Face The Music

by Andrea K. Robbins

  “Hi.” Chris smiled down at me, but his expression was guarded.

  I grinned a little, but my mouth was full. Using my napkin, I covered my lips and muttered, “Happy Birthday, Chris!”

  “Thanks. I’m starving,” he said, eyeing my pizza. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

  He returned within minutes, his plate piled high.

  “Here, I have something for you.” I handed him a brightly wrapped tube. “Happy Birthday,” I said again.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Of course I did, it’s your birthday! You should have told me, you know. Everyone needs a present on their birthday. It’s the law.” I gave him a cheesy grin.

  He took his time tearing at the wrapping paper. Once he had it pulled off, he wadded it into a dense ball, set it on the table, and pulled the rolled-up poster from the cardboard tube. His brown eyes sparkled when he looked at me. “You really didn’t have to.”

  “Just open it!”

  I watched his face as he unrolled the poster and studied the picture. “Oh, wow. This is great. Thank you, very much.”

  Cynthia walked by and snickered. “A dirty old poster? Some present, Allie. You really went all out, didn’t you?” In no mood to listen to her rants, I started to get up from my chair, but Chris rested a heavy hand on my thigh. The touch made my stomach flip.

  Cynthia handed him a small, neatly wrapped box. “Here, open this.”

  Under the wrapping paper was a blue velvet box, and inside that, a watch. It had a chunky silver band, a large black dial, and silver hands. It put my poster to shame.

  He pulled it out and held the band between his fingers. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s titanium. Now every time you check the time, you can think of me!” she said tunefully. “Here, let me.” She grabbed his left hand and clasped it around his wrist.

  I waited until she was gone to comment. “She must have paid a fortune for that!”

  “Who knows?” He shrugged. “I’m sure her daddy bought it. It’s not like she has any idea of what it’s like to have a real job.” He told me that Cynthia’s father was a wealthy financial advisor for some big company.

  We ate our pizza, and I wondered whether or not I should bring up the kiss. It was really bothering me. The only thing I could think of was that I had upset him with my question about his past. But, he had kissed me after I’d asked, so that really didn’t make any sense. Unless that was his way of getting me to back off.

  Chris looked at me as he chewed. “I can almost see those wheels spinning in your head. What’s on your mind?”

  I decided not to bring it up. Not here, with all these people around, anyway. “It’s going to be strange without Sam around,” I said instead.

  He opened his mouth to say something but then froze, and in a very low, serious tone, whispered, “Don’t move.”

  “What?” I asked, alarmed.

  He stared at me, his face frozen, eyes wide. “There’s a spider.”

  I jumped up and felt my face turn white as I scanned the table for the horrible eight-legged monster.

  Chris laughed hard enough that his eyes filled with tears.

  “That’s not funny!”

  He grabbed my hand and tried his best to appear somber, though he barely managed to hold back a grin. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He wiped at his eyes. “But, there really was one. I got it though.” He offered me his crumpled napkin. “Want the evidence?”

  I jumped back and nearly knocked over my chair. “Ewww, no! Chris!”

  He roared with laughter, but I failed to see the humor. I just looked at him and shook my head. “Remember,” I said calmly after watching him squirm under my glare, “paybacks are a bitch.”

  The amusement that spread across his face had been worth every second of torture.

  Someone across the room announced that it was time for cake. Jake stood by me as we sang Happy Birthday.

  “Did you get the note about the meeting on Thursday?” he asked as Chris blew out the candles.

  “What meeting?”

  He filled me in on the details. Apparently there was a mandatory, full-staff meeting scheduled for eight o’clock Thursday night to discuss the final weeks of the show.

  “That’s dumb,” I complained. “Why do I have to be there? I only have one student.”

  “I don’t want to go either,” he said.

  “Maybe I can claim ignorance. You know, since no one ever told me.”

  ***

  Unfortunately, that plan was blown when I found the email in my inbox. The word ‘mandatory’ was bold and twice the size of the other font. I’d have to skip my class that night.

  I arrived at the meeting room a few minutes prior to eight and spotted Jake sitting with some of the guys from the camera crew. He waved me over. Chris and the remaining Stars were at a rectangular table on the opposite side of the room. Cynthia had her seat pulled up close to Chris’s. She was nearly in his lap.

  Jake gave me a tedious smile. “I hate meetings.”

  “Me too. I still don’t know why we all have to be here for this.”

