you're still my everything

It has been a couple of years since that first soft and wonderful kiss between Josh and me.

We haven’t kissed since that last time, after I played Csárdás for him with my double bass and my new original compositions.

I felt a bit flustered after everything that had just happened with my audition, as I had just gotten back, when I remembered a conversation between Josh and me in middle school. We were at his house.

“You still want to join that one orchestra you told me about?” He asked me.

“Yeah, I do. But, I don’t know if I will ever get the chance to live in California. I will try to get my classical education here in Washington and then apply.”

“Is it legitimate?” He eyed the double bass. “You think you could be apprenticed there?”

“Well, I researched them a little in the library and the LA Philharmonic is very innovative. I love the idea of living in a sunny, cheerful place playing music in a professional environment.” I paused. “If I could apprentice there, I would need to find a good job to support myself first.”

He leaned back into the cushion of the couch, stretching his arms above his head. “I have always noticed how you loved that instrument.” He eyed me softly. “You take very good care of it. I’ve seen you polish it during lunch sometimes.” He noted, and he was right, I often polished my double bass during lunch.

“Only you would notice that, Josh.” I teased him. “You are very observant, you know that?” I went on, teasing him. He had said the same of me, and I was mirroring it on purpose.

He remembered. “You know who is a panic and a half?” He said in a blatantly garish manner, that made me laugh.

I blew a raspberry at him.

“You are.” He continued. “Especially when you blow up about the Reds.” He deadpanned.

“You are too much, Josh.” I laughed again. “You try to be funny, but you fail over and over again.”

“Then why are ya laughing?”

“’Cause you’re corny as heck.”

He eyed me suspiciously, “And who was the original guy who said the line in the first place?”

“I don’t deny it. But I do think it was funnier when I said it. And our elementary principal was crazy. He’d go on such long-winded speeches about the ‘scary’ Commies,” I leaned back into the couch and relaxed. For some reason, it seemed like when I moved slightly, we got closer to each other, and our legs were touching. I didn’t really mind, as I remember, but something interesting to note was that I thought Josh scooted in closer toward me while I wasn’t looking.

“Yeah, he was a riot! I wondered why he’d go on for so long sometimes, like, was that even allowed in school hours?...” Josh laughed. “But, you really know how to prick at a guy’s ego, don’t you?” He laughed as he spoke.

“I do my best,” I said. He looked at my instrument across the room, and then looked thoughtfully back at me.

“You know Spokane has a symphony orchestra, right, Ben?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know. But as I’ve told you many times, I have lived here all my life, and I want to get away and be on my own and live my life the way I know it needs to be lived.” I chuckled. “I might audition to see if I can get in after high school, just for kicks.”

He laughed softly. “I never have played an instrument before.” He said suddenly.

“Want to learn how?” I offered.

He grinned. “No. I’m okay. I’ll probably break it or something, I’m musically inept, as you know.”

“Come on! You won’t break it or anything. I’ll show you.” I leaned over toward his face in an obnoxious fashion. “I won’t judge you.”

He scoffed lightly. “Well, I am sure glad of that, sir.”

I just looked at him with this sad, innocent look. He laughed slightly.

“Okay! Okay. Show me.”

I went to go get it and gently placed it in between us.

“From all that I have learned and read about music, which is a lot,” I teased and he shook his head at me, “You first need to first familiarize yourself with the instrument.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at it, get a feel for it.” I handed the contrabass (double bass) over to him. “See the strings, they go from the thinnest,” I took his hand and placed it on the first string, “To the thickest. There are only four gut strings, here, and the thinnest is G, and from there it is D, A and E.”

He nodded and looked at the strings, and he was very quiet. I took his hand and let him pluck each string as I told him about the notes.

“There is also a five-string bass, but I like it simpler like this one. Beggars can’t be choosers anyway, my family bought it for me for Christmas years ago.” I said and let go of his hand. “There are no frets on a double bass, so to hit the right note, you kind of have to just fun around with it until you get the right sound.”

He laughed. “Fun around with it?”

