17I Wanna Be Sedated || Ramones
JP
“So you’re justgonna get on a bus to Trois-Rivières?” Molly asks me. “Like a normal person?”
I shift my duffel bag up higher on my shoulder. “That’s the plan.”
A few months ago, I wouldn’t have thought there was anything weird about me taking a Greyhound, but Molly’s surprise kind of makes sense now. Sherbrooke Station mania is getting more intense by the day. I never used to have to deal with getting recognized unless me and the guys were all hanging out together, but lately I’ve been stopped by fans on the metro at least once every few days.
It’s still rare enough to be fun for me—I usually do a little air piano solo for them after I sign whatever they want me to sign—but I know Ace is having a shit time with it. He and Stéphanie literally got mobbed leaving the dive bar last week and had to order a ride instead of walking home.
“Luckily no one at the bus station can possibly be a bigger Sherbrooke Station fan than you,” I tease Molly.
“What can I say? I have good taste,” she shoots back, popping one of the bus station doors open with her hip and leading us inside.
It’s late Friday afternoon, and the place is bustling with people leaving and arriving for the weekend. I can barely make out what the French voice on the speakers is saying. We walk over to one of the boards listing the upcoming departures and find our gate number.
“We’ve still got half an hour,” Molly announces. “Do you want to get something to eat?”
I grin at her. “I brought snacks.”
She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical. Is it chocolate pudding cups and ham sandwiches?”
I gasp like I’m shocked. “Madame, how did you know?”
In truth, Iama little shocked. I only met Molly in September, and we can already predict each other like a weather forecast.
She can’t have everything figured out, though. Not yet. There are parts of me I haven’t let her see, and we’re about to get on a bus that will take us straight to most of them. It hits me then that I have no idea what our return trip is going to be like. Right now, she’s sitting with her legs thrown over my lap, chewing on a ham sandwich as she laughs at me impersonating the voice on the intercom, but come Sunday, we might not even be sitting next to each other on the bus.
Molly still knows me as the funny guy. She likes the funny guy. I’m starting to think that one day, there’s a possibility she might even love him. There’s a big chance that letting her see the not-so-funny side of my life is going to blow up in my face.
Still, she said she wanted everything, and I said it right back. She wanted a new role in life, and she was brave enough to go out and get it. I owe it to her to at least try and do the same.
Our bus pulls up on the other side of the sliding doors, and soon everyone is getting in line to board. Molly goes to claim a pair of seats near the front, but I wave for her to follow me all the way to the back.
“Back of the bus is for the cool kids,” I explain.
She shakes her head. “We’re not in elementary school. The back of the bus just means it’s going to take longer for us to get off at the end.”
She still sits down next to me. We peel open our pudding cups and spoon chocolate into our mouths as the streets of downtown Montreal slip by. Soon we’re out on the highway, the sun sinking out of sight in the sky.
“So I have some news,” Molly tells me, after we’ve been quiet for awhile. “Shayla offered me a full time job at Metro Records.”
“What?”
She nods. I can tell she’s trying to play it casual, but she can’t keep herself from beaming. “She wants me to be the head of graphic design. I mean, I’m theonlyone doing graphic design—for now, at least—but she said I’m...”
“Go on,” I urge her. “You can brag.”
“She said she always knew I had the talent for it; she just wasn’t sure about the whole interpersonal skills thing, but she said I’ve become a real leader at Metro Records and an important part of the team.”
“Fuck yes you have!” I grab her hand and wave it in the air, shouting loud enough that a few rows of people turn their heads. “Mesdames et monsieurs,we have a real leader here with us today!”
“Stop it!” she hisses, snatching her hands back. She’s still smiling, though.
“Wait.” I cock my head at her when the realization catches up with me. “What about school?”
That knocks the grin right off her face. She turns to watch the endless miles of darkening forest we’re flying past.
