"Jesus. Can you hand me that fucking wrench?" I reached my hand out from behind the dryer in the laundry room, waiting for Gabby to hand me the wrench.
"It didn't look this hard on the YouTube video," Gabby muses. It didn't. It looked super simple on the YouTube video, so why was I having such a fucking hard time.
Our dryer went out. Again. This time it's Gabby's clothes that are sitting in a soaking heap on the floor. It's a Tuesday afternoon in the first week of November, and each day I cross off on the calendar is bringing me careening toward a collision between myself and the finance office. I'm not even halfway to my goal, and if Kaden has his way I won't make it at all. I may have backed off on selling slightly this week, but it had more to do with a heavy schedule than actually bending to his whims.
Since the funds are tight, we're stuck fixing our own washer and dryer. The landlord handles repairs for anything that came with the house, like the stove or refrigerator. The washer and dryer are Gabby's, so we're stuck fixing these on our own.
"Maybe we got the wrong belt from the store? Do you think that's the problem?"
I drop my cell phone that I was using as a flashlight next to me and lie back, wiping the sweat from my brow with frustration. "No. I think the belt will be fine, I just can't seem to get this goddamn bolt off of here."
Gabby's tongue darts out to wet her lips while her brows dip in consternation. "Do you want me to try to call Dave again?"
I let out a loud sigh. We called him twice already. We don't know if he would even know where to begin to repair a dryer and he's not answering the phone, but no one on my social media feeds has been of any assistance. "Sure," I breathe out, defeated.
Standing from the floor I wander back toward our small toolbox. It's got the necessities, but that's about it. I'm not sure if the bolt is stuck, if I just don't have enough muscle to get the damned thing out, or if I don't have the right tools. Really, the options for failure are endless when you don't know shit about fuck.
I still have my phone cradled tightly in my hand when it begins to ring. I glance down and see a number I don't recognize lighting up the screen. Could it be a customer? I'm kind of busy. Maybe it's something to do with mom. Either way, I hope it's someone that can tell me how to fix my goddamn dryer. I answer it with a tentative hello.
"Vale?"
The voice is unmistakable, but there's no way he can be on my phone right now. He doesn't even have my number.
"Kaden?"
The low chuckle from the other side of the line lets me know that I'm right on the money.
"Hey, I was actually just going to see if you're free this evening to get started on our project. I know we didn't have any plans, but I'm free so I thought I would see if you're up for it. I could stop and pick up the necessities at a Home Depot or something."
Home Depot. Yes!
"Hey.... do you happen to know anything about dryers?"
Silence lingers a moment before he responds. "Like, hair dryers?"
"No, laundry dryers. I think the belt in mine is out and I'm trying to fix it, but I have like five tools and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."
He snorts and doesn't even have the decency to hide it. I hate being vulnerable in front of him, but desperate times call for desperate measures – and I'm fucking desperate.
"Yeah, actually. I'm pretty good with them. Did you pick up the belt?"
"Yeah, I got it from a repair place but I didn't want to spend the money for a repair man, so I just looked up a tutorial on YouTube."
"It is a straightforward fix. Can you text me your address and I'll let you know when I'm leaving the store?"
"Yep. See you soon."
He hangs up without offering a farewell in return and I flip my phone to the text screen, typing in my address and firing it off to the number Kaden called from that I assume is his cell.
I still don't know how he got my number, but I'll have to remember to ask him later.
Our project is a study of root systems. We're going to grow some plants upside down, compared to some plants that are grown the traditional way, and see how the variances in growth structure change the root systems and how they spread naturally. It's going to be our big project for the semester, so we want to get an early start on it.
The only downside is that it's hard to find good plants to grow at the beginning of November. Luckily, his friend has some "greenhouse lights" (yeah, sure) that he's going to loan us for the experiment. I'm going to set them up at the table downstairs by my music room. We're just going to go with cherry tomatoes across the board for consistency purposes.
