Fast days were my most and least favorite days of the week. I couldn’t just skip them, since Kate and I had agreed to call or text and remind each other. The rules weren’t that strict, but in a crew full of meat lovers who wouldn’t know kale if it walked up and bit them on the ass, following the rules often left me sitting in some greasy diner with nothing to eat but a wilted side salad and tea.
Regardless of my love/hate relationship with my body, I liked food. I liked food too much to torture myself like that.
The end result was that I usually ate alone on Wednesdays and Fridays, having given up on convincing my brothers and our crew to try any vegan restaurants. A few more of our family members had joined us for a few days, though, including Avery and a few of her friends. I had heard one of the girls, Juniper, say that she was vegetarian, so when lunch time rolled around I decided to invite the three of them along to join me. It might have been odd company to keep, a bunch of eighteen year old girls and me, but for whatever reason I had always been closer to Avery than the rest of my younger siblings.
I searched all over the venue for them, since they were supposed to be helping with the merch booth, before someone finally said they thought Avery and Cordelia had gone back to the bus. I headed that way, and was pleased to find that for once the bus door took my key easily.
Avery and Cordelia both jumped nearly a foot in the air when I walked in. Instinctively, I sniffed the air and looked around for alcohol, drugs, boys–anything to explain why they looked so guilty.
Nothing.
The three of us were locked in an awkward staring contest for a moment, no one willing to break the strange silence. What the hell was going on here? And why did Avery look like she was about to cry? Probably some boy drama, I decided. It hadn’t been that long since she and Jeremy had broken up—a few months, maybe, but I knew how that sort of thing could be drawn out and last seemingly forever to teenagers.
Deciding that had to be the problem, I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “You girls hungry? I was going to walk over to this place called Luna’s a few blocks from here. Vegan food. And you know nobody else on this tour is going to eat that stuff.”
“I’m surprised you do,” Avery replied, giving me a weak smile of her own. “Are you sure you’re my brother? Maybe you’re an evil clone.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, giving her a big grin. “But who says I’m the evil one?”
That seemed to break the tension and they both agreed to join me. It took a few more minutes to locate Juniper, and then the three of us took off down the street. We walked in awkward silence, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to break the tension. Maybe inviting three young girls along with me hadn’t been my brightest idea. They weren’t fans and I had no desire to flirt with Avery’s friends, so I really had nothing at all to say to them.
Once we reached the restaurant and were seated, the girls came to life again, gushing over the various smoothies they wanted to order. Whatever weird conversation I had walked in on Avery and Cordelia having was seemingly forgotten, and I even felt myself relaxing a little.
The girls took my offer to pay for all of our meals about as well as I expected a bunch of college students to, but I didn’t mind how much they all ordered. I was just happy not to be alone, even if I did feel rather excluded from their conversation. It was nice to have company that didn’t expect me to be talkative, behave a certain way or entertain them.
Handing the waitress my menu, I said, “Just the arugula salad and a lemonade, thanks.”
“That’s all?” Avery asked. “What happened to my brother the bottomless pit?”
I shrugged. “It’s a big salad. But I don’t wanna stuff myself before soundcheck; otherwise, I’ll just fall asleep at my drums.”
They laughed at that, seeming to buy my joke as plausible. For someone like me, it probably was. It was enough to move the conversation away from my eating habits, at least for the time being, and I lapsed back into silence as the three of them resumed their own conversation. Avery’s friends were a little older; they had both started college that fall while Avery was taking some time off after getting her GED to decide where she wanted to go. Listening to them talk about college classes was totally foreign territory for me, but somewhat interesting nonetheless.
My interest was piqued when one of the girls mentioned some political rally on their campus, but Avery waved a hand at her. “Let’s not start talking politics. Don’t wanna upset the conservative over here.”
“Who, me?” I asked. “Conservative?”
“You are observing a religious fast day,” Juniper pointed out. “I mean, no offense, but you’re not eating vegetarian for ethical reasons or anything.”
I shrugged. “I like routine. I like the church, and I assume Avery does too, or she wouldn’t keep coming back to it. Doesn’t mean I’m that conservative, though. I like to keep an open mind, even if I don’t agree with everything I see and hear.”
“Sure you do,” Avery replied, reaching across the table to pat my arm. It was a little patronizing, but I knew she didn’t mean it. She was the resident bleeding heart liberal of the family, and the rest of us looked pretty conservative by comparison, even when we really weren’t.
The other two girls excused themselves to the restroom, and I decided this was my chance to ask Avery about what I’d seen either. Maybe I should have let it go, but the two of us really were close. I could tell something was still bothering her, and it didn’t seem right to just let that go.
“So,” I said, setting down my fork and propping my elbows up on the table. “How are things in Avery Land lately?”
She shrugged. “Just enjoying the time to travel and not worry about what I’m going to do next.”
“Must be nice,” I replied, nodding. “I mean, the not worrying. I know how great the travelling can be. Helps you figure out who you really are, doesn’t it?”
Avery gave a little start and sat down her avocado and basil sandwich. “Yeah… yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“You sure everything’s alright?” I asked. There was something in her voice, some little something in the look in her eyes that told me she was hiding something, but I had no idea what.
And maybe it was something she wanted to keep hidden. Who was I to demand that she tell me all of her secrets when I knew I couldn’t and wouldn’t tell her mine?
“Nevermind,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “I know you. If something’s wrong, you’ll make sure everybody knows. And you’ll make sure that big brother Zac fixes it for you, I’m sure.”
Avery laughed softly, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just as long as you do the same if something’s wrong with you.”
“I will,” I replied, knowing it was a lie. But Avery didn’t need to know that. She needed the tough, invincible big brother she’d always thought I was. She didn’t need to see my pitiful, weak side; it wouldn’t be good for her or for me.
“Then we’ve got a deal,” Avery replied.
Her friends return to the table then and put an end to our conversation, but I had a feeling it was only the end for right then. Something was happening with her, and I wanted to the bottom of it, even if I broke my promise and didn’t tell her a damn thing.
What could she do for me, anyway? And what, exactly, could I have to tell her?
Despite a nagging feeling of dread, despite the anxiety that gnawed at me, my life was going fairly well. I had a great wife, with whom I had created an adorable little baby, and I was on tour doing what I loved best. What did I have to feel so anxious about? The feeling was clear enough, but the cause was still hazy.
Later, when we walked back to the venue, Avery hung back from her friends and walked next to me. I could tell she wanted to say something, but I didn’t speak first. I just gave her a little nudge with my elbow, knowing she would understand. I’m here. I’m listening. I’m ready when you are.
“Hey, Zac,” she said softly. “What if, after all this traveling, I don’t figure out who I am at all?”
“Who says you have to? You’re young; there’s plenty of time.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” she replied. “I mean, you’ve known who you were since you were, like, nine.”
“Not really,” I said softly, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being a musician. That’s who I am. A drummer. A singer. A songwriter. But I’m not a celebrity, and that was never what I wanted. But… sometimes you gotta deal with stuff you don’t like to get what you do, I guess. And anyway, in the beginning, I was just along for the ride. It took me a while to really understand it all. And maybe I still don’t. So don’t feel like there’s some timeline, like you have to know who you are and what you wanna be by any certain age. It’s not a race.”
“I guess not,” she said, but I could tell she still wasn’t convinced. “And what if you figure out who you are… but you’re not sure you like yourself very much?”
I sighed heavily. “That one… that one, I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for. I wish I did.”
It might not have been the answer she was looking for, but it was the most honest thing I’d said to her all day.