Authors: Kim Holden
Robbie laughs next to Jamie and says, “What Kate’s trying to say is that she scared the hell out of a passenger.”
I smile a guilty smile. “Or two.”
Gus starts in, “That’s bullsh—,” but I cut him off by raising my finger in the air between us again. He slumps back against his seat.
Franco bumps the back of my seat with his knee hard enough that I feel it. “Don’t sweat it, Kate. They’re pussies. You’re a fast, aggressive driver. Nothing wrong with that. Next topic please.”
I can see Gus smiling out of the corner of my eye. The validation in that smile alone makes me feel better.
(Keller)
I can’t lie. I was disappointed when I received the text from Katie saying she’d meet us at the show tonight. We never discussed it, but I’d assumed that we would all hang out before the show and then ride over together. And now I’ve lost that time with her. I look forward to every minute I get to spend with her. Every minute of every day wouldn’t be enough.
But, I was crushed when I went to Grounds to grab a cup of coffee around
6:00, and Dan told me that Katie was here earlier.
And
that she was here with some guy. He couldn’t remember his name but said he was tall and muscular with blond hair. The description didn’t ring any bells. I pressed him and he said, “I’m sorry.” Good news never starts with “I’m sorry.” He said they looked very comfortable with each other. That he had his arm around her when they walked out of Grounds and he kissed her on the forehead before they got in the car. Shit! Why didn’t I just tell her how I felt about her? Now she’s with someone else. Or maybe she’s been with him all along. I knew I shouldn’t have opened up my heart to her. She’s going to break me in two. I’ve known it since the moment I laid eyes on her. She’d never hurt anyone intentionally, but it’s inevitable … it will happen. It’s my own damn fault. Still, this feeling sucks. And I know it’s irrational but I’m pissed at her, too. There’s no way I’m going to that show tonight.
After I make my nightly call home to Chicago, I go straight for the only bottle of liquor we have in the apartment: tequila. Tequila is a fantastic distraction, and it numbs terrifically. I know because by the time
Dunc and Shel come by to pick me up at 8:30 the bottle’s empty and I’m willingly on my way to the concert I swore a few hours ago I would avoid at all costs.
Shel’s
been texting Katie the whole time we’ve been standing in line to get in the auditorium. She relays to Dunc and I that Katie was having dinner with some old friends that are in town for the show. Yeah, I know she with was out with a
friend
. That’s why I’m so fucking wasted right now.
By the time I stagger into the place the band’s taking the stage and the crowd’s going ballistic. After
Shel spends some time shouting into her phone to try and locate Katie in the mob, we push our way through hundreds of other college kids to find Katie and a couple of friends of hers. I’ve met Clayton once before when he came into Grounds with Katie, but I don’t recognize anyone else. None of them are tall and blond like Dan described. I exhale the breath I’ve been holding because at least she’s not with
him
. I don’t want to look at her but I can’t help myself. She’s just as beautiful as every other time I’ve seen her. Her hair is down and messy like it always is. Messy like she’s just crawled out of bed … after having sex.
Shit
. She has on one of her homemade T-shirts that would look ridiculous on anyone else, but looks perfect on her. It hugs her body in all the right places. This one says
I heart San Diego
. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. She’s smiling at me like she’s happy to see me. God, how I wish that were true.
Her small hands grip my bicep and though I’m numb to the physical sensation of most everything else, the contact isn’t lost on me. Her hands are cold like they always are, but my skin warms to her touch.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she yells in my ear over the music.
I can’t help myself. “Where’s your
friend
?” My words are slurred and angry. They don’t sound like my own.
She pulls back to look at me, stunned. “Are you drunk?”
“Thoroughly,” I say. “Dan said you were at Grounds this afternoon with a
friend
.” I wrap the word in air quotes and regret it immediately. Why am I being such a dick? It’s not like we’re together.
