Authors: Liz Botts
“I wish I had a song,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt stupid, and laughed at myself. The sound of my voice seemed to jar Jake back to reality. He looked down at me with a question on his face. I just shook my head, and shrugged. What could I say that didn't get me into a more complicated situation with him?
The music changed to another cheesy song, this one slow. All around us couples slowed down, and began to sway. I had never felt so awkward in all my life. The thing was I had danced with Jake dozens of times. I knew that any choice I made would complicate things further so I closed my eyes, inched closer to Jake, and rested my cheek against his chest.
The next night I had a date with Rory. He wanted to take me to some bar in the next town over to hear a band. I'd reminded him that I didn't drink, and I didn't have a fake ID so I had no idea how I'd get in. Rory had vacillated between annoyed and amused. Finally he'd said, “I'll pick you up at eight.”
As I stood in front of my mirror inspecting my outfit for the tenth time, Brooke stuck her head around the door frame. “Where are you going tonight?”
I shrugged. “Out with Rory.”
Brooke giggled. “You make it sound like it's nothing.”
“It kind of is nothing.” As soon as I said the words, I knew they were true. Going out with Rory had lost the sparkle and excitement that it had initially had, especially since I realized that it had driven a wedge between me and Jake.
“What do you mean?” Brooke asked as she entered my room, and settled herself on my bed.
I smoothed my pale pink peasant blouse once more before I turned to her. “Rory's fun, butâ¦I don't know. Even though he's older, he's kind of immature.”
Brooke raised her eyebrow at me. “So why are you dating him?”
“I don't know anymore. Ugh. I can't believe I'm even talking about any of this. Shouldn't I just be happy that a guy like him wants to go out with me?” I leaned against my desk as I sighed.
“No. If he's not what you want, why should you care if he wants to go out with you?” Brooke shook her head, and her blond, curly hair flounced around her face. “I know you haven't dated that many guys, but you're smart enough to know that's not how it should work.”
“I should take offense to that,” I said. “But I won't since you are still merely a child.”
Outside a car horn honked. I grabbed my purse, and shot out of my room with a quick goodbye to my younger sister. I couldn't dwell on what she'd said, couldn't look deeper than the surface of this relationship or I knew I'd see all the flaws. Nothing was perfect, but sometimes I needed to cling to the notion that something out there somewhere was. That was my romantic idiot part that I always did my best to hide.
I dashed across the yard to where Rory was parked. He had an impatient look on his face when I slid into the passenger seat. When I had clicked my seat belt into place he leaned across the center console to kiss me. In the past I had felt a thrill shoot through me as he pressed me into my seat, and slipped his tongue into my mouth. It had left me breathless and giddy, with heat flooding my body in unmentionable places. Tonight? I felt claustrophobic as he moved in, and the kiss was slippery and slimy.
Not the best way to start the evening.
“You should have come to the door. My parents really want to meet you.” The snarkiness in my tone made me flinch. I hated nags, and there was no getting around the fact that I sounded like one now.
Rory leaned back into his side, rolled his eyes, and put the car in drive. “The perks of dating a high schooler.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I didn't like the sarcasm in his tone but refrained from saying anything else.
“Exactly what it sounds like. You're basically still a child, even though legally you're an adult. I have to play by rules that I gave up a long time ago.” He paused as he turned onto a busier street. “Plus you're a tease.”
He mumbled the last part, but I heard him loud and clear. Honestly, it stung. Tears pricked my eyes so I turned to stare out the window as the city flashed by. I wanted to say so many things, to rebuff his claims, to tell him that I'd never meant for him to get the wrong impression. What would it have helped, though? He'd made up his mind about what he wanted from our relationship, and it was not something I was going to give up to him so where did that leave us?
We rode in silence for a stretch of highway, until Rory pulled off at an exit for one of the smaller towns on the outskirts of the city. I knew where he was taking me, and despite our crummy start to the evening, I felt a flash of excitement. Club Lemonade. The establishment served both adults and minors so that everyone could come listen to the bands. And whoa, did they have bands. Several new up and coming groups had started at Club Lemonade, as unlikely as that seemed.
