Lost, p.18
Lost, page 18
Adam Dunlevey grinned and greeted them both like the old friends that they were. When was the last time that they had seen him? It had been a few years at least. Four or five, if Zack remembered correctly, though the tour seemed an age ago.
“It’s been too long,” Adam said, echoing Zack’s own thoughts. “Heard you’re both of you fathers now. Congratulations.”
Zack smiled in acknowledgement, glancing over his shoulder at his son. Lysander had settled himself at the little table in the corner, where he proceeded to ignore Chris’s labelling him a nerd as he spread his school books out in front of him. He hadn’t been kidding about spending the day doing homework. On the one hand, Zack was pleased by the boy’s dedication to his school work. On the other, he wished his son would have shown a little more interest in the day he was getting to spend in the studio.
He tried to ignore the thought that Dakota would have appreciated the opportunity.
Pat noticed the shift in him. With a slight incline of his head he was gesturing for Zack to step outside with him.
“Everything all right, man? Something happen between you and your kid?”
“Little misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about.”
Pat raised a single eyebrow, the silent demand for more information all too obvious.
“He didn’t want to come here today. He’s a little pissed at me because I made him, I think.”
“So why’d you make him?”
“I was worried.”
There was a knowing look on Pat’s face.
“Worried. About leaving him alone.”
“Yes.”
“You think he’d do something stupid if he had the chance?”
Zack didn’t want to think about it. Lysander had been through a lot — losing his mother, moving interstate, having to leave his lifelong friends behind, burying his sister — and Zack had known people who had cracked under far less.
“I don’t know. But I think it’s better not to risk it.”
Pat nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you’re in the recording booth.”
They were simple words, but they took a weight off his shoulders that he had not realised was there in the first place. Pat had always been the sort of person that he could count on, and this was only more proof of that.
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing,” Pat assured him. “Kid’s family. It’s my job to look out for him.”
Lysander was already hard at work on his Physics homework when Zack and Pat came back inside, and that was where Zack reluctantly left him when Axwell declared that it was time to start the day’s work. The two of them plus Brendan made their way into the studio itself, needing to polish up some of the guitar work they’d been recording earlier in the week. Once they were done it was Pat and Adam who would be doing most of the work. The weekend was all about getting the vocals for this song done, while Adam could spare the time.
Zack stepped into the booth, guitar in hand, and breathed out through his nose. This was something that he lived for — these moments when those countless hours of practising were finally paying off, where he was recording music that all the world would hear. It wasn’t as exciting as being up on stage, but it was certainly as exhilarating. This was a room where magic was made.
“Whenever you’re ready, Zack.”
He pulled his headphones on. Straightened his guitar. Double-checked his tuning and connections. Only once he was certain that everything was perfect did he give Axwell the signal to go ahead. And then he was playing.
The solo had been giving him trouble over the past week. It was one of Brendan’s more intricate pieces of work, and Zack’s fingers just did not agree with it. But today would be the day he got it right. On the bright side, he wasn’t the only one having issues with the song. Brendan still wasn’t happy with a couple of the recordings he had done for the verses, and neither of them wanted Adam to hear the song until it was perfect.
“That was great!” Axwell called through his microphone. He grinned at Zack from outside the recording booth, giving him two thumbs up.
“Play it back for me,” Zack said. He couldn’t just take the man’s word for it — he needed to hear it for himself. “From the top.”
He listened carefully, alert for even the tiniest detail that he wouldn’t like. On the other side of the glass he could see Brendan listening too, eyes closed and foot tapping along to the beat. He watched his friend while the music filled both of their ears. He could always trust Brendan to give an honest opinion.
He got another two thumbs up.
He left the recording booth satisfied, trading places with Brendan so the lead guitarist could perfect what the rest of the band swore had already been perfected. But there was always something better in Brendan’s eyes. Always something that could be added to make the song just that little bit more. And he had never been wrong, so they had come to know better than to argue with him. They simply let him do what he felt he must and were better off for it.
The changes he made were tiny, but they did indeed make all the difference.
By the time Pat and Adam were ready to start recording their vocals, Brendan had finally deemed the instrumental track complete. It played on Zack’s mind as he returned to the tiny kitchen, leaving a broad grin on his face. Every time he thought things couldn’t get any better with this album, they did. He couldn’t help the constant thought that the band’s fans would be in for a real treat this year.
Lysander hadn’t moved in the time that it had taken Zack and Brendan to finish their portion of the recording. He was still doing homework, still flipping through the same textbook, and still looking irritated. Zack sat down opposite the boy.
Chris nudged him. “Your kid’s a nerd.”
“We’ve been through this,” Lysander replied, not bothering to look up. “Just because I’m smarter than you does not make me a nerd.”
Zack took the beer that Brendan offered him with a nod of thanks.
And then he was alone with Lysander while Brendan, Chris and Aaron made their way into the studio to listen to Pat and Adam sing. The boy wasn’t showing any signs of moving so neither, decidedly, was the father.
