Nick quickly shoved his cell phone back into his back and turned to see Brian coming over. He nodded wordlessly.
Brian surveyed him for a moment, then said, “She’s not gonna get here in time.” It was more statement than question; Nick knew Brian could read him like a book, and the expression on his face probably said it all.
He shook his head. “No,” he replied, his voice hollow.
Brian offered a sympathetic smile and rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder. Plopping down onto the stage beside him, he sighed and said, “I’m sorry, bud. I know how much you wanted her to be here.” Again, Nick nodded, not speaking. He felt Brian’s eyes on him and heard his friend’s soft intake of breath. Sensing Brian was about to say something, he glanced over at him. Brian smiled a little. “’Open Arms’...” he said slowly. “That was supposed to be for her, wasn’t it?”
Nick blinked in surprise and immediately felt himself blushing. “Yeah,” he admitted. What a dork he was. Brian was still smiling at him, probably totally amused by Nick’s feeble attempts to be romantic.
“I knew it.” Brian’s grin grew wider, as did the red flush that was creeping across Nick’s cheeks. “I wondered why you chose that song to sing. I mean, you have a whole album of your own songs and plenty more unreleased ones... and yet you chose a Journey cover? But it was for Claire, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” God, he felt dumb. Maybe he should have just canned the idea and sung “Help Me” instead.
“So... are you going to admit it?”
“Admit what?” Nick asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.
“That you like her? That you’ve liked her for... oh, I dunno... months? Or longer?” Brian grinned.
Nick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I like her,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve liked her for awhile. I thought you would already know.”
“Well, I did already know. I’ve known since... well, since you were in the hospital back in April. The way you look at her... the look says it all, Nicky. I’ve always been able to tell when you’re crushin’ on some girl.” He winked.
Nick smirked. Back to that whole “reading him like a book” thing. Okay, so they had all known. If he’d been that obvious about it, how come Claire didn’t seem to know? Pushing that thought aside, he pressed on, “So you just knew? Howie didn’t tell you?”
“Howie?” Brian repeated, cocking his head. “No. Why, you talked to Howie about her?”
“Yeah,” Nick said with a slight smile, pleasantly surprised to find that Howie had kept that conversation between the two of them. Not that he didn’t trust Howie with his secrets; Howie was probably the best person to tell a secret to. But still, he’d always kind of assumed Howie would mention it to AJ, and once AJ knew, they all would know. But apparently they’d all known anyway, and Howie hadn’t said a word.
He looked over at the others; they had all scattered. Break time, he supposed. He glanced back at Brian. “Yeah, so I take it you don’t know what a screw-up I am then?”
“Um... no? How are you a screw-up?”
Nick sighed and launched into the whole story... how he had kissed Claire in the movie theater, how he’d pushed her away, how he’d tried to just be her friend again, and how he’d failed miserably, making a move on her in Atlanta and pissing her off.
“So anyway,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to her, but... I dunno, you know me – everything I say just comes out wrong. I was afraid if I just tried to talk to her, I’d only mess up again and make things worse. So...”
“’Open Arms’,” Brian smiled.
Nick returned the smile sadly. “Yeah. She, um... well, I know she likes that song. And it kind of... works. You know?” He decided not to mention the night they’d lain side by side, listening to that Journey album of his.
Brian nodded. “Well, I think you should still sing it. Maybe she won’t hear it live, tonight... but she’ll watch it on TV. She’ll know.”
“You think?”
Brian smiled and nodded again. “She’ll love it. Trust me.”
Sometimes, trusting Brian was a scary thing, but in this case, Nick decided to just do it. Trust him. Sing the song after all, Claire or no Claire. And hopefully when she watched on TV... she’d know.
***
The meet and greet that night was different from any Nick had ever done before. He felt like he had a connection with every person in that room, for they all had some kind of disease or disability themselves or were related to someone who did. And he could understand both.
