Free Finding Us by Harper Bentley

few items I needed for that evening then went back to Mom and Dad’s and hung out with Dad in his recording studio he’d built into the house when I was little. Since he’d played in a pretty popular rock band in the 70s, he’d stayed connected to music, even writing and recording jingles for advertisements that actually broadcast on TV and the radio. He still hooked up with established and up-and-coming artists to help with lyrics and sometimes even wrote music for them.
    So there we sat in his sanctuary, both of us with guitars , jamming out to a little Led Zeppelin, some Van Halen, several Jimi Hendix riffs and a bit of Pearl Jam. We played “Guess That Riff” for a bit until I stumped him with Silverchair’s “Israel’s Son.” Then we shredded like crazy for a while more which was fucking awesome. When he challenged me to an “Eruption” duel, I was in… and then I was out, watching in awe as his fingers moved over the strings. The old man still had it.
    By the time we finished, we’d been in there for almost four hours. And I’d loved every minute of it. I’d really missed my parents.
    “My word, you two,” Mom said to us from where she sat on the sofa doing a crossword puzzle. “You’ve been going at it forever. Would you like me to make you some lunch?”
    “Yes, please, honey,” Dad answered as he walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek when she stood up.
    I followed both of them into the kitchen. “It was awesome, Mom. I kicked Dad’s ass with a few riffs, though.” I chuckled knowing that’d piss him off.
    “Ha! You’re good, son, but you have nothing on your old man.”
    “I know, I know. You know I think you’re the best,” I honestly told him and he ruffled my hair like I was a five year old.
    “Jack Love called when you were playing,” Mom said as she put a plate of lasagna in the microwave.
    El’s dad had called. He probably wanted to know why I was in town giving his daughter shit.
    “Yeah? What’d he want?” asked Dad who was browsing through the newspaper.
    “Oh, he want ed help with his old Mustang. Said he,” she thought for a second trying to remember, “oh, said he needs help with the choke settings on the carburetor. Yeah, I think that was it.” She took the plate out of the microwave and put the other in, punching buttons and starting it.
    “I’ll call him here in a few minutes. He’s always having trouble with that Holley. Jag? You wanna come with me?”
    “Sure. Might as well.”
    We ate then walked down the block to the Love’s house. I kept an eye out for El’s Jetta, but saw she wasn’t there. There was a pickup truck parked on the street, but I didn’t know whose it was. We walked around back to the detached garage where Mr. Love worked on his cars.
    “Hey, Jack. Still having problems?”
    Mr. Love stood up from under the hood where he’d been working on the engine. “Well, hey there, Jag.” He wiped his hands on a rag then held one out to shake mine. “How are you?”
    “I’m good, Mr. Love. How’re you?”
    “Good, good. Guess the season didn’t turn out the way you wanted, huh?” he said with a frown.
    “No. Would’ve been nice if we were still playing. But what’re ya gonna do?”
    “How about win?” he replied with a chuckle which made me snort.
    “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan,” I agreed.
    “So , let’s take a look here,” Dad said and bent to look at the carburetor.
    We were checking things out when I heard from behind me, “What the fuck are you doing here?” I turned to see El’s brother, Robbie, walking toward the shop. Fuck.
    Both dads straightened looking to see what was going on.
    Robbie kept walking toward me and got right up in my face. “I thought I told you to stay away from my sister.” He pushed on my shoulders making me take a step back. Now, I didn’t want to get into it with El’s brother, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to back down. If he took it there, I wasn’t just going to take it