Stormie

Chapter Nineteen - Austin

Austin 

        I didn't see her for two weeks; or maybe she avoided me. I never got the chance to ask. I tried calling once but a machine said the number was out of service and that was that. 

For only being a community college in the desert of Arizona, there were thousands of people always around and I never found her face in the crowds. 

I tried to understand, I tried to put myself in her shoes and I tried to be her but nothing ever changed. She expected people to understand and to help and to be there even if she did nothing in return. She'd had me wrapped around her finger from day one but people grow up and the tie holding us together began to loosen. 

Screaming at me in the middle of the quad and thinking anything would change was stupid on her part. I could blame a lot of shit on the accident that fucked up my life but one legit thing that came from it was this blurry memory thing and a lot of moments that I can't for the life of me ever recall; even if they were post-awful. 

I have problems of my own and when it comes to Sammie, I could have been better for her ten times over but whatever did happen is something I can't change now. Whatever she was shouting about, whatever is hurting her sucks but if she's angry at me for not fixing it, she'll be angry forever. 

Maybe it's Abby but even I'm angry about that. Abby and I had each other when no one else had us. We were lost freshmen, testing college life when all we wanted to do was be home alone to deal with ourselves. We kind of rescued each other; how could I not feel something for someone after going through something like that? 

But Zach would always be the better guy, the stable one, the one with a set future. I'd be the friend, the shoulder to cry on, the one to always be around because I have no idea where the hell my life is going. It's hard falling out of love with someone but it'll happen eventually; at least I hope it will. 

If Sammie would just explain, let me in on what's wrong, maybe then I could begin to help. I can't remember anything bad, I just remember a lot of good when we'd spend band camp laughing and playing music and living this life away from everyone together. 

Two years obviously put such a dent in whatever we'd built in the middle of that forest at camp and now it's too wide to cross. That day two weeks ago when I saw her face for the first time in a month, I wanted to shake her shoulders and then hug her for an hour. 

Seeing her there, at school two thousand miles away from our families felt like this was a second do-over. We lost whatever it was at the end of band camp and I'd left again four weeks ago to take care of the girl who would always be there but now there was nothing in front of us. 

Just Sammie and I, seven months of life and the occasional college class. If she was still angry after looking at it like that, then I'd obviously fucked up in more ways then I could remember. 

Saturday had long been open stage night at Dayton's, the local bar which was pretty much the center of the campus scene. There were a few regulars but the night was mainly dominated by kids who had surges of confidence and hopped up on stage with either an instrument or only their voice; both scenarios usually included tons and tons of alcohol. 

But at the end, around fifteen minutes to ten, our rag tag band joined together to finish out the night. We were more then just a regular; we were kind of the only reason people still came out to the bar on Saturday nights. 

The beginning of my sophomore year - the first weekend I'd picked up my guitar since arriving at school, a guy rooming down the hall heard me and offered me a spot to fill in for someone in his band. At the end of our first show together, he told me the gig was mine; I was a thousand times better then their regular lead guitarist.