Will guffawed. “That’s a good question.” He puffed his cigarette and grimaced. “I guess because everyone else in this city does it.”
“Are you the kind of guy who goes along with the crowd?”
“I don’t like to think so.” Will’s eyes glittered with intrigue. “You obviously don’t live around here.”
“Why is that so obvious?”
Will shrugged. “You’re intelligent, for one.”
“I’m sure there’s someone in New York City more intelligent than I am.”
“You’re funny, for another,” Will returned.
Ella’s stomach twisted into a beautiful knot. There was no better thing than a handsome guy telling you that you were funny. Maybe this night was the pinnacle of her life.
“Where are you from, anyway?” Will asked, stomping out one-half of his cigarette. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in it.
Maybe he wanted to kiss her. Maybe he didn’t want to rule it out, at least.
“I’m from Nantucket,” Ella said, choosing not to lie.
“Ah. Sweet. It looks beautiful there,” he said.
“It supposedly is. I guess I’m just too used to it to realize it.”
“That’s the curse, isn’t it?” Will asked.
They decided to head back inside to listen to another band. In the back, they howled in one another’s ears about what they didn’t like about these particular musicians. The next band was proof that this scene was just one bad musician after another. Eventually, Will grabbed them beers from the counter with his fake ID and led Ella into the corner so that they could talk more without the heinous parade of terrible punk songs.
Their conversation was already the most nutritional thing Ella knew. It seemed as though everything they said allowed another conversation to blossom. They spoke about music, their goals in the music world, and whether or not they really thought it was possible to make a career as a musician. Both felt that they owed it to themselves to try.
At some point, the bar began to clear out. Stephanie and Brenda appeared in front of Will and Ella’s table; Brenda had her bass over her shoulder and looked prepared to go.
“Oh, Will. These are my bandmates,” Ella said, her words slurring together after one beer. “Brenda and Stephanie.”
Will shook their hands and said it was good to meet them. Brenda then announced that Chris wanted to head to a party a few blocks away.
“We kind of have to stick with him because we’re staying at his place,” Brenda explained.
Ella eyed Will, her heart darkening with disappointment. Was this really the last time she would see Will? But a split-second later, Will removed his wallet from his back pocket, took out a small sheet of scrap paper, and scribed his number across it. To Ella’s surprise, he then bent down and whispered, “I know of a better party. You can crash at my place. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Ella gazed up to find her friends waiting for her. Something in her gut told her that this was what she had to do. Very subtly, she nodded her head and took the paper from Will’s hand. She then handed it up to Stephanie and said, “Call this number tomorrow morning. I’ll be…”
“Just around the corner,” Will announced.
“Yeah.”
“Ella, this is insane,” Brenda said, her face marred with anger and fear.
Will leaped to his feet, removed his wallet again, and handed them his real ID, his library card, his Blockbuster card, and a few stubs from the subway. He began to tell them everything he could about himself— that his name was Will Ashton, that he had grown up “Up State,” and that he was in the city to make it as a musician.
“I’m only nineteen,” Will continued. “I just graduated from high school like five minutes ago. I’ve only had one girlfriend, and we broke up at the start of senior year. I didn’t treat her badly or cheat on her; we just decided that we were better off as friends. Um. What else? I’m allergic to bees. I sometimes get car sick. I don’t do drugs, and I hardly drink.”
Stephanie and Brenda eyed one another, laughing nervously. Ella’s heart nearly burst. Was this guy really doing all this to spend more time with her?
“If you can’t track us down tomorrow, you can call my mother upstate,” Will continued. “I’m from Albany. Her name is Teresa. Same last name.”
“Teresa, huh?” Brenda smirked and tilted her head back and forth. Her eyes locked with Ella’s. “You promise that you’re okay?”