About an hour and a half later, Kaden is roaming through my living room, his head swiveling side to side to check out the digs. They're not impressive, but given the fact that we're two college students with hand-me-down furniture living in a worn-down house, I think we keep the place looking the best that it possibly can.
"Nice place."
"Thanks. Can I get you something to drink?"
He shrugs. "Do you have a beer?"
"I have warm water or cold water. For the variety."
He gives me a smile. "I'll have some of that cold water. Do you have ice?"
I give him a quick nod. "You're lucky. Gabby and I just got an icemaker installed last week. Ice in my water is an absolute necessity so it was the one comfort I insisted on splurging for."
"It was a good expenditure. You really know how to spoil your guests, Val."
I chuckle under my breath while I get him a glass of ice water and show him to the laundry room first. He took one look at the dryer and pulled out a small toolbox he had brought with him.
"Yeah, you just didn't have the right kind of wrench. You needed a socket wrench, which I have. This will take me like three minutes."
I let out a sign of relief. "Oh my God, thank you so much. You're a life saver. We had to fix the heating element in it a couple of weeks back, and I wasn't willing to pay for another repair man."
He lays down on the floor and starts working immediately. "Yeah, this is super easy. If you had what you needed I'm willing to bet you would have been just fine getting it done on your own."
I feel myself blush at the compliment, even though it's the smallest compliment ever. Apparently my insides haven't gotten the memo that we are definitely, absolutely not smitten with Kaden West.
"Alright. Let me just put the back on, and you should be set."
I frown in surprise. "Wow. You weren't kidding. I think that was only a minute and a half."
"Under promise, over-deliver. That's my motto."
"Good motto."
Once the back is snugly affixed to the old white dryer, he sneaks around the front and powers it on. Immediately, the sound of the mechanism tumbling as it is supposed to fill the room. "You're a lifesaver, really."
"Clothes saver, at least." He smirks. I think I can let this moment go to his head, just this once. He did save my ass and all.
"Wanna get looking at this project?"
He nods, motioning with his hands in an "after you," gesture. I lead the way, wandering through the laundry room, and we're just about past my room when Kaden pulls at my elbow. "That your room?" he asks, gesturing with a side nod toward the darkened room.
I hesitate slightly. Do I want him to see my room? Is it presentable? Is every pair of underwear I've ever worn strewn across the space like it was picked up in a tornado and redistributed specifically to embarrass me?
"Yeah. That's my room. Did you want a tour or something?"
The muscles in his cheeks twitch slightly and I can tell he's suppressing a smile. "I don't think I need a tour of the entire house, I think I can see most of it from here, but I'm curious about your room."
I turn and walk into my room, switching the light on and bathing the space in incandescent lighting. "As you can see, there's a bed for sleeping. A closet for clothing. I even have one of those new fandangled television sets that all the kids are going on about these days."
"Smart ass," he murmurs under his breath as he moves about the space, letting his gaze coast over the decor. Most of it is pretty average. I have a grey down comforter, and a black pine bed and dresser. I keep it pretty neat where I can as well. He only spends a moment on that and moves his attention to the band posters I have littering the walls. Most of them are specific vintage prints I've hunted down and are kept in a place of pride, hung in large poster frames. There are a few others, though, which seem to be what he focuses on.
"The Dingoes Ate my Baby?"
I laugh at him but don't hold it against him for not understanding. "It's a band from a television show. Strictly fake. It's ok."
"Robin Sparkles, Sex Bob-omb, Josie and the Pussycats? You seem to have a thing for fake bands."
I give him a shrug. "Sometimes they're just as influential on popular culture as real bands. Plus, someone writes the songs they play. Some of them are pretty good."
He laughs at my sheepish tone. "God, you're fucking cute."
I roll my eyes. "Come on."
I lead him out of my room and down the stairs to the finished portion of the basement. It's a large space, but only half of it is finished, and that portion is enclosed by a door. Inside the door are three large tables, my baby grand piano, a drum set, and a selection of guitars on guitar stands. Two of the tables are already covered with sample machines, and recording items, microphones, headphones, switchboards, you name it - I've got it.
