The weekend's playlist was something different, with the exception of Lithium and When You Wish Upon a Star. Without Lithium, I was sure to skip a dose and that would be BAD. There was no point in keeping Beyond the Sea since I didn't work on the weekend. It made sense that my weekend playlist focused on weekend songs. Some people would say I lived in the past, judging by my selected songs. When I say past, I mean way way past, to the time before I was born. Many songs were before my parents' time. They were born in 1962; dead at 40.

If you were to ask me which bands or music were popular today, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I liked the Black Keys, Bon Ivers, and a little Twenty-One Pilots, maybe some others, but that's about it. Oh well. I didn't care. I never cared.

As part of the Beat Generation in the 1950s, my grandfather became a political activist in the sixties. Both grandparents would take my dad and his brothers to protests and sing all the classic folk songs. As a result, my father became obsessed with these songs, teaching me how to play the acoustic guitar at five years old. I learned how to play just about every Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, and Peter, Paul and Mary song. He later taught me how to play others such as Kris Kristofferson, Van Morrison and Cat Stevens' greatest hits. Every time I listened to Cat Stevens' song, Father and Son, tears came to my eyes because my dad always played it for me, and then we played it together as a duet. Nowadays, whenever I felt nostalgic, I'd sit alone and play it on my guitar.

This morning, I felt weird, and I couldn't explain why. I couldn't even explain what "weird" felt like, but there was something different about today. Maybe it was because I was meeting Levi for a drink after Shabbat service. I hadn't been on a date in a long time. I assumed it was a date. Maybe my assumption was incorrect.

Despite Aunt Ruth standing in the doorway, dressed and ready to go, I sang Father and Son, sitting on my bed in my bathrobe. I had to get the song out of my system. Listening to me play, Aunt Ruth didn't speak until I finished.

"You haven't played that in a long time," she said as I leaned my guitar against the bed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said quietly, walking past her and down the hall to the bathroom. The tears would come once I was in the shower.

"You'll tell me if you aren't okay, right?"

"Yep," I said, closing the bathroom door. I rarely ever told anybody when I wasn't okay. Rather, I kept everything bottled up inside until I exploded, landing in the hospital.

While my father preferred the Cat Stevens' version of Another Saturday Night, Sam Cooke deserved the honor of making it to my playlist. After all, he sang it first. Sam Cooke had been a staple on my playlist for years.

After service, I went to the local pub where I was supposed to meet Levi... only Levi wasn't there. At first, I waited outside, but my ears were about to fall off from the cold, so I decided to wait inside and look like a loser, sitting alone with a beer in one of the only open booths. Tapping my foot impatiently, I stared at the clock on my phone as if that would make Levi appear. I'd kill him if he stood me up. Maybe I wouldn't kill him, but I'd certainly never speak to him again. As far as I was concerned, he'd just be another tenant.

Fifteen minutes later, Levi entered the pub, wearing the same peacoat and scarf he wore yesterday. Smiling, he walked directly to my booth. I noticed he had one dimple instead of two.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, unraveling his scarf before sitting across from me. "My last lesson went longer than expected. First off, the kid is always late, and he has ADHD, so it takes him another ten minutes to focus. He's the last kid on my schedule for a reason. So, how are you? It's busy here, huh?" he said, fidgeting with the silverware wrapped in the napkin. He rolled it and unrolled it over and over.

"One question at a time," I said. "I can't keep up. I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm good."

I had a feeling this conversation was going to be very awkward and wasn't looking forward to it, although Levi was nice to look at. He had a nice voice, too. I bet he was a great singer.

"Why'd it take you so long to graduate from college?" I'd been dying to ask this question.

"It's damn expensive," he said, looking down at his silverware. What was so fascinating about silverware? "I worked in between classes and semesters. I'm a session musician, too. Did I tell you that? Since graduating, I've gotten more gigs, which is good, but I like teaching, too. I have a YouTube channel. Maybe you could subscribe."

Levi talked a lot, jumping from one thing to another. It was sort of amusing, but the fidgeting was driving me crazy.

"I'm not on social media. Are you nervous?" I asked, reaching for the silverware. "You don't even know me, and I'm already creeping you out."

"You're not creeping me out," he said, looking up, his eyes meeting mine across the table. "What color are your eyes? They look blue, but kind of green and gray, too. They're interesting."

"They're more blue than green or gray," I said.

"They're pretty," he said and quickly looked back down again. "Sorry. I always say stupid shit. It's not everyday I meet someone like you."

