The Next Song You Write About Me

Roxie's eyes were wide. Her mischievous grin was at its full power.

"Don't think I didn't hear that buried in there."

"What?"

"You're a goddamn teacher? You went through with it, you narc. You teach what exactly?"

"High school band."

"High school band!" She slapped the table and doubled over laughing. Her silverware clattered to the polished concrete floor. Heads turned around the bistro.

"It's all right everybody," Steve said, making a little cup in his fingers and lifting it to his mouth to show everyone she was drinking. "You need to cool it. It's not that funny."

"Yes, yes it is," she said, tears in her eyes. "What are you going to do when all the kids come back next year asking why their drunk aunts are on the internet riding vibrators to the song you wrote about me?"

Steve's stomach dropped through the floor, settling somewhere near the center of the earth. That thought hadn't occurred to him in the slightest. He was quiet for a very long time, chasing it down the rabbit hole. He ended up somewhere at hey, if my day job doesn't work out at least I've got my music.

"Are any of them hot?"

"What?" He snapped back to reality.

"Your students. Any little vixens try to bribe you for the first chair?"

"That's vile, Roxie, even for you."

"I'm teasing you. Settle down. You thought I was hot when I was a teenager."

"Yeah, but I'm eight months older than you. I was a teenager too. I was allowed to think that."

"Uh-huh." She slurped the last of her drink. "Listen, I'm getting another Bellini. Do you have to go home right away or can you come back to my place?"

July 2011

Steve stood next to the dining room table in shock. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. It hurt and that meant the open case and guitar inside must be real.

It was a Gretsch Falcon, black with silver pick-ups and hardware. The big hollowbody was beautiful. The air around the guitar seemed to shimmer, like it was waiting for Steve to send noise through it.

Steve read the note again.

Steven, I can't take you to Governor's School. You know that it's important I continue to work. I understand this is a top-of-the-line instrument. I hope it will make your time there more productive. - Your Father

He wanted so badly to pick up the Gretsch and plug it in, but above him he could hear Jamie pacing around upstairs, raising his voice to Dad on the phone. Jamie loved guitars. He'd even given his first to Steve when he moved out. So Steve was surprised when his older brother had some kind of rage reaction to finding the Gretsch.

This was a hollow victory without his brother on board. Steve closed the case reverently and slipped out the back door.

There was an old oak in the backyard. If you climbed high enough, you could lean out and talk with folks in the back bedrooms. It was a nice day and Steve knew the windows were open. He made his way to the tree and began to climb. He wanted to hear whatever had set off Jamie's temper.

"Don't you dare accuse me of being selfish, you prick," Jamie said, spitting with anger into his cellphone.

"..."

"Okay, you want me to admit I'm jealous? Absolutely, yes. It is a 4,000-dollar instrument."

"..."

"The problem is that you're not here," Jamie shouted. "He should be playing you a song on it right now, but you're off god knows where doing god knows what!"

Steve wiped at his eyes, trying to keep the itching from tipping into tears. Years of listening to Jamie fight with dad triggered his fight or flight like nothing else. It has been a while since a blowup though, and he was older now. He choked down the awkward feelings of shame over what he heard and tried to follow exactly what was going on.

Steve knew he wouldn't catch everything. Jamie was nine years older. Steve had accepted there were things about his brother he simply didn't get. A lot of them revolved around his relationship with Dad.

A whistle sounded from the ground below the oak. Steve whipped around so fast that he bumped his head on the branch above, sending a shower of acorns down below where a pretty brunette was trying to get his attention. Once he shook off the little sting from the branch, he climbed down, dropping next to the shorter woman.

"Hey, Ms. Reed."

"Please stop calling me that when we're not at school," she said. "I've known you since you were born."

"Hey, Lucy."

She smiled and took Steve in a hug. He wasn't as tall as Jamie, but she still had to look up at him even though he was still only in high school.

"Amy's inside listening at the door. What's going on up there?"

"Jamie is going nuclear because dad bought me a guitar for Governor's School."

Lucy ran her hands through her long, dark brown hair to the back of her neck, where they rested after a short massage. She always did that when she was stressed or frustrated. He was familiar with it from being in her English class the previous school year, her first as a teacher. She let them drop to the pockets of her denim overall shorts.

