it went a lot longer than that. That disbelieving gratitude at a gesture of friendship from Michelle--well, I completely understood that. And when Debbie called me up, gushing, I couldn’t help but get a raging case of the warm-and-fuzzies.

So, things were good. Mostly.

The mostly part had to do with Kara.

We were together on this day, a Saturday. We were up at our old haunt, Braddox Hill. We’d eaten lunch, and were just cuddling--nothing more had started yet. I wanted to talk before any of that happened, because I didn’t know how she was going to react to what I had to say.

I just said it. "I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this."

"The separations, you mean. The coming and going," she replied, understanding completely.

"Right."

"I’ll admit it, Eddie, I’ve thought the same thing."

"Look. I think the only reason for us to put ourselves through all of that is if we’re almost sure we have a future. And I don’t know if we do. First of all, we’re too young to even think about that. And, second of all, my trip up to Andrews brought home a few truths. I think we want different things out of life."

"Yeah. I’ve been thinking the same thing. Damn. I’ve been killing myself for a month trying to figure out how to bring this up."

"See, I saved you the trouble," I said with a little grin. "So, what do we do about it?"

"Well, if it’s OK with you, I say we do what we originally did. When I first went away. Eddie, I’m home for the summer now, and I’ll admit it--I want the summer."

"OK, I agree with that."

"But, in September--we split up. See other people. It’s what we originally said--if it’s meant to be in the long run, we’ll have time."

"OK. God, I’d been dreading this."

"Yeah, me too. Hey, I think you’re right about us wanting different things in the long run--but, let’s face it, we’ve often been on the same wavelength. It doesn’t shock me that we came to the same conclusions."

"True enough."

She looked down. "I just hope you don’t regret the past year. You know, trying the long distance thing. Because as tough as it’s been, I’m glad we did it."

"Are you kidding?" I said. "Look, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. You know, after Beth. Believe me, I don’t regret it. You gave me a reason to get through it."

"Good. I’m glad of that." She took a breath and then looked up at me with a little come-hither grin. "Well, since we’ve given each other the summer, I think it’s time to stop talking."

"We agree again," I said with a laugh, and reached for her.

On the 4th, the gang up the street had a Fourth Of July bash. Kara went with me. We had a good time.

On this day, the 6th, I was up the street again, this time by myself, chatting with DeeDee Neeland.

Dee was only 13--she’d be 14 in September--but she’d actually gotten pretty mature in the past few months, especially for conversation. We were sitting out at her picnic table, just the two of us, chatting.

"I really liked Kara," she told me. "She’s very nice. And she’s good for you."

"Yep," I smiled.

"You must be very happy."

"For now."

"That doesn’t sound good," she said.

"We’re breaking up at the end of the summer," I told her. "The long-distance thing was just getting too hard."

"Oh, darn, that’s too bad," she said. "You guys seemed good together."

"We are, to a point," I told her. "But we’re young. If it’s meant to be we have time. And neither of us are happy with the long-distance thing."

"But now you’ll be back on the girlfriend hunt," she teased.

"Ah, I’m in a band now. Once we start playing, I’ll have to fight them off."

"You? Yeah, right," she laughed. "A band, huh? That’s cool."

"Yep. We just started rehearsing, but it looks like we’re gonna be pretty good."

"Hmm. We’ll have to think about that for next year’s Fourth party!"

I got a phone call I didn’t expect on this day.

Mom answered the phone, and called to me. I went and picked it up. "Hello."

"Hi, Eddie. It’s Olivia."

This was a surprise. "Hi, Livvie, how are you?"

"Not so good, Eddie. I need somebody to talk to."

"You want me to come over?’

"Would you?"

Of course I would. Out of loyalty to Beth, if nothing else--but I’d always liked Olivia. Though I’ll admit a bit of trepidation about getting involved in Olivia’s life, which was a mess, but I wasn’t the type to let my friends down. The living ones or the dead ones. And Olivia didn’t sound at all good on the phone.