  Mr. Doveland, the producer, stood and called the meeting to order. He made some announcements, thanked us all for coming, and hoped we would be comfortable as final plans were discussed. “Help yourselves to the appetizers,” he said. “Don’t be shy, there’s plenty to go around.”

  “Hungry?” Jake asked. “I’m going to fill a plate. Want anything?”

  I looked through the options, deciding on a mini cheeseburger, a couple of stuffed mushrooms, and a handful of chips. I spotted a platter of chocolate covered strawberries, took two, and dabbed a dollop of whipped cream on the side.

  Jake and I sat back down as the assistant producer went over ratings. I suppose the information was important, but I didn’t pay much attention. It’s not like any of it affected me.

  The burger was tasteless, so after only a bite I pushed it to the side of the plate. I picked up a strawberry, smeared some whipped cream across it, and took a bite. Juice dribbled down my chin, and I hurried to catch it with a napkin before it dripped on my shirt. Jake reached over and wiped some whipped cream off my cheek.

  I picked at the rest of my food and sat quietly, pretending to pay attention to whoever was speaking, but, in all honesty, I didn’t care, and soon was lost in my own thoughts. I was thinking about that kiss when a blob of whipped cream landed on my nose. I looked up, surprised, to see Jake quivering with silent laughter.

  I casually wiped it away with my finger. When he turned his head, I smeared it in his ear. Giggles erupted from our table, but, thankfully, we didn’t cause too big of a disruption.

  My face was sticky, so during our break I went to the restroom to wash up. I almost hit Jake with the door on my way out. “Jake!” I shrieked. “Watch out!”

  “Trying to plow me over, huh? Gee, thanks.” He leaned in closer and examined my face. “You missed some.”

  I reached up to find the stowaway food, but was instead surprised when Jake bent forward and kissed me. It wasn’t anything big and wasn’t even in the same league as Chris’s, but it was still a kiss. He pulled away and tilted his head. The corners of his mouth pulled up into a small, playful smirk. “Got it,” he whispered.

  Without thinking, I reached up and touched my lips. I wasn’t angry, but I certainly didn’t want to encourage any more surprises like that.

  “Don’t say anything,” he said, trapping me in between his arms against the wall. “Let me go first. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  He looked up and down the hall before settling his eyes on me. “We started something a few months back, between us, I mean, and I thought it was going great. And then it all just kind of fizzled out, and I can’t figure out why.”

  I leaned my head against the wall and took a breath. “Things just didn’t-”

  He pressed a finger to my lips. “Let me finish. I want to pick things back u
p. I’m sorry for whatever I did that turned you off, and I want you to give me another chance. You’re the greatest, and I really think we could be amazing together.”

  This was one of those rare times when Jake was being totally serious, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I liked Jake, a lot, but I didn’t have romantic feelings for him. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said slowly. “It just wasn’t right for me. I like you, but not in that way.”

  “Why not? Because I’m not a Superstar?” Resentment tainted his voice.

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “I’m being totally serious. Any fool can see that you’re head-over-heels for that guy, but I don’t see why he’s so great. You and me, we’ve got a history.”

  “A very brief history,” I reminded him. “Besides, what about all those other girls?”

  “Like who?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember the name of that girl he’d been so eager to tell me about after the card party. Mandy? Melissa? I couldn’t remember. “It doesn’t matter. Please, Jake, try to understand. I really want us to be friends, but I can’t promise you anything more than that.”

  “I want all of you or none of you,” he stated, folding his arms across his chest.

  I stared at him for several seconds, angry tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t want to lose Jake as a friend, but I wasn’t about to give in to an ultimatum. “Well, I’m really sorry you feel that way.”

  I left after that, skipping out on the second half of the meeting. I didn’t care if anyone noticed. What would they do, fire me?

  Chapter 18

  If there was a lesson to be learned from Jake’s confession, it was the importance of being straightforward with the people you cared about. I needed to set the record straight with Chris. And I needed to do it soon.

  I tried calling several times over the weekend, but he never answered or called back. Who even knew if any of my messages had gone through?

  Monday I set out to find him. I searched the studio, the rehearsal rooms, the snack bar, even the recording booth, but he was nowhere.

  I did, however, find Jake pacing one of the long hallways.

  “Hi.” I offered a tentative smile.

  He didn’t even look at me. He just stood there, drooping shoulders, clenched jaw, lower lip jutting out.

  Good Lord, he’s pouting. What is he, three?

  Determined not to allow my irritation to get the best of me, I kept my voice gentle. “Can’t you even talk to me?”