She wraps friend in air quotes when she responds, “My friend
is
here. You guys will meet him after the show.” She looks hurt and turns her attention back to the stage. After some shuffling she ends up sandwiched with Shel on one side and Clayton on the other. I make sure I’m always directly behind her. She never stands still, so it’s like aiming for a moving target.
The music is just sound, noise in my ears, for the first several songs. I let it fill me. It numbs like the tequila I’m currently drowning in. I’m not even looking at the stage. I feel like a fucking sicko but I can’t take my eyes off Katie. Her back is to me, only inches away, and the way she moves to the music has me stretching my usual fantasies to extreme levels. Visions of ripping her clothes off and taking her ten different ways right here in front of everyone fill my head.
The songs are running together, but soon the haze lifts a little and the cacophony turns into words and guitars and drums. My anger begins to burn off with the alcohol. Maybe it’s the indecent thoughts I’ve been having about her, or maybe it’s just the fact that’s it’s Katie and I don’t think anyone could ever really be mad at her, or maybe it’s just that I’m standing so damn close to her that I realize I shouldn’t take my time with her for granted.
The next song is a slow ballad. The rest of the band has left the stage and the singer has switched out his electric guitar for an acoustic one. I have to admit that this guy is talented. The song is sad, and even though my drunken mind can’t make out every word, I know it’s about losing someone you care for. It’s obvious the song is personal; his voice is stripped down and
wounded. It feeds some deep longing in me, and I can’t help reaching for physical contact. I rest my hands on Katie’s hips, and when she doesn’t object, I splay my fingers and slowly slide them across her stomach. The tips of my thumbs brush the underside of her breasts and my pinkies drag along the waistband of her jeans. Her T-shirt is thin; I can feel what she looks like underneath. She leans back into me and lets me hold her. Her palms smooth over my forearms and fire tears a path across my skin.
I must be losing my fucking mind. Everything was simple before I met her. I did everything I was supposed to, when I was supposed to, how I was supposed to. And now? Now I have my arms wrapped around her. And she has a boyfriend. And she’s gorgeous. I can’t stop obsessing about her and I’m two seconds away from doing something really foolish.
One second …
I can’t stop.
I rest my chin gently on top of her head and let my cheek skim down her waves. I inhale deeply. She smells
so
good. Her body stills, but her arms don’t release mine. I take that as permission. I burrow just beneath her ear and run the tip of my nose shamelessly up and down her neck. My heart is pounding and I know she feels it. One of her hands drops and wraps itself around the back of my upper thigh just below my ass. Her head drops slightly to one side allowing me better access. I press my body into her. She presses back. The advanced, physical state of my arousal should be embarrassing in this crowd of people, but I’m too drunk and turned on to care. Besides, we’re packed in here like sardines and everyone’s focused on the stage. No one else will notice. My lips press against her neck. It’s warm and soft and dewy. I could devour her. I release her from my lips and just as the tip of my tongue makes contact, the hottest moment of my life comes to an abrupt end.
The song is over and the crowd erupts into deafening applause, which puts everyone in motion. We’re torn from the moment by simple physics, a chain reaction of movement, one body against the next.
Dunc elbows me and when I catch his eye he raises his eyebrows and smiles. The bastard sees everything.
Katie looks back at me. The corner of her bottom lip is captured between her teeth. Her darkened eyes search mine before they settle on my mouth. My heart stutters.
Shel, who’s been pounding beers all night and is as drunk as I am, proves to be my buzzkill. She’s jumping up and down like a teenager on crack, hugging Katie and slurring something about how much she loves that song and how hot the singer is.
The nail in the coffin comes when the rest of the band takes the stage again and the singer takes off his sweat soaked T-shirt while he’s swapping out his guitar. Every female in the building screams, except Katie who’s shaking her head and smiling. The heightened energy in the crowd seems to be carrying her further from me.
