Chasing Death Metal Dreams (20 page)

Carlos waited for the rest of it, but she just turned away and began takedown.

They got their stuff stowed, hers in the van, Carlos’s guitar in his car, and the practice space locked up. Carlos turned to say good-bye, but Mia reached out and tugged on the hem of his shirt. “So when are you going to tell me about him?”

“About who?”

“About the guy who has you feeling so mellow you didn’t wrap your mike stand around Foster’s neck.”

“Those stands cost good money,” Carlos stalled.

Mia made a rude sound. “Wrong answer. Come on, am I your fag hag or not?”

“Jesus, Mia!” Carlos glanced around automatically. Mia punched him in the stomach hard enough to make him wheeze slightly. “What was that for?”

“Being a secretive, paranoid pukeface.”

“Witchbitch.”

“Dickhole.” Mia frowned. “Wait, that’s probably not an insult to you, is it?”

“That would be TMI.”

She sighed. “Well, you don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me anything. Just don’t pretend like I don’t know what I’m seeing.” Her shoulders slumped as she turned away.

“Wait! Okay.”

The brightness of her smile as she quickly turned back told him he’d been played a little, but he didn’t really mind. He realized he wanted to talk to someone about Nate. With Tía Lisa two states away, Mia was the only choice, and she was his best friend. “There
is
a guy.”

“Name?”

“Um, Nate.”

She came closer, pretending to glare at him. “Tell me he’s not another crazy musician.”

“Not.” Carlos couldn’t hold back a smile. “He’s a crazy artist.”

“What kind?”

“Drawings, paintings, stuff like that.”

“And you like him.”

“Yeah.” Carlos bent over, pretending to be interested in a fresh scrape in the van’s battered paint. “He’s cool.”

“And hot?”

“Well, duh. And smart.”

“So when can I meet him?”

Carlos straightened fast, staring at her. “You want to?”

“Well,
duh
,” she mimicked, then softened. “Only if you want. But you’ve been happier this last week or two. You actually wrote as close as I’ve heard you get to a real love song.”

“I never said anything about love.”

“In life or the song? Don’t panic. I like that you seem happy. And I figured as your best friend, it’s probably time for me to threaten to castrate him if he hurts you.”

“Ouch. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. When I meet him.” She smiled brightly, her head tilted.

Carlos considered. By now, he totally trusted her, but she would be relentless in her hints when they were alone, until she got to meet Nate. He didn’t want to be distracted. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “How about in half an hour?”

“Seriously?”

“He works as a barista in this coffee shop in Lacey. He has a break. Why not?”

Mia stared at him, then barked a laugh. “Wow, you are gone, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The closest you’ve come to introducing me to one of your men was when you puked that guy’s cum on me in the truck.”

“Yuck. Don’t remind me.” He’d taken her to a gay club in Seattle, gotten very drunk and blown a guy. And then he rode home in her van with the crap shocks.

“I’m the one who gets to say ‘
Yuck
’.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“So tell me about this man of yours.” She slid her arm through his and bumped his hip. “I’ll drive, and you can spill.”

“I’ll drive.”

“I want to live. Plus I’m not leaving my kit parked here.”

“Damn.” He surrendered to what had been inevitable since he’d said Nate’s name. “All right. Let me get my guitar and stick it in back though.”

Mia didn’t actually bug him to talk on the drive. He found himself oddly hesitant. He’d wanted to share Nate with someone, but now that he could, he wasn’t sure what to say. He gave driving directions and otherwise stared out the window. He could talk about Nate’s taste in movies or his artistic talent or the way he seemed so easy in his skin he made Carlos feel calmer and more real, just being with him. But he wasn’t sure how to put any of that in the right words.

After fifteen minutes, Mia said, “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Huh?” He came out of his trance abruptly. “No, I want to. It’s just, um, you might as well meet him, and then I won’t have to explain.”

“You could write a song about him.”

He kind of had. She’d been right earlier— “Stumbling Down the Road” was about Nate, in a way. About finding someone who was a light in the fog.

Mia started singing, “
Nate and Carlos, Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-ouch!
”

He rubbed her knee where he’d pinched her. “Well, you were flat. You know that bugs me.”

“Right. Like that was the problem.”

“This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? You’re going to embarrass the hell out of me.”

She grinned wickedly. “Maybe. When Angie dumped me, you made a scene and threatened to push her in the swamp.”

