You Should Have Been Here Yesterday

The First Thing I'd Like to Do in 1970

They were all staring at us when we left the room.  I guess they were expecting a yelling match or something.  Thank god that didn't happen.

        "Let's get the party going!" Steven exclaimed, clapping his hands together after no one said anything.

        Midway through making the cake, an unfamiliar voice greeted the band.  I didn't step out to see who it was because I was, as afore mentioned, making a cake (and it wasn't going well).

        "Ginny," Steven said, coming up behind me and placing a hand on my waist, causing me to jump.  "This is Brad Whitford, the newest and final addition to Aerosmith," he said with a grin.  "Brad, this is the lovely–"

        "Ginny Ramone," the guy named Brad said.  "The one you kept talking about yesterday."

        "Er, yeah," Steven says awkwardly, blushing right along with me.

        "Right," I say slowly.  "Hey, Brad.  You're a pretty good guitarist?"

        "I–"

        "We found him over at Berklee!" Steven said brightly.  The Berklee College of Music... Why didn't I apply there?

        "Nice," I mutter, mind still on my failing cake.  "Can you get Joey in here please?"

        "He isn't here yet," Steven said.

        "He's not here?!  He said he was gonna walk on down after he was ready.  How long've I been here?"

        "Like an hour?"

        Brad watched the exchange with mild interest, probably not knowing who Joey is.

        Then, as if on cue, Joey came into the kitchen.  "Shit, it's fuckin' freezing out there!" he exclaimed, coming up to the preheating oven and opening it, placing his hands in front of the warmth.

        "Hey Ginny," Brad said.  "Joey's here."

        I dunno why he keeps calling me Ginny.  I don't mind it, it's just what Steven (and occasionally Joe) calls me.  Maybe Brad doesn't know that I actually prefer Gin.  After all, Steven was the one telling him about me.

        "Thanks, Brad," I murmur sarcastically, kind of the same way that he told me Joey was here.    I like this kid's attitude.  "Hey, Joey.  I dunno how to do this... How much mix do I put in this pan?   Could you help me?"

        Joey half-smiled–an unusual appearance for him, usually it's a laugh and full-on grin.  "Soitanly," he said like Curly from The Three Stooges.  "You gotta get a bowl," he said, sounding almost nervous.  "You can't do it straight in the pan."  He tried for a laugh, but it sounded strangled.

        So Brad and Steven took seats at the table in the kitchen while Joey helped make the cake, Brad getting to know Joey and me better.

        And, for almost the first time ever, when I put the cake in the oven, Joey looked uncomfortable.  He's really an easygoing person.  It was strange to see him like this.  "Gin, there's somethin' I gotta show you," he muttered so only I could hear.  He led me out to the hallway.

        There were many things it could have been, but I had a pretty good guess as to what he had to show me.  And I was correct.  "It took me so long to get here because I had a run-in with the management of the apartment," Joey said with forced calm, though I could tell he was panicking.  "They're kicking us out, Gin."  He showed me the pinkish envelope, quite similar to the one currently residing in my pocket.