It took me a few minutes to ride my bike over to her house. She was sitting on her front steps waiting for me.

We sat there for a while, and talked. Well, mostly, she talked, and I listened. She’d just been dumped by another boyfriend--another real loser. I told her that, and told her I thought she was better off without those losers she’d been dating.

"Easy for you to say. You have Kara," she said.

"Well, Kara and I aren’t going to be Kara and I much longer," I told her. I explained what we’d decided.

"Oh. You’re OK with this?" she asked.

"Yeah. It really is for the best."

"OK. But you’ll find someone else, I know you will. Who do I have besides all the losers?" She started crying at that. But I knew what the real problem was.

"Livvie? I miss her too, you know. I knew her my whole life."

She looked at me, startled, then sighed. "I know you miss her. But you have other people. You have friends, family. Who’ve I got?"

"Well, me," I said with a little grin. "I hope you know now that all you ever had to do was call."

"Yeah, I do. And thanks," she said, giving me a little smile for the first time that morning.

That’s when I got an idea. Friends listen, sure, but they also do things together. It was shortly after noon. "Have you eaten lunch?" I asked her.

"No, not yet."

"Do you have a bike?"

"Yeah."

"Go get it."

"OK," she said, throwing me a quizzical look.

"We’re gonna get lunch. I know a place."

"OK." She went and got her bike. We drove about a mile from her house to a place I knew. We tied our bikes up and I led her in. She was completely stunned.

You see, I hadn’t taken her to a restaurant. I’d taken her to a bar. And not a ‘tavern’ or ‘pub’, either--this was a barroom. It was called Max’s, and it was dark and dingy inside. Even the floor was black. You walked in, and there was a long bar along the right side. The left side was filled with wooden booths, all high-backed and dark. In the middle was a pool table. A few seats at the bar and a couple of the booths were full of middle-aged men drinking beers.

Poor Olivia must’ve been scandalized. Especially when all those middle-aged men greeted me by name! "Hey, Eddie, how you doin’?"

I said hello to all of them, then led a completely amazed Olivia to a couple stools at the end of the bar. There I was greeted by Tony Macuccio, the bartender.

"Hi, Eddie," he said, "How’s it goin’?"

"Great. We need lunch. You like cheeseburgers?" I asked Olivia.

"Uh, yeah," she said hesitantly.

"Great. Two cheeseburgers with fries. I’ll have Orange Crush to drink. You?" I asked Olivia. "No booze, Tony knows we’re underage."

"A coke, thanks," she said with a little giggle.

"Tony, this is my friend Olivia," I said. "She needed a bit of cheering up," I said.

"So you brought her here?" Tony laughed.

"Well, I figured Max’s cheeseburgers would cheer anyone up."

"Is that Eddie Bovilas I hear out there?" I heard bellowed from the grill area in the back. Out came the owner, Max Rubin. He was in his sixties, a Russian Jewish emigre who’d been a friend of the family just about forever. Tony had, too. I grew up in this barroom. That’s why I knew the burgers were good!

"Hi, Max. This is my friend Olivia. Make the burgers extra-good for her, would you?"

"My burgers are always good," Max said through his Russian accent.

"That they are."

Tony brought our drinks over, then went to get stuff for the guys down the bar. Max went back to the back room to make the food. Olivia took a sip of her coke, then gave me a wry grin.

"I’ll admit, this is about the last place I figured I’d end up eating lunch."

"I love it here. I practically grew up here. Max and Tony are old family friends. Tony’s oldest daughter used to babysit us, in fact she’s my brother’s godmother. My Dad used to tend bar here a couple nights a week when I was a baby. I’ve been brought here since I was an infant."

"I’m not sure how I feel about barrooms." Her voice dropped. "My mother spends far too much time in them."

"Ah," I said, mentally kicking myself for having forgotten that. "You won’t have any problems here, though. We’re not drinking--and those guys down there that are, none of them are drunk. Tony doesn’t let things get out of hand."

"That’s a good thing, considering I just realized I’m the only female in the place!"

