Sam sat in her poorly
lit college dorm room, stroking the reddish-brown wood
of her thirty-year-old Guild guitar. The papers in front
of her rustled as the bitter wind rushed through the
unlatched window. When one sheet blew away, she grew
frantic, until she realized that the words on the paper
were ingrained in her memory. She had spent all summer
writing this song and knew that it had become a part of
her.
She noted the rumpled
pack of Camel lights on the night table beside her and
felt tempted. She lit one and inhaled deeply, watching
as the smoke slipped from her lips and formed a white
cloud in the middle of the room. After several more
puffs, she tired of her addiction and pushed the butt
into the glass ashtray to her left.
Sam lifted her guitar.
Once again and caressed the ridge of the wood, feeling
for any harmless splinters that had surfaced without her
knowledge. Confident that it had not acquired any more
flaws, she applied her capo to the second fret and began
to strum an E chord. She closed her eyes peacefully as
the 12 mingling strings filled the room with melody. E
chord, A chord, E chord, A chord; her mind processed the
progression naturally, without thought.
Why can't we give it
one more chance
so we can figure out if our love will ever last,
If we do I hope that things will be okay,
Because all I really want is for you to stay
her alto voice crooned in melodic longing.
Images of Ben drifted
through her mind. She dreamt of sitting with him in the
Southampton Diner, as they had her freshman year,
drinking endless cups of black coffee and contemplating
what the future held. They had remained friends after
the breakup, though they never discussed what had caused
it. In truth, Sam did not know. When she had left for
the summer, she thought they would visit. But he never
called and she was too humiliated to get in touch. When
school started up again, they managed to regain their
friendship. But the romance was gone.
"God I miss
him," she said out loud.
She wiped away an
unexpected tear with the edge of her sleeve, grabbed her
mug of Chamomile tea from the table, took a sip, and
sighed.
"Jesus...It's been
a year and a half," she muttered under her breath.
"You'd think I'd be over this by now."
Suddenly, her roommate
Alexis entered the room. She was tall and lean, with an
athlete's physique. Her ash-blond hair and pale blue
eyes were stunning against her deep golden tan.
"Hey, I heard you
playing. What are you working on?" she inquired
while pulling her long hair into a ponytail.
"Oh, nothing
really. Just messing around." Sam wondered if her
eyes looked misty.
"Cool."
Alexis noticed that Sam's voice sounded strained.
"Hey, you alright?"
"Yeah, fine."
"But your eyes
look red."
"Nah, it's just
the smoke."
"Alright, Smokey
Joe, will you quit those things already?" Alexis
paused for a second, shot Sam a concerned look, then
decided that she was over-analyzing the situation.
"Well, we're going to dinner. Wanna come?"
"Yeah, I'll be
there in a sec."
Alexis left the room
quickly, leaving Sam
to get ready. She gave
the papers on her bed a sideways glance, then shoved
them behind her pillow.
"God, I have so
much work to do tonight!" Sam's other roommate,
Christie, stared at her plate of mashed potatoes and
mushy carrots.
"Tell me about it.
I have a five-page Theology paper due at 9:00 tomorrow
morning. Why did I sign up for that class?" Alexis
asked with regret. "God," she added,
"you'd think I'd be able to get a decent salad in
here, but look at the lettuce...brown!"
"That's what you
get for being a rabbit," Christie replied
sarcastically.
"Shut up and eat
your carcass. That used to have a face you know."
She turned to Sam who was sitting quietly across the
table. "Hey, cat got your tongue? What's wrong with
you tonight?"
"I guess I'm just
tired." Sam drowsily pushed her bagel away while
twisting one finger around a curl of brown hair.
"So, are you
playing soon?" Christie asked.
"Well, Conor wants
me at The Pub on Thursday night, but I don't think I'm
ready."
"Come on, you've
been playing every day since we've been here,"
Alexis responded. "That makes about a month of
practice."
"I know, but I've
been working on new stuff."
"Let me guess,
it's about Ben." Alexis knew all of Sam's secrets.
"I'm afraid he's
gonna show up. I can't sing in front of him."
"Maybe it's time
you told him," Christie suggested.
"Change of
subject, Sam barked.
"Sam," Alexis
said to lighten the situation, "I know when I'm
forty years old, with four bratty kids, two teeth, and a
broken down trailer home, I'll be switching channels and
you'll pop up on 'VHl Behind the Music'." The three
girls chuckled. "You know you're gonna be
famous."
"Not entirely
true. I'll be on 'Legends' baby," Sam joked back,
feeling cheered.
"Yeah, they'll
talk about your survival from alcohol and coke
addiction, just like Stevie Nicks, and how you overcame
the odds and shit," Christie joked.
"Thanks for
predicting such a happy future for me. What makes you
think I'd be an addict?"
"Because you're
miserable," Christie explained. " All
musicians are. It's like a pre- requisite or
something."
"Mom says I need
to get a whole bunch of guys to break up with me, then
I'll have an entire album," Sam giggled.
"Secretly,"
Alexis added. "I think you enjoy being miserable.
