False Starts || Dave Grohl

Chapter 56

"Gross."

I nod in agreement, "Goss indeed."

"Well, I brought dinner to go with Amy's pie. You guys ready to eat?" Casey says over her shoulder as she carries the warm food into the kitchen.

Amy shoots the two of us a look before following Casey, giving Jack enough time to help me off the couch and pull me close so no one else can hear what he's saying. "You can tell us whatever you want, but you really need to stop having us lie for the sake of your relationship..."

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"I swear," Amy exaggerates, "The snake was as long as the football field and as thick as Jacks bicep. Scared the fuck out of me."

Casey and I share a knowing look as I finish the last of my dinner. "You're pulling our leg Ams. There aren't any wild pythons roaming around in this weather."

"Then what did I see?" She looked hurt that I didn't believe her story, and before I can ask if she's had any small squares recently, the phone starts ringing in the other room. "I'll get it."

If I had been my normal cautious self tonight, I would have offered to answer the phone before my roommate had the chance, but I was too late. Amy had already placed the phone to her ear when I remembered that Dave was supposed to call and check in tonight.

Silently I pray to the gods that the brunette idiot would wait until a later hour to phone me, but they must have found this scene humorous because Amy slowly strode back into the kitchen to look at me. "Rose?"

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

"There's a Dale Nixon on the phone for you." Her eyebrows are scrunched together in confusion as she covers the voice receiver, "Do you want me to get rid of him? He sounds like a creep..." The old alias makes me chuckle and shake my head at the short-haired brunette, showing her that I know the person and don't mine speaking to them. "Who the fuck is Dale Nixon?"

I take the white plastic phone from her hand as I excuse myself from the table. "An old friend from home. I'll be back in a few minutes."

As the door to my bedroom clicks shut, I can't help but exhale a relieved sigh. Thank you, David, for saving my ass... "What's up Dale?"

"Oh, shut up Maria." Dale and Maria, the dynamic duo of the early 90s grunge scene, raising hell together on the streets of Seattle. What a time... "I didn't know who that was! I panicked because you said something about your roommate loving Nirvana!"

I fall back on the comfortable sheets of my double bed before responding. "She probably would've shat her pants if you said, 'Hi, this is Dave Grohl.' Happy late birthday by the way."

"Thanks Rose," I can sense his smile through the phone, "Is my wish going to come true?"

My lips purse, deciding to mess with the guy a little. It's the least I can do after the mini heart attack he just caused me. "Well, that depends on what it is."

"If I tell you, it won't come true though..."

I hate admitting it, but I have missed talking to him like this. Playful conversation used to flow easily between the two of us, but now it's like we're strangers all over again. "But if you don't tell me, how will I know if I booked the right dates?"

"So, your professors were good with the trip?" His voice is full of giddy excitement as I play with the string bracelet around my wrist.

Dave had eagerly written letters to each of my professors in order to inform them of the trip and how this would be beneficial for my future career. Needless to say, his bullshit convinced them to let me go – or maybe it was just the signature... "I'm pretty sure Professor Whitt has your letter framed in his office now Dave."

"Oh god," I hear him swallow something on his end of the line before continuing, "If that's the case, I should've gotten someone better to sign the damn things. Who the hell wants my signature? I could've gotten them Bowie or something..."

I roll my eyes, happy to hear him start to sound like his old self. "Yeah, whatever you say Rockstar."

"Rose!" A knock on my door pulls me out of my trance. "We want to go get coffee! Hurry your ass up so we can go."

Amelia, ever the sweet talker.

Dave chuckles, obviously hearing my friends voice through the phone. "You got to go?"

"Yep." A frown forms on my face at the long-forgotten ache in my chest. One that only came when Dave would be away on tour and our phone calls would get cut short. "I guess I'll be seeing you next week..."

"I guess you will," He chuckles, "I'll tell Pat you say hi and that you can't wait to see him, okay? Have a good week."

I nod to myself, sitting up sliding my feet into the Timberland boots that I'd strategically placed next to the bed. "Bye Dave."

"See ya."

As the line goes dead, I let out a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding. This feeling in the pit of my stomach is bad. It's telling me to run for the hills, cancel the fight and block Dave's number because nothing good ever comes from the two of us being together.

We're like gas in a clogged tank, a gradual flow until the pressure becomes too much and everything goes to shit.

"What the fuck are you doing to yourself Rosemary..." My head drops into my hands, digging the heels of them into my eyes before pushing myself up to standing.

I'll get through all of this one way or another. It's time I start living in yellow again rather than the red that I've been stuck in these last couple of years.

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Filler!

Off to LA next to see some familiar faces:)