“You didn't say we were going here,” I said with an undeniable squeal in my voice.
Rory flashed me a grin that reminded me why I had crushed on him in the first place. “I wanted it to be a surprise for our month anniversary.”
His words made me pause. Had we really been dating for only a month? It seemed a lot longer than that. In fact, I could have sworn we'd first gone out in March. That would mean that he had his dates mixed up or he had a different start date for our relationship in mind than I did. I told myself that it didn't matter. Rory was trying to be sweet so I should appreciate that fact.
“Well, I'm really excited. I've never been. How'd you score tickets anyway?”
The smile on Rory's face approached Cheshire cat proportions. “It pays to work in the news business. You'd be amazed at how many people you can get dirt on when you throw your credentials around.”
There was so much wrong with what he'd said, but I didn't want to start another fight so I just looked away. I wanted to lecture him about the need for impeccable morals in journalism so that the profession could reassert itself as a noble field. Even in my head it sounded so self-righteous I wanted to smack myself. I didn't think it would help things with Rory.
We climbed out of the car, and headed toward the bouncer at the entrance. Rory flashed him two tickets, and the velvet rope was lifted aside. I feltâ¦glamorous for lack of a better word. The looks of jealousy on the faces of girls in the waiting crowd weren't in my imagination. I knew there were people out there who had wondered how a girl like me could end up with a guy like that, and get in to this exclusive club without batting an eye.
To be fair, it was a great question, and I didn't have the answer.
The air in the club was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. A heavy bass shook the tables as we wove our way toward the dance floor. I could see instruments set up on the stage, waiting for the band to retrieve them. Rory led me to a booth in a corner near the bar. He gestured me in, and when I took a seat, he leaned over, and yelled, “What can I get you to drink?”
“Lemonade,” I shouted back. The club's signature drink, of course.
I watched Rory slip away into the crowd. My stomach twisted, and I felt a surge of fear. I laughed it away. These past few weeks my emotions had been coming on strong, with a healthy dose of confusion sweeping in behind. I had no idea how to sort through my feelings, and no idea who to talk to about what was going on in my head, and in my heart.
While I waited for Rory to come back, I concentrated on quelling the panic in my gut. The band came out, and began tuning up their instruments. I tried to focus on the minutiae of their movements. The lead guitarist's fingers pressed the frets flat, and he cracked a grin at the drummer, a heavily tattooed chick with an amazing cloud of black hair. They really seemed to enjoy what they were doing. Wasn't that the point of life? To be happy? One thing I knew right at that moment, as if a rock had been thrown at my head, was that I wasn't happy.
“Here you go,” Rory said, plunking my drink in front of me, and swinging into the booth.
I took a sip, and nearly passed out. “What is in this?” I asked as I coughed and gagged.
“Just a little vodka. Come on, we're out, just enjoy yourself.” Rory draped his arm along the back of the seat, and it took everything in my power not to shove him away.
He'd obviously never paid any attention to me when I told him about my aunt or why I vehemently refused to drink. Or if he had, he chose not to honor my wishes, which just seemed low. Part of this had to be my fault, too, though because I had noticed that when he drank Rory got mean. It didn't take much of a leap to realize that he could go down the path my aunt had, even if he never abused alcohol.
“I'm not drinking this.” I pushed the glass away, and folded my arms over my chest.
“Don't then. I don't care. Let's dance. The band should be starting soon, and I want to get a good spot.” Rory stood, and held out his hand to me. I hesitated a moment before I grabbed ahold of him. We were still at Club Lemonade, and I did like Rory, so why not have fun?
We got to the edge of the stage just as the band began to play. They had an awesome folksy sound that I loved. Rory, however, looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon. The club was so loud that I couldn't ask him what was wrong, but I could guess. He must have had a different idea about what kind of music this group played.
