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Rebel Rebel by David Bowie
Gabriel and I leave the record store, and on the other side of the parking lot, I see Jack leaning against his black Audi with his arms crossed over his chest, glasses covering his eyes like a hitman. Clearly he was waiting for me
I roll my eyes. “My Jeep’s over there.” I toss the keys to Gabriel and he looks from me to Jack. “Be there in a minute,” I reassure him.
I cross the parking lot, stopping in front of him. “Trying to intimidate a little girl?” I ask.
He might as well be standing on the front porch of his house with a baseball bat, telling me to behave with his daughter at prom.
Jack pushes off from the hood and lowers his glasses, taking a good look at me. “You’re not a little girl.”
“According to some people.” I glance at the store accusatorially, wondering exactly what Cash said to him; the three of them gossiping like teenage girls and I’m accused of being too young.
“What are you doing to Cash?” he asks me. “He’s all in a tizzy in there.” He tips his chin in the direction of the store. Tizzy is not a word I would ever expect to come out of Jack O’Donnell’s mouth.
“What amIdoing?” I huff. “He’s the one that kissed me.” I realize I sound like a brat trying to blame someone else, but hedidkiss me. They must have had a pretty interesting conversation in there.
Jack smirks but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know exactly what I mean.” He pierces me with a knowing stare, but he can’t intimidate me. Clearly I’m not the one with issues.
“Cash is a big boy; he doesn’t need you to speak for him.”
“Look, Sasha, I accept you because you’re Erin’s friend, but Cash is like a brother to me.” He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag, letting the smoke seep out from between his lips before he finishes. “He’s been through a lot, and he doesn’t need some chick messing with his head.”
“Accept me?” I say offended. He acts like I’m an adopted puppy or something. “When I asked Erin to drive back to L.A. with me from Austin, I had no idea I’d be getting involved with lunatic rock stars who intimidate young girls in parking lots.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Besides, you don’t know me or what I’ve been through,” I add.
He holds the cigarette between his teeth and steps forward. “You haven’t even begun to live yet.” He looks me up and down. “Whatever baggage you have,” he pauses, taking a drag of his cigarette, “is not the same.” The smoke billows between us.
I slide my eyes towards the record store, wondering what kind of baggage Cash has, but I know Jack isn’t going to tell me even if I asked. Through the windows I can see the life going on inside that I’ve had the privilege to be a part of. Even if I can’t see Cash from this vantage point, he is vivid in my mind.
I turn back to Jack. “Why does everyone think I’m trying on wedding dresses?” I say, exasperated. “It was just a kiss,” I say, again.
“Because when he falls, he falls hard.” He pierces me with those blue eyes of his. No wonder Erin is a goner. “He’s not a one-night-stand kind of guy.” Jack shifts his weight, looking at me accusatorially likeIamthe one-night-stand type. “He’s the forever kind of guy.”
Butterflies bang against my stomach, and I feel the pull to him even from the parking lot. It’s the same kind of pull I felt when I was homesick in Austin. I missed the slow pace, the quiet mornings; the way the fog rolled away as the sun rose, and the feeling of security that only home can give you. Last night, I saw the look in his eyes, a quiet peace that lay to rest whatever demons he’s been carrying around. It wasn’t me that chased them away, it was the ranch that did.
Jack is right.
Cash is the forever kind of guy.
The thought makes my mouth go dry.
“I’m not telling either of you what to do.”
“Kinda sounds like it.”
The look on his face shuts me up right away.
“Just keep that in mind when you walk in there shaking your ass in front of him,” he warns.
I want to tell him that I don’t shake my ass because I’m not a stripper, but I don’t think he cares.
I don’t know a lot about their history as a band - or as friends. All of that was before my time. I get what Jack is saying and why he feels he needs to protect his friend though. It was just one kiss, but I think we both know it was a hell of a lot more than that.
“You really are an asshole.” I shake my head at him, but I can appreciate that he’s looking out for his friend.
What is strange is that I’m standing in the middle of the parking lot with Jack O’Donnell who’s acting like an overprotective dad, and it’s the most comical thing I’ve ever encountered. But it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever encountered.
I don’t think I’ve ever had friends who would do that for me. Even if Jack is an asshole, I can rationalize it.