"Come help me put my things in your brother's car and we'll talk." There wasn't much to help with. Lucy packed light. She just told him to be extra careful with a thin, green, padded clutch. "HRT stuff. I need to take it while we're on the trip."

He nodded. He didn't understand in a medical sense, but Lucy had been part of his life so long that the little things trans women had to do a bit differently didn't phase him anymore.

She went and got Cokes from the fridge inside. They sat on the old sofa Steve had found for his garage rehearsal space. Steve moved his head on a swivel, looking all around, avoiding Lucy's warm, searching gaze. She clapped a quick rhythmic beat to get his attention like a kindergarten teacher. He snapped back smiling.

"If I can't call you Ms. Reed, you can't do that shit,"

"Watch your mouth," she said, tapping him lightly on the forehead. "Your brother never cursed this much at your age."

"No, he just screamed at Dad."

"Yeah, well, for lots of reasons. I don't want to pile on George but--"

"It's okay, I know he doesn't treat other people like he treats me and Sperry. She's asked me to explain it to her our whole lives and I can't really. I can tell how frustrated she gets."

"I bet," Lucy said.

Steve's shoulders were tense. He didn't like talking about it. It was one thing with his twin, but he'd felt odd around Lucy for so long that his body wanted to shrink into the corner. That's what happens when your brother's best friend becomes your adolescent fantasy becomes your catalyst to question sexuality becomes your English teacher.

She reached an arm around and pulled him in, putting his head on her shoulder. She was warm and comforting like a big sister would be if he had one.

I mean, she might as well be.

"The person your dad always hated the most was me," Lucy said. She stroked Steve's curly hair. "Even before I came out. He didn't like his boy playing with the fag across the street."

"He said that?"

"First person to ever call me that. I was seven."

He shuddered, angry now. His shoulders popped up on instinct as if he was going to hop up and go join his brother upstairs. Lucy held on and kept him close instead.

"Relax, it all worked out. You think I'm cool, right?"

"I mean, for a teacher."

"Ugh, stop," she said, tussling his hair. "Anyway, Jamie stood by me, mostly. High school started weird, but we got over it. A few years later we were all getting ready for graduation - him, me, and Amy - and --"

"You all went to prom together, right?"

"That's right! Amy broke so many hearts. I think nine boys asked her and she turned them down for us. But the incident happened a few weeks later. Do you remember your Dad's Porsche?"

"Kind of. He never let Sperry or I ride in it. It got stolen, right?"

"Right, kicking off a complex web of events that had lasting repercussions on all our lives." Steve pulled away and looked at her, head cocked and brow furrowed. "So, your brother was a bit of a stud in high school. All-state for lacrosse, all-state for choir. Girls liked that he had, um, diverse interests."

"He loved lacrosse more. Full ride to Maryland to play."

"He hates lacrosse and always did. He wanted to sing. Did you know he also had a scholarship to Juilliard for voice? Your dad was dead set against it. He didn't think music was a good bet for Jamie."

That hit Steve like a ton of bricks. He knew his brother could sing, and Jamie had taught him the guitar, but this was monumental information. Jamie never once mentioned he almost pursued it.

"Shortly before graduation, someone stole and trashed your dad's Porsche. I don't know who did it or why, but he isn't particularly well-liked in the community so your guess is as good as mine."

"I remember that. He was so pissed off that he disappeared for days."

"And he came back to press charges against me for wrecking his car." Steve's mouth fell in shock. "It wasn't me. I had an alibi. But he called the cops and everything. I had turned 18 already so they took me in. The scariest night of my life was sitting in that jail cell with two drunk men eyeing me up and down because the cops wouldn't process me as a woman."

Steve reached out a hand to her arm.

"Did anything--"

"No, my parents came and got me and they were livid. They dragged your dad out over this and some people stood up for me I never thought would. But it's not about me. It's about what Jamie did. Your brother was packed for Julliard, but he told your dad that if the charges were dropped he'd accept the deal to play lacrosse at Maryland."

"That's so fucked up." Steve winced, expecting Lucy to hit him again. She just patted his shoulder and nodded in agreement.

"Nothing about this is your fault, but think about your relationship with your dad. The minute you and Sperry showed interest in something, he was there to fund it. How many boat trips and SCUBA lessons has she had? How much has he spent to deck out this garage so you can practice?"

