An Illicit Pursuit (2 page)

“Hi, Jules, how are you doing?” I ask and
start to pile the milk bottles into the fridge.

Jules follows me into the kitchen, leaning
back against the wall, placing her hands between the small of her
back and the wall. Which makes her boobs appear bigger, but even so
they’re too tiny for my taste.

“I’m okay, I guess. How are you?” She flashes
me a coquettish grin.

I go about putting away the rest of the
groceries, behaving as if I haven’t noticed she’s trying to make a
move on me. Again. “A little tired. I’ll just lie down in the
backyard and sleep or something.”

“Don’t you have any plans for tonight? Why
don’t you come with us?”

“Over my dead body,” Eleanor yells. Yeah, I
wouldn’t want to hang out with her and her creepy friends,
either.

“Don’t mind her. You’re always welcome to
hang out with us,” Jules say.

“No, thanks. I’m not fond of clubbing.”
It’s not clubbing that I’m not fond of, it’s you.

She doesn’t look as though she’ll give up.
“We can do something else if you don’t like loud music. Just name
it.”

“I’m too tired to do anything now. Maybe next
time.”
How about never?

“As you wish.” She looks disappointed, but
she’ll be more disappointed if she actually makes a move on me and
I turn her down. “Do you know when Dr. Garnett is arriving?”

Dr. Garnett is my father, who is a renowned
professor in Anthropology. And Eleanor and Jules, both being
students in the same department, have two classes taught by him. I
guess my father isn’t very happy with having one of his students
come to his home almost regularly, but Eleanor doesn’t seem to care
about his discomfort. Otherwise, why would she bring probably the
most annoying girl in town to our home every Friday?

“I don’t know,” I reply. “He’ll probably not
come home before midnight. He has a lot to do at work, you know,
writing papers, prepping classes, and all that nonsense.”

Jules laughs. My phone chimes in my pocket,
and I look at it to find a text from my mom.

“
I have five minutes before leaving. Come
up now if you want to talk.”

“Sorry, I gotta go,” I say before rushing out
of the kitchen and up to my parent’s bedroom.

Mom is dressed in a dark-green skirt suit and
is busy putting on makeup.

“Is Jules here again?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have to talk to Eleanor about it. Your
father has stopped coming home on Fridays, and I think it has to do
with Jules. It’s not ethical for a professor to befriend a
student.”

“You’re right. Talk to her. And while you’re
at it, talk to the twins, too. They’re planning to get their arms
waxed.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” She laughs
heartily. Her face shines with beauty that’s impossible to look
away from. “Honey, I’m sorry for what I’m about to say, but it’s
your girlfriend who’s giving them those absurd ideas. I’m not
telling you to stop seeing her or bringing her here. All I’m asking
you to do is to ask her to be careful about what she’s saying to
the girls. You know how impressionable they are.”

“Yeah, I know. I should have been more
careful. Actually, I’m planning on breaking up with her. Things
aren’t working well between us. It’s about time I find the woman
I’m going to marry.”

My mother breaks into another laugh. “Just
don’t go around announcing it, or the girls will line up at our
door just to have a chance to date you. You’re such a jewel, honey,
so handsome and good-natured. I love you so much. I hope you’ll
find the right one.”

I smile at her, all the while thinking of the
blonde hottie from In-N-Out.

Jack coaxes me into spending my Saturday
evening on a test screening of a movie that’ll actually be in
theaters in two months or so. I don’t understand why he doesn’t
just go watch the movies that are already in theaters, with clear
ratings and reviews. He claims to enjoy the movies better when he
doesn’t know anything about them, including the actors taking
part.

We got lucky only a couple of times out of
maybe two dozen, and came across movies that were surprisingly
great. But this one is one of the worst, really painful to
watch.

The story is inspired by the winner of some
music/talent show and her experiences throughout the contest. I
already despise any kind of talent shows and couldn’t care less
about the winners. If I happen to like a song and later find out
the singer was part of such a show, I’ll drop that song like a hot
potato and forget that it ever existed. In addition to my intense
dislike of the talent shows, this movie has a lot of
behind-the-stage scenes that are full of girls’ shouting, swearing,
and fighting. It’s worse than the slumber parties of Nikki and
Brendie. At least, they’re not allowed to swear and fight.