He knew what it was like to see someone you love sick and in pain, possibly even dying. He’d experienced the helplessness, the hopelessness. And even better, he knew what it was like to go through that yourself, to be afraid of dying, or to be so sick you wanted to die. He knew what it was like to be crippled, to struggle to do things you had once done effortlessly, to even relearn to walk. He knew what it was like to be stared at and pitied, to feel ugly and unwanted and useless. And he was just beginning to learn what it was like to overcome all of these things and feel almost “normal” again.
And yet, in that room, on that night, it didn’t matter if he was “normal” or not. He knew that the people who had come to see him perform that night loved him and accepted him. He knew that they even respected him, just as he respected them. It was impossible not to – they’d all gone through the same kinds of things. Even though he didn’t know most of them personally, he felt like each was a kindred spirit.
There was one in particular who really had an effect on him. A little girl, only about nine or ten years old. She used a walker to get around, but to look at her from the waist up, one would never know there was a thing wrong with her. She was a cute girl, brown-haired and blue-eyed, with a shy, sweet smile.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Nick asked, smiling at her when she came up to him.
“Bonnie,” the child answered timidly.
“Well, hi, Bonnie. How are you tonight?”
She grinned. “Fine,” she answered. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” Nick answered honestly, touched that she would even ask. In their rapture at meeting him, many of the usual younger fans seemed to forget he had feelings and simply screamed “I love you, Nick!” while throwing themselves at him in hopes of a hug. “I’m just great. Are you excited for the concert?”
“Uh-huh,” she said eagerly, nodding. “I can’t wait!”
Nick smiled. “Neither can I. So, would you like a hug? Or a picture? Do you have a camera?”
“My mom does.” Looking over her shoulder, she beckoned wildly to a woman standing a few feet away. Smiling knowingly, her mother came over, camera in hand.
“Hi,” Nick said, flashing the woman one of his more charming smiles. “Would you mind taking a picture of Bonnie and I?”
“Well, of course. Go stand by Nick, honey,” the mother told her daughter. It was only when Bonnie walked closer to take her place at Nick’s side that Nick noticed something. Her legs – they were not real. Neither of them. Both were prostheses.
He did a double take, surprised he had not even noticed until now. After all, she was wearing a dress, showing the two artificial legs without shame. But she had such a confidence about her that he’d not even thought to look more closely. He was deeply impressed. Here was a child, a little girl not even half his age, who was missing not one, but both of her legs. And yet, she was walking. He’d had enough trouble just trying to walk with one prosthesis, and she was doing it with two.
“Hang on a minute,” he said, holding a hand up to her mother to signal for her to wait. While Bonnie turned her walker around so that she was standing side by side with Nick, Nick bent over and rolled up his left pant leg, exposing his own prosthesis. “There,” he said, turning to show Bonnie. “Now we’re twins.”
Bonnie’s eyes shone with delight. Her mother’s shone with tears. Smiling, Nick slid his arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and grinned for the camera. “3... 2... 1.” The camera flashed.
As Bonnie thanked Nick and walked away with her mother, Nick realized that was the first time he’d dared to show his prosthetic leg in public. Vaguely, he wondered if that picture would end up all over the internet for the fans to gawk at. He decided he didn’t care. If that little girl could put on a dress to come see him in concert, he had no reason to be ashamed either.
“Yo, Nick!” AJ appeared at his side. He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and eyed Nick over the top of them. “What’s with the one pant leg rolled up? I thought you were done with the whole ghetto ‘gangsta’ act.”
Nick bent over and rolled his pants back down, flustered. “No, I was just-“ he started to explain when he rose back up, but AJ quickly shushed him with a smirk.
“I’m just kidding, dude, I saw the whole thing.” He smiled and hit Nick’s back lightly. “You’re a good guy, Carter.”
Nick smiled embarrassedly, just as another little girl ran up screaming, “I love you, AJ!” and threw herself at him in hopes of a hug. Watching AJ bend down to hug the girl, Nick smirked and shook his head. Typical audience or not, some things never change.
***