“I'm going to get another drink.” Rory's voice was too loud in my ear, but I nodded. When he moved away I felt a sense of relief. I knew deep down what it meant. My confidence surged back, and I began to dance to the band that had kicked in to a rowdy rockabilly tune.
After three more songs I had sweat dripping down my back. Not attractive, but I was having too much fun to care. I swept my curls into an unruly pony tail with a scrunchie I'd dug from the bottom of my purse. As Brooke would have told me, my look was so nineties. I felt a twinge of guilt at the way I had treated her before I'd left the house.
I slung my purse over my shoulder, and decided that I should go find Rory. He was probably sulking in our booth. I frowned as I neared when I saw another couple sitting there. Maybe he was at the bar. Fighting my way through the crowd, I approached the shiny, polished wood of the bar. There was no sign of Rory. My earlier panic returned with a fierceness that took my breath away. The club was packed with people, and I knew it would be next to impossible to find him.
Finding a small corner of free space I pulled out my phone, and texted Rory. While I waited I scanned the room, no longer enjoying the music. When he didn't respond, I knew that something was wrong. I wandered toward the entrance. I figured maybe the bouncer would be able to help me somehow.
Just as I neared the front door I caught a glimpse of Rory. He was walking out of the club with his arm slung over the shoulder of another girl. A tall, leggy girl with a low top and a short skirt. Despite the situation, anger surged, and my jaw clenched. If I had been able to make it through the people in my way, the girl would have been flat on the ground after being acquainted with my fist. And I wouldn't let Rory get away with his cheating heart.
By the time I did make it outside, Rory and his floozy were gone. I punched in an angry text to him, and began to pace around off to the side of the front stairs trying to come up with a plan. The only thing that came to mind filled me with trepidation.
I listened while the phone rang. “Jake?”
He pulled into the lot thirty minutes later. Lawrence, the bouncer, had let me hang out on the front stoop with him, though he kept telling me to go back in and enjoy myself while I waited. Club Lemonade had left a sour taste in my mouth.
I recognized Jake's mom's car the second he turned into the lot. Adjusting my purse on my shoulder, I stood up. As I neared the car I saw that he wasn't alone in the car. Mary Beth sat in the passenger seat glaring at me through the windshield. Jake threw the car into park, and hopped out.
“Please don't say anything,” I said when I got near him. “This has been an awful night.”
Jake put his arm around my shoulder, and guided me to the car. He opened the back door for me, and I crawled in. Mary Beth gave me a curt nod before turning back to the front. I settled in, clipped my seat belt, and looked out the window as I tried to ignore the fact that I had completely interrupted a date.
“We could have at least gone in,” Mary Beth said in a low voice as we pulled out of the lot. “I mean, when will we ever come out here again? And it's Club Lemonade.”
“I'm not into that kind of scene, you know that.” Jake kept his voice steady but I could hear the irritation.
“Couldn't you just try to think about me for a change?” I peeked over at Mary Beth as she pouted her lips prettily at him. “I mean, with my foot still in this cast, it's so hard to get around. I could really use a mood booster.”
I shifted my gaze to Jake. His hair curled slightly over the collar of his jacket. He needed a trim. If things had been different, I'd have mentioned that fact to Lauren. She'd been cutting all of our hair since we were young. Sometimes it looked better than others, but she'd gotten better the older she got. Now, though, I just stared at the soft, tiny curls.
“I took you to Café Nord tonight because you wanted to go there. We can talk about this later.” Jake ran a hand along the back of his neck, displacing the hair. I suddenly had the inexplicable urge to reach up and smooth it down.
Mary Beth lapsed into silence but not without a huff of annoyance first. I sat back as far as I could, wishing I could sink straight into the cushions of the seat. The tension in the car was murky and thick. I hated being the cause of it, and I knew that I wasn't the only reason. Still after taking over prom planning, I clearly wasn't Mary Beth's favorite person. That was an understatement to say the least.
As the city came back into view from the highway, I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window. I watched the lights blinking in the distance, and wondered where I went from here.