Page 29 of Charm City Rocks
“Just hit her up,” says Caleb. “Say hey. Like, ‘ ’Sup, girl?’ ”
“Cay, I don’t talk like that. I don’t thinkanyonedoes. Also, that’s not a good idea.”
“Orrrrr…” says Caleb, “it’s the greatest idea in the history of human thought.” He holds out his iPad as evidence. “The hardest thing about calling girls is that you never know what to say, right? Well, you’vegotthings to say. You’re both all over the Internet.”
“When have you…Caleb, have you called a girl before?”
Caleb’s eyes shift from side to side. “I don’t tell you everything.”
“Really? That’s grea—”
“Well, people don’t really call each other,” says Caleb. “It’s morelike texting now, or maybe DMs. Oh, you should text her! Texting is casual. Less pressure. Like, ‘Hey, so I guess we’re both Internet famous now, el-oh-el.’ I’ll hit up Rebecca. She can give me Margot’s number.”
“Cay, that’sreallynot a good idea. Rebecca thinks you’re at best an Internet pervert. She’s not just gonna hand you a famous musician’s phone number.”
Caleb jams a handful of Goldfish crackers into his mouth. “Dammit,” he says.
“It was just a fluke thing,” says Billy. “That’s it. We need to move on.”
“We have to trysomething,though, right?”
Billy just now notices that Caleb is playing Burnt Flowers’s second album—track four, a song called “Slash Waitress.” Margot’s drum bed is subtle, just under the surface of the guitar, like something approaching. He nods up at the sound. “Good choice.”
“I can see why you liked them so much,” Caleb says.
“They were a helluva band. But, Cay, the thing is: Ididtry.”
“I know, you went after her after my cluster-eff at Charm City. And that was a baller move. But—”
“No, after that. After she played at the Horse. We were down by the Harbor, having pretzels.”
“Cinnamon?” asks Caleb.
“Yeah.”
“Nice.”
“I told her how great she played,” says Billy. “It felt like, I don’t know, we had a moment. So I asked if she wanted to get a drink.”
“What’d she say?” Caleb asks.
“She said no. Then she left.”
“Left?”
“In a cab.”
Caleb collapses onto the couch, digs in for more Goldfish.
“Just because you like a girl—a woman,” says Billy, “it doesn’t mean she owes you something. It’s not her job to like you back.”
“But shedoeslike you,” says Caleb.
Billy hangs his cardigan on a hook by the door and sits next to his son. Burnt Flowers plays on the turntable next to the Steinway. Caleb offers Billy some Goldfish crackers.What if Robyn is wrong?Billy wonders. Would it be so bad if Caleb stayed in Baltimore? If after graduating from Hopkins he got a job downtown and lived a few miles from Billy? He thinks of hitting concerts with his son—of taking him out for a beer when he turns twenty-one, of having him…well, here.
“I get that you don’t wanna be, like,that guy,” says Caleb. “You know, pushy. But, before you give up, I don’t think you’re respecting the full enormity of this situation, Dad.”
Billy laughs. “Enormity? Isn’t that a little dramatic? A couple of YouTube videos?”
