Andy

“- Maybe she’d like this one better. It’s turquoise, like her birthstone.”

Stepping into the nice, air-conditioned souvenir shack on the pier, I spotted my parents and Grandma by the jewelry, examining a few different pieces.

“Hey.” I greeted, alerting them of my presence.

“Oh, Ash! You’re back early.” My Mom hurried and fumbled with the necklaces in her hands, discarding them awkwardly on the shelf.

“What’cha doing?” I peered around her, but her and my Father’s shoulder pressed together to keep what they were looking at a secret. I narrowed my eyes at them suspiciously. “Okay, you’re up to absolutely nothing...”

They nodded in confirmation. Andy stood beside me with a jaded look, narrowed eyes. “They’re definitely up to something.” He confirmed with a slow nod. “Your birthday is in December, right?”

“That’s right.” I confirmed, my parents already having returned to bickering under their breath about which one they thought I’d like better. I drifted away from the group, since I felt kinda bad for eavesdropping.

“Huh... You’ll be how old?”

“Seventeen...” I shrugged. “Ew. Then after that, eighteen, then college, trouble and issues to plague me for life.” Sighing, I made my way towards the collection of gawdy figurines. Cartoon seals holding different signs with cursive letters forming the names of different cities and places in California.

“The fact that people actually buy these things...” I picked up one of a seagull wearing swim trunks, turning it around in my hands.

“Hey.... I like the seagull.” Andy defended, snatching it from my hands to admire it himself.

“You can’t be serious.” I narrowed my eyes at him in amusement.

“I’m dead serious.” He replied without wavering. “I actually really like seagulls.”

“Any particular reason?...”

He ignored my question as he smiled fondly at the dorky hunk of sloppily painted ceramic.

“Alright...” I sighed, drifting away to explore more. I found a small rack of CD’s from the early 2000’s at the front of the store. Old CD’s no one really listened to anymore, like N-Sync, Backstreet Boys, an old Rihanna album and a lot of Avril Lavigne. I thumbed through the albums, a lot of the names familiar, but none really stood out to me.

Starting the third row of CD’s, I flipped through them until one in particular really caught my eye.

“Destination Beautiful...” I breathed the title, admiring the album art for a moment. A picture of a townhouse, photoshopped with a green and blue filter. “Mae.”

Picking up the album, I flipped it over, reading over the tracks a few times. None of them sounded familiar, which relieved me. I needed to try out some new music, something entirely and utterly new. Untainted or nudged in any direction because of a song I’d heard beforehand.

Holding onto that one, I searched more, flicking through album after album, the radio droning on in the background began to play a familiar song.

“Glass table top for two
Shatters across the room
It’s been this way,
It stays this way,
Since June.

Gravity pulls me in
Further from my skin.
I run but my feet don’t touch the ground.

If you’re letting go,
Let me go, slowly.
If you’re letting go,
Lay me down, softly.

Smoked out the back room,
To get rid of the scent of you...

The song, was called “Letting Go” By the band Mayday Parade. They weren’t my favorite band, but Elizabeth lent me their CD once, a while back... I smiled at the memory.

~~~


“Ash, check this album out!”

“Why?” I sighed, looking down at the strand of hair I was tying up in a messy braid.

“Because to be honest, your music scares me... Plus, I think you’d like them.”

“Fine, okay, who are they?”

“Mayday Parade. Ever heard of them?”

“I have.” I nodded, their name came up every now and again on the Warped Tour setlist, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what genre they were.

I looked up to watch her hop off her bed and cross her room to her dresser, where her CD player was, along with a nice mess of CD’s. She sifted through them and found the disc, then grabbed the case from the shelf above the desk, clicking the disc back into place, she slid it across her bedspread.

“Try them out.”

I narrowed my eyes at the cover art suspiciously. “What genre?”

“Does it matter? You listen to everything, anyways. Hey, I actually have to go to a dentist appointment here in an hour. Take it home, listen to it, and just bring it to school tomorrow. Okay?”

I hesitated before picking up the jewel case, turning it over in my hands thoughtfully. “Okay, sure. I’ll check it out.”

“I need to walk up to my Mom’s work in a few. I kinda spaced it out, sorry...”

“No problem.” I shook my head, turning over the case in my hands, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Unless I’m abducted by aliens between now and then.” She joked, grabbing her jacket and filling her backpack with things she’d need.

“Alright.” I stood up from the bed, stretching briefly, I slid the CD into my bag and pulled on my jacket. “See you tomorrow, then. Bye, Elizabeth.”

“Bye, Ash!”