"And you’re as safe as you can be here. Tony and Max will make sure of that. And you really will like the burgers."

"OK," she said, relaxing. "I do kind of like the atmosphere."

"It’s neat, isn’t it? Relaxing."

"Yeah. Your Dad brings you here?"

"All the time." I looked and saw the door to the place opening. "In fact, speak of the devil...." I laughed.

Dad was walking in the door. He stopped to say hi to a couple of the regulars, when I called to him. "Hey, Dad." He looked up, surprised, then grinned, and walked over to us. I introduced him to Olivia.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"Max’s burgers, what else?"

Just then, from behind Dad, I heard, "Hey, Shithead!"

"Hi, Uncle Tommy," I said with a chuckle.

Olivia was looking at me, wide-eyed. "That’s my uncle, Tom Bovlias. Uncle Tommy, this is my friend Olivia."

"Nice to meet you," he said with his usual rakish grin. "Any friend of Shithead’s is a friend of mine."

Olivia shot me another look. "That’s his pet nickname for me," I said with a chuckle.

They sat with us, getting food of their own, and before long they had Olivia in stitches. My Dad’s a funny guy, and Uncle Tommy is moreso. And Olivia agreed that the burgers were to die for.

We got back to her house and were just sitting there, chatting. "You are a lucky guy," she said to me.

"How so?"

"Your Dad is great. I really liked him. I even liked your uncle, though I don’t know about that pet nickname," she giggled.

"Ah, I’m used to Uncle Tommy," I told her, laughing. "But I’m glad you liked them."

"I was terrified when I first walked in there, you know," she admitted. "I’m not comfortable in a room full of men."

"I’m not surprised," I told her. "Your father’s long gone, correct?" She nodded. "I’ve met your brothers, so I know what they’re like. And every guy you’ve gone out with, I have to say, has been an asshole."

"I know," she said with difficulty.

"Right. So, let’s face it, your experience with my half of the species hasn’t been all that great."

She looked at me in astonishment, blinked, and then said, "Wow. You’re right."

"We’re not all like that."

"I know that," she said with a smile. "But knowing it in your head is one thing."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"I wish I had your Dad," she said wistfully.

"He’s pretty cool."

The End.

Probably permanently.

Kara had to leave for school the following day. She’d been named a Student Resident Assistant. The dorms at Andrew, being as it was a high school, had adults living in them. However, they hired students, Juniors and Seniors, to be assistants. Kara had applied for it, and had gotten it. What this meant is that she had to head for school early, for training, plus to be there when all the other kids moved in.

Good for her, but that meant that our summer, our relationship for now, and probably our relationship for all time, ended today.

My parents, God bless ‘em, sent my brother and sister to my Grandmother’s, then took off themselves for the night. So, Kara came over. I even cooked, which delighted her. Then we went to bed.

It was less teary than our first Grand Parting, actually. I think we were both more comfortable with it. We were also more comfortable with each other, paradoxically--I don’t know if that makes sense. I mean, being more comfortable with each other making it easier to break up. But, somehow, it worked out that way. I loved her. I’d always love her. But I loved her enough to let her go, too.

However, what she said after we were done with a marathon love-making session was true. "I’m gonna miss you," she said. "And I’m gonna miss this for sure."

"Me, too."

"Ah, well. For the best, I guess," she said.

"It is, we both know it. You need not to be stuck in your room waiting for me while you’re in your Junior and Senior years of high school."

"True. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," I said.

"Don’t blow me off. You need to call and write. Keep me updated. I wanna know about the band, and all that. I know we’re going to lose this, I don’t want to lose the friendship."

"Never," I promised her. "Are you kidding me? I might be able to live without us being lovers, but I’d never be able to live without the friendship. That’s the important part."

"Good. As much as I love the sex, and that’s a lot," she said with a giggle, "the friendship was always more important."

"I agree."

She laughed. "You know what? I’m 16. You’re still only 15. We’re way too fucking mature. We should be all broken up about this."

