“No, it does not, Lyla. Wade can burn in hell. Thanks so much for reminding me,” she says and strides over to a shelf of records where I notice a notebook with tiny stars all over it.
“I’m sorry, boo. I didn’t mean to bum you out. I just needed to make sure. Let’s talk about something else. Anything. Tell me something I don’t know yet.”
“Um…”
“What is happening, my beautiful ladies? You will never guess what just happened to me.” Marcus strides in, cocky grin in place. “I was in the production booth listening to a new track when all of a sudden the smell of Stan’s tacos wafts through the air, engulfing me in teenage memories. Any idea how that happened?”
Charlie and I roll our eyes at his dramatic entrance. “You’re welcome.” I wink.
We joke around, and it’s just like the old days when we were kids, just hanging out in Marcus’ parents’ record store. The memories rush through us, and hours go by without us even realizing it. The sun starts to set, and the room fills with vibrant oranges and pinks streaming in through the windows and bouncing against the walls and shelves. It’s beautiful and cozy, just how I feel surrounded by the love of my real family.
“Do you guys remember the first day we met?” I ask my two favorite people on earth.
“Of course!” they both say in unison.
“That was a long-ass time ago. A couple lifetimes it seems like now, looking back. Mom and Dad’s record store was my least favorite place until that day.” Marcus says.
“I still can’t believe you and I had never met before then, Marcus. I was there every day,” Charlie adds.
“At the time I never wanted to be there. I was always out with friends. It was summer break—I was seventeen I think—Dad said I had to work at Record 39 starting that day, and I was pissed. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck working with my mom and dad instead of being at the beach,” Marcus continues.
“I came in looking for a part-time job, and you were overjoyed to train me,” I say, batting my eyes and grinning at Marcus.
“Liar,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s funny how much we instantly hated each other,” I say.
“Hate is a strong word, but I did not like you; that’s for sure. Not until we met Charlie.”
Charlie laughs. “I was lying down up on an old bookshelf in the back corner, and Marcus came over and asked me what the fuck I was doing and scared me so bad I fell.” She air quotes because Charlie has cursing rules. Mainly, she doesn’t unless the situation calls for it, or so she says. Such a classy bitch.
“Then I caught you as you fell into my arms.” He winks and blows a kiss her way, and we all laugh.
“Sad thing is that’s still the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.” She pouts.
“Still better than me.” I laugh even though it’s true. “I came running up behind you guys and asked if everything was okay. You weren’t exactly staring into each other’s eyes.”
“She hit me. Told me to never sneak up on her like that again. I would have been mad since she wasn't supposed to be climbing our bookshelf in the first place,” he says, giving Charlie a goofy look because she still sits on top of tables and shelves and counters. She says it’s because she’s so short, but the real reason is probably because at home she was used to hiding, and it’s just become an old habit.
“But I couldn’t be mad once I saw the t-shirt. Vintage, ripped, and holey but beautiful Beatles 1966 t-shirt,” Marcus says, looking off into a daze, remembering the t-shirt that brought us together and sealed our friendship. “My mouth just dropped, and I was speechless. I stared at your chest like a horny teenage boy.”
I laugh, thinking back to when I first met Charlie and thought she had to be the coolest chick in the world. Her style was effortless and vintage. Mostly grunge but her crazy blond hair and freckles gave her that princess look no matter what she wore. Which she fucking hates.
“Yeah, you two weirdos freaked me out at first, but then you made me feel so cool I had to invite myself into your lives forever.” She shrugs, looking smug.
“Well, damn. I’m glad I own this place, or I would be fired. I better get back to work. I’ll see you at home, Lyla. Charlie, I’ll go get you that email I promised. I really want that band, so let’s do whatever we need to get the ball rolling.”
He kisses us both on the cheek and exits with all the trash from lunch. I’m so drained emotionally and stuffed full of tacos I’m almost falling asleep so Charlie orders me an Uber and I head home for a long bath.