"Holy shit, Vale," Kaden says, letting his eyes caress the room softly, reverently. He approves. If I'm honest, I have a pretty sweet setup, and it's fun to show him up once in a while. Especially because it happens so infrequently.
"I'm a music major, what can I say?"
I start pulling the empty table out the door into the unfinished area of the basement. I could have left it in there, but I thought it would probably be better off to the side in an area that isn't used nearly as frequently. It'll stay more undisturbed. Once we get it into place we start getting everything set up, which is as tedious as you would imagine.
"How long have you been into music?" he asks casually while he's rinsing the roots of one of the tomato plants in a large bucket we have here for that reason.
"Since I came out of the womb, I suppose. My mom said I was always a singer, even as a baby. She said my cries sounded like their own melody. I'm not sure my father would agree with her, but I prefer her rendition of things."
"Was your mom a musician?"
I hesitate, not sure how much about my home life I really want to divulge, but these questions are rooted deeply in the past, and I can handle those. Everything up until I was about ten seems perfect in my mind. It's possible that I remember things with rose-colored glasses, but I'm more comfortable discussing that time period.
"No. She was a dancer. Ballet. She was a principal dancer for the big-time dance company back in Maine. I used to go in with her a lot when I was little, and I remember one of the ladies that handled the music there started teaching me a few things on the piano with spare time. The rest is history."
He nods along, listening to the story. "What instruments can you play?"
A voice surprised me answering the question while it descended the stairs to our right. "She can play the piano, guitar, bass guitar, violin, and the flute. She can also play the drums, but she sucks at it. That's Gabby's wheelhouse."
I stare on, completely surprised to find Kendrik standing in my basement. It's not like he doesn't have my number. He could have called.
"What are you doing here, Kendrik?"
"I went by the station, and some stoner kid gave me your address. Said I could find you here."
"That explains the how, but not the what. What are you doing here?"
Beside me I can feel Kaden tense, taking in the terse discussion and all-around intensity between Kendrik and me. I'm sure it's obvious that we were something to each other at one point, but it was barely more than a friends with benefits scenario.
Kendrik's eyes are bouncing between Kaden and me. I can see the wheels turning in his head, but I raise my eyebrows at him to urge him to answer my question.
"Battle of the Bands is coming up. We get extra credit for entering. I'm putting together an ensemble, and I thought we were always great together. Figured I'd come around here and see if you wanted to get together."
A slight heat enters his gaze as he utters the last part of the sentence and I don't miss the double meaning. My jaw drops open a fraction while I try to fumble to find something to say in return, but I can't seem to find the words. We aren't even really the same genre of performers.
"She's taken, I'm afraid," Kaden surprises me by coming to my rescue. Although is it a rescue? I'm not sure. I hadn't even had time to really consider Kendrik's proposal before Kaden chimed in on my behalf.
Kendrik's eyes flit over to Kaden. "I didn't ask you, did I West?"
I can see tension etching Kaden's features and the tone that Kendrik just took with him let me know that there isn't any love lost between the two, although they clearly know one another, at least by reputation.
"Kendrik, thanks so much for coming by and thinking of me, but Kaden's right. I'm not available to join forces with you for Battle of the Bands. I wish you and your tribe the best of luck, though."
Kendrik purses his lips as he does nothing to even attempt to mask his disappointment with my answer. He really is extremely good-looking. Hot, even. I had forgotten. That doesn't mean that I want to get back into anything with him, but I have eyes. Two of them, even.
"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind. My number's still the same."
"So is mine. If you would have tried that first I could have saved you some time."
The side of Kendrik's mouth quirks up. "I heard some things. Thought I'd stop by and check on you, see how the new digs are treating you. Seems like you're doing just fine. See ya around, Vale."
Kendrik finds his own way out, and I watch his retreating back, unable to pull my eyes away while I register the trainwreck that just happened right here in my basement. What was that? From either of them? From me?
"I didn't know you knew Kendrik," Kaden says, sullen and irritated, "Are you two dating?"
I scoff. "No, Kaden. He's my ex."