"I think it’s partially because we’ve been there before. This past year was kind of a bonus, you know?"

"True," she said. "And I think we proved something to ourselves. You know, that we could do it. I mean, if I do decide you’re the love of my life, we’d be able to make it work."

"Yeah. But I don’t think I am, you know," I said with no sadness whatsoever.

"Maybe. Maybe not," she said. "I surely don’t know that now," she laughed.

"Of course not. But I don’t think I will be. I think you’ll find him, though. And, you know what? When you find him, I’ll be happy as a clam for you."

"I know you will be. And I know I’m not the love of your life."

"Oh, you think so?"

"I know so."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked her.

"One of these days you’ll figure it out," she said cryptically. "Anyhow, enough of that. One other thing you have to promise me. When that band of yours gets a gig, let me know."

"Of course. You’ll come?"

"You kidding me? You bet your ass. With bells on."

"Good!"

Since this was the big goodbye--and since she was headed back to freakin’ boarding school anyway--her parents let her spend the night. Now, that was nice. My first experience--in this life, anyway--with morning sex. It was half-sleepy and slow and altogether wonderful. A very fitting ‘last time’.

Then her parents came to pick her up, and she was gone.

I was all right about it. Really, I was. But I didn’t feel like spending the day--a Sunday--staring at my four bedroom walls. So I called Olivia.

My social life this summer had pretty much come down to Kara, the neighborhood gang, the band, and Olivia. We’d ended up spending quite a bit of time together. I think it was good for her. We’d even gone back to Max’s a couple of times.

With Kara gone, I just needed--well, not a shoulder to cry on, really, because I was handling it well. I just needed a sympathetic ear. Olivia was the best listener out of all my friends with the possible exception of Michelle--and Michelle was away for a week.

So I called Olivia. She told me to come over. We ended up wandering over to our old haunt, Cabot East Junior High, and sitting on the stone wall in front of the place.

"At least it was amicable," she told me. "I mean, you’re still friends."

"I know," I said. "I’m all right with it, really. I just didn’t feel like being alone today."

She smiled at me, and then said, very softly, "Well, I’m glad you knew you could come to me."

"Yes, I did," I agreed.

"So. You’re on the prowl again, huh?"

I laughed. "We’ll see. Right now I have to concentrate on the band. We want to play the Halloween Dance this year."

"Oh, that’d be cool!"

"I know. They have auditions at the end of September for it."

"I hope you guys get it. Do you think you’re ready?"

"We’re getting there. So, I need to concentrate on that." I gave her a wry grin. "And not concentrate on sex, unfortunately."

"Well, you could combine the two," she said with a wicked grin. "Debbie Romelski’s in the band, right? She’ll do anybody."

"That is not true. Not at all. Debbie gets a bad rap. She’s probably only had one or two more sex partners than you have. By no means would she do anybody."

"Oh."

"However, it is true that she’d probably do me in a heartbeat," I chuckled, getting a nice blink-and-laugh from Olivia.

"So? Go for it."

"Ah, there’s enough interpersonal bullshit in that band. Dave--he’s our drummer--and Karen, the keyboard player, started dating a month ago. And then we have Stan and Michelle."

"Have they gone out yet?"

"Friday night," I laughed. "Stan finally got off the pot and asked her out. Michelle took off with her family yesterday, though, so now Stan has to wait a week to see her again. Evidently the date went very well."

"Good for them. I remember when I used to eat lunch with you guys, that there were a lot of sparks flying between those two."

"Yep. Stan has been afraid of her, though. He finally wised up."

"Good."

"But if I hooked up with Debbie, that would really complicate matters. Plus, it’d only be for sex. Well, friendship and sex. We’re good friends, but it’s not more than that and I can’t see that ever changing. We just don’t feel ‘that way’ about one another."

"Ah." She grinned at me. "You’re a born romantic."