Part of your nature I guess."
"Never," Sam
replied with forced conviction. "Come on, we've
been sitting here for over an hour."
***
Why can't we give it
one more chance,
So we can figure out if our love will ever last,
And if we do I hope that things will be okay,
Cause I'm the one who's heart will have to pay,
Sam murmured into the
microphone.
"Is that
right?" she asked herself. "I sound so
pathetic."
For the next thirty
minutes she sat alone, wishing for the closure she had
never obtained, and hoping that this song would bring
her closer to achieving it. She knew she was stronger
than the lyrics made her out to be, but could not figure
out how to express herself without sounding sappy and
weak.
"Shit! This will
never be ready by tomorrow."
It was Wednesday night,
exactly 24 hours before she would take the stage. She
had finally decided to play at the Pub, after much
interference from her friends. She sat in a small
practice room, wearing fuzzy sweatpants and her favorite
ripped T-shirt, rehearsing her newly written songs.
Butterflies fluttered through her stomach, and her back
was sweaty. She contemplated having a cigarette to
appease her nerves but thought better of it. They
wrecked her voice. Instead she took a big gulp of lemon
tea.
"Am I ready for
this?" she asked herself, half-expecting to hear a
voice say 'No'. When she failed to receive an answer,
she picked up her guitar again and began to play.
She had not fingered
two chords when there was a knock at the door. Judging
from the burly outline through the frosted window, Sam
could tell that it was Ben.
"Relax," she
thought to herself then answered, "Come in."
When he peered around
the door, Sam's knees turned to mush. She was glad she
had been sitting down. Ben was wearing the sweater that
she had given him for his birthday, the one that brought
out the green in his eyes. At 6'5" he was anything
but graceful. Although his tousled black hair and
stubbly beard made him look attractive, his mismatched
clothes and torn tennis shoes were goofy. But somehow
that was what always got to Sam.
"How ya doing
stranger?" Ben said calmly.
"Uh, good. A
little crazy I guess." Suddenly confused, she
asked, "Hey, how did you know I was here?"
"Oh, I stopped by
your room. Lex told me. So I hear you're playing
tomorrow?"
"Shit," Sam
thought. She had hoped that he would not find out.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Awesome. I'll
definitely be there. I need a night out after all the
work I've had this week. Maybe I'll bring Maggie."
"Who?" Sam
asked, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"Maggie, you know
her. She lives in Riordan. Tall skinny blond."
"Oh, Maggie. I
thought you said Peggy," Sam said, trying to
conceal her disappointment.
"Whatever. Well I
gotta go. Just stopped by to see what you're up
to."
"Same old thing.
See you later."
As Ben turned to leave,
Sam's stomach sank, her concentration completely broken.
"Tall skinny
blond," Sam said, mimicking Ben in her most
pathetic voice.
The last thing she
needed right now was to hear about the latest girl in
Ben's life. If he came tomorrow, she would not be able
to play her new songs, without them, she would not have
enough material.
"Dammit!"
Sam picked up her
writing notebook and blue pen. Inspired by Ben's
untimely visit, she began to rewrite her lyrics.
Why can't we give it
one more chance,
So we can figure out if our love will ever last,
And if we do I hope that things will be okay,
Cause if it doesn't work, it probably means you're
gay.
That's definitely not
it, she thought to herself. I just hate him right now.
Part of me wishes he were gay. At least I would feel a
little better.
After a half hour had
passed, her thoughts turned to Alexis, and how she would
not live to see the following night.
***
"I can't believe
you told him." Sam angrily stormed around the room,
throwing books out of her way. "How could
you!"
"He would have
found out you were playing anyway," Alexis said,
justifying her actions.
"I know, but he
shouldn't have heard it from you. Jesus! I mean, how the
hell am I going to play tomorrow when he's staring back
at me in the audience?"
"I'm sorry,
Samantha!" Alexis raised her voice. "But he's
one of your closest friends. You should want him
there."
"You know damn
well that this is different. That's alright," Sam
said sarcastically, "he'll have a little blond
chippie on his arm to keep his attention.
Jesus!"she said, erupting in anger again, "I'm
gonna feel like such an ass."
"Sam," Alexis
said, suddenly calming down, "I'm sorry."
"I know, but this
is not the time for your meddling!"
Alexis walked over to
Sam and sat down next to her on the couch. She put her
arm around her for assurance. "Honestly, that boy
is so dense, he probably won't even realize what those
songs are about. And screw him if he does."
"He better not.
Otherwise, I'm gonna kill you." Sam rose from the
couch lazily and trudged to the kitchen for her favorite
comfort food--peanut butter.
***
Thursday night rolled
around quickly, each minute causing more tension in
Sam's body. She walked into the pub with her guitar case
in one hand, her cigarettes in the other. This was not
the time to quit.
"Hey Sam,"
said Paulie, an employee at the bar, "you can set
up over here."