“Shut up.” I said simply. He just laughed again, and then quieted down when I looked at him sorely.

“What is a fret?”

“It’s like a series of ridges on the fingerboard of stringed instruments, used for fixing the positions of the fingers to produce the desired notes. It is more of a guide, really, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah it does.”

“Anyway, I am not letting you use my bow, since you are just starting out, so you can pluck the strings and get a feel for it.”

He looked at me imploringly and just shrugged.

He ran his finger through all four in a row.

“I am not musically inclined, Ben, you know that. I am a reader.”

I laughed. “I can see that.” I pointed all around at the massive stacks of books everywhere. His dad kept stacks of things all over their place.

We looked around the living room and both laughed out loud.

It was in the moment, I guess, that made it so funny. I sighed thinking of the old memory, and everything else between us, being eighteen now and graduated high school.

Over the last year, I had found a girlfriend, which had torn a bit of a rift between Josh and I, in the sense that we are still friends, but—even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to hold hands and kiss now. Well, we stopped anyway—-that last time—after I played for him the original piece that I wrote in that beautiful black music notebook(Josh gave it me). It all kind of fell apart. Not because we didn’t want it, but because it just wasn’t the way society, or my family especially, would want it.

She was this very outspoken, beautiful Mexican Italian girl who liked to joke, dance and slide down banisters. And she played in my band class since middle school.

She knew Josh, too, and sometimes we all hung out together.

Marisol Thalia-Rose Castilo found me, and found her seat next to me in class when she came from her home in Texas to settle here in Washington. Still awkward and a bit flustered near people even in middle school, I didn’t have much to say, but she joked around with me, making the best impressions of people. She would make me laugh.

Especially of our band teacher, whom I despised. She was hard on me for some reason, and any time I played for an audition for a solo, she’d have lots of notes for me. Particularly, negative ones. She’d call me mediocre. I’d tell her in return that one day I’ll play the first chair in a real orchestra, and she’d smirk, saying, “Good luck.”

Marisol would mock her to make me feel better and call our band teacher a, “Lonely spinster with an overactive complaining gland,” and I’d say she was entirely accurate.

The first time we kissed, she kissed me.

I found her to be incredibly attractive, yet, my heart yearned for Josh.

Josh listened to me; Marisol listened to herself.

Josh cared about my feelings, and what I dreamed of, and what I wanted in life. He was so thoughtful about everything he said and did, and he made sure that the things he did for me were what I would really appreciate. And I, for him.

Marisol wanted to have fun, play games, kiss and fool around, slide down extremely tall banisters(I fell down hard that one time we slid down an old banister at church), and party.

The one thing we had in common was band class. She played the flute.

Even as I know Josh is coming over now, and not Marisol, my heart is pounding.

So much left unsaid, yet Josh is still my best friend.

That day, the last day we held each other, and the last day we kissed, in our first year of high school—-I was never so happy.

I wanted to be with him, all of him, forever.

I still do.

But, the way my life was going—-the way this horrible day was going, I was not meant to have anything I truly wanted.

I auditioned today for the Spokane Orchestra.

And I failed. Why?

They all told me the same thing that my middle school band teacher said.

“Mediocre.”

I tried so hard... I literally gave it my absolute best, and yet, here I am. A failure.

Josh didn’t know the news yet. Marisol and I had an argument earlier today, and I hadn’t seen her since.

It was about college.

She wanted to go somewhere far away, like South Carolina for university. I wanted to go stay here until I could graduate and head to LA to audition for their orchestra there.

Josh also wanted to stay here for college. He was going to be a professor of literature, or history. Marisol wanted to be a food scientist.

Marisol is way too smart for you, Al, my younger brother would say. And usually I would shrug, but... the last time Al said it, I agreed. I remember the look of surprise on his face, and then of course, he’d laugh.

Sometimes, the conversation between Marisol and I would go nowhere, and I’d feel dumb for even trying to pitch in my say.

I made a decision just then, right before Josh came over.

I was going to break up with her.

I cared for her, and I loved her. I just knew though that we were not right for one another.