"Guilty," I agreed with a chuckle. "Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to sex just to have sex. Debbie being in the band would complicate that kind of thing, though. And I much prefer being in love. I’ve been in love twice. Even though one ended badly, I like being in love."

"Romantic to the point of being mushy, even," she laughed. "That’s good to know."

"That’s me, the ol’ mushball."

School started--the beginning of my Junior year in high school.

I got through my first few classes, then headed down to lunch. I got there early, because my last class before lunch was right across the hall. So, I got my food, grabbed a table, and waited to see who else showed up.

Olivia was first. "Do you mind?" she said.

"Of course not."

Then I saw Debbie, and waved her over. She was delighted. The table rapidly started to fill up.

After a bit, it turned out there was a knot of us at the middle of the table--me, Olivia, Debbie, Kenny, Danica Rosen, Steve McCauley, Sara Beauchamps, a few others--all chatting. Then, at one end, we had Stan and Michelle gazing dreamily at one another. At the other end, Dave and Karen doing the same.

Sara noticed this after a bit. "You ever feel like you’re surrounded?" she snorted, motioning to the two stargazing couples on either side of us.

"Uh-huh," Danica agreed.

"You’re just lucky Maria was out today, or there’d be three," Steve said. Maria was still his girlfriend.

"You and Maria have been going out for a while," Danica pointed out. "You’re not in that oblivious to the rest of the world stage anymore."

"True," Steve agreed. "Though we can be sometimes. Those guys, though...jeez. We’re three feet away and they don’t even realize we’re talking about them." That brought a round of giggles.

"Oh, it gets worse," Debbie pointed out. "You should see them at band practice. Yikes. Sometimes either Eddie or I or both of us have to work out with Stan who’s going to play what guitar part, right? Oy. It’s like pulling teeth."

I laughed. "There was one song last week we just ignored him. I played the rhythm, Debbie played the lead, and he barely even noticed we’d started a song. Luckily, Michelle is better, she can play while she moons."

Suddenly, Michelle looked over. "I’m sorry, Eddie, did you say something?" That just cracked us up completely. Poor Michelle and Stan were completely lost.

They went back to mooning, and we all chuckled. Then Olivia, who was sitting across from me, looked at me. "Is this killing you?" she asked softly.

"Hm?"

"Them," she said, pointing at Stan and Michelle and then Dave and Karen. "That must be kind of hard for you to take right about now."

"Nah, I’m fine," I said, smiling easily. "I really am OK. A bit lonely, I’ll admit, but it’ll all work out. And I’m not for a second envious of them," I said, pointing to Stan and Michelle. "Shit, they never would’ve gotten together in the first place without me hounding Stan to death!"

"OK, good," Olivia said with a smile. "I was just worried about you, is all."

"No worries. But thanks."

That ended that sideline to the conversation, But Debbie shot me a look I couldn’t quite make out.

Tryouts for the Halloween Dance. They’d been seeing bands all week--and the scuttlebutt I’d heard was that they were so disappointed they were thinking of going with a DJ instead. DJs replacing bands happened a lot at high school dances--it would’ve been a pity.

But we were the last band to try out, on Friday the 19th, and we were determined that the disappointment would stop there, and that there wouldn’t be any DJ. We did it. We played a few tunes, and the Student Council immediately offered us the gig. We accepted. The money wasn’t great, but we didn’t care--it was a first gig. This was to put ourselves out there, we could make money later. Now we just had to put togehter a setlist. We’d be playing 7-11. So, that was four sets, with a 10-15 minute break in between sets. So, we needed three sets of 45 or so minutes, and the last set an hour. We should be able to do that.

After the tryout, I went home. I was relaxing, and the phone rang. Mom told me it was for me, so I went up in my room to take it.

"Eddie?"

"Hello, Kara, I was going to call you. I’ve got news. We got the Halloween Dance gig."

"Oh, Eddie, that’s so great! Can you smuggle me in?"

"Count on it."

"Good. I’ll make sure I come home that weekend." She took a breath. "I need to tell you something." Another deep, long breath. "Um, Eddie? I met someone."