"Jamie's jealous?"

"Jamie is your biggest fan. He is proud of you through and through. But when an expensive guitar shows up like it did today he's wondering why he is so deficient that your dad couldn't do the same for him. Jamie wants to know why he's not as loved as you are."

Steve didn't try to hide that he was crying. He didn't realize he'd started. Some send-off to his summer adventure. Lucy pulled him in and held him close, spreading her warmth all around him.

***

Despite an awkward morning, the road trip was legendary. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd hung around Jamie, Lucy, and Amy all at once. It has surely been when he was little. But the decade of age difference seemed gigantic now that they were real grown adults in their 20s. Still, they included him in their jokes and asked him a ton of questions about his life.

"Are there any cute teachers at school," Amy said from the front seat, where she had her pretty feet up on the dash. Steve hadn't consciously chosen to sit behind his brother on the driver's side, but his hormone-crazy body just kind of moved there when he saw Amy was going to be riding shotgun. He was slow to answer because he was appreciating how much leg her little athletic shorts revealed. "I used to have this mega crush on Mr. Ingles, my math teacher.

Lucy, also in the back, looked up from her book.

"Please don't ask him that," Lucy said. "I don't want to know what teenage boys have to say about me and I don't want to know what they think about my colleagues." She turned to Steve. "Sorry, bud, no offense." Lucy folded the book closed over a finger so she wouldn't lose her place. She leaned forward toward Amy's ear. "Greg Ingles just got divorced last year."

"Don't you dare tease me, you bitch."

"Hey, language," Jamie said. Amy turned her head and rolled her eyes so Steve could see. He laughed.

"Yes, sir."

Steve loved their banter. He could watch it all day. Other than Sperry, he'd never felt as comfortable with anyone as these three were with each other. They could finish one another's sentences and despite the millions of little differences between them, they just moved in lockstep through the world.

He wondered, not for the first time, why his brother never dated either girl. None of the girls Steve had talked to had come close to being as funny and free as Amy or as kind and sweet as Lucy. And these two had been that way as long as he could remember. Maybe it was--

"Ow, fuck!" A bag of Doritos had come sailing from the front seat to hit him in the head.

"Language," Amy said, grinning. "You were drifting off, Steve. I asked you to tell me again about nerd college."

"Don't call it that," Jamie said, bristling. "It's very prestigious. Just because you never got invited..."

Amy stuck her tongue out.

"Governor's School is, uh, I guess it's like a statewide summer camp for academics," Steve said, explaining it for the hundredth time since he was accepted in April. "They have different disciplines at different colleges around the state. I'm going to the performing arts one for guitar."

"To get in you have to be a top student at school," Lucy said. "Teachers nominate students and then there is a whole application process. We only had three kids qualify this year: Steve, Sperry, and Jake Nguyen."

"So, nerd college," Amy said, winking.

"I get to spend the next month playing with other good musicians, away from mom and dad," Steve said. He leaned forward towards Amy. "I'll be as nerdy as they need me to be."

"Proud of you, dude," Jamie said, looking back in the rearview.

"Thanks, bro."

***

It took about five hours for the quartet to make it from the DC suburbs to the little college campus in the southwest corner of Virginia. There was a bigger university close by, but the state had chosen the smaller one for this camp.

That made no difference to Steve. It looked like every college should: wide-open spaces, stately buildings, and the busy activity of young people moving into dorms.

As Jamie hunted for a spot, Amy called everyone to order.

"Here's the plan," she said, eyes slight with conspiracy. "When we park, Lucy and I are going to walk you into registration. Jamie is going to follow us at a respectful distance. We call this a power move. Lucy and I, being notably hot, will draw attention to you in a positive way--"

"It's Crasher Rule #6," Lucy added helpfully. Steve looked at her with a blank stare. "You haven't seen Wedding Crashers? God, it came out like five minutes ago. You kids make me feel old."

"Luce, focus," Amy said. "We're going to play up the notable hotness. I'll twirl my hair and everything. The upshot is that every girl will be looking, wondering how you rolled up with stunning older girls who aren't possibly old enough to be your gay moms. The guys too, they'll want you to teach them your game."

"Can I just--" Jamie said.