Hearing the ear-grating, high-pitched voices
of the contestants, I wish I’d brought earplugs to ease the torment
in my ears. We’re expected to write a review about the movie at the
end. Mine will be brief and clear;
“Turn down the volume
completely.”

The singing scenes are what is stopping me
from freaking out and leaving the theater altogether. As much as
they shout, each participant has some good-quality voice thrown in
there and even some dancing talent that is entertaining enough to
keep me watching.

Then, near the end of the movie, something
extraordinary and historical happens that has all the hair on my
neck stand on end. With my mouth open wide enough to host a
baseball, I gape at the beautiful girl on the screen, unable to
believe my eyes. I run a quick review of my activities preceding
the movie to make sure my perception isn’t under the influence of
some kind of alcohol or drug. No alcohol, no drugs—I don’t do drugs
anyway, but I haven’t had even medical drugs that can influence
perception. Then, why am I seeing the sexy, blonde girl from
In-N-Out now acting as the previous winner of a show in this crappy
movie?

Wait a minute! The girl from In-N-Out had a
guitar case on both occasions I saw her. The actress in the movie
has a guitar hanging down around her shoulder, as she’s speaking to
the show host. This is another common point for the two women,
besides the outrages similarity in their looks.

“Hey.” Jack elbows me. “Is it just my
imagination, or is it really the girl we saw the other day? You
know the blonde whose number you tried to get.”

“I’ve just been thinking the same,” I say,
rather loudly, making a few heads turn. “What are the odds?”

“She didn’t strike me as a Hollywood
actress.”

I start to say something but am stopped by
the next scene, where she begins singing with an exquisite,
provoking, and otherworldly voice. And I’m suddenly hit by all the
happy memories of my life, flooding over me like a wild wave on the
beach: the first day Nikki and Brendie came home from the hospital,
their first laughter, the news of my mother’s successful lung
transplantation, having my niece in my arms right after her birth,
the first car my father bought me, and the first drive I had with
all my sisters squeezed in it, and many more.

I’m so mesmerized by her voice and the song
she’s singing that I’m unable to move my hands to erase the
shameful tears streaming down my face. The tears that are taking
away my manhood with them, but I don’t care. I have a list of fifty
best movies I love to death, but none of them brought me to tears
like this crappy, rotten disgrace of a movie. All thanks to the
girl whom I already set eyes on and now has no way to escape from
me.

Yes, I’ll get her and make her mine, and
nothing can stand in my way.

Early September in Los Angeles is a sheer
torture to behold. I’m soaked in my own sweat in spite of sitting
under the shade of this humongous oak tree. Wiping away the sweat
gathered on my forehead, I check my watch. Twelve fifteen. Zach, my
high-school sweetheart and current boyfriend, is fifteen minutes
late for our lunch date.

“You’ll be late to your own funeral,” I once
told him.

“Nobody is perfect; not even the chosen
ones,” he responded, laughing. His Jewish identity and my Catholic
upbringing are two of the few topics we tend to avoid. Except for
jokes, of course.

My eyes scan the countless students, roaming
around the UCLA campus trying to locate Zach, but he’s not among
them. Instead, I spot a tall, masculine guy with wavy dark hair,
wearing a V-neck, white t-shirt, and blue jeans, which are hanging
loosely around his hips. The way he pushes the strands of hair off
his forehead and laughs is like an oasis in this extreme heat.
Which, nonetheless, doesn’t stop me from turning my gaze away from
him down to my guitar. I’m not usually the type who piques the
interest of such beautiful guys. Oh, and I almost forgot; I’m
taken, anyway. So, I pull my guitar to my lap and spread my fingers
on the strings, hoping I won’t get heat stroke, or at least if I
do, Zach will arrive in time to take me to the hospital.