Josh arrived, and he said immediately, “Hey! Mr. Musician! I got something for ya!”

“Don’t tell me it’s a real horse hair bow!” I threw back.

Josh rolled his eyes. “No. And you better still have that one I got you two years ago! Jerk!”

I sighed. “Of course. I still use it. It’s great for my double bass.”

“So,” Josh sat down, holding a gift bag, sitting back. “How’d it go, Ben? You look miserable. And tired.”

I nodded, feeling like I can finally breathe and feel how I want to feel. No more posturing. No more jokes.

“It went horrible, Josh. I failed. So bad. They hated me. They thought I was mediocre, and drab. I read the notes on me.” I covered my face, and turned back to him. “Worse of all, if I can’t even make it here.... in Spokane, then how can I expect to do something big like the LA Philharmonic?”

I felt Josh’s hand on my shoulder and I turned slightly. Our eyes met, and I felt my cheeks flush.

“Ben, what exactly did they say was wrong about the audition?”

“Well, it was a blind audition between me and other candidates. They didn’t see me. I played one my favorite songs, Valse-Scherzo by Tchaikovsky, and they said that in a technical sense, I couldn’t keep up with the parts... the really fast parts marked in Allegro. They said ultimately they didn’t think I could keep up with soloists and other parts of the group.” I sighed. “I had my resume. They noted that I was never in private lessons... you know my family couldn’t afford them. Heck, they could barely afford this double bass without getting it second hand... but at the least in my church and school I played, I also have done summer music programs. I do practice every day. And... you know, I was even a section leader in band last year in high school. But, it didn’t matter.”

“It’s okay to feel upset, Ben. I’m sorry. You know... you can practice more. With me, if you want. I don’t have talent to play, but I’ve listened to enough concertos and compositions now to have an ear for it. And there is a youth orchestra here you can try until you are nineteen.” Josh sighed. “Did they not see your passion, though, and hear it in your music? And as for the Allegro criticism... ugh. Seriously, was it within a millisecond that they were counting it against?”

I laughed.

“And, I’m sure a lot of people have to go through this and worse, and many other rejected auditions, before they make it big. You can make good money with good benefits... maybe that’s why they are really picky. And... not to mention, you did this audition coming out of high school. That’s gutsy, though hasty and impulsive. You still can go to college. Get a education. You’ll find a way to make it.”

I felt a bit better, but still my heart felt like it got kicked around, and was sore now. Josh said just the right amount of honesty, encouragement and understanding that gave me the breather to see clearly.

Then, Josh hugged me. Tightly.

“I’m afraid, Josh,” I whispered. But I knew why I was saying that. It was because I wanted to kiss him again. Badly.

“Why, Ben?” He whispered back, still hugging me.

“I just feel like I’ll keep getting rejected. Over and over. And not because I’m bad. Because I’m not good enough. I’m just... like everyone says. Mediocre,” I said with a tremble. Saying it out loud felt more real than thinking it.

He moved slowly out of the embrace and looked at me. He placed his hand on my face, and gave me a sad look.

“You are not mediocre. You’re talented, Ben. I know it.” He sighed, looking down. “And you are so wonderful. Ben... I’m sorry...”

“Why?”

Josh gently took his hand off of my face. “Because I still have feelings for you. And you’re with Marisol.”

I took his hand suddenly and pulled him close.

“Ben?” Josh said with a shuddering breath.

“What?” I said, inching closer to his face.

“You’re still my everything,” Josh says clearly.

We got closer, and Josh turned away, his cheeks red. He sighed and put his hands over his face.

“Josh!”

“What?” He looked at me, almost a frustrated expression on his face.

“I’m breaking up with Marisol.”

“Why?” He said it with a deliberate attempt to be upset, but I could tell he wanted to be happy.

“We’re not good for each other. We don’t have that same synch and flow. That way we can just know what the other is feeling. And how to react. You know what that is like?” I say softly, and Josh nods.

“Yes. Because we have that.” Josh went over to the gift bag. “This is for you.”