“She dumped you in the middle of a party. She deserved it. Anyway, Nate hasn’t dumped me.” He flushed, remembering that he’d almost done the dumping. Thank God Nate didn’t hold much of a grudge. “He’s the opposite of dumped.”

“Opposite? Like, stuck on you?” Mia chortled. “Use more lube, big guy.”

He pinched her again, but not hard. Without her, his closet would have been almost too much to take the last six years. “Behave.”

“Me?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Ah, hell, no, bad idea. Just watch the road and don’t embarrass the guy where he works.”

“Deal.”

When they walked into the coffee shop, Nate was at the counter and a girl a bit younger than him was working the drive-through window. Mia leaned toward Carlos, pointed her chin at Nate, and said, “Him?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s cute. Looks familiar.”

“He has a brother in the music scene.”

Mia paused. “Really? Is it smart getting involved with him then?”

Nate looked up, saw them, and a slow smile lit his face. It warmed Carlos somewhere inside. “Too late for smart.”

Mia glanced between them. “I see that. Okay, come on, introduce me.”

Carlos steered them to a table. “Sit here. I’ll talk to him.”

Mia for once did as she was told, glancing up at the menu board. “Get me a caramel hazelnut iced latte. With whipped cream.”

“I live to serve, Your Highness.”

“Show respect or I’ll make you pay for it too.”

“It’s on me anyway.” He hurried over to the counter. The girl had finished with her customer and was frankly listening, so he just told Nate, “Hi.”

Nate asked, “What’ll it be?”

You. With whipped cream.
He placed their order instead. “You could sit with us when you’re done.”

“You’re sure? That’s your drummer, right?”

“Yeah. Mia’s cool. She’s been my wingman for years.” He lowered his voice. “I told her about you.”

“Really?” Nate’s eyes glowed. “Cool. Awesome, yeah, I want to meet her. Ten minutes.”

Carlos collected the drinks and carried them to the table. He deliberately put his back to Nate, so he wouldn’t spend the time staring, and he and Mia spent the ten minutes arguing amiably about song order for their Sparkfest set. Mia wanted to skip any covers, and showcase the original stuff. Carlos thought a sprinkling of songs the audience could sing along to eased the way. “Doing only original stuff is tougher for the audience, like fucking without lube,” he said, just to make her choke.

“Bastard.” She rubbed whipped cream off her nose. “Okay. Two covers. Heaven forbid you fuck the audience up the ass dry.”

Behind Carlos, Nate said, “Um?”

Mia laughed, and Carlos turned, almost tipping his chair. “Hey, sit down, dude. Mia, Nate. Nate, Mia. Intros done.” He took a short breath and tried to seem cool.

Nate pulled over a chair and sat between them. “Hey, Mia. I’ve heard you guys play. You’re amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“And you have great arms.”

She snorted. “I thought you were gay.”

Nate’s mouth tilted up charmingly. “I heard my straight brother say so.”

“Well, I don’t date musicians, so he’ll have to like them from a distance.”

“Ah.” Nate flushed and sipped at the coffee he was holding.

“Okay,” Carlos said. “Awkward banter out of the way. Nate, are you coming to Spark?”

“Yeah, I got the day off. I owe Julia, like, about three nights in exchange, because no one wants to work an extra Saturday, but she agreed.” He leaned out to wave past Carlos and blow a kiss.

“Is she watching us?”

“Yeah. She says I’m acting goofy, and she’s been trying to figure out who the new guy is.”

Carlos turned to Mia. “What is it with you women? We start acting different, and you assume it’s a romantic thing.”

She smirked. “So, were we wrong?”

“Um.” He looked at Nate, who shrugged. He felt heat flush his face. “Well, no, not this time. But you could’ve been.”

Mia said, “Nate, do you want to invite her to come on over and hang with us? Is she a friend?”

“Friendly, but not like you two, I guess. Anyway, she has to man the register while I’m on break.” As if to punctuate that, the door chimes tinkled as a middle-aged couple walked in and headed for the counter.

Mia said, “So, Nate, what do you do when you’re not doubling up the whipped cream on your friends’ drinks?”

“Roadie for a bunch of guys who play this really loud, harsh, ear-blasting music?” Carlos kicked his ankle, and Nate winced and laughed. “And paint and draw. I’m taking up running, because
someone
has a sweet tooth.” He gave Carlos a mock glare.