"I don't think anybody wants to meet someone like me. Let's talk about something more interesting, like music. That was the plan, right? You know what today is? It's Saturday, and that means it's a Sam Cooke kind of day... a Sam Cooke night."

"Sam Cooke's great," he said. "Music means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"Music means a lot to my family, and it's what keeps me going."

"My parents wanted me to be a doctor, but don't all parents want their kids to be doctors or lawyers? My dad blamed himself for buying me a drum kit when I was eight years old."

"Do you have a lot of followers?"

"You mean subscribers? I have almost a thousand."

"Maybe I'll check it out," I said. "What do you do on YouTube?"

"I post music videos of me and the band... and drum and guitar instructions... stuff like that. My lesson on When the Levee Breaks got a lot of views. You know the song, right?"

"Sure, it's classic Led Zeppelin. Do you write your own music?"

"Yes, but I haven't posted any. I think about it, but then I chicken out. If I sang like you, I wouldn't hesitate."

"I bet you have a great voice," I said.

He shook his head, looking back down. "I feel safer behind a drum kit."

"What was the first song you learned to play on the drums?"

"Come as You Are."

If he was a Nirvana fan, then he should have known when Kurt Cobain died. Or maybe his drum teacher made him learn it, and he wasn't really a fan.

I didn't expect to spend two hours chatting with Levi. We even ordered lunch after the initial awkwardness dissipated.

"I was thinking that if you aren't busy later, you could come to my gig tonight. I'll drive."

"Well, if you're driving."

I had never been to a jazz club and looked forward to going. In fact, I'd never been to any clubs. It could be interesting.

***

Shirtless, I searched my closet for something to wear. I had lots of clothes and too many choices. What do you wear to a jazz club?

"You're going out again?" Aunt Ruth asked.

"Yeah."

"You just met this boy and he's a tenant. It doesn't feel right."

How many times could she remind me that Levi was our tenant?

"Stop reminding me that he's a tenant," I said. "Who cares? Relax, Ruthie. I'm just going to see his band."

"You like him more than a friend, don't you?"

"I don't know," I said, choosing a black button down fitted shirt. "It'd bother you if I did, wouldn't it?"

"I just don't know him," she said, ignoring my question. If she had her way, I'd settle down with a nice Jewish girl and have cute little Jewish children, but we knew that would never happen.

"How do I look?" I asked after buttoning up my shirt.

"Handsome... as always," she said. "Be careful, Ezra."

Be careful? She was driving me crazy with her overprotective bullshit.

"Yeah, I'll be careful," I assured her.

When Levi and I arrived at the club, three men were tuning their guitars while one man held a saxophone and his friend, Isaiah, sat at the piano, scanning sheet music. Levi and Isaiah were younger than the other men. One looked old enough to be their father. The others were in their thirties or forties. I was terrible at guessing people's ages.

"Hey," Levi said. "This is my friend, Ezra. He's going to hang out and watch. This is Dan and Pete on the guitars, Mike on bass, Jimmy on sax, and Isaiah here on the piano."

They barely acknowledged me. It was like they were annoyed Levi brought me. I had an urge to run away, but I stuck it out, wandering around the small stage. Although I sang in front of people all the time, I'd never been on a stage before, not even a small one like this. Standing in the front of the stage, I tapped the microphone and giggled like an idiot.

"Hello.... hello... hello," my voice echoed.

"Ezra's a musician," Levi said, sitting behind his drum kit. "He's got an incredible voice. Sing something," he said to me.

Not prepared to perform in front of these experienced, established musicians, I shook my head.

"Levi, we don't have time for this," the older man, Mike, said.

"I doubt he can sing our type of music, anyway," Isaiah said.

"I don't know about that," Levi said. "I bet he can sing anything."

I didn't appreciate Isaiah's comment. To prove a point, and since it was a Sam Cooke kind of night, I chose to sing Bring It On Home to Me without waiting for permission from anyone. Within a minute, I was no longer singing a cappella. Rather, Levi's band had joined me, and it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. I'd never sung in a band.

As everyone sat in silence, I almost regretted singing. Almost.

"Wow... just wow," Dan or Pete said. I couldn't remember who was who.

"I told you," Levi said.

"Let's do that tonight," Isaiah said.

"You want me to sing with you in front of everyone?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's just a small audience," Isaiah said.

"You'll be great," Levi said.

It didn't take much more convincing.
I must have been good because I received a standing ovation and the band invited to sing with them again. I neither accepted nor declined the invitation. I had to think about it.

