Hold A Mirror Up To Nature
The next few days progressed in the same manner. Donovan and I continued to have amazing chemistry on stage, despite hardly speaking off stage. Zac continued to act like absolutely everything was normal between us whenever anyone else was around, and sometimes even when it was just us. We even continued to pass silly notes during class. But things weren’t the same and we both knew it.
And things between Taylor and Whitley only continued to get more and more tense. She pretended everything was normal as well, but I knew that was a lie too. Zac hadn’t, to the best of my knowledge, been able to confront Taylor about his apparent sexuality. But I didn’t ask. I felt like it was becoming less and less my business what was going on in their private lives. So I kept quiet, but it wasn’t easy.
Homecoming week was a giant blur and flurry of activity all over campus. I walked across campus in the evening darkness, stepping on all the crunchy leaves I could find on my way toward the Campus Center. A special coffee house was being held that night for students and visiting alumni. Anyone who wanted could sign up for a spot to perform anything they wanted – poetry, spoken word, music, comedy, whatever. I knew a ton of my Artist’s Colony friends would be there and Justine had promised to save me a good seat. Luckily, the event began just as rehearsal was ending, so I only needed to hurry a little to arrive on time.
When I finally made it to the second floor of the Campus Center, I had to wind my way through a large throng of people to reach the table near the front where Whitley and Justine sat sipping their free hot chocolate. I smiled and opened my mouth to call out to them, but someone was taking the stage and tapping the microphone so I took the hint and kept quiet.
Sliding into a seat at their table, I lowered my voice and said, “Hey, girls. Have I missed anything?”
“Not yet,” Whitley leaned toward me and said, “But have you seen Zac tonight?”
“No, why?” I asked.
She pointed to the other side of the room and I saw him standing there locked in an intense conversation with another boy whom I didn’t recognize. The other boy held a guitar strapped over his shoulder and a few sheets of paper in his hands. Zac leaned over and pointed out something on the paper, and I suspected it was probably lyrics or sheet music of some kind.
“He’s going to perform tonight? He didn’t tell me,” I said, lowering my voice even more as the first performer took the stage. I sat back in the chair and listened as the boy on stage recited something in between a rap and a poem about his struggle to keep up his grades and make his family proud. The language was simple but I liked the way it flowed off his tongue, and I could tell the emotion behind it was real.
When he finished, Justine leaned toward me, clutching her steaming coffee cup. “So did you go back and get the dress?”
“Yeah, I don’t know why I was so worried,” I replied, “You know my dad. He’s always willing to fling money at me. It’s the only way he knows how to show his emotions.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t be complaining about that,” Whitley interjected, laughing.
I laughed at that, but truly I disagreed with her. Money didn’t solve everything and I wished my dad would learn that. He was trying; I knew he was. But even though I knew the new cell phones and designer clothes were his way of saying “I love you,” it still left me wanting, and feeling like a spoiled brat. I just couldn’t win.
The next few performances were hardly memorable. A lackluster rendition of some John Mayer song, a nasal country song that was so sappy and over the top I wanted to laugh, and a few more spoken word pieces that weren’t quite on par with the first. Then the boy I didn’t recognize took the stage, followed by Zac and Taylor. Zac sat down behind the drumset that had been borrowed from the music department and Taylor took his place at the keyboard. The other boy stood at the microphone and adjusted his guitar, plugging it into a tiny amp which buckled into his belt. I laughed a little as Zac began rearranging the drums to better suit his style of left handed playing.
“While my brother makes it really difficult for the next person who plays that set, I just wanted to take a chance to introduce myself,” the boy began. “I’m Isaac, and I graduated last year. This is my second homecoming here, and I always enjoy coming back. Me and my brothers figured we would just play a few songs for you guys, so here we go. Zac, are you ready?”
“Yup, ready to go,” Zac replied, tapping the cymbals lightly.
“Alright, let’s hit it,” Isaac replied, strumming his guitar.
He plucked out a few notes, just to get the feel of the song, then turned to his brothers, waiting for them to join in. Taylor nodded his head, tapping out a melody on the keyboards, then Zac filled in the drums. After a few bars, Isaac began singing the familiar tune.
“My friends feel it’s their appointed duty. They keep trying to tell me all you want to do is use me. But my answer to all that ‘use me’ stuff is I wanna spread the news, that if it feels this good getting used…”
Under our breath, Justine, Whitley and I all sang along with him. We couldn’t resist it; the song was just too catchy and their cover of it was pretty faithful to the original for three white guys from Northern Virginia. The entire crowd was swaying and softly singing along with it.
