“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”
He started for the kitchen and paused. “Just to be clear…the rod is your fishing rod, Brooks. Not your dick.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Call it what you wanna call it, brother. Either way, I’m bringing it. Bring your guitar, too. We can go over some chords and lyrics for the next album.” His face lit up. I’d never known someone who got so excited about work—well, other than me.
An hour later we took the boat out on the water and shut off the engine in the middle of the lake. It was peaceful, not another boat around. Then, we started drinking more. Nothing better than day drinking with your boys, on a boat in Wisconsin. It was a requirement to live in the state.
“You know, I’m a bit worried about the band,” Oliver said as we sat. The three of them were wasted out of their minds, and for some reason, I’d become the one to make sure they didn’t kill themselves. Every time we took a shot, I had my faithful beer can beside me, which I’d used as a fake chaser where I’d spit the disgusting shot out.
“Yeah? Why’s that, Oli?” I asked.
“Well, see, I never wanted to have a girl group, and it’s pretty alarming that lately three-fourths of the team has been growing vaginas.”
“What?”
“It’s pretty pathetic, and frankly, weird as fuck. I mean, you couldn’t even go twenty-four hours without calling Stacey, Calvin. Brooks, don’t think I didn’t notice you snapchatting to Maggie. And my twin is currently in love with a plant, though, knowing his weird love for Mother Nature, I’m not that surprised.”
I glanced over at Rudolph, who was hugging the potted plant he dragged along with him. “Her name is Nicole, and she’s beautiful,” he slurred with pride.
“See what I mean? My friends are turning into little babies, and I fear soon enough we’ll be writing songs about marriage and diapers.”
I laughed. “It
’s not that serious, Oliver.”
He waved his hands in the air. “Brooks Tyler Griffin. You were on Snapchat. Sticking your tongue out. Pretending you were a fucking dog.”
I narrowed my eyes and kept fishing. “For the record, yes, I was on Snapchat, but I was snapping to our fans. You remember them? The people who support us? It’s important to give them a piece of me, Oli. You should take notes. That’s why the fans like me more than you.”
“Ha! Doubtful. Plus, when did you start saying, ‘I love you, Maggie,’ in a dog voice to your fans? I get it—some people’s fandoms have names. Demi Lovato has Lovatics. Justin has the Beliebers. Beyoncé has her Beyhive. But I mean, ‘I love you, Maggie’ just doesn’t roll off of the tongue as well.”
I turned to flip Oliver off, and he flipped me two of his own birds.
Touché.
The sky was growing cloudy, and the water was still. The only noise around was the four of us shouting whenever we thought we caught a fish—which we never did. Looking backward, I could hardly see the huge cabin, and looking forward, I could somewhat notice the town stores. Perfect location. All we could hear was the water moving ever so slightly.
“All kidding aside, I’m really happy for you and Stacey, Cal,” Oliver said, picking up Calvin’s guitar and having no damn clue how to play a chord.
“You think management is gonna be pissed?” Calvin asked.
“Ha! Of course they are. One of the lead singers of The Crooks tying the knot, breaking hundreds of hearts around the word? Management is going to try their damn hardest to talk you out of it.”
“Yeah, I figured. But well, they are already pissed at us for missing shows. Might as well piss them off a bit more to see how many gray hairs we can give them.” Calvin snatched his guitar from Oliver’s hands and walked over to me as I sat behind the steering wheel. I picked up my guitar too and started playing the intro to our song “Split Ends”. He joined in, playing on his guitar. Oliver started singing the lyrics, and Rudolph just kept talking to his plant. Working with your best friends could’ve easily caused issues, but that wasn’t the case with my band. Other than the twins arguing with one another, we worked together effortlessly. Sure, we disagreed sometimes, but it was never over something we couldn’t fix.
We stayed out on the water all afternoon. As the sky got darker, we started working on new lyrics. Our creativity was almost unstoppable when we got into our happy music zone. When the first raindrop hit us, Calvin suggested we finish back at the cabin, so I started up the boat’s engine to begin the voyage home.
It only took a few minutes before the sky turned black, and rain started hammering against us. Rudolph jumped on the edge of the boat and held Nicole in the air. “Yes, my darling! Drink it all up! Drink up the water of Mother Nature!”
“It’s a fake plant, you idiot,” Oliver bellowed over the rain. “It doesn’t need water!”
“Don’t listen to the lonely boy, Nicole. My brother’s never been in love with anything, besides tacos.”
“Tacos are life!” Oliver shouted, shaking his fists in appreciation as a flash of lightning struck over our heads. “I love you, tacos!”
“So,” Calvin said, rocking back and forth beside me as we headed for home. “Want to be my best man?” he yelled over the winds.
I wiped water from my face. “I already bought my tuxedo, dude. Me being your best man was a given.”