Authors: April Emerson
The café is painted red with an exposed brick wall, and there
are several large windows facing out onto the street. Paintings, which appear
to have been done by local artists, decorate the room. Kat and I pass the time
by people watching. I feel the earth stop when I recognize a couple sitting by
the far window. It’s Jason and
Skye
.
He’s still wearing his gym clothes, and she has sunglasses
on in spite of the rainy weather
.
Her arms are folded across her chest
and she looks pissed. Jason is talking with her, and he looks annoyed as well.
I’m tempted to run out of the café, but I can’t keep doing that. I need to deal
with whatever comes.
Finally, we arrive at the counter. Kat orders a cappuccino
and a cranberry muffin, and I order
a mocha
and a
chocolate croissant. We find an empty table across the room from Jason and
Skye. I chat with Kat about her family and mine, half listening, half looking
toward Jason and Skye. I distract myself with immediate details—the food I’m
eating is sweet and good—the café feels cozy with the rain falling outside…
Skye raises her voice, but I can’t make out what she said.
She pushes her chair away from the table, grabs her bag, and leaves. Jason
places his head in both hands, looking down at the table. He stands to leave
also, and I put my hood up in a feeble attempt to hide myself. For once, the gods
have mercy on me. He doesn’t stop to look around. He walks straight out,
slouched over, with his hands in his pockets. I see him go out into the rain
and walk toward his apartment.
Kat shakes her head and laughs at his display. “That dude
may be my brother-in-law one day. What a fucking mess.”
We finish our breakfast and I say goodbye as she heads home.
Back at my apartment, I text Lydia.
Hey,
hope u had fun last
nite
! What are you up to after
work?
I sit down at my desk to set up my laptop, and
she
texts me back.
Yeah
it was great! Dinner and a movie at my
brother’s
tonight?
Going to Jason’s
home
while trying to stay away from
him is a terrible idea, but I want to hang out with Lydia.
Who’s
gonna
be there?
Kat, Ben, and Alana.
She doesn’t mention Jason or Skye. I have bittersweet
feelings knowing I won’t see him, but it’s for the best. I check my email and there
are several from my mom, one from Aunt Louise, and one from my old friend Vera.
I reply to them all with pleasantries about my new life in the city. After that’s
done I start to feel like myself again. I unpack some more of my clothes,
organize my tiny closet, and lie down on the bed to relax and read for a bit.
When I look at the clock again, it’s
six.
I text Lydia again.
I’ll
be ready in 20
Lydia replies to my text fifteen minutes later.
I’m
here already,
makin
’ veggie lasagna—sent Jason to
pick you up, don’t want you to walk in the rain—XO
I grab my bag and my umbrella and head downstairs.
My stomach is in knots. I light a cigarette
and wait. The rain is just a drizzle now. My hair is getting too frizzy. I
re-apply lip gloss.
My eyes flash to
every car that drives down the block. It’s been ten minutes. I start stomping
my feet in the nearest puddle, out of frustration and boredom, and then I see a
black car speeding down the block.
It’s
Jason’s Charger.
His tires screech
as he stops at the curb.
I take a
deep breath in a vain attempt to calm myself. I exhale, and open the door.
When I slide into the seat, I’m
immediately hit with his scent.
“Hey,” he greets me.
“Hey.”
“Were you enjoying that puddle?”
I look up at him and his grin takes my breath away.
“Thanks for picking me up. I could
have walked.”
“I’ve been Lydia’s big brother for a long time, and one thing
I’ve learned. If she wants something, you give it to her.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
We’re still parked at the curb. I try to read his face. He stares
out of the windshield.
“So, Jason—”
“I like your boots.”
“What? Oh, thanks.”
A simple compliment
makes me catch fire.
He
shifts the car into gear and we head down the avenue. The silence between us is
heavy.
Jason puts on the stereo and
a song plays softly.
“What are you listening to?”
“
May This Be Love
by Jimi
Hendrix.
I can change it if you don’t like it.”
“No, it’s nice. I like it.”
He turns it up.
“This is one of my favorite songs actually. The soft
drumming and the melody feel perfect in this weather.” I look out my window at
the rain-soaked streets.
Jason starts speeding. He takes the car way above the thirty
mile an hour limit, and I wonder if it’s because he can’t wait to get rid of
me.
We pull up in front of his
building. Jason throws the car in park. The rain beats on the roof and on the
windshield, and the beautiful music continues to play from Jason’s speakers.
We sit there, silent except for the
sound of our breathing. The car is filled with Jason’s cologne and unspoken
tension.
I start to feel that pull
to him. He’s gripping the wheel and out of the corner of my eye I see him
clenching his jaw.
I’m chickening
out. I can’t have this conversation, and he’s not going to start.
I put my hand on the door handle to
exit.
“You smell nice,” he says.
“What?”
“I like your perfume. It smells, sweet…” He runs his fingers
over his face, still not looking at me.
“Thanks. You smell nice, too.”
I’m wrestling with whether or not we should talk, when
really I just want to touch him.
“Listen, Jason—” I begin.
“I have to go,” he cuts me off. “I’m late. Have fun with
Lydia
.
”
“All right.
What are you doing
tonight?” I can’t help that I’m curious about what his plans are, and who he’ll
be with. Part of me feels this unexplained ownership of him, even though we
barely know each other.
“Playing pool at Alexa’s.”
His
reply is short. He’s still looking away from me.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later then. Thanks for the ride.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
I get out and run to the front door. I stop to turn around,
and watch Jason pull away.
When I get to the top of the stairs, Lydia opens the
apartment door. She’s wearing an apron with little ketchup bottles on it.
“Did Jason leave? He’s acting weird today. Are you hungry?
Do you want some wine? I brought red and white.” Lydia hurls a flurry of
questions at me as we walk into the kitchen.