He fixed his eyes on the textbook between them. Physics had never been one of Zack’s strong points.
“You like science?”
Lysander shrugged. “Do you care?”
His tone was clipped, dismissive. Zack sighed and set his beer down.
“Have you ever known anybody who killed themselves?”
Lysander looked up, mild surprise marring his features, but didn’t answer.
“It’s true when they say that it’s unexpected,” Zack said. “I’ve had friends who were as happy as anything one night and then dead the next morning, because a mood can change faster than you can run. So when I said this morning that I’d rest easier if I knew you weren’t alone, I was just worried that your mood might shift to the point that you couldn’t help it. It happens to the best of people. I didn’t want it to happen to you.”
“It won’t.”
“You’ve been through a lot, kid.”
“But I’m okay,” Lysander cut in before Zack could say anymore. “I have my friends, and I have family watching out for me. I know that even when I’m alone. And it keeps me sane.”
Zack considered him. He knew, without a doubt, that he still wouldn’t be leaving Lysander alone for a long while. But these words were enough to put him a little more at ease, to restore his faith in the boy to a degree that should an emergency crop up, Lysander would be fine on his own for a time.
“I can’t promise not to be paranoid,” he told the boy, “but I’ll do my best.”
Lysander shrugged. It was good enough for him.
“Come on,” the boy said, standing as he pushed his books further away from himself. He still wasn’t happy, but he at least sounded friendlier. “I know you’d rather be in there than out here. So maybe you can teach me a thing or two about what you guys do in the studio.”
Zack knew it was an olive branch. He grasped it with both hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brendan’s father’s house was spectacular with its marbled floors and its gold-trimmed staircase. Lysander couldn’t stop staring as Zack and Georgia led him through it. It held crystal chandeliers, a kitchen fit for a two-page spread in the most exclusive of magazines, and a wide, open entertaining area that put Lysander’s old living room in Wisconsin to shame.
But most importantly, the house contained friends.
Just through the back door, Lysander could see Zack’s group: the band, their significant others, and a few other faces that he had glimpsed on various occasions. But as much as Lysander had come to enjoy the company of these people, he had known from the start that he didn’t want to be the only kid hanging around among a group of adults. He’d told his father as much when Zack had informed him he was being dragged along. And that was why he was glad she was here.
“Lysander!”
Marina had engulfed him before he had even seen her coming. All the colours of her rainbow hair ended up in his face while her perfume washed over him, filling him with the scent that had become familiar even from their single meeting all those weeks ago. She smiled brightly when she pulled back to look at him, clearly as glad to see him as he was her.
“Hey, Marina. It’s been a while.”
They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, but they’d kept in touch via text after their last meeting. It was funny, Lysander thought, that even though she’d been grounded she had still been granted access to her cell phone and her laptop — the former because her father wouldn’t have her without it in case of emergency, the latter because the Internet was basically mandatory for people who wanted to get any schoolwork done these days. The only thing her grounding had really limited had been how often she could see her friends.
Now that she was no longer under house arrest, she was constantly making plans that enabled her to get out of the house. Today’s itinerary consisted of her own band members, a couple of other friends she went to college with, and the beach. Lysander had readily agreed when she’d asked if he wanted to tag along. He was all for making new friends his own age.
“Make sure you stay out of trouble,” was Zack’s choice of farewell as he gave Lysander a quick one-armed hug. “I’ll see you tonight, kid.”
“See ya. Have fun.”
Zack and Georgia headed outside to join the rest of their crowd, while Lysander followed Marina into the stylish kitchen of her home. She carried a backpack with her, and it wasn’t long before Lysander deduced what the thing was for: he watched her shove in bags of crisps and packets of candy, as many as she could fit before adding a couple of water bottles to the stash. She caught his eye as she tugged the zipper closed.
“You ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said. He took the bag and slung it over his own shoulder before she could protest. “Lead the way, Harmon.”
The journey to the beach was quick and easy, and Marina spent the majority of the walk trying to get Lysander up to speed on the people that he was about to meet. When he had first arrived in California he had been at a slight advantage — Zack and his band were all over the Internet and in music magazines, so he had already known their names, known their faces, and in a way felt that he’d known them. But there was no such luck with Marina’s friends. They weren’t known to the public. He was being thrown into the deep end, and for the first time he really felt it. He attempted to brace himself.
But there was no need. It was like walking into a classroom for the first time, being faced with nothing more than a group of kids he wasn’t familiar with — and one, surprisingly, that he was certain he was. A couple of them resembled Marina in the sense that they had bizarrely coloured hair, but other than that they just looked like regular, California natives out for a day on the beach. He could deal with this.
“They don’t bite,” Marina assured him as they approached. “...well. Actually, they do. But I promise they won’t bite you.”
