AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That was the night I fell in love. And the love-fest continued, for my part. I crushed hard. Thought about him all the time; about how nice he was, how genuine and sweet. And Jake was super hot. Untouchably gorgeous. In my mind, that night was a fluke. He was the hot lead singer of my new favorite band, and I was their biggest fan.
+++
About six months later, I was at another Analog Controller show. It was my third one. The second had taken place the night before, but I hadn't see Jake until he went on stage. He'd become this wonderful, ethereal thing: elevated and totally beyond my grasp. So, I never imagined that he did mundane things, like go to the store, or work, or walk on the earth like the rest of us mere mortals. He was superior and I'd resigned myself to worship from afar. So, during their set that second night, I hid in the back of the club, too twisted in nauseating-knots to actually make my way up front. That was the first time I had seen him since that day at the pizza pub. They never played there again.
When I went to that third show, I was kicking myself for not seeking him out the night before and had determined I was going to set my nerves aside and try to talk with Jake again. But I was also sure I'd make a fool of myself. I had decided to wait for a sign. A look or nod that would indicate he remembered me. I knew he had to meet people all the time and I didn't want to be one of those girls who could recite an entire conversation that he'd never remember.
Well, I got my sign: standing in back of a dive bar called Aces, waiting for Avery to come out of the bathroom. The floor was sticky. I was holding Avery's soda because she didn't wanna infect it with the germs of the public restroom.
I was wearing an Analog Controller t-shirt that I got printed at a shop in the mall, then chopped the sleeves and shredded the back. The bottom was cropped and tied above my waist. Avery had helped with my makeup that night, so I wore more than unusual.
The air inside the club was choking me. The whole place smelled like the smoke machine was set to kill-a fog of cat litter and ammonia that burned my retinas. I was wiping underneath my eye, hoping my mascara was waterproof when a figure approached. I didn't think anything of it, until it stopped a few feet away.
He was an outline of smoke and shadow: a shapeless form exuding a raw, decadent energy. When I looked up, I was dumbfounded, watching Jake take the last few steps to stand beside me. He was wearing leather pants . . . very nice leather pants; breath-stealing leather pants that fit like they were made for him. He leaned his shoulders against the wall at my back, but kept his hips forward.
"Hey, Angel. Got any Jack in that Coke?" He reached out a hand and flicked my glass with his index finger.
I had never been a blusher, but heat flooded my cheeks. He'd uttered my name in a way that made it sound illicit.
"No. No. It's . . . diet."
I looked down, my eyes landing on his jutting hips. His pants were so . . . awesome. The way they hung so well on his hips did things to my insides. When I looked up, his eyes were glued to my face and he was smirking. I'd been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to and my cheeks continued blazing well after I took a keen interest in the floor.
It suddenly seemed like an eternity since Avery went into the bathroom. I wanted to run in there, to tell her it wasn't a dream, I was talking to Analog Controller's totally hot lead singer and he remembered my name.
I thought about him all the time-replayed our one conversation in my head-and as any fan knows, when you go to shows, the fans are the ones who go looking for the band. Not the other way around. In my mind, Analog was the greatest band in the history of the world and Jake was a huge star, although most people outside our area had never heard of them. And he was there, standing right beside me, sliding his shoulder along the wall as he smiled and made light conversation. He kept staring at my shirt.
Aerosmith played on from speakers in the background. Steven Tyler howled to heaven, begging his angel to save him.
"I've never seen that before." Jake extended one finger, navigating towards me. "My face is on your chest."
"I wore it at last nights' show."
"You were in Duncan?" His eyes widened.
I nodded, wishing Avery would come out and help me make conversation.
"I wish I'd seen you. It looks good like that." My heartbeat skipped when his hand grazed the frayed seam on my sleeve. I felt the small calluses-little rough edges on otherwise soft fingertips. They skimmed the line of my shoulder, leaving a trail of fire.
I had no idea what to do. So I just stood there, gushing how my friend, whose name had slipped my mind, helped to cut my shirt just the way I liked it. She was wicked with a pair of scissors. I think she modified practically every piece of clothing she ever wore-very Molly Ringwald of her, except she didn't dabble in pink. She was a total t-shirt and jeans chick, like me, but her shirts and jeans held something wild. I was always taking her clothes.
Jake sighed, looking past me at something or someone further down the hallway.
"Hey, I gotta go, but thank you for coming." He pulled a flat square from his back pocket and handed it to me. "This is our new EP. For you. Until next time." He patted my head before walking away with my heart. I wondered if he felt the weight of it in his hands the way I did and hoped.
+++
All through that first year, Jake and I barely knew each other. We didn't really get to hang out. I never saw him around school or in town-he'd graduated at the end of my freshmen year and I was a sophomore when we started talking that night at the pizza pub. And Jake lived with his mom in Eager, the next town over. Plus, I was too shy to ask about visitation beyond the casual run-ins. So our get-to-know-you phase happened in spurts. We'd hang out after shows in smoky night clubs that I had to buy a fake ID to get into, in parking lots, sometimes back alleys.
Jake Haddon remained my extracurricular male fantasy. I listened to the EP's he gave me every day and thought about him all the time; when I would sit in the library during study hall or passing the band room. There was a picture of him in a glass case in the school office. He was in the orchestra. First chair on the Cello. I found his face in the first row, third from the end on the left. I still remember the way he looked in the dress shirt and bow tie. His lovely face got better with age.
4
-Angel
There's a distinct clicking sound. It's distracting. Then, the sweet tang of cinnamon invades my nostrils. Once I realize the source is my lawyer, Mister Brandon crunching on a breath mint, I can focus again.
Staring blankly at the walls in the interview room-feeling the restraints on my wrists, as my minds' eye holds that moment in the smoky corridor-I see myself watching Jake walk away. "Analog Controller used to post flyers all over town. I would take the ones with pictures on them and spend hours staring at Jacob Haddon. I made a scrap book and filled it with pages of flyers and some Polaroids I took at their shows." It made me feel closer to him.