~~~

Popping the disc into my CD player skeptically, I plugged in my headphones and pulled out my school text books and got to work on my homework while I listened. After the first couple songs, I finally let my guard down and enjoyed the music.

That’s the strange thing about me: I am really weird about getting into new bands and artists. If it’s something outside my comfort zone, I tend to avoid it for the most part, and listen to the same old 2000-2007 era albums over and over again, even though there was half a decade of new and amazing music to be heard and tried out.

Within another half hour, this new song played, opening with a nice acoustic intro. Smiling to myself, I listened to that song on loop a few times, then the album again before ripping it to my computer, making a mental note to thank Elizabeth in the morning when I saw her at school.

~~~

I took a deep, thoughtful breath, surprised by how much it saddened me that I didn’t hang around or talk to Elizabeth anymore. We were once inseparable, but despite all the time spent together, I never really felt like we knew each other. Of course, we knew the basics, but not the in-depth stuff that makes a relationship of gold.

Acquaintances.

That’s what we always were, I guess... Maybe I was just used to friends always coming and going around me. Either because they moved, or found a better group to hang with, or I did something a little too weird for their tastes and they moved on.

Maybe they were smart to do so, and I’m insane. It’s a possibility, and as much as I embrace my weirdness, it would still be nice, from time to time, to experience true friendship. Have someone to have nights out with, and talk to through college years.

An All American Rejects song took the place of the Mayday Parade one, and I broke out of my day-dream daze, and gathered the small stack of albums I found, and went to find my parents. Andy joined up with me shortly after. His gaze lingered on my Grandmother’s frail face, his eyebrows cinching together in concentration, I nudged his ribs and narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him.

“You’re doing it again.” I accused. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” he replied innocently, shaking his head. “It’s really nothing, please drop it.” He walked away from me, leaving me stunned. I almost called after him, stopping myself just in time.

“What’s up with him?” I murmured, shaking my head, I went to the register to check out. While I waited, I looked around myself at the small store. Sea shells hung in a criss-crossed gartland across the ceiling, with small white Christmas lights. Tiki decorations left to fade in the front windows of the shop with an old clearance sign. The neon cardstock fading to a soft pastel shade of it’s former color.

Handing the cashier a ten dollar bill, I watched as she slid the three albums into a small, dark blue plastic sack, handing it to me with a fake smile. “Have a nice day.” She told me with a rehearsed tone, like she said it dozens of times a day. Nodding and returning the kind words, I made my way outside of the shop to wait, lingering in the cool shadows in front of the glass windows.

There was a lot to process, and I had no idea where to begin. However, there was one thing that concerned me greatly... Andy’s shady glances at my Grandmother. I wouldn’t bring it up to him again, because it only seemed to upset and frustrate him. I couldn’t put my finger on it... What it was about him looking at her. His eyes would narrow in concentration, like he was trying to see something that wasn’t there. Was there more to him than he let on?... There was a great possibility of that, I mean, he hasn’t told me half the things about being a ghost, it’d be easy for him to keep secrets.

Did he have some sort of weird, healing power? Glaring at my ill Grandmother would heal her?

I wanted to ask him again, for a detailed description of why he stared in deep thought, but I didn’t know how to bring it up again without making it obvious that I doubted him telling the truth about it being ‘nothing’.

I sat down on the edge of the wood planking that formed a small deck above the miles of endless sand, and rummaged around in the shopping bag, pulling out Destination Beautiful again to study the album art before carefully picking at the plastic protective sleeve around the jewel case, peeling off the stickers that were holding the album together. Snapping open the case, I was greeted with the eye-candy concept art that was quite similar to that on the cover and back. Blue, green and turquoise scenes of different places, bleached through what looked like a decent Snapchat filter.