"Good for you!" I said.

"Yes, but.....Eddie? It’s only been a few weeks, but...it’s serious. I think it’s serious. I mean really serious."

"You think he might be The One."

"He might. It was like getting hit by an anvil. He’s a resident assistant, too. I met him at the training. I’d never met him before. I talked to him for an hour and I couldn’t breathe."

"I’m happy for you," I said--and I meant it. Mostly. "Tell me about him. What’s his name? What’s he like? Where’s he from?"

"His name’s Peter, he’s from Newport, Rhode Island. He’s a junior like us. What’s he like? That is the really weird part. He’s definitely got quite a few things in common with you."

"OK," I said, slightly bemused.

"A lot of differences, too, but there’s definitely similarities. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, but he’s close. He’s not as outwardly geeky as you are--but he’s shyer. And he’s like you with girls--only the way you were back in eighth grade, when we first started going out." I could hear the bemusement in her voice. "I threw myself at him and he’s not quite sure what to make of that yet." I had to laugh at that. "He’s more serious than you are. He comes from money, and a prominent family, so I think he feels the weight of some responsibility about that. I definitely need to loosen him up. That’s part of the appeal, I’ll admit, because I’m more serious than you are. But he’s sweet, generous, wonderful to talk to, thoughtful and kind. In that way, he’s just like you."

"Awww," I said.

"He’s also completely besotted with me," she laughed.

"There again, just like me."

"Well, like you used to be," she pointed out. "The distance killed that, for both of us. And dating Kelly killed it for you, I know that."

"Excuse me?"

"You figured out, when you dated Kelly, that there were other fish in the sea besides me. I knew it from the minute I saw you two together. I know it ended badly, but if it hadn’t, you never would’ve gone back with me."

"Well, that’s true, but that’s because I would’ve stayed with whoever I was with. I could’ve never chosen."

"I know that--but you had a choice. You know what I mean? You dated Christine, too, but if I had come up to you and said, ‘Oh, dump her and go back with me’, you would have. Kelly was a true other option, you see what I mean?"

"Yeah."

"I feel funny, though. Because it’s true--I did think there was a possibility you were the love of my life. Peter completely blindsided me. I felt a bit guilty. I still do."

"Oh, Kara, to hell with that. I have a theory, you know."

"About what?"

"Love and all that," I told her. "I firmly believe it is completely possible to love more than one person, and to love them deeply and truly, and sometimes to have it happen at the same time. I think that’s possible even if you’re basically mongamous. I’m perfectly capable of being mongamous in a relationship, and sexually--I don’t ever think I could ever be completely emotionally monogamous. And, if you want to carve out a monogamous future with another person, raising a family and all that, or even in some cases just dating--I think you run into circumstances that are apart from just emotional. You see what I mean?"

"Kind of."

"Let me put it this way. You love Peter?"

"Getting there in a hurry," she laughed.

"You still love me?"

"Well, yeah."

"So. Why are you with him and not me? I’ll answer that for you: distance is one. Lifestyle I’m betting is another. You might just be more compatible with him in the long run, and you owe it to yourself to find out. Doesn’t mean you don’t love me. We’re just not together in that way, because it suits your life more to be with Peter, at least right now."

"So, you’re saying that the difference between you and Peter isn’t the feelings, it’s the places you each have in my life? And that’s OK?"

"That’s perfectly OK."

"Wow. You just lifted a thousand-pound weight off of my shoulders."

"I don’t know why. You did it. With Kelly. You never would’ve tried to break us up, and you knew I still loved you, even though I was witih Kelly."

"I guess I never thought of it that way. But it makes sense. It’s just that, let’s face it--jealousy comes into it."

"True. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous. I just think that it’s something that has to be dealt with. I can get all jealous--if I feel like losing a friendship I value highly. It’s not worth it."

"Yeah. I felt that way when you were with Kelly. I was jealous. But I also loved both of you, so I accepted it."

"Right. I don’t know Peter, but I do love you. And I’m happy for you. Go for it."