"Well, everyone loves you," Levi said as I walked with him to his apartment. "Maybe you could be our special guest once in awhile."

"Yeah, I had fun," I said, my heart beating faster as we approached his door. It was more than a little fun. It was one of the best nights of my life.

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" he asked.

Oh, no, the question I dreaded all night. Each time I agreed to "come in" after a date, things never went well. Intimacy wasn't really my thing with the exception of a few awkward blow jobs and hand jobs.

I made a girl orgasm once, which was a proud moment for me at twenty years old. Hmm... what was her name? Rebecca Arsenault. I met her as a psych patient. She, too, was a patient and crazier than I was. While we were patients, I went down on her in the unisex bathroom. The idea of getting caught turned her on.

"I don't think so," I said.

"Just one drink?"

I hesitated, biting my bottom lip. Deep down, I wanted to go inside in the worst way, but I didn't want to mess things up.

"Look, Ezra, I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I thought we could have a drink and maybe listen to some Sam Cooke."

"Um... uh... well..." I stammered, standing at the top of the stairs.

"Come on," he said, swinging the door open.

"One drink and a couple of songs," I said, walking down the stairs.

"Sit down," Levi said, inviting me to sit on his couch.

Most of Levi's clothes were too big for him (I think that's the way he liked it), including his jeans. As he crouched on the floor, sifting through his records, he accidentally exposed his ass crack. Amused and turned on, I looked away.

As Sam Cooke spun on the turntable, Levi handed me a glass of red wine. Drinking and psychotropic medication didn't mix well, but I didn't always do things I was supposed to do. He sat close to me, as I expected (and feared) he would. He worked fast, too. Just as his lips brushed against my cheek, I jumped to my feet.

"What I'd do?" he said.

"I knew it. You just invited me in to fuck me."

"Hey, Ezra," he said, standing up. "All I did was kiss you, and I didn't even do that. I kissed your cheek. Did something happen to you? Did a guy hurt you or something because the way you're looking at me now... well, you're making me feel like I'm about to hurt you and that wasn't my intention. I wanted to kiss you, and I thought maybe you wanted to kiss me, too. What's the big deal?"

I didn't know what to say. No guy had ever hurt me, that I could remember, anyway.

"I'm going home," I said.

With nothing more than a goodnight, I went home, regretting that I didn't kiss him back. But I couldn't. I freaked out whenever I was almost intimate with anyone, and I just met this guy and I liked him and I didn't want to mess things up, but I had a feeling I already did.

***

The sun had barely come up when I woke to a tap on my window. Living on the first floor, my friends—when I had friends—would come through the window whenever I was grounded. I had also invited a girl or two, and maybe a boy, to my room in the middle of the night. Living on the first floor was convenient, especially since Aunt Ruth and Uncle David lived on the second floor.

From my bed, I stretched my arms, opening the blinds, only to find Levi standing there in the same clothes he wore the night before. As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, I nearly forgot I was naked. Quickly, I grabbed the blanket and held it up to my waist with one hand as I opened my window.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"Um... uh... oh, wow..." Levi said, his eyes drawn to my near naked body. "Don't you wear pajamas?"

"Sometimes I get hot at night. What are you doing at my window? It's kind of creepy."

"So? You were at my window Friday night. Did I mess up?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I tried to kiss you..."

"Oh, yeah, that," I said, my body growing hot again despite the cool air.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing hard. "I need to know if you like me. I hate mind games."

"Yeah, I like you," I said.

"Then why'd you pull away from me and look at me like I had an infectious disease?"

"It takes me a long time to warm up to a person. Why didn't you come to the front door?"

"I didn't want your aunt questioning me again. Besides, it's six in the morning. I've been up all night."

"I made you feel like shit, didn't I?" I said, leaning out the window so I was closer to him.

"Yes, actually, you did."

"I'm sorry. I always do that to people I like."

I dropped the blanket as I combed his fingers through my hair. The window sill shielded the lower half of my body. My heart raced, my body reacting as I brought my lips to his. Levi held my face, returning my kiss. He kissed me like no one had ever kissed me. I thought he was going to pull me out the window. I broke away from him, reaching for the blanket.

"Go home and get some sleep," I said, my lips still tingling.

"Can I see you again?"

"You only live twenty feet away, so I'm sure we'll see each other all the time."

Levi continued to stand there as I shut the window. I waved goodbye before closing the blinds.

A/N Every time I listen to Father and Son, tears come to my eyes, too.

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