"Amy, I don't have game. At all. Unless I'm playing guitar, I stumble around like a baby giraffe."

"Well, just take it slow and adopt a mix of 40 percent friendly and 60 percent disinterested."

Steve tried to work out in his head what that meant.

"Is that the exact ratio you've used all these years?"Jamie turned the wheel as he finally found a spot. "That's so fascinating to finally hear. I get no say in this, right? Like this is an Amy thing we can't stop no matter what?"

"Correct."

"Steve, are you okay with it?"

"Yeah, yeah. It should be fun."

It was. Steve couldn't stop smiling as the girls play-acted infatuation. They didn't cross any weird lines, but they'd giggle when he spoke or touch his arms lightly when people were looking. Amy didn't have to put on much of an act, but Steve was surprised how coquettish Lucy became.

"And, like oh my god, we never need to speak of this ever again," she said.

It was as they neared the registration tent they both lost his attention. He happened to turn his head towards a group of people to his right and time stopped.

Well, it didn't stop. He was still moving. Amy and Lucy were still pulling him along. But he felt like he was floating out of his body, detached from the physical world.

There was a low brick wall stretching across the quad, and, standing by it, a large group of girls. They were a diverse set, with no apparent common tie between them, except that their attention was focused on a girl standing on the wall.

Steve had heard people described as magnetic, but he figured that was a metaphor. Not this girl. Every molecule that made up Steve Byrd screamed to rush to her, to be near her.

She was pretty at a distance. Dark hair in a messy bob. Fashionable in skinny jeans and a tube top. Beautiful golden skin. And what she was saying made people laugh.

But the attraction was deeper. It was a new and far more profound emotion than anything he'd ever felt. It settled somewhere in his heart or gut. He couldn't decide.

Amy and Lucy pulled Steve into registration as he looked back and thought, simply, she's important.

***

Amy pulled Lucy away to lay out.

"What's that?" Steve had asked.

"Time-honored collegiate tradition," Amy said. "When the weather is nice, you put on something cute, grab a blanket, and go to the quad to lay out."

"So...sunbathing?"

"No, what Amy is talking about is more like fishing," Lucy said. "The goal is to be seen, preferably by cute boys, in her case."

"But not yours?"

"Well, I'm a lesbian so no. We do something similar in book stores though."

"Stop intellectualizing it," Amy snapped. "Laying out, sunbathing, whatever. Luce, we didn't get to do this together in college so I need you with me to recapture our youth. Plus you are too pale, girl."

"You know you're only 25, right?"

They bickered as they walked away, leaving Steve alone on the sidewalk. He made his way back to the car, where Jamie was shifting luggage around trying to get Steve's things together.

"Hey, dude," he said, seeing his little brother approach. "I just spoke to Mom. She and Sperry made it down to Newport News okay. She said Sperr-bear is settling in okay. Her roommate is apparently 'polite and calm.'"

"That's good," Steve said. "I know everyone is worried about her going off for a whole month like this, but she's so excited. A month of marine biology and oceanography projects. She'll be so focused that she won't have time to get overwhelmed by all the new people."

"You'll call her right?"

"Every day," Steve said. "Sperry made me a schedule before we left." He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app. "I am supposed to call her at 8 p.m., or text her at 7:50 p.m. if something is going to prevent me from calling."

"What would we do without her?"

"Know a fuck ton less about the ocean?"

"Hey, brat, watch your mouth," Jamie said, a serious look on his face. He couldn't hold it though and he laughed as he took Steve in a playful headlock. "Let's get you moved in."

Jamie started unloading bags. When he slid Steve's travel guitar case from where it was bungied to the back seats, he insisted on checking it to make sure it was okay after the trip.

"Oh come on, it's fine," Steve said, trying to close the case as Jamie opened it. His cheeks went bright red. Inside wasn't a brand new Gretsch. It was Steve's favorite guitar, the one passed down from Jamie. "I just...I hadn't played the other one...it's probably better to have a familiar...you know, I just love the tone from a Telecaster."

Jamie touched the pickguard reverently, and closed the case. He didn't say a word when he pulled Steve in for a bear hug. Steve put his arms around his brother. He remembered days as a little kid, when Jamie would let him hang out in his room, trying to get his hands around the fretboard. He'd always felt so safe in those memories of how a family should work.