“Running is good for you,” Carlos said blandly. He reached over and patted Nate’s flat stomach. “Take the flab right off you.”

“Harsh,” Mia said.

“I don’t have flab,” Nate grumped. “I have a smoothing layer. Keeps my stomach from being all bumpy like yours.”

“TMI,” Mia said. “I don’t need to know about your stomachs. I’m not really into guys’ stomachs.”

“Not even Captain America’s?” Nate teased. “I read where every woman in America is into his abs.”

“Gay-erasure strikes again,” Mia said.

“Ooh, have you been talking to my shrink?” Nate asked.

“You have a shrink?”

“No, but if I date Carlos much longer I’m gonna need one.”

“Hey!” Carlos said. “Sitting right here.” He knew it was just banter, but that got him in a tender spot. He
did
have a shrink, who’d said that someone dating Carlos was welcome to come in for a chat about their own questions on trans issues, if they wanted to. It’d been well-meant and still had made Carlos even less inclined to date. He wasn’t quite sure how Nate had snuck in past his guard.

Nate flashed him a grin. “Just kidding.”

He made a grumpy sound, but sat back, slouched in his chair, and watched Mia and Nate bond over action movies and women’s rights.

“My mom is a real equal rights activist,” Nate said eventually. “The quiet kind, but she speaks her mind clearly to everyone. She’d love to know a female heavy metal drummer.”

Mia said, “My mom wants me to quit playing ‘
that awful metal stuff
’ and find a nice boy.”

“Doesn’t she know you’re queer?”

“Well, I’m bi, but I’m more into women lately. She’s hoping I’ll change my mind about that.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m wearing her down. She’s not really homophobic, just clinging to her vision of my lovely wedding with a big strong guy and seven sweet grandchildren.”

“All attending the wedding?”

Mia smacked Nate’s chest, just the way she did Carlos’s. “After, at regular intervals.”

“You could do that with another woman and a sperm bank. Do you want seven kids?”

Carlos coughed. “Mia says little children are the spawn of the devil.”

“Well, they are,” Mia insisted. “They make unholy noises, douse you with gross liquids, and demand your worship. What would you call them?”

Nate said, “Nieces and nephews, I hope.”

“Works for me too.” Mia shrugged. “I have a sister and a brother. They can do the spawn production.”

Nate nodded, then pushed back his chair. “Listen, I have to get back to work. I’m off in two hours. Carlos, want to hang out after? Or, um, Mia too, if you like.”

“Hell no,” Mia said. “I’m not standing around for two hours to watch you two drool over each other. I’m out of here.”

“My car’s up in Tacoma,” Carlos said. “I got a ride down with Mia.”

Nate glanced between them, then back at the counter where the girl was gesturing urgently. “I could give you a ride back up there later, if you wanted to stay.”

Carlos waved him away. “Go work. I’ll let you know in a minute.”

As Nate walked away, Mia said, “You should totally stay. I’ll hang on to your guitar till tomorrow.”

“You’re sure? This was a long drive for you to just spend ten minutes. We could go do something else now we’re down here.”

“I wanted to meet Nate. I met Nate. I’m good.”

He gritted his teeth not to say it but couldn’t resist. “Do you like him?”

Mia kept her face expressionless, sitting silently, long enough to make Carlos sweat, before saying, “I guess he’s okay…” Then she laughed. “I’m giving you a hard time. He’s cool. He’s even cute in a kind of elfish way. And he’s not dumb.”

“Wow, high praise.”

“He’s someone I wouldn’t mind hanging out with some more, if it wasn’t a weeknight and a two-hour wait.”

“Ah. Yeah. Good.” He hadn’t realized how tied up in knots he’d been until his stomach unclenched. He really needed Mia and Nate to be okay with each other. When Mia had been dating Angie, who’d been a stuck-up bitch and totally not worth her time, it’d been really uncomfortable and awkward.

“So, you do want to stay here, right, C?”

It was a work night for him too, and the smart thing would be to head home. “Yeah, I do.”

“So fine, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow. We’ll go through the whole set with Foster, get the order cast in stone. It’s all good.”

In a sudden rush of affection, he leaned over and hugged her. “You’re the best, um, that anyone ever had.”

She hugged him back. “Best friend? Best queen and ruler of the universe? Who are you and what have you done with Carlos?”