Secret Rendezvous

2.

Twenty years earlier

Is it possible to fall in love at twelve? It sure felt like I had.

The summer days sped by in a flash. Dad had been talking non stop all season about a new job he'd been offered. I was sad to leave my friends for the weekend, but at the same time I craved a new adventure. It had been the same old thing every year, just dad and I lounging on the pool deck on his days off from work. Every other day it was filled with a rotation of two different sitters who mostly sat on their asses and watched TV all day.

With the wind in my hair and the open road in front of us, dad and I ventured out to what would become a yearly tradition. We sang the whole way there. It was two hours of belting out The sweater song by Weezer and every Aerosmith song we could get out before we got there.

I remember pulling up to the hotel for the first time and glancing across the street. I was amazed by the amount of people working to set up the event. I could sit and watch them build the stages for hours without ever moving a muscle.

The first day we arrived after checking in, we went across to the field where the festival would be held. Dad brought me into a tent with the other security workers and some of their families. There weren't many kids my age, actually there weren't any at all except for Landry. He had coarse dirty blonde hair that reached his chin. He was the friendliest face in the room.

The first time I saw him he was crouched in the corner playing a small acoustic guitar. His fingers were quick on the strings and the sound that came out of that small boy was something else. Everyone turned their heads when he belted out a note, including me.

His hazel eyes lifted, most likely he felt the weight of my stare. When they did I was taken aback by his wide braced grin. He stood, put his guitar down, and stomped over to me in doc martens too big for his small feet.

"I'm Landry." He said.

"Callie Peters."

His hand lingered in mine and even at that age my stomach fluttered as if I were in love.

"Nice guitar, is that a Taylor?"

"You know your guitars, huh?" He smirked.

I shrugged. "Only a little."

"Do you know how to play?" He asked.

My words caught in my throat. I did play a little. Mom left behind her guitar when she vanished into thin air. One night she was singing me a bedtime lullaby, the next all of her things were packed, and she was nowhere to be found. I was six.

"I taught myself a little. I found a website on AOL." I said, when my voice returned.

"Do you have AIM?" He asked.

I nodded.

"We can exchange screen names before the weekend is over. Come on over I can teach you some new chords."

I stood there, mouth open, eyes wide. Boys didn't normally talk to me. I was the weird girl who didn't dress like a girl. I wore JNCO jeans, attached my wallet with chains, and never wore anything but old worn down VANS or Converses.

"Well?" He asked.

"You're talking to me right? There's no one behind me..." I glanced over my shoulder. Before I turned back his hand was in mine pulling me forward.

"Of course I meant you silly."

We spent that whole first day in the tent going back and forth playing the guitar. His mom was there and had offered to watch us while my dad and his went to work.

"I want to be a rock star when I grow up. My friends and I have this really cool band. You should check them out. We have this kick ass angelfire website that my friend built. He's good with html."

Being a child, I giggled at his colorful language. I was surprised he didn't end up with a bar of soap in his mouth with how dirty his words were.

From the moment I met him his dream was to be a rockstar. I still remember the look on his face as we watched Blink 182 hit the stage. The lights dimmed just before a spotlight shone into the audience. Landry's mouth opened wide as the music flowed through our veins.

He never missed a beat or a lyric either. He played the drums against his leg with a steady beat. He sang loud over the music the best he could. That first night when he looked over at me, grabbed my hand, and started belting out the lyrics to Girl at the rock show, he had my heart.

I was in awe to find someone who rocked out to the same music I loved. The girls I hung out with were into Hanson and Nsync, and although I had a mega crush on the middle Hanson, pop was just not my thing.

The first night of the concert dad had a lot of extra work. Not only was the last band not on until after ten, but he made it a point to stay after to make sure the crowd got out safely. Then he had to spend a few more hours manning the tents in tent city.

Landry's mom, Cindy I think her name was, she offered to take me to their room for the night. Dad was hesitant, because Landry was a boy, but she somehow convinced him. Maybe it was the fact that she would be sleeping in the same room with us. Sure I was only twelve, but dad knew my period started early that I was well aware of what it meant.

That night she fed us room service while we watched episodes of All That and Invader Zim.

"What was the first band you ever saw live?" I asked.

The two of us were lying on our stomachs while shoveling large ice cream sundaes into our mouths. I still remember his chocolate mustache.

"Green day," he said, crunching down on a few m&ms.

"You are so lucky," I replied. "Dad's cool, but he would never allow me to see Green day."

"Yet here you are watching Blink 182 surrounded by drugs and alcohol."

Our laughter filled the room. We talked for hours about concerts and how the only one I'd ever been to was the sold out Hanson show my best friend Juli had won tickets to.

When it was time for bed I crawled in next to him. His mom had been snoring for an hour by this point. As we laid there in pitch black and silence he reached for my hand. Confused, I looked over and even in the dark I caught the outline of his face.

"I'm sorry." He said. "Sleeping in new places freaks me out a little."

I squeezed his hand and held on tight.

"Same here. I like to use my headphones to fall asleep but forgot them in my hotel room."

Landry let go of my hand and hopped out of bed. He opened his suitcase and fidgeted around in the dark. A few moments later I heard the sound of Green day singing in my ear. Between the pillow sat his headphones and a small CD walkman. He reached out, grabbed my hand, and hummed along to the music. It was easy to drift off with him and the sounds of Green day softly singing in my ear.