Night shifts black

I roll my eyes and grunt. “So that’s twice now,” I return with a smug look.

“Twice what?”

“Twice that you’ve skipped over the part about raging against ‘The Man.’ Is that your thing or what?”

He grins. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe not. How much will it bug you if I don’t respond?”

“Alright, that’s it,” I cry, jumping off my chair.

“What are you doing?” he asks in surprise.

“I want to hear your music.”

“What? Like, right now?”

“Yes, right now.” I pick up my phone and start searching. It’s not hard to find, as I was sure it wouldn’t be. “What should I start with? Oh wait, I know. I remember one of them from Luke.”

I type in “Argyle” and “Night Shifts Black.” Apparently, this is a much older song, which makes sense based on the story that went with it, but must still be pretty popular because I find several versions of it.

“What are you looking for?”

I give him a mischievous look, but pull away so he can’t see what I’m doing. I click the link and set the phone on the counter.

As soon as the song starts, Casey glances at me in shock, the amusement fading from his eyes. My own mood shifts at the change, and I regret it, although I’m not sure how I would have known.

“That’s the one song Luke talked about?” he asks. He doesn’t seem angry, just surprised, maybe concerned.

I shrug. “In passing. It wasn’t in reference to the song itself, but something about guitars and tuning? It just happened to be the only one I remembered.”

Casey seems to relax, and it’s my turn to be surprised. He forces a smile. “Yeah, the guys like to tune down half a step so they can play it open.”

I have no idea what that means, but I don’t want to remind him his whole world is a mystery to me.

“Who wrote this one?” I ask, and for some reason I’m prepared for his look this time. It only lasts a second before he glances away.

“All of us, like everything,” he replies cryptically.

“Ok, then who had the original idea for it?”

Now I have his attention and meet his gaze with a steady look, daring him to brush me off again. I know it’s not fair. I never would have forced a response from Luke and would have backtracked the second I realized I’d approached a controversial topic. Actually, no, I wouldn’t have even asked the question in the first place. But somehow I know Casey is different. He can handle hard questions, even if he doesn’t want to.

“What do you think of it?” he asks, deflecting again anyway.

I sigh and let him off the hook. “Honestly, it kind of sucks,” I say. “I’m more of a country girl.”

His face falls for a second, and then the grin breaks when mine does.

“Liar,” he replies, and I laugh.

“Yeah. I’m kidding. Actually, I like it a lot. Not what I was expecting.”

“Really? What were you expecting?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, the way you guys talk, I thought it would just be lots of incoherent screaming and banging.”

He laughs. “There’s some of that.”

I nod with a smile. “Yeah, but it’s beautiful, too, in a way. I love the strings in the chorus. Right there! That part you can hear under Luke’s voice.” I quiet. “Wow. He’s really good. Like, really, really good.”

Casey seems amused again. “Shocking, huh? Bands generally prefer frontmen who can sing.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I just never heard him doing his thing before, that’s all. Well, that I recognized anyway. I never truly listened. It’s like learning something new about him.”

“Yeah, this is a pretty old one, too. That’s why I was surprised Luke brought it up.”

“He was talking about the time your gear got stolen from the motel parking lot.”

Casey grunts and sits back. “Oh yeah. That sucked big time. We were all broke to begin with, and of course, those bastards took off with most of my stuff.”

“Luke said they took the stuff they recognized.”

Casey nods. “Yes, and apparently drums and symbols are pretty obvious even in their cases.”

“Well, thankfully you’ve recovered.”

“Interesting choice.”

Casey and I are both startled by the new voice, and turn to see Luke shuffling toward us, disheveled but alert.

“You couldn’t at least play our good stuff for her?”

“She picked it,” Casey defends.

“I like it,” I say. “Besides we were actually reminiscing about your gear getting stolen.”

 “Please tell me your reminiscing includes coffee,” Luke mumbles.

“Here, dude,” Casey says, passing him the carafe. “There’s food, too.”

Luke grimaces and pours a cup. “Let’s go with coffee first.”

We’re quiet for a moment and the song finishes, forcing the silence even louder. None of us knows how to begin. Especially, since we’re not sure which Luke we have with us at the moment.

“You know, Casey wrote most of that one,” Luke a

Casey just shrugs. “Black sheep, right?” he says with a quick smile of explanation. I have mercy on him and return it. I remember what Luke had said about the meaning of the song, and realize Casey must have a story I’ll need to hear one day, too.

“It’s basically what got us signed,” Luke continues.

“Well, that and our devastating good looks,” Casey jokes, not even acknowledging Luke’s praise. I roll my eyes, and he grins, although he’s probably not far from the truth. It certainly wouldn’t have hurt.

“She thinks it’s pretty,” Casey continues, and a knowing smile flashes across Luke’s face.

“Pretty? ‘Argyle?’ She would.”

“I would? What’s that supposed to mean?” I counter.

Luke shrugs lightly. “Nothing, I’m just not surprised, that’s all.”

I blush a little, not sure what he means by that. “Well, excuse me if I’m not dark and depressing enough for you edgy rockers.”

Luke and Casey exchange another grin, and I cross my arms. “What? What did I do now?”

“Nothing,” Luke replies.

I glance to Casey, but he just shrugs and looks like he’s stifling a laugh.

I glare at them both. “Fine. I should probably get going anyway,” I retort.

“Callie…” Casey grabs my arm as I pass. “We didn’t…”

I pull away and continue on.

“Callie!”

I know I’m being childish as I hide in the extra room, but deep down I’m also smarting from the nerve they struck. The truth is, I really am self-conscious about the fact that I don’t fit in. I act like I’m confident and don’t care, and maybe a lot of the time that’s true, but sometimes, moments like today when I’m tired and coming off a string of trials, I’m too exhausted to be the ambassador. Sometimes I just want them to try to come into my world for once.

A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I glare at the door. I don’t respond, but it doesn’t matter, and I’m surprised when it’s Luke who pokes his head in. He gives me an apologetic look and completes the journey into the room. I still don’t say anything, but shift a bit so he can sit beside me.

“You know we fought over who would come in here,” he begins, and I’m not sure how that helps.

“You lost, I guess?”

He looks surprised and laughs. “No, I won!” he cries in exasperation. “God, Callie, don’t you get it? We don’t want you to be like us! We want you to think our music is pretty and tell us when we’re being assholes. You have to stop thinking that the gap that separates us is because of a shortcoming on your part. Did you ever think that it might be on ours?”

I swallow, floored by his words for so many reasons.

He lets out his breath, staring at the floor. “I can be a major pain-in-the-ass. I know that. Last night…” He shakes his head, and I’m not about to correct him. “Anyway, my point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry for this morning. I have a ton of issues, but I never want you to think you’re one of them, ok?”