The singer takes the microphone from the stand and motions for the crowd to quiet down. They do. I have to give the douchebag props; he’s owned the crowd all night. He’s got them eating out of his hand. “We have one last song for you tonight. Unfortunately, when we perform this song live, it sounds nothing like the version on the album because you’re stuck with my shitty voice singing every word.” Laughter rumbles through the crowd, and he raises his hands to hush them again. “You see, we have this very talented friend who has the voice of a goddamn angel. She’s the one that makes this song so special, but as you can see,” he gestures back to his bandmates, “she’s not in the band.” The crowd is in a frenzy because they know the song he’s talking about. So do I. It’s “Killing the Sun.” They’ve been playing the hell out of it on the college station and it’s a good song, but he’s right; the woman’s voice is what makes it. It’s the kind of voice you feel in your bones. It’s sexy; vulnerable and confident at the same time.
After another pause to quiet the crowd, he continues.
“Well, I have some good news for you, Grant.” He looks back at the drummer and though he’s not talking into the mic the words are picked up for all of us to hear, “Dude, she’s gonna be so fucking pissed at me.” And back to the audience, “She’s in the building, and I’m really hoping she’ll come up and sing with us tonight.” The crowd cheers, whistles, stomps.
We’re about thirty feet from the stage and I can’t help but notice he’s staring in our general direction.
“Come on, Bright Side, don’t make me beg.” He drops to his knees and clasps his hands in front of his broad, bare, muscled chest. The guy looks like Thor from the movies. “Please … please … ” He motions to the crowd to join in his pleas. They do. Everyone in the building is begging now, me included, because with a voice like that I want to see what this woman looks like.
He shakes his head and laughs. “Okay, you asked for it. You can come up here on your own or I’m coming out to get you. It’s your choice.” His crosses his massive arms over his chest and pauses a few seconds. “I warned you.” Without hesitation, he drops the microphone and jumps down off the stag
e, climbs over the railing holding back the masses, and makes his way through the crowd. Of course every woman wants to touch him so his progress is slow, but when he finally stops he’s standing in front of Clayton, who looks like he’s about to pass out. That’s when I notice that Katie is crouched down behind Clayton, as if trying to hide. He reaches around Clayton and taps Katie on the shoulder. When she looks up, he’s crooking his finger at her.
She shakes her head. “Not
gonna happen, dude,” she yells.
“Come on, Bright Side. I really don’t
wanna make a scene.”
She straightens and squares off against him. “It’s a little fucking late for that, don’t you think?”
He looks around. Every eye in the place is on him. He shrugs. “Probably.” The words are no sooner out of his mouth than he’s reached around Clayton and thrown her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. Her body goes limp as she concedes defeat.
What.
The.
Hell?
I look around, and everyone in Katie’s group of friends is confused. At least I’m not the only one. She sings? How did this never come up? She’s on the fucking radio! Why didn’t she tell us?
By now, he’s lifting her up on the stage and climbing up behind her. The bass player walks up and puts his arm around her while the singer adjusts his microphone down to her level. When he’s done she approaches and looks out at the crowd. The
mic picks up what she thinks is a private conversation, “
Oh. Shit
. Would you look at all these people?”
The drummer calls out
, “Don’t fuck this up, Kate.”
She flips him off without turning around to face him. He laughs. She’s got attitude—I love that about her.
The singer slings his guitar strap across him and takes his place at a microphone a few feet from her. He’s grinning at her like he’s enjoying the hell out of this. She scowls back, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I’m gonna fucking kill you. You know that, right?”
The audience laughs and cheers, waiting to see what happens. As the singer strums the first chords of the song, he says, “Just wait until after the song, Bright Side, then I’m all yours.”
Maybe it’s all the alcohol in my system, but what follows is like a surrealistic dream. As the music builds, Katie looks so small, yet so powerful up there. Every time she opens her mouth her eyes flutter closed and she brings forth this unbelievably massive wave of sound that washes over me. It’s the sonic equivalent of great sex. The song is about living and loving in an infinite moment. Treating this night as if it’s your last and you can make it last forever. You can chase away the morning, the end, by killing the sun. It’s an anthem. The crowd is jumping, moshing, singing. The energy in this place is insane. Thousands of people are living through the song, through its words.