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“So who’s this guy in your English class?”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling, but it’s too hard.
“You think it’s funny?”
“Oh, come on. It’s just some guy who sits next to me in English. I noticed him drawing some comics and asked if he could draw something for me.”
“What did you offer him in exchange for the drawing?”
“What do you think I offered him?”
He’s silent as he waits for me to answer the question.
“I offered him five bucks.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it. Can we change the subject now?”
He pats the cushion next to him. “Come here.” I let out a huge sigh, then I scoot over until I’m next to him. “It drives me crazy knowing you have this whole other life at school.”
“You have a whole other life at home. You didn’t even pick me up from school all last week because you were doing God knows what with Jake and Rachel.”
“Doing God knows what?” he replies incredulously. “We were looking for a cheap sound studio to record a demo. We need some digital files if we’re going to book gigs.”
“Whatever. The point is that I’m the one who should be jealous. I heard Tristan talking about taking you with him to the ice rink where he met that new girl a couple of weeks ago. I’m not stupid. I know what that means.”
“You think I want to hang out with Tristan at a fucking ice rink?”
“I don’t know. He’s always asking you to go places with him and he always looks annoyed when you bring me. That’s why I haven’t been going anywhere with you guys lately.”
“Fuck Tristan. Don’t let his shitty attitude keep you from hanging out. If I ask you to come, it’s because I want you with me. And I don’t give a shit what Tristan wants.”
“But he’s your best friend.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He doesn’t blink after he says this. He just waits for my reaction.
I let out a huge sigh of relief, then I climb into his lap and rest my head on his shoulder.
Forever Dreaming
March, 2010
Dreams do come true.
I get the call from John Garrety at one in the afternoon. By two-thirty, I’ve packed the blue suitcase my mom keeps in the garage and stopped by my mom’s bakery to give her the good news.
“Eighteen days!” she cries, slamming down a block of cold butter onto the steel workstation.
The warm, sugary smell of the bakery always reminds me of when I was seven and my mom first bought this place. She used to bring me here after school until I was ten and I insisted I could stay home alone for a few hours after school. I’d sit at a steel table in the corner of the kitchen and do my homework while watching my mom shape bread loaves and pipe frosting onto cupcakes.
My mom’s always been a workaholic and a bit of a perfectionist. Which is probably where I get my work ethic. I may have dropped out of school, but that’s only because I have bigger things planned for my life than sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about coefficients and revolutionary wars.
My work ethic is what got me, Tristan, and Jake our first mini-tour as the Blue Knights. John Garrety is a promoter for some local blues clubs and a couple of local indie bands. He liked our demo so much, and the fact that we’re so young, that he booked us a few shows in Florida and Tennessee. Even without a manager.
I grab the block of butter out of my mom’s hand before she can hit me with it. “It’s just two weeks and a few days. I’ll be back before you know it.” She narrows her eyes at me. “And I’ll be with Jake and Rachel. You know they won’t let me get into trouble.”
She shakes her head as if she can’t believe what I’m suggesting. “Eighteen days is a long time. What about Claire?”
“What do you mean? She always takes the bus to and from school when I can’t take her.”
She raises her eyebrows. She wasn’t referring to how Claire was going to get to and from school.
“She’ll be fine,” I assure her.
Her shoulders slump. “Oh, fine. But you’d better call us every morning and night.”
“I will.” I give her a big hug and some of the powdered sugar on her apron sticks to my T-shirt. “I gotta go. I have to pick up Claire. See you later.”
By the time I get Claire home, my stomach is wound so tight I can hardly breathe. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her that I’m leaving for eighteen days.
She lays all her books and notes out on the kitchen table to start her homework. I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge for her and place it on the table next to her math book.
“Thanks.” She guzzles almost half the bottle in one sip. “What did you do today?”
“I ran around town a little. Actually, I have something I want to show you. Upstairs.”
She scrunches her eyebrows together. “Why don’t you just bring it down here?”
“I can’t. Can you just come up with me for a sec?”
She shrugs and stands from the table. Then she follows me up the stairs to my bedroom. When I open the door, she sees the blue suitcase lying on my bed.
She looks confused and her eyes immediately get watery. “Is that for me?”
“No! Shit! I didn’t think this through. No, it’s not for you. It’s for me.”
She clutches her chest and lets out a sigh of relief. “Jesus. You scared the shit out of me. Wait. What do you mean, it’s for you? Where are you going?”
I turn to her and grab both her hands. “I’m going to Florida and Tennessee to do a few shows.”
Her eyes widen. “Are you serious? Did someone pick up the demo? That’s amazing!”
“No, no. Don’t get excited yet. It hasn’t been picked up, but it did score us a few paid gigs. That promoter I was telling you about a couple of weeks ago set it up.”
“So you’re just going to play some shows, then you’re coming back, right?”
I nod vigorously. “Yes, I’ll be back in eighteen days.”
“Eighteen days!”
I take her face in my hands and she glares at me. “Claire, it will be over before you know it. You’ll probably be glad to have some time away from me.” I kiss the corner of her mouth and she shakes her head.
“Why? Are you going to be glad to have some time away from me?”
I keep one hand clasped around the back of her neck as my other hand drops to her waist, then I lay a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m gonna miss the fuck out of you.”
Her lips part as I slide my tongue into her mouth. I tease her a little, sucking on her tongue and her top lip until she lets out a soft, involuntary whimper. I move my hand up the side of her waist and over her ribs until it’s brushing up against the bottom of her breast.
“Chris,” she whispers into my mouth. “I … We can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
I kiss her jaw and the quickened sound of her breathing is getting me excited. I walk slowly backward, pulling her along with me. Then I ease her down onto the bed.
She’s trembling.
I tilt my head back so I can look at her face. “Are you okay?” She’s staring at my shirt, so I tilt her chin up. “Talk to me.”
“I’m gonna miss you.”
I brush my thumb over her cheekbone and she smiles. “I’d rather you miss me than forget me.”
“Forget you? In eighteen days?” she replies with a chuckle.
I swallow hard and gaze into her eyes for a moment, then I lean in to kiss her. She sucks in a sharp breath as if she’s surprised and I slide my hand under her shirt to touch her skin.
“Chris?”
“I want you…. I want to leave you something to think about while I’m gone.”
She repeats my name as a soft plea, but her arms tighten around my neck as I kiss her ear.
“I want to invade the space all around you until everywhere you look all you see is me.” I t
race my tongue along the delicate curves of her ear and she sighs. “I want to occupy the space inside you until you don’t know the difference between my heartbeat and yours. I want to be your everything.”
I slide my leg between hers and she grabs the sides of my face to push my head back.
“How do you do that?” she asks, her hungry gaze focused on my lips.
“What?”
“How do you always know the right thing to say?”
“I’ve been practicing that for days.”
“You’re such a jerk!” She pushes me away and sits up on the bed.
I laugh as I sit up next to her. “I was only practicing because I wanted to get it right. I meant every word.” She shakes her head as I lean in to whisper in her ear. “You’re my everything. I want to be your everything, too.”
She turns to me and her expression is stony. “What about all the girls that are going to want to be your everything once they see you on that stage?”
I look into her blue eyes and I can’t help but smile. “There’s no room in my heart for anyone else but you… my Claire-bear.”
She rolls her eyes. “There’s no room in your heart, but is there any room left in your pants?”