Touching the smooth disc, turning it to the left slightly so it was straight, label upright. I smiled in private happiness as I enjoyed the moment I had every time I bought a new CD. The reveal of the inner art, the sweet smell of freshly printed paper, which for some reason, was distinct to only album booklets, and the glimmer of light off the top of the disc. It was like a music lover’s high. And then, to top it off, you put on your headphones, drowned out the world as you listened to the album backwards and forwards, reading the lyrics from the booklet as you went, familiarizing yourself with choruses and verses, humming the rhythm when it became familiar enough.

I fiddled with the edge of the paper booklet carefully for a few moments, trying to separate it from the front of the jewel case without ripping it. Once I’d gotten up the bottom page, I slid it out, flipping open the cover page, looking over each page fondly, reading sections of lyrics throughout the booklet. Verses, the chorus to the fourth song, looking at the few pictures of the band inside, also colored the same way as the rest of the album artwork was.

The more time I spent looking over the album, getting pumped to listen to it, the more my worries took backseat for a bit. My constant stress and anxiety shutting the hell up for a moment while I looked over the artwork inside the book. The frustration and concern Andy had disposed on me going along with it for a solid seven minutes before the shop’s door bell jingled, and my family walked out, laughing, pushing my Grandmother’s wheelchair.

I regrouped with Andy, who lingered behind them a bit.

“Didn’t you get the seagull?” I wondered when I noticed his hands empty, and his clothes lacked pockets big enough to conceal it.

“Pshh, no.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Because stealing is highly frowned upon, especially when you’re a ghost.”

I was relieved when he smiled, because it cleared the clouds. His brilliant, inhumanly blue eyes that were substantially darker than any of his family photos depicted, shimmered in the blinding sunlight. I was hopeful that he wasn’t mad at me or holding grudges.

“Where else are we going?” I asked my parents in a weak effort to remain apart of their conversation.

“Back to your Grandmothers, we think.” My Dad looked to my mother for confirmation. “We’ll take a break for a bit, maybe go see a movie later or something, then go out to dinner. Today is kind of our ‘free day’.”

Nodding, I let that set in, and had an idea. “Want to walk in the gardens when we get back? I’ve never been in a garden like that, but I always wished my parents had one like that. Especially when I was younger, all I wanted in the world, was not a pony, surprisingly, but a fantasy garden, with ponds, fish, bridges, the whole bit.”

“Really?” Andy echoed in surprise. “You don’t seem like the kind of person to be into fantasy things. You always seem to be living in the present.”

“Yet...” I drawed out, “I’m friends with you, a mythical creature.”

“Creature.” He scoffed, “You could sell me to the Smithsonian, make millions and retire at twenty. Why keep me around?”

An awkward pause came. “Do you want a joking reply or a real one?...” I hedged sheepishly, unsure what he was hedging towards. Instead of answering my question about his, he laughed. “Nevermind, don’t worry about it. Anyways, you wouldn’t have much luck getting me to willingly stay at a museum. You’d get the money, I could up and disappear, and we could spend the millions together. Sounds like a good plan.”

“Sounds like a good way to end up in jail.” I replied.

“Always thinking logically.” He laughed, looking straight ahead.

“Oh... Sorry.” I wrung my hands together awkwardly again, the conversation veering off again into a place it could not be recovered.

“Why? There’s nothing to be sorry about.... Please don’t tell me that when you were in school, you were always one of those kids who apologized for being themselves.” He narrowed his eyes at me, cutting blue irises demanding an answer I knew too well. I dropped my eyes immediately in embarrassment and sadness.

“I’m not, and never was, the kid ‘with all the answers’. The one who always knew how to act to makes friends and get people to like them, the one who always knew what to say. People would look at me weird if I even used an outdated term like ‘dude’ while working on group projects.” I took a deep breath and sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth pursuing. “Anyways, it’s not like I’ll ever see those kids again anyways, not if everything goes as planned.” I shrugged, dropping the uncomfortable topic.

Andy could say all he wanted about always being the outcast and being weird, but the thing is, he always has the right words, the right expression. He knows when to smile and when to frown, which makes him far more approachable and social than I could ever dream, and that was the difference between us.

Notes

Shoutouts!

- anathema
- blackveilkitty
- DarkQueen