Chapter 1: Finding Rhythm

‘Oh, shit,’ Carole groaned.

‘What?’ I swiveled on my barstool next to her, following her gaze, which was resting on a guy in the band setting up on the small stage. ‘Fuck Caleb, it’s my ex. The universe obviously really wants to make my life into chaos.’ My cousin frowned, raking one hand through her close-cropped dirty blonde curls, as she watched him connect the amp. Then she turned away with an angry huff. ‘I was hoping I’d have found a rebound by now,’ she said sulkily, pouting into her cape codder. ‘Then I could show him how little he meant to me.’

‘You will,’ I assured her. I’d agreed to come along to the bar to be the sober driver and wing man—and, since I was in town specifically to visit her, I didn’t have anything better to do. Hell, maybe this weekend at Carole’s, once she’d found herself someone for tonight ... maybe so would I. Athabasca was several hours away from my hometown. No one here knew Caleb Ito from a hole in the wall. Perfect for a one-night stand, no strings attached, as long as I found somebody who’d—

‘Caleb!’ I had tuned out and suddenly there was my cousin, looking pissed off, shaking my arm. ‘Stop daydreaming. Zombie Finger Decay is about to do their set.’ Carole sighed. ‘I actually super miss going to rehearsals. That was one of the few things I loved about dating Henry. Ooooh I hope they play I Died on Top of my Girlfriend’s Mom! That was always one of my favourites.’

It was my turn to frown at her, deciding that my time for daydreaming was for later, once I’d helped Carole find somebody. Since she was mooning at Henry and the three other members of the band, I turned to look at them too. ‘Were you ever in love with that guy?’ I asked her dubiously.

‘Not really,’ she admitted freely. ‘I thought so at first, maybe, but I think ... it was his band? I was blown away by how good they are, like, for real.’ She stirred her drink with the purple umbrella straw thoughtfully and took a long sip. ‘Even so, I never cheated on him, that rat. I was going to break it off because I knew it wasn’t love, and that’s the dream and all, but then a couple days before he came back from that trip he slept with another girl.’ She snorted. ‘God, I don’t even think that was the first time, Caleb. What a bowl of dirty shit-pasta that wet noodles is.’

I couldn’t help but snort in laughter just a little bit. ‘Carole, honey, I know you’re still getting over the trauma,’ I told her, ‘but I know the story. In every shocking detail. This whole semester, since you met him, that disgusting fuck cheese, has been a mess of late-night facetime calls practically over-analyzing it to death, need I remind you, my dear sweet cousin.’

She rolled her eyes at my teasing tone, finishing the rest of her drink in two long sips and calling for another—it would only be her second, but my cousin didn’t drink often. I’d have to keep an eye on that.

‘Oooh, they’re playing,’ she said, as her ex started a riff on his guitar. I was happy to see Carole smile for a second, even if it was over her ex’s band’s songs—but then she deflated. ‘I guess I just wanted a boyfriend,’ she said ruefully. ‘It gets lonely here, y’know? I never knew that before I got my own place. You like, need people to be yourself. If you’re alone, it’s like ... do you even exist at all? Like that tree thing people always say or whatever.’

‘‘If nobody’s around to hear that tree fall down, does it even make a sound,’’ I recited. ‘But you do have some friends too,’ I reminded her. ‘Like me for example, you moldy lettuce.’

Carole squinted at me thoughtfully for a second before smiling. ‘I like it,’ she decided. ‘Yeah, Caleb. You’re right. I miss you a lot.’ Her drink arrived and she scooped it up with an excited squeak before scooting closer to me and putting her head on my shoulder. ‘Thanks for coming down here to hang with me,’ she hummed, seeming a little happier. ‘I really appreciate it. You’re my truest bluest friend.’

‘Thanks, sweetie,’ I said, feeling a surge of warm affection go through me as I wrapped my arm cosily around her shoulder and drawing her close to my chest as we watched the band play and my cousin sipped her drink. Carole had always let her freak flag fly without a care, and it was something I’d always loved and admired about her. Being quite different—one of the only Asian kids in our small-town school, and my mother one of the only Japanese women, set us apart. I wasn’t bullied too much for it, but it did make me feel different.

Carole and I were cousins by my Canadian father and her mother—my friendship, and our strong family bonds, was what got us through school semi-smoothly. Being the outcast due to her frank and strange, lovable quirks, Carole and I retreated into our own little world with just the two of us until graduating high school. We even attended the prom together. The photo of us, that night, all decked out in our best—Carole glowing and beautiful in a flowing light grass green dress with a sweetheart neckline and a lace shawl, complimented by the simple string of pearls I’d given her for her eighteenth birthday several months earlier. Her short golden curls made her look like Marilyn Monroe. I’m gazing at her with a soft smile. I think my mother would have loved that photo, if she was alive to see it.

Having each other was what had made us strong. This year apart ... it had been hard, to tell the truth, with Carole being so far away from home. I looked away from the band, down at her soft head of curls nestled against my shoulder, nursing my warming can of coke. My best friend in the world. I hoped she knew that, too.