OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

thirteen.

OCTOBER, 1990, OLYMPIA, WA

FALL FELL RAPIDLY upon Washington, bringing with it a wind chill and cloudy days that only insulated the frigid air. It was the first week of October, yet Reagan already required one of her heavier jackets to be bundled up in every time she left her house.

Besides the weather, nothing else had noticeably changed about Reagan's day-to-day life. She was working just as many hours at Wilson's as she normally would, and her family continued to be the sun that she orbited around. There was no use in wishing for anything different.

The reminiscence of Reagan having played for Nirvana had long faded like an old memory, and even the myriad of times she had retold the story to Chris did not make it feel any more real. She'd even revealed to her best friend that she had had sex with Dave in the back of the Comet Tavern. At this, Chris had high-fived her.

It was a Friday and luckily, Reagan had nabbed another day off from work. She was spending it with Chris, roaming the suburbs of Olympia and occasionally stopping to chain-smoke at random parks. They had finally found one with a swing set that wasn't falling apart. It was a good place for talking, so there they sat in the swings' bucket seats, dragging their feet absentmindedly on the ground.

"I still can't believe it," Chris said wistfully, pinching the butt-end of a cigarette between her fingers.

"Can't believe what?"

"That you played for Nirvana in Seattle at an actual show with actual people watching."

Reagan laughed, dismissing Chris's reverence of the event with a shake of her head. She looked into her lap. Recalling the night of Nirvana's show had a double meaning for her, one that she was not sure she altogether liked.

"I don't think it's that big of a deal anymore. I haven't even spoken to Kurt or Krist since it happened."

"You don't have to be on speaking terms with them for it to have been a big deal, Reagan. You went from no band, to a band, to no band again. Amazing."

"I suppose," Reagan reluctantly agreed. She stuck a Marlboro between her lips and cupped her hand around the tip, struggling to keep the flame of her lighter burning against it. Just like everything else in her life, it escaped her.

"I guess I'm just really proud that you did it," Chris said, shrugging her shoulders.

Reagan smiled at her, truly thankful that she had someone as loyal as Chris to root her on. Even if she did want to think less of the September concert and more about the present time, she was happy Chris cared enough to remember it. She had not even been there, yet she acted as if she'd watched the whole thing proudly from the crowd.

"You're the best, Chris."

"I already knew that," Chris teased, nudging Reagan's knee with her shoe.

They swung together, oscillating back and forth and breathing smoke clouds into the air. Even if it was cold and dreary outside, Reagan liked this weather the best. Something about the rain and cold combined made it easier for her to think and exercise the passions that she wished to see come to life. She even found that she drummed better on the rain-darkened days.

"Do you still think about him?"

Chris's question, asked quietly by chance, diverted Reagan's attention. She did not need clarification about who 'him' was. She'd avoided saying his name since the night they'd met.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I do."

"Reags, why don't you just call him? It won't hurt," Chris said lightly.