“Thanks.” I took it and opened the bag.

It was a bottle of Merlot wine. The date on the bottle was 1955. The year we met.

“Before you say anything, I confiscated this from Billy. My brother has a penchant for getting things illegally,” Josh laughed, but it had an air of annoyance, “And I told him that I’d buy it from him. I didn’t tell him why I’d need it. But... he knew.” Josh shrugged. “I was only bragging about you and the way you were playing that one song the other day. And the audition. He kind of just gave it to me. And even though I don’t really want to drink at all in general... you know, because of my dad... this is special.”

I felt my heart rush in a deep compounding of pent-up emotions and I said, “You’re my everything too, Josh. I’m sorry I never said back.”

“It’s your faith. Your family, I know.”

“Josh, you mean so much to me. You do know that, right?” I saw there were two glasses wrapped in bubble wrap in the bag. And a bottle opener. “Let’s open this in my room. In case my dad or my mom comes in too early.”

“What about Al?” Josh asked.

“He’s with his girlfriend Marta. They’ll be out for a while.”

“Is this like a first date? Since you are breaking up with Marisol?” Josh asked with a giggle.

I rolled my eyes as we both went into my room. “My dream date, Josh.”

“Awww! You’re romantic.”

“Shush!” I say, laughing.

We both tried our best to open the bottle with the opener, but it was difficult. Josh ended up opening it but spilled some on my bed.

“You are the worst!” I joked.

He laughed. “Explain that to your mom!” And we both laughed. “That was an expensive bottle, too. Wow. What a waste. Sorry!”

I poured ourselves a little bit each and we toasted to each other.

I sipped it, and it tasted pretty good, but the cherry flavor was a bit much for me.

“You like it?” He asked.

“Love it! Thank you!” I said.

“You hate it!” He laughed.

We joked around more, and he tried to talk to me more about my plans to go to LA and join the Philharmonic there. He gave me a bit of tough love and a pep talk at the end. I felt it was productive and he was fair but caring.

And then he asked again, “Is this our first date, Ben?”

He asked it with so much sincerity, and so much emotion, I realized he really meant it. I decided to stop trying to hold it in.

“Yes, Josh. Because...” I leaned in close toward him on my bed. “You’re my dream, and this is our first date because I always wanted you to be mine.”

“Even though I still like Speed Racer?” Josh said, and I laughed.

“Yes. Even though you are still a dork and you still like that show. I love you, you dork.” I moved a long strand of his blonde hair away from his gorgeous blue eyes. Just like last time.

Josh looked at me with passion and a bit of surprise. I think he was a bit shocked I finally said that I loved him out loud.“I love you, too, Ben. More than ever. But... before you try any moves on me, play me a song,” Josh said with a wink.

I gave him a funny look, “Moves? What the hell?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Fine. I’ll play you my favorite.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Claire de Lune again?”

“No.” I put down my glass of Merlot and got my double bass by the nightstand.

I played Valse Sentimentale for him.

He was still the whole time, looking at me intensely the whole time, clutching the glass and biting his lip until I played it till the end. I felt a bit nervous, even though I played for Josh tons of times.

It was because this time I knew we were going to kiss after.

And we did.

He went up to me after I was done, and leaned in, kissing me again and again.

I was breathless, my heart was pounding in my ear, and it was so wonderful, I felt like my whole body was on fire yet I wasn’t burning. It was perfect.

I did break up with Marisol, and I think she knew because she didn’t seem upset.

I think she always knew how I felt. How I really felt.

And she even said she hoped I was happy.

I loved her for that, and we embraced.

I felt like an adult, having what I considered my first dream date with the person I truly loved and cared about—-who I was utterly in love with, with an adult beverage over discussions about our future together and our careers.

That ‘55 bottle of Merlot I kept as a keepsake of our first date, and it was special, because it was made the year we met, and it signified a huge change in our relationship. And our lives.

I feel like with Josh by my side, I can accomplish anything, and we can build something strong and lasting in our lives.

And I’m going to fight for that right to have it with him. No matter what.