Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 02

At least the burgers will be good, she thought. She had to admit her dad was a grill master par excellence. He had honed his skills for tailgating parties.

Settling into a seat on the patio for the gresh air, she tried to relax. Pieces of conversation floated to her, and it wasn't long before she felt herself tensing up.

"Yeah," said her father, "I think JT'll go for the draft next summer. I mean, why the hell should he wait? He's on pace to set the school record for tackles in a season. It'd be crazy for him not to enter."

"How about Evan?" someone asked.

"He'll be a starter, you watch." Her father's pride was undisguised. "Even as a freshman. They're nuts if they don't start him."

"Hi, Ryan."

She looked up and smiled. "Hi, Uncle Pete. How are you?"

"Great. How's everything going?"

"Oh, pretty good, thanks."

"Keeping yourself busy?" Her uncle asked.

Before Ryan could answer, her father did.

"Ryan still thinks she's going to be a rock star." He flipped the burgers.

Ryan ground her teeth and felt herself flush. The derisive tone rivaled the pride with which he'd spoken of Evan and JT. She kept telling herself she was used to it, and someday, she would be.

Her father continued, "Her mother and I keep hoping she'll grow out of it and get a real job. She could do more than the drone work she's doing now." He shot a wry glance at Ryan. "Don't think JT or Evan is going to support you once they've been drafted."

Ryan struggled for something to say. "It's not like that," she managed. "We work hard."

Her father shot her a sidewise glance, his disdain evident. "If you think that's work, little girl, then your mother and I did something wrong."

Ryan excused herself through gritted teeth and went back in the house. She had to leave; her dad had pushed too far this time and she couldn't pretend in front of all these people. She made a beeline for the guest room that held the coats.

"Ryan. Hey, Ry!" Evan found her as she was grabbing her jacket. "What's up? We haven't even had the cake yet."

"I'm sorry, Ev. I was going to find you and say goodbye. Dad pissed me off. Again." She shoved her arms into the sleeves. "I know I should be used to it, just let it roll off me or whatever, but it was too much. Too far. I am fucking sick of him making me feel like a failure because I don't chase a goddamned ball around a field." She stopped and took a breath. "Sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you."

"It's okay." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry he makes you feel that way."

"Not your fault." She took another deep breath and tried to relax her shoulders. "Look, I'll just tell Mom I don't feel well. I don't want to cause a scene and ruin your party."

"Why would you ruin the party?" JT poked his head in and Ryan groaned to herself.

"I wouldn't. That's why I'm going." Ryan grabbed her bag.

"Oh, come on. Is this about what Dad said on the porch?" JT rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Ryan, he's only being honest."

"Gee, thanks, JT." She glared at him. "When Dad insults your life choices, I'll remind you that you said that."

"Maybe if you made better choices he wouldn't say anything. Christ, Ryan, listen to yourself. You want to be in a band? Every kid in fucking high school wants to be in a band at some point." JT made a face. "Dad knows you won't make it, so why should he pretend?"

"JT, back off." Evan's eyes darted between his siblings. "All kinds of people make it in music. Who's to say Ryan won't?"

JT scoffed and shook his head.

"Well, I guess that settles it." Ryan's voice was rough. "Happy Birthday, Evan. I'll talk to you later." She gave Evan a quick hug but said nothing to JT as she pushed past him and down the hall.

Her mother was surprised but distracted when Ryan said she was leaving and only made a token effort to convince her to stay. As she got in the car, Ryan thought that would have hurt, had she not already been so upset by her father's and brother's statements. She calmed herself down as she drove out of the development, not wanting to be distracted on the highway.

Lara was still out when she got home. Ryan was a little disappointed—she'd been looking forward to venting over ice cream—but decided that some quiet time alone to read or work on a song would do more good. Not to mention, they were out of ice cream.

Knowing she couldn't work as tense as she was, she first set iTunes going and then grabbed a drink and sat on the couch. Arcade Fire segued into Radiohead and she started to relax as she let the songs play, not thinking, just listening. When her cell phone rang, she jerked in surprise and had to orient herself.

She looked at the display, surprised to see Brody's name.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ryan. It's Brody. What's up?"

"Not much." She sat up on the couch. "Where are you?"

"I'm hurt. I thought you knew the schedule inside and out." He sounded so aggrieved she had to laugh.

"Sorry, Brody. Family stuff today. Did you play already? I'm sorry if I missed it."

"Nah. You've got some time. Starts at seven."

"Okay, but where are you?" Ryan looked at her watch; it was just after five.

"Toronto."

"Lucky you."

"Yeah, well. What can I say? I'm a lucky guy. So, how was the family stuff?"

"It sucked." Ryan didn't try to downplay it.

"Ouch. Sounds like someone needs some sushi."

She had to give a small laugh at that. "Maybe. Or there's always macaroni and cheese." It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten much of anything since breakfast and had only snacked at the party.

"Ryan, don't say that. I can't be distracted worrying about you like that."

"You worry about me?" She was surprised.

"I worry about anyone who treats mac'n'cheese like it's its own food group."

"I'll have a hot dog with it," she offered.

"No."

"Spam?"

He made a strangled noise.

"Sorry." She giggled. "I don't know. I was so mad that I ended up not eating, and I'm not hungry yet, but I'm sure I'll be hungry soon. How about I promise to eat something that doesn't come in a box?"

"I'd feel much better."

"Okay then, I'll do that. You'd better go. Don't you have warmups or something?"

"Yeah, pretty soon. I just wanted to say hi to my favorite musician."

"Thanks, Brody." Ryan smiled at the warm feeling the comment elicited. "After the day I had, that's a really nice thing to hear. If you were here, I might even let you kiss me."

Brody was silent for a moment. "You shouldn't tease me like that, Ryan."

She bit her lip as a nervous excitement shot through her, then grinned. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

"You'll just have to wait to find out."

She wondered if she imagined his voice was a little deeper than usual. "Vague threats don't scare me, Brody."

"Who said anything about vague?" He paused and Ryan felt that same combination of nerves and anticipation. "Fine, be that way. See if I cook for you again." He paused again, then relented. "Get some healthy food and then watch the game, okay?"

"Yes, sir." She laughed. "Good luck."

"Thanks. Talk to you later."

Ryan smiled again as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She was still tense, but the phone call had gone a long way towards helping her shake off what had happened at the party. Favorite musician, he'd said, and she shook her head as she got up and wandered to the kitchen. He'd said it for fun, but it had been nice to hear anyway.

In fact, she realized, she felt like working on some music. She glanced at her phone and saw that she still had an hour and a half before the game. She could work on something, then grab some dinner, then watch the game.

She went over to her computer to sort through her works in progress and see what grabbed her attention. The second song did. She listened to what she had so far and then moved over to the keyboard. In the middle of fiddling with that song, another melody came into her head and she decided to work on that and switched to her guitar. She paid no attention to anything else until a thud from upstairs made her look up and blink, then she checked the time.

"Oh, man. They're probably halfway through the first period." She got up, stretched, and turned on the television.

With the game in the background, she started searching through the kitchen for something to eat. Hunger came at her with a vengeance and she bought time with some juice. Nothing looked appealing and so she grabbed a take-out menu. Chinese food didn't come in boxes, exactly, she thought. Boxes were squares or rectangles; those cartons were more like trapezoids.