JUNE 21ST, 2008!!

June 21st, 2008 was an interesting to say the very least. Red Wood Drift was holding another weekly session of band practice at Tori’s house. While it was only 85 degrees outside, it was about 110 degrees inside Tori’s house. “Can we turn on the air conditioner?” I pleaded from my spot in the center of the room where I sat atop a wooden barstool, adjusting the microphone stand that was too high for me. “I’m begging you, Tor. This is getting ridiculous.” “I can’t, bro. My mom will flip out on me.” She responded dully from her seat in the corner. She was struggling to tune her guitar but it was just one of those days where the guitar did not want to be tuned. “Where’s Costello?” I glanced over at my cell phone where the time stamp in the corner read ‘4:59 PM’. “Technically,” I began, leaning forward to fasten the stand for the last time. “He isn’t late yet. Practice was set for 5:00.” “Whatever, bro.” Tori said, shaking her head as she played a string to test it. I looked back at my cell phone and watched the time tick to 5:00 and then to 5:01. “Yo, is Sam coming?” I shrugged, running my fingers through my hair that was now sticking to my forehead. I wore a dark-red Kum Sung Camp T-shirt, bright red half-flowered, half-skulled boy’s swim trunks (hey man, don’t judge. They’re comfortable!) and a red tank top. There was a color-theme that day, I presume. I always liked the color red but the summer of 2008 was my chance to ‘Rock-the-Red’ for the Devils who didn’t make it very far in the playoffs. “She said she’d be here.” And as if it were scripted, Sam appeared on the doorstep, knocking at the entrance. “COME IN!” I yelled, as was custom to greet the visitors at the Gil household. Sam walked into the extraordinarily overheated abode and waved to me. She did not wave to Tori which I, for one, found odd. In case you readers have forgotten, Sam and Tori started ‘going out’ (is that what these kids are calling it these days?) 10 days before this event. Frankly, I did NOT want to get involved with whatever these two decided was going on between them. I had enough going on in my own life at this point to try to ignore other people’s problems. Even though they were two of my best friends, I knew this was a weird and awkward situation that came as a semi-shock to the group. “Hi.” Tori said, not looking up from her guitar. Sam didn’t respond immediately (or verbally) and just slightly nodded her chin as a ‘greeting’. I rolled my eyes. Another annoying point about these two was that they had the communication skills of 18-month-olds. “I’m going to call Christopher.” I said, attempting to excuse myself. As if that were scripted also, Chris walked into the house holding the case for his bass guitar. “Hey dudes.” He said with smile. “You have bad timing.” I whispered to him. He peered over my shoulder and looked over at Sam and Tori, uncomfortably tried to avoid eye-contact with each other. “It’s a little uneasy in here.” “Why?” He asked, then seemed to realize exactly why and laughed quietly to himself. “Ohh…right.” I nodded.