“Do you actually play that thing?” A velvety
tone pulls me away from my frustration. I look up to see none other
than the oasis guy, standing a few feet away from me, with a
disarming smile playing on his beautiful lips and his hands hanging
casually in the pockets of his jeans. His eyes are both mesmerizing
and exhilarating. His hair is a dark hue of brown, his skin dark
olive on his face and arms, lighter on the visible part of his
chest.

I have to re-play his question in my mind,
because honestly, he’s so much more gorgeous up close that I can’t
help but be tongue-tied. I avert my eyes and glance down at my
guitar. “That thing is called a guitar,” I say and look up at him
with a grin. “And yes, I do play it.”

He draws his thick brows together. The
seriousness washing over his sexy face makes my heart go drumming.
“Wait a minute. Do I know you?”

I use the opportunity to sweep my eyes over
him from head to toe, as if I have to study him thoroughly to be
able to answer his question. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, now I remember.” He raises a hand and
taps his index finger on his lips. Which draws my attention to the
plump opening of his mouth and there, at that point, I admit to
myself that I could risk making a fool out of myself, just to steal
a kiss from him. “I saw you in a movie. What was its title?
Luscious Life Under Stars, right?”

“How do you know that? The movie isn’t out
yet.”

“I saw a test screening of it.”

“So, what do you think?”

“You’re so much hotter in real life,” he says
with the same playful smile on his lips. I can’t make out whether
he’s serious or not, but I can’t stop blushing, either. The extra
heat makes my arms go loose.

“The movie. What do you think of the movie?”
I ask, trying to be nonchalant about his compliment.

“Honestly, my favorite part was the lights
coming on at the end.”

“That bad?” I cringe. Isn’t that just great?
I got one shot at having my voice heard across the country, and
it’s a dead-end one.

“It won’t make it to the Oscars. Regardless,
you make quite an impression in the scene where you appear. I was
fighting the urge to sleep until your song came on. You gave a
whole new meaning to ‘save it at the last minute.’”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“
Just look at me, undress me, make me lose
my mind, my everything,”
he recites a line from the song I sang
in the movie, making me shiver despite the boiling heat. “I’d love
to hear it live.”

I glance down at my watch. Twelve thirty.
Zach will be here any minute, and he won’t like finding me flirting
with a gorgeous stranger. “Sorry, I don’t have time.”

“Then, let’s meet another time to grab some
coffee, lunch, or dinner. Whatever you like.”

“Are you asking me for a date?” I frown,
unable to grasp the reason why. He’s in a whole different league,
where girls must be worshipping the ground he’s walking on. What
will he do with me, an average blond with average height and
larger-than-average hips? Maybe he doesn’t see me clearly under the
bright sun’s rays.

“Yes, indeed.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Adam Garnett.” He takes a step closer and
stretches out his hand toward me. I stand up with one hasty move
and nearly fall back on my butt, but he catches my hand and pulls
me toward him. Standing inches away and inhaling the mixture of
orange grove and spices of his light cologne makes my head
twirl.

“Pat Stevens,” I mumble in a low voice,
unable to pull my eyes away from his captive eyes. Oh, my
goodness!

He laughs; his breath brushes the skin on my
face, breaking through my senses. “Short for Patricia?”

“No, just Pat.” He hasn’t released my hand
yet and I won’t be the first one to let go.

“Sounds very similar to Cat Stevens.”

“That’s why my artist name is Pat
Carter.”

“Nice to meet you Pat Stevens a.k.a. Pat
Carter. Will you give me the honor to have your cell number?”

At that point, he releases my hand to pull
his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. I tell him my number,
staring at his long fingers, trying to brush away the thoughts of
the goose bumps those fingers would cause on my skin if he touches
me again, while he types quickly on his phone.

“Done, I’ll call you tonight.”

Tonight? Zach will find out. Shoot! Will I
seriously cheat on Zach? It only takes me a three-minute appearance
in a movie to become a cheater.

“I have to catch a class. Wait for my call.”
He winks at me and leaves. I watch him go until his silhouette
disappears into the crowd he came from. Suddenly all I want is to
see him again. To talk to him, to get to know him. To make sure he
was real and not an oasis or a dream I had during a heat
stroke.

“Hey, love.” Zach shows up.