"Thanks, Eddie. That means more than I can say."

"So. See if he can come up here with you on Halloween. I’ll smuggle you both in to the dance."

"Great!"

I said I was fine with it. And, on one level, I was. On another level? I was sulky.

It was times like these that I tried to draw on my ‘other life’. Because I knew how much better this one was. I knew, deep down, that anything I had with Kara was a bonus. I knew--and it got proved to me, every time she called, which was often--that we had forged a friendship that was utterly unshakeable, no matter who she was with romantically. I also knew that the friendship was the important part. And I knew I wanted her to be happy. She was. I could hear it in her voice.

But I was still sulky, just a little bit.

So, in an attempt to shrug off the sulkiness, I just put aside any kind of thoughts of love and romance...and, dammit, sex...and concentrated on what I had. School. The friendships. And the band.

We were trying to get our shit together for the Halloween Dance. On this day, we were trying to nail down a set list. Springsteen’s The River album had been released a week ago, right on schedule, so I introduced the band to Two Hearts, which we quickly learned. Everything was falling into place.

Except for two things.

We didn’t have an opening song...and we didn’t have a name.

We had Prove It All Night slotted in the opening slot, but none of us were satisfied with that. Prove It worked better as a second song.

We were discussing it, and then I had a brainstorm. "Hey! How about Message In A Bottle?"

"By The Police?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah!"

"Oh, that’s perfect!" Debbie agreed. "If Dave can play it, that is. That song’s a ballbuster for a drummer."

"I don’t know it," Dave said.

"I do, and it’s perfect," Stan added. "Great opening song. And Dave will be able to handle it."

"I’ll get you a tape, Dave," I told him.

"Me, too," Michelle said. "And Monday, please. We only have two weeks!"

"Done," I said.

Then we started discussing the names. The seven of us, plus Olivia, who was there--she liked to come watch us practice. I wasn’t quite sure why--there was a lot of playing hte same song seven times, then scratching our groins and grunting while trying to figure out other stuff to play. It wasn’t like a gig. But Olivia enjoyed it. I didn’t mind.

Anyhow, we were discussing names, and Olivia was listening in and commenting. At one point, Stan turned to Kenny--who looked like he was nodding off.

"Hey. Someone wanna wake up our keyboard player?"

Kenny opened his eyes and grinned. "Sorry. I’ve had a hard time sleeping the last few nights."

"Obviously you need sex," Debbie said.

Kenny cracked up. "That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?"

"Well, it’s a pretty good answer," Michelle said with a grin. WAITAMINNIT! Did that mean what I *thought* it meant? I think I was gonna have to have a talk with Michelle later! Anyhow....

Kenny laughed and agreed. "Well, yes, it is a good answer. Hard to sleep when you’re horny, it’s true. And if Debbie’s offering, I ain’t gonna say no." ZING! Debbie just had her bluff called. And was stammering and shuffling about it. I loved it!

Olivia was watching this with amusement. "I don’t know if that’s all it would take, though," she said. "The way he just nodded off there, I thought he had sleeping sickness." We all laughed at that, Kenny most of all.

Then Olivia’s eyes got cloudy. She blinked twice, and then grinned. "That’s it."

"What’s it?" I asked.

"The Narcoleptics!"

Kenny cracked up. "I love it!"

"I do, too," I agreed. We all agreed. So, now we had a name. Just in time!

Later that night, I got a couple of phone calls. The first was from Michelle.

There was a little small talk, and then I just asked her. "Have you and Stan slept together?"

"What makes you say that?" she said, with a little hitch in her voice.

"When Kenny said that Debbie’s answer to everything was sex, and you said that it was a pretty good answer."

"OK," Michelle said with a giggle. "You got me. I was going to tell you anyway--well, either I or Stan were going to tell you. Yeah, a couple of weeks ago."

"Was it OK?"

"It was fantastic," she said, still giggling. "He was my first, you know."

"Yeah, I figured."

