Free Freak by Francine Pascal Page B

from the stage, drumsticks in one hand, mixed drink in the other. His eyes were swimming in their sockets and rimmed with red. He was a big guy, on the short side, but ripped—the kind of guy Sam would usually imagine could hold his liquor. Clearly, however, Johnny was not an accomplished drinker.
    â€œDude! You are the man!” Johnny shouted, practically tackling Aidan out of his chair as he hugged him.
    â€œHow drunk are you?” Aidan asked, slapping Johnny’s back.
    â€œVery. I get performance anxiety,” Johnny answered over his shoulder. “But I’m so glad you’re here, man!”
    Aidan shot Charlie a look that said, This is why I dragged you here. Charlie and Jeff laughed as the hug continued, and Sam found himself looking over his shoulder again, this time toward the door.
    He should have asked Gaia to come with him tonight. He’d thought about it when he’d seen her earlier, but something had stopped him. Just like something had stopped him from bringing up the messages he’d left her. And the longer he’d said nothing about it, the longer she’d said nothing about it, and the more awkward it felt to even think about bringing it up.
    The problem was, not saying something about it made him seem like he was embarrassed about it, which he was. Too embarrassed to jump straight to asking her out.
    I’m just going to have to give it some time. Not a lot. Just some, Sam thought, taking another gulp of his beer. Once the memory of the many messages had faded a bit, he’d just call her up and ask her if she wanted to get together. Do something normal. Like go to the movies or for a walk. Or maybe a game of chess in the park. That was how they’d met, after all. It would be kind of romantic.
    â€œEarth to Sam!” Aidan said, snapping in front of his face. He was standing up next to Sam now and Johnny had returned to his seat behind the drums. “What the hell are you thinking about?”
    Just wondering what Gaia’s doing right now, Sam’s mind replied.
    â€œNothing,” he answered.
    â€œYou’ve been zoning out all day,” Aidan said. “I’m surprised you figured out how to put your pants on to come here.”
    â€œIt’s the chick stare,” Jeff said, sucking at his teeth. “He’s got the chick stare.”
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about?” Charlie asked with a laugh. Jeff was always saying stupid, pointless crap with this serious intonation like it was all deep.
    â€œHe’s thinking about some girl,” Jeff said, rather astutely for him. “It’s all over his face.”
    Charlie, Aidan, and Jeff all looked at Sam expectantly. Like he was really going to get into a detailed conversation about his “chick stare” and the object of it with these guys in the middle of a loud club. Not likely.
    â€œYou are so off base, you’re halfway to the outfield,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to remember whether we remembered to pause the Xbox before we left.”
    â€œAw, dude, you better have remembered!” Jeff cried, moving to the edge of his seat. “I was like five minutes from slaying the dragon!”
    â€œIn your dreams,” Charlie said.
    Sam smiled. His friends were fabulously distractable.
    â€œSo, you want another beer or what?” Aidan asked, whacking Sam’s shoulder with the back of his hand.
    â€œStill working on this one,” Sam answered, tilting the bottle toward his friend.
    As Aidan walked to the bar, Sam tried to tune in to Charlie and Jeff’s conversation—something about the club they wanted to hit later. The band hadn’t started playing yet, but the music on the sound system was still pretty loud. Sam could barely hear what anyone was saying, and he knew once the band began their set, it would become impossible. Then he could zone out all he wanted.
    Zone out and think of what to say when he asked out