Star Crossed (4 page)

            Even if she ended up making out with the first interesting and nice person that she found, Tara thought darkly. Skylar seemed to be of the opinion that meeting someone's eyes dramatically on the dance floor meant that they had that 'spiritual connection' or whatever. Tara just hoped that she could help keep her friend out of the worst of whatever trouble might come her way because of that mistaken belief.

            The dance floor was a milling mess of people shifting in all kinds of directions. It amazed Skylar just how much skin was being shown and how brazen some of the motions were. Perhaps some people didn't realize how bright the lights sometimes were and didn't know just how much they were showing off. After all, the lights kept flashing intermittently and it was difficult for her to focus on any one thing, especially since they were so many different colors.

            There were small stages at a couple of places along the floor where the bands came out and played. Those areas were the most crowded although when one of the bands set aside their mics so another could take their turn to play there was more room to breathe in that area. That is, unless the lead singer of the band that had been playing was very attractive and had sung well enough to inspire heightened levels of enthusiasm in his audience.

            Skylar moved around the floor, dancing with Tara and wondering how any of the other girls on the floor managed to balance drinks in their hands while they danced. Skylar turned to shout at Tara, “How are we supposed to meet anyone in all this crazy?”

            “You don't, they meet you,” a deep male voice said near her ear. She jumped and turned to see who was talking and could not help but stare. He was dressed all in black and so seemed to be much slimmer than he was despite the obvious musculature of his arms as he reached out to stabilize her. His hair was peroxide blonde and his eyes so strikingly blue that Skylar forgot for a moment how to breathe. He wore an ornately decorated cross around his neck and several braided cords around one wrist.

            His lips curled into a dashing smile as he observed her reaction to him and apparently decided that she was not going to answer him right away. “My name is Grayson. I'm the lead singer of the Wraiths,” he said, indicating one of the partially occupied stages. One of the other band members waved at them and went back to tuning his guitar.

            “I'm Skylar,” she managed to say. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear nervously and smiled up at him. Her heart was racing and she knew that she must be flushed but she couldn't help it. She
knew.
She knew it would happen. She berated herself quickly that he would think she was stupid if she didn't say something more interesting but the only thing that came out was, “It's nice to meet you.”

            “Likewise. I'm finishing my gig in an hour or so but needed to get something to drink. Want to meet up later? That is, unless you want a front row seat. I could take you up to sit on the stage while we play.”

            Skylar looked to Tara quickly. “Would that be okay?”

            “I've always wanted to be front row,” Tara said with a shrug.

            “Great, can I get you ladies anything to drink? I was just getting water for myself,” Grayson said as he started to lead them through the throng of people.

            “Water's fine,” Skylar said. It was refreshing to find someone that didn't feel the need to drink simply because they were in a social setting, but it was far too crowded for her to tell him as much. Hopefully she would get a chance to later.

            After he had gotten a few bottles of water and handed them out he led them over to the stage and introduced them to his bandmates. Tara immediately struck up a conversation with the drummer but Skylar stayed close to Grayson. Grayson, for his part, seemed content to ignore the crowd around them and to focus completely on introducing Skylar to his world.

            Their music, when it was their turn to play, was heavier than Skylar was used to but was not unpleasant. There were hints of techno mixed in with lyrics that, to her, were soulful and strange. She couldn't quite catch all of them because of the sheer volume and level of noise pollution but her mind was already racing ahead to her potential future with this man. She'd never have to ask about his lyrics because he would write all of his songs with her, or would sing them for her before playing them for anyone else. She would tell him about how it made her feel and he would say that that was exactly what he intended, and his kisses...

            She was pulled from her daydreams back to reality by the last lingering note of his song before the drummer clashed the snare abruptly and the crowd's roars of approval drowned out all else. He smiled and waved at them all but it was on her that his eyes lingered and she couldn't help but blush.

            When the crowd of people wanting to talk to him converged he moved to pull Skylar up against him and held up a quieting hand. “Please, I promised this beautiful creature I would talk with her after the show. If you want autographs or CDs then visit our website and I will get to all of your requests, I promise!”

            He ignored their protests to pull Skylar up with him to the upstairs patio and moved swiftly into the VIP section. A couple of burly security guards watched them go by but did not move from their post. Some of the following group complained bitterly but went back downstairs.

            “That was a bit crazy, wasn't it?” Grayson asked with a grin.

            “We lost Tara,” Skylar said as she pulled out her phone to text her friend and let her know where she was.

            “Don't worry, I'll let them know to let her in up here if you like. Would you like some more water?”

            Skylar didn't answer as she was reading Tara's text back. “She says she got a bit noised out with all of the crowd and wants to know if I'm okay with her waiting for me across the street.”

            “Sounds like she's pretty protective.”

            She looked up at him self-consciously and gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, it's not like she has anything to worry about,” she said. She didn't want him to think that she needed a babysitter, after all.