“…it ain’t too bad the way you’re using me, ’cause I sure am using you, to do the things you do…”
When he finished the song, the crowed erupted into applause and cheers. I couldn’t find it in myself to be quite that cheerful. It seemed like Zac was keeping so much from me. I knew that he and his brothers played music together, but I had no idea they were all so talented. And I didn’t even know his older brother was coming to visit for Homecoming. I felt irrationally betrayed by the entire thing. Still, I cheered and clapped. When the clamor died down, Isaac moved his microphone over to keyboard and helped Taylor adjust it.
Taylor tapped the microphone a few times, just to test it, then spoke into it, “Well, luckily the people running this said we could have the stage for a while, so now you guys get to hear me. I’m gonna play a little bit newer song than Ike did. Hope you guys enjoy it. If you don’t know it, it’s by a guy called David Gray and you really need his CD.”
Taylor cleared his throat, then began to play the keyboard. Zac and Isaac stood awkwardly around, not joining in at first as Taylor began to sing.
“Meet me on the other side, I’ll see you on the other side… Honey now if I’m honest, I still don’t know what love is, another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled…”
After several verses of just Taylor’s haunting vocals and the keyboard, Zac picked up his drumsticks and joined in, soon to be followed by Isaac strumming gently at his guitar. Zac added in his vocals in harmony with Taylor, his voice high and light like when he first sang for me. I knew Taylor hadn’t picked this song by accident. It made perfect sense, but probably only to him, Zac and myself. And maybe Joseph, if he were there. In time, maybe Whitley would understand it too.
“I’m sick of hearing my own lies, and love’s a raven when it flies. Meet me on the other side, I’ll see you on the other side…”
While the audience was still applauding Taylor’s song, the boys began shuffling around, switching instruments, moving microphones, and rearranging the drum kit once again. Once Taylor was in place at the drums, Zac sat down at the keyboard and leaned in to the microphone.
“Okay, I’m sure you guys are sick of us by now. But we’ve got just one more song. This is one I wrote myself and no one but me has ever played it before… so this could be interesting. But hopefully the message gets through.”
He bent his head down to the keyboard and I could just barely see the look of concentration through the strands of hair dangling over his eyes. He began to tap out a melody on the keys, then stopped. I thought I saw a murmured “fuck” leave his lips. After a second’s pause, he began again. This time he got off to a better start, and soon Taylor and Isaac joined in, both looking down at sheets of paper laid on the floor. I was so impressed by their improvisation that I almost forgot to listen to Zac sing.
Woke up early
To try to catch the rain
Across Pennsylvania
On a western bound train
All our pictures can’t replace the things we’ve said
I don’t know where we’re going yet or where the tracks lead
I can’t say what is waiting for you
At every stop
You blow my mind and change direction
The simple fact is I’ve fallen now so if you get off
I’m gonna wait here for you
I’m in Seattle
You’re down in New Orleans
But that doesn’t change much about the way I see things
I’ll take the south bound
And meet you in between
There’s no destination except where the tracks lead
I can’t say what is waiting for you
At every stop
You blow my mind and change direction
The simple fact is I’ve fallen now so if you get off
I’m gonna wait here for you
I can’t get enough
It’s only a touch
But it’s breaking my heart
It’s tearing me up
Are you in, are you out
Are all of your doubts
Taking you further
And further away?
I can’t tell what is waiting for you
At every stop
You blow my mind and change direction
The simple fact is I’ve fallen now so if you get off
I’m going to wait here for…
I can’t say what is waiting for you
At every stop
You blow my mind and change direction
The simple fact is I’ve fallen now so if you get off
I’m going to wait here for you
To put it simply and cliché, he took my breath away. When the song was finished, I sat in silence, staring at Zac while the crowd around me erupted into cheers and claps. The boys stood and took a bow to even more applause, but Zac looked like he just wanted to take off running. Justine nudged me and I snapped out of my stunned silence enough to manage a little half-hearted clapping. When I looked over at her, she was giving me an I-told-you-so-look that made me feel like punching her in the face.
Finally the three Hanson boys made their way off stage and the MC took the microphone back, scooting it back to its intended position center stage. He started rambling on about who would be performing next, but my attention was still fixed on Zac, watching him shuffle to the counter where the drinks and refreshments were, his head down like a celebrity trying to avoid the paparazzi or a child hiding from the gaze of a disapproving parent. I wasn’t sure which was the more accurate interpretation.