She leaned her guitar
case against the
stage and flipped each
clasp until the aging wood opened effortlessly. She
pulled out her 12-string gingerly, making sure that it
did not bang against anything. She spotted her favorite
pick in the center of her guitar case, retrieved it, and
put it between her top and bottom teeth. Chewing on the
flexible plastic always seemed to calm her nerves.
"Hey, how many
sets are you playing," Paulie asked from behind the
bar.
"Uh, I think about
two."
"Will you be ready
to go on at 9:00?" "Yeah, no problem."
***
The Pub was packed.
Half of the school must have been there. The mahogany
walls were covered with 20-year-olds, each one sweating
beer as they danced.
"God, these people
don't have anything better to do on a Thursday
night?" Sam grumbled quietly.
Within minutes, she
glimpsed Paulie walking up the rickety stairs to the
stage.
"Now, let's give
it up for Sam Miller," he announced, inciting
cheers and applause from the crowd.
She grabbed her things
and walked onto the wooden stage, her platform boots
knocking against the stairs. The bright ceiling lights
radiated against her face and caused her shiny leather
jacket to illuminate. She approached the microphone,
fishing through her pocket for a pick. As she looked
into the audience. She saw many familiar faces. Alexis
and Christie were in the front row with lighters in
hand, ready to embarrass Sam at the first opportunity.
She looked back towards the bar and spotted Ben sitting
in the corner, alone.
"Blondie decided
not to come, huh?" Sam thought sadistically.
As always, Ben was
drinking a gin and tonic, not with Seagram's, but
Tangueray. He was a snob when it came to liquor. His
eyes locked with hers for a moment and sent her heart
racing. Suddenly he shot his hand into the air and gave
her a thumbs-up.
"No time like the
present," Sam mumbled, preparing to start.
She turned back to her
guitar and took a deep breath, trying to psyche herself
up.
"How's everyone
doing tonight?" she hollered into the crowd. An
explosive roar shot towards her from the audience.
"Glad to hear it.
Well thanks for coming out. I appreciate it."
With her pick in hand,
she struck the initial chord, a G, and went through the
motions. After one successful hour passed, she knew the
moment had arrived.
Before starting the
song, she looked for Ben again. This time she had to
squint her eyes to find him. The room had become so
filled with smoke that it was hard to see. She spotted
him and realized that he had not moved, though it was
obvious he'd had more drinks. She almost giggled when
she noticed the slightly goofy expression on his face.
Either he would not catch on to the song in his
drunkenness, or his altered state would make him more
perceptive.
She began the opening
chord progression and was so focused on the song that
she forgot about her audience.
Several minutes later,
it was over. As an explosive roar of applause erupted
from the audience, Sam exhaled deeply and sighed with
comfort. She looked back towards the bar and noticed Ben
whistling and hooting loudly.
"He didn't get
it," she thought to herself, feeling relieved.
"What a bonehead."
Christie and Alexis
jumped on her from behind, smothering her with kisses
and hugs.
"Hey you were
terrific. I swear you get better every year,"
Christie said reassuringly.
Alexis raised her
eyebrows, curious about Ben's reaction.
Sam, caught her drift
and replied, "No, but he's an idiot."
"I told you that a
year and a half ago. Maybe you'll listen to me next
time?"
"Yeah, that will
happen," she answered sarcastically.
"So can I have him
?" Alexis asked, struggling to keep from laughing.
"You little
bitch," Sam said, hugging her best friend until she
gasped for air.
Their bout of laughter
was interrupted by a familiar male face.
"Hi," he said
shyly.
Suddenly Sam realized
that he was the cute boy from her art class. She thought
she remembered his name but could not be sure.
"I'm Seth. I sit
behind you in Drawing I," he said, grinning from
ear to ear. "I just wanted to say that you were
fantastic."
Christie and Alexis
sensed the chemistry building between the two and
tiptoed away to let them talk.
"Thanks." In
a moment of honesty, Sam admitted, "I was really
nervous."
"No reason to be.
That one song was killer. Maybe you'll give me a
chance?"
"Funny," Sam
replied.
"You know, so we
could find out if our love will last?" he added
jokingly.
"Okay," Sam
retorted with a smile. "Enough with the song
lyrics."
"Sorry. Um,"
he said, suddenly turning bashful, "I was wondering
if you'd want to get a cup of coffee after this."
Sam noticed that he was
biting on the corner of his lip.
Uncertain, she answered
"Well, I still have to get all my stuff
together..." and allowed her voice trail away.
"Come on, I'll let
you write a song about me," Seth replied with
renewed confidence, as the corners of his mouth turned
up, revealing a sexy grin.
Suddenly Ben appeared
from around the bar and attacked Sam with a bear hug,
the stink of gin spilling off his breath.
"Hey girl. Come
on, I'm buying you a drink."
"Well..." she
said, giving Seth a second glance, "No, I can't.
But thanks for the offer." She walked to the side
of the stage, gathered up her guitar case, and headed
for the door with Seth while Ben stood there alone,
looking puzzled. She was about to exit the building when
Alexis called after her.
"Sam, where are
you going?"
She linked her arm
through Seth's and shouted back, "I need material
for a new song."