"I was his, too. That surprised me. I thought he’d slept with Christy--but he didn’t."

"Yeah, I knew that. I think he could’ve, you know. I don’t think she would’ve protested, at least that’s the impression I got. He must’ve been saving himself for you."

"Awww," she said. "That’s good to know. Anyhow, yes, we’ve taken the Big Step. And it was great. I love him, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I think it’s great, you know that."

"Don’t spread it around, OK? Well, you can tell Debbie. She’ll get a kick out of it!"

"Well, Deb probably put the same two and two together that I did."

"Good point!"

After Michelle hung up, Debbie called. And Michelle was right.

"So, that comment Michelle made--are she and Stan sleeping together?"

"Yes," I said with a laugh. "I figured it out and asked her. I just got off the phone with her, actually. They started a couple weeks ago."

"Good for them!"

"Michelle told me to keep it to myself, but she said I could tell you--she knows you’ll appreciate it."

"Yep, the school slut knows all about that sex stuff."

"Ah, Debbie, stop it."

"Well...of course, it’s been so long, that rep might go away on its own."

I laughed. "You didn’t take Kenny up on it?"

"No. But I might. Hey, Kenny’s a good guy, he wouldn’t blab. And though I don’t think he’d ever be a boyfriend or anything, friends with benefits would be cool."

"Well, if you’re into friends with benefits, you can come right over here," I teased.

"Don’t tempt me!"

"Hey, it’s been a bit for me, too."

"Not as long as it’s been for me," she said.

"True, but it’s been a while."

She took a breath, as if she was deciding whether or not to say something. I thought she might be thinking about whether or not to take my offer seriously. Hey, I would’ve done it. Despite what I’d said to Olivia about complicating the band--if it were just friends with benefits, I would’ve done it. Hey, remember what I said about sex being addictive. I was horny. And Debbie’d be fun in bed, no doubt about it, and I knew we could keep it on a friendship level. And she knew I wouldn’t talk.

Her thoughts, however, were going in a different direction. "The difference is, you could get laid tomorrow, if you wanted. Considering you have someone madly in love with you."

"Uh, Deb, the person in love with me is also now in love with someone else and still an hour away."

"I’m not talking about Kara."

"Huh?"

"Boy, are you blind or what? I can’t believe you haven’t seen it."

"Deb, what are you talking about?"

"Olivia."

"Excuse me?"

"I’m talking about Olivia. Who is completely, totally, madly in love with you. We all see it. Michelle asked me the other day if you were ever going to wake up."

"Oh, Deb, come on. Livvie and I are just friends."

"That’s how you see it. I’m telling you, Eddie, that’s not how she sees it. She freakin’ moons over you! I see her looking at you when you’re not looking, and it’s like she’s seeing God or something. I didn’t realize you were this clueless, Ed. She’s head over heels. Trust me."

"Oh, God."

"You don’t feel the same way," she said sadly.

"I don’t know. I never thought about it."

"Oh, I get it. To you, she’s an extension of Beth."

I inhaled, sharply. "Shit. Debbie, you hit the nail right on the head. And I didn’t even realize it. And you never even met Beth!"

"Hey, I’m good," she laughed. "Besides which, I know the whole history. You told me. How close Livvie and Beth were, and how you basically got to know Livvie through Beth. So, it’s natural. You’ve got them connected in your mind. And you never thought of Beth in that way."

"Right."

"Livvie’s not Beth, pal. She’s not dying. She hasn’t known you since birth. She doesn’t have any of the roadblocks to falling in girlfriend-type love with you that Beth would’ve. She doesn’t see things from the same perspective you do."

"Yeah."

"So, there you are. But you gotta figure this out soon, pal. Because if she gets in any deeper, and you reject her, you’re going to break her heart."

"You really think she’s in love with me?"

"I don’t think it, I know it. It’s obvious to anyone who’s been looking at the two of you. That’s what it is. You’ve got to deal with it."

Boy....if Deb was right--and she usually is--I had a lot to think about.