“I’ll have some red, thanks.”
The apartment smells like garlic and onions.
My stomach growls.
I’m starving.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
“Yeah, can you make a salad? Everything’s on the counter.”
“Sure.”
I chop lettuce and we cook, chat and drink. When Kat, Ben
and Alana show up, we eat and then move to the living room to watch
Fast Times at
Ridgemont
High.
Lydia does an amazing
Spicoli
impression,
and we all crack up getting drunker by the minute. After the movie, Lydia and I
sit and talk in the kitchen while Kat cleans up, and Ben and Alana hang out in
the living room. She tells me stories about her friends, some of whom I met at
the show. I debate bringing up the Jason situation with her. I feel really
guilty keeping it secret, but I don’t know if Jason would want her to know. I
feel that it was just a one-time, drunken thing, which Jason obviously regrets,
but the wine makes me bold so I broach the subject.
“You said Jason was acting weird earlier, do you know why?”
I ask.
“No, he didn’t want to talk about it. Why? Do you know
something?”
“I saw him at a café on Bedford today, and it looked as if
he was fighting with Skye.”
“Well, that must be it then. Maybe they broke it off. That
would be good in the long run—she’s trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you see her at the show? She was such a mess! I don’t
want her around my brother.”
Lydia seems so protective of him, I wonder if
she’d be mad if she found out I kissed him.
Ben and Alana say
goodnight and head out. Lydia and Kat curl up together on the couch, but it’s
clear they want to be alone.
Lydia yawns.
“It’s
getting late. We’re
gonna
crash in Ben’s bed since he’s
staying at Alana’s. You can sleep here, or I can call you a cab. Or can you
wait for Jay to come home and get a ride from him.”
I could walk or take a cab, but the idea of seeing Jason
again is very tempting. “I guess I’m going to stay.”
Lydia makes the couch up for me, and heads to Ben’s room.
The wine has made my eyes heavy, and I have no problem falling asleep…
I’m standing in the rain. I see him walking away from
her, toward me. He stops right in front of me, not even an inch away. He’s so
close and the rain is dripping off his hair, down his chin. His shirt is
clinging to him with the moisture. I put out my hand to touch him, but he stops
me.
“
Claire, I want you to walk away.”
“
No.”
His expression is tortured. He takes my hand and places
it on his lips, softly kissing my fingertips. His eyes fill with fire and he
pulls me closer, holding the back of my head in the palm of his hand. He brings
his mouth down to mine, stopping just before our lips meet. I look into his
eyes…
I wake with a start. Disoriented, I look around the room.
Someone sitting in the chair across the room from me but I can’t discern who it
is in the darkness.
“Who’s there?” I whisper.
“It’s me. It’s Jason. I heard you talking when I came in. I
thought you were awake.”
“What did I say?”
Jason walks through the darkness toward where I’m lying on
the couch. He gazes down at me, but says nothing. He sits on the edge of the
couch, near my hips. I feel vulnerable with him this close to me. He says
nothing. He just stares.
“Jason?”
He must be drunk.
I see his face now and his eyes are glassy. His breath quickens. “You were
calling to me, Claire. That’s why I thought you were awake. You said ‘Jason’.”
He places his hand on my hip. My embarrassment turns into
longing and my heart rate accelerates with his touch.
“What did you want?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“You were dreaming, and you said
my name
. What did you want?”
I sit up straight, our faces parallel.
He licks his lips, and moves his hand onto my thigh. “Tell
me.” He barely whispers.
Our
eyes lock and in the cover of the dark I feel safe, as though I can be honest, as
if I can tell him anything. His breath smells of beer. He probably won’t
remember this anyway.
“I said your name because…I was dreaming about kissing you.”
At my admission he takes a breath and cocks his head to the
side. His gaze shifts to my lips, and he brings his mouth to mine. Forceful and
passionate, his kiss is intoxicating. I feel as if I’m floating as our tongues
move together, and our lips meet again and again. I slide my hands from his
shoulders into his hair. He holds my face and then moves his hands down to my
hips. His grip on me tightens, and I feel warmth begin to spread through my
body. My skin tingles everywhere he touches me. I want to feel every part of
him. I start to lie back, hoping he’ll understand, but he stops kissing me and
pulls away.
I stare at him as he strokes my cheek with his thumb. A
hundred emotions move across his face.
“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?” I ask.
“No. Nothing’s the matter. Can I show you something?”
“Okay.”
He takes my hand and we get up off the couch. I follow him
to his bedroom.
Chapter Three
The wooden floors creak, and I’m afraid we’ll wake Lydia.
When we get to Jason’s room he lets go of my hand and flips a switch. The room
is illuminated by the soft light of a small lamp. His queen-sized bed is
covered with a navy duvet and several pillows. There’s only a small window, and
tall bookshelves overflow on each wall. Across the room are an acoustic guitar,
an electric guitar with an amp, and a keyboard. Knee-high shelves line the far
wall, covered with CDs and records. I see candles by the bedside. Vintage music
posters and some of Lydia’s sculptures decorate the room. There’s a dark green area-rug
around the bed, and long curtains hang from the window.
“I like your room. It feels…
intellectual
…sort of.”
He smiles and walks toward me. He places his hands on my
shoulders and his eyes burn into me. I feel my nipples harden at his touch, and
I look away as I blush.
“I was surprised to see you, or
hear
you
, when I came home, but I’m very
glad you’re here.”
I turn to mush at his words. It’s only been moments since we
kissed, but I crave his lips again. I take a risk and put my hands against his
chest and step closer, hoping to feel his mouth on mine. He places his nose in
my hair and takes a breath, then steps back and takes my hand.
“Come.”
We walk toward the window where the keyboard is.
“You play piano?”