It was then that I realized both Justine and Whitley were staring at me, imploring me to say or do anything. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Finally I stood, my legs shaking and feeling more like they contained jello than bones and muscles. I wove my way through the crowd, keeping my head up and searching for Zac’s shaggy head of hair that couldn’t be missed in even the largest of crowds.
“Zac!” I called out, but my voice barely carried over the sound of some jock trying to play Led Zeppelin on a cheap guitar.
He was still standing at the counter when I found him, looking like it was taking every ounce of strength he had to remain securely on his feet. The coffee cup he held trembled in his hand and I feared that he might drop it. He looked up at me just as I was about to reach out and touch his arm.
“Victoria…” he trailed off, then swallowed and began again, “Toria, hey. I saw you in the audience. I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad I did, too. You guys were amazing.”
He blushed and it might have been the cutest thing I had ever seen, the soft red creeping across his tan cheeks. Looking down at his coffee, he stuttered out, “Th-thanks.”
I reached my hand out and placed it on his, hoping to steady him a little. “I mean it.”
Finally Zac looked up at me, tentatively, his honey brown eyes half-obscured by his hair. I offered him a smile – a genuine smile, not one I was faking just to make him feel better, although I considered myself more accomplished at the latter. It wasn’t that I considered myself a liar, really. I wasn’t a liar. I just wasn’t accustomed to playing my own part.
“I’m glad you liked it. Until tonight, you were one of the only people who got to hear the songs I write. I don’t really like sharing my songs with anyone, though,” Zac said, then freed his hand from mine and gulped down a large swig of coffee.
He sat the coffee down on the counter and I snaked my hand onto his again. I bit my lip, unsure of how to proceed. “That song was…”
He nodded and I wanted to giggle at the way his hair shook when he did so. “I know,” he said, laughing nervously. “I know exactly what that song was, trust me.”
“One would hope so, Mr. Songwriter,” I replied, tapping my fingers against his hand.
At that, he finally managed to smile a little. “Can we take this conversation outside? Or at least downstairs. Just get me away from all these people, please.”
“You know, the stage fright should go away after you perform,” I said, poking him in the side. “But, alright. Let’s get out of here.”
I led him back by the table where Justine and Whitley had been seated, but where now only Justine remained. I paused and pointed at Whitley’s vacated seat but Justine only offered me a shrug. Assuming that was the only answer I was likely to get, I threw my jacket on and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I turned back around to Zac and laced my fingers into his. He offered me a small smile and lead the way out of the room and down the stairs.
We didn’t speak until we reached the first floor and Zac had lead me to a set of couches by the entrance to the building. He flopped onto one of the couches and seemed to truly relax for the first time all night, except perhaps a few seconds behind the drum set when he had escaped into the music and forgotten about the crowd. I slung my backpack into the floor and myself onto the couch next to him, throwing my legs across his like it was just second nature to be so intertwined with him. And it was. But after days of hardly speaking outside of what little it took to maintain a modicum of friendship, it felt strange to fall back into our old routine.
“When did you write that song?” I asked, hoping the question wasn’t too much, more than he would be willing to say.
He did not look up at me when he replied, “Last week.”
I didn’t need to say anything else and neither did he. We sat in the most comfortable silence possible, just enjoying each others’ company. The meaning of his words was not lost on me, of course. The song was about me. It had to be. As the moments stretched on, I began to inch my way closer to him, tangling my legs around his and placing my hand on his thigh. He leaned back against the back of the couch and wrapped his arm around me. I felt so comfortable with him that I could have fallen asleep. Then two voices came from down the corridor nearest us, somewhat soft but not sounding particularly happy.
“You need to talk to people about this,” the first voice said, and I struggled to place where I had heard it before.
The second voice was softer, sadder. “I know, I know. I’m just not sure how to make them understand… this isn’t really that simple.”
“You think I don’t know that?” The second voice countered. “But you need to talk to them, Taylor. Especially Whitley. Tell her the truth.”
It was too much of a coincidence. Zac and I both perked up when we heard those two names and sure enough, Taylor and Joseph stood just at the end of the hallway, not quite close enough to have seen us yet. Then I saw Whitley walked toward us all, and I wanted to slide down into the couch and pretend not to hear or see what would follow.
“Tell me what?”