It was just like being back in Columbus, except that these were Marina’s friends and not his. They greeted her brightly, save for a dark-haired boy who only nodded her way, and listened intently as she introduced Lysander to them. Not as Zack’s son, but as Lysander Maverick. Better yet, they already knew who his father was, and none of them seemed to care. Here he was among people where he could just be himself, and it felt better than he had expected.
“It’s good to meet you,” a brunette called Stacey said to him. “Any friend of Marina’s is an instant friend of ours!”
He didn’t doubt her for a moment after she pulled him into a rib-crushing hug and ruffled his already messy hair, grinning the whole time. The rest of her gang were less forward, but no less inviting, and Lysander found himself accepted within minutes. He smiled at each of them in turn as they introduced themselves, shaking a couple of hands along the way, before finally settling into the sand beside the one girl aside from Marina that he had recognised. She, at least, seemed to know who he was already.
“Hey,” she greeted him lightly. “We go to the same school, right? I think I’ve seen you in the halls between classes.”
School. Of course that was where he knew her from. Lysander nodded, holding out his hand to her. With a tiny smile she shook it. Her eyes were a deep, dark green that he previously wouldn’t have thought possible and her hair, slightly curled towards the end, was only a couple of shades darker than his own, though it lent more towards brown than blonde.
“Lysander,” he told her, though she must have heard his name a million times already. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know yours.”
“It’s Loralie.”
Now that he’d heard it, he didn’t know how he could ever have forgotten it in the first place.
“So how do you know Marina?”
“My sister’s in her band,” Loralie replied, nodding in the direction of a girl who shared her hair colour. Gretchen, her name was. “And they’ve been friends since middle school, so I’ve known Marina for a while. How ‘bout you?”
“Family friend. I’ve only known her a couple of weeks, though.”
“Right,” she said. “I almost forgot. You only just moved here. Ohio, right? Somebody said you were from Columbus.”
“Wisconsin,” he corrected her. “I’m from Columbus, Wisconsin.”
“Oh, no way. I have family in Beaver Dam. I spent a lot of summers up there.”
This took Lysander by surprise. In all his time in California, he had never known anybody who had actually been in the areas around his home town — not counting Zack’s band, who had passed through in order to play shows.
“I guess I should have realised you were from Cheeseville,” she went on with a grin. “Even people in Ohio would know how to dress for the beach better than you do.”
Lysander looked down at himself. Girls were fine, he thought — when it came to the beach, they either opted for bikinis or a full-piece suit. He had assumed that guys were just as easy — a pair of shorts that could go into the water, and a shirt to be discarded easily, but it seemed he was wrong. While the shorts that he wore could be worn for almost any occasion, the boys in this group were wearing those specifically designed for the beach; he had opted to wear a plain white t-shirt that he could easily peel off and leave in the sand, but the other guys hadn’t bothered bringing shirts at all.
There was also the matter of every person around him — even those not a part of the immediate group — wearing flip-flops. Lysander hated the things. They were uncomfortable, and he had never had use for them in Columbus. But now that he was sitting on the beach in a pair of sneakers, feeling more and more sand seep in, he was starting to wonder if maybe they wouldn’t have been such a bad idea after all.
“Guess I should have asked somebody for some fashion advice this morning,” he said sheepishly. “Ah well. Better luck next time, I guess.”
“Next time you can just give me a call and I’ll sort you out. Fashion’s my forte.”
Loralie certainly did look like the sort of girl you might find between the pages of a magazine, with her sun-kissed skin and her perfectly smooth legs. If he’d had a camera, he might have been able to take a shot of her in her bikini and the huge sunglasses that sat atop her head and pass it off as an advertisement of some sort.
He stopped examining her body the moment he became conscious of the fact that he was doing it. Eliza Beth would not have approved.
She offered him a drink from the cooler that sat half buried in the sand, and he took it gratefully. Not even midday and it was already shaping up to be a particularly warm day — but then, every day in California seemed warm to him, and with summer coming he knew there would be no relief in sight. Snowy winters were not the only thing that he was going to be missing, that was for sure.
“So are you a musician, too?” Loralie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Everybody in this gang is, except me. So tell me I’m not the only loser.”
“You’re not,” Lysander assured her. “Music and I don’t really get along. My sister tried to teach me to play the piano once, but it didn’t go so well.”
“I hear ya. My sister wanted me to learn the guitar when we were younger, so she’d have somebody to jam with. But my fingers were never able to hold the chords properly.”
“You could have if you’d practised more!” her sister called her way.
“Whatever.” Loralie brushed the comment off with a wave of her hand. “I have more important things to do with my time. Like get a killer tan.”
The matter was pushed no further, though it did set Marina and her band to the task of discussing their next show. It was like spending a day in the studio with Needless Desires all over again — with talk of music involving terms that everybody except Lysander seemed to understand. Only this time, he wasn’t the only outsider. Loralie looked towards the group with the same sort of confusion before simply shrugging them off and lying back on her towel.