            “No, I understand. It's good to have a good friend. I'd like to get to know you a bit better, if that's all right, but I'll feel better if there's someone waiting for you to take you home if it starts getting late.” He flashed another smile. “Besides, it keeps me honest. I could talk with new people all night if left to my own devices, but if I know you have someone waiting on you I'm more apt to think about how late it's getting.” His smile turned shy. “It just seems like you're the kind of person I could forget the time with.”

            Skylar's blush deepened. “I'll let her know.”

~~~

            Chris stretched and groaned as he rose from his nap amongst his pile of texts, notebooks, and papers to answer the doorbell that had just chimed for what seemed like the hundredth time. Wearily he crossed to the door, wishing that he could just be left alone to finish his paper before his looming deadline. Even though he admittedly was accomplishing less work and more worry as the days came and went.

            “Who’s there?” Chris shouted through the thin apartment door, even as he opened the cover over the peephole to see his friend Steve standing impatiently on the other side of the threshold.

            “Guess I better get used to Mr. Graduate’s degree standing me up, huh?” Steve said before Chris had barely cracked open the door.

            “What on earth are you talking about man?” Chris responded with an obviously bewildered look on his face.

            “Tuesday night wings man, every Tuesday for years now Chris! You don’t even know what day it is, do you?” his friend asked with a chuckle.

            Chris paused to think and sure enough Tuesday had snuck right up to him.

            “Yeah, you can say that again. I guess I’ve been working harder than I thought man, I’m sorry.”

            “Just what I thought. Also, if I know you, that pile of massive writer’s block you’ve got sitting on your coffee table in there indicates that you have accomplished a whole lot of nothing during your personal sequestering, right?” Steve asked as he leaned into the living room, eying the piles of research paraphernalia that surrounded the couch and coffee table like an agoraphobic’s safety fort.

            Chris looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow and started to think that Steve might know him entirely too well.

            “You’re right,” Chris heaved with a sigh, “But there’s nothing left to do, but write this thing and I just can’t seem to get my thoughts together.” He knew the reason why, but held it back as he looked towards Steve; who nagged him too much about women and dating as it was. The last thing that Steve needed to hear was that he couldn’t wrap his head around research, because it had been wrapped around Skylar. Not that there was too much to think about on that subject, he hastily attempted to tell himself once again.

            After all, it wouldn’t be fair for him to make any kind of a move with her. She wanted romance and for someone to be around for her and he couldn’t promise her that. If she was going to give up on guys like Joey who stood her up then what good would it do for him to be a part of her life? He had so much going on sometimes that he couldn’t even remember it was Tuesday, let alone function enough to keep a date. Skylar would think she wasn’t worth more to him than his grades and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to play with her heart like that. Even if he couldn’t stop wondering what she had done that day or who she was talking to or whether they were going to be the kind of person she deserved to have in her life.

            He had to give her that independence, though, because she clearly couldn’t find happiness with someone like him.

            “Well, your thoughts are sure to be clearer after a beer or seven,” Steve cajoled.

            “I don’t think your ideas of clear are the same as mine,” Chris said flatly.

            “Well, either way, you could use some decompression time. I mean honestly Chris, when was the last time you thought about anything other than work?”

            “I’m a goal oriented person, what can I say.”

            “Excuses, excuses. You need to orient yourself to some relaxation. Who knows, you might even relax yourself into putting a coherent sentence on paper.”

            Chris sat and studied his dimly lit apartment for a moment. The usually inviting glow of his multiple lamps that were meant to soften the light in the room suddenly seemed dull and almost depressing. In that moment he realized that his friend might actually be right about something concerning his mental well-being for once.

            “Maybe I could use a short break. I did stand you up after all,” Chris replied with a sarcastic wink, “But I cannot allow you to get used to this special treatment, I have a reputation as a workaholic to uphold you know.”

            “That’s my boy!” Steve teased as he patted Chris on the back.

            “So what do you have planned for my brief research hiatus?” Chris asked as he began gathering the few things he wanted to take with him in the event of a sudden thesis breakthrough.

            “I didn’t have anything planned actually. I didn’t think I would be able to convince you open the door, let alone leave the apartment.”

            “Well, I’ve got to take a shower, because if it’s Tuesday then I haven’t taken a shower in…” Chris tilted his head and paused, counting to himself, “…yeah I need a shower… Just think about what you want to do and I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Chris ended by shutting the door to the bathroom and after a few moments Steve could hear the sound of the shower running.

            Steve realized that his friend was more solitary than most guys his age and quickly ruled out the club scene, the mall, gyms, or basically anything else that involved groups of people. Then, the thought of camping settled into his mind and he couldn’t quite shake it. He knew that Chris could use some fresh air and light not produced by the glare of a computer monitor. He felt pretty dejected, however, when he realized that Chris would never willingly consider an activity that took more than a few hours away from his studies.