  He closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. I don’t know what else there is to say.” His gaze was fixed on the space above my head, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans.

  I risked taking a step closer. “I want you to be happy. If you can’t do that with me in your life, as your friend, I understand. But no matter what, I’ll always care about you.”

  His expression softened, but he still wouldn’t look at me.

  I stared at him for several seconds, hoping he’d say something, but he remained quiet. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.” I turned to resume my hunt for Chris.

  “I know I’m being difficult,” he called after I’d taken a few steps. “I want to be a part of your life. You’re just not an easy one to get over. I’m sorry.”

  My heart swelled, but I felt a hundred pounds lighter. “Thank you.”

  I never did find Chris. I hadn’t talked to him since his birthday party, so that evening I was especially curious to watch the show.

  He was dressed in all black, standing at a mic at the center of the stage. A soft guitar sequence played, and Chris stood motionless, hands hanging at his sides, head bowed. Jets of steam erupted from either side of him, and slowly, deliberately, he looked up and started singing.

  It was a dark, foreboding song, Shinedown’s 45. His voice was thick and heavy as he sang, laced with discontent. Not a single emotion colored his expression.

  He held this position until the chorus, at which point he ripped the mic off its stand and stormed across the stage. It was unsettling to watch, as if a cloud of emotions had been set loose within him. Anger, rage, fury, and pain. By the end of the song he was on his knees, nearly screaming. When the music faded, he let his arms fall to his sides. His head dropped forward. Only his shoulders moved, rising and falling as he worked to catch his breath.

  I didn’t know what to think. He looked exasperated. Was it part of his act for the performance, or had something really happened? I couldn’t tell for sure.

  “Whoa!” said Lucy once the lights came back on. She stared up at the stage. “Wow. I don’t even know what to say. I’ve got chills, but I don’t think they’re the good kind. That was almost scary, Chris.”

  He glowered and fidgeted with the mic. “Sorry. Rough week.”

  “I guess so,” she said, turning to Stella. “What’d you think?”

  “The performance was certainly full of emotion, and I appreciate the attempt,” she said, “but that isn’t exactly what we’re looking for. It was too much.”

  Chris looked like he wanted to melt into the backdrop.

  Eddie drummed his fingers on the desk. “You have so much power up there. It was interesting to see this side of you, so full of rage. But, I don’t think that’s the kind of performer you are. A happy Chris is much more likable.”

  At the end of the show, I held my breath. I was almost nauseous thinking that he would be let go. Something must have happened. Whatever it was was bad enough that it had affected his performance. I wondered if that was why I hadn’t seen him all week.

  Relief came when the judges decided to give him another chance. Melody also remained safe.

  I was absolutely determined to talk to him the next day. I found him at the snack bar, sharing a table with Cynthia. She was picking at a salad, and he was thumbing through a stack of sheet music.

  “Chris! Hi!” I said cheerfully as I approached the table. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  He didn’t even look up. “Hello, Allison.” The chill those two words carried was enough to freeze the Arctic. It resonated through me, leaving no doubts of his mood. Cynthia put down her fork and sat back in her chair, looking from me to him.

  “Mind if I sit?” I asked.

  He shrugged, so I planted myself in the chair across from him.

  Patches of stubble softened the normally sharp lines of his sideburns. Deep creases marked his forehead, and his eyes were rimmed with red. He looked like he’d been up for days.

  “What’s been going on? I’ve tried calling, did you get any of my messages?”

  He glanced at me, but then looked back down at his music. “I’ve been around.”

  Cynthia’s presence was distracting. “Can you give us a minute?” I asked her. My tone was snarky, but I didn’t care.

  She made a big commotion out of picking up her salad and taking it to another table. Clearly, I was causing her great inconvenience. Good.

  Knowing she would still be listening, I spoke softly. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I reached across the table and touched his arm.

  He jerked away and lifted his head to meet my gaze. There was fire behind his dark eyes. “I’m fine.” His voice was nothing more than a growl.

  “Are you?”

  We stared at each other for several seconds, neither of us looking away. In that brief time, I saw a whirlwind of emotions flood his face.

  “Do you mind?” He lifted his pages. “I’m working.”

  I was shocked. Never had he treated me so callously. It was like he was deliberately trying to hurt my feelings, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Yes, I do mind, actually.” I snatched the music from his hands. “What’s the hell’s the matter with you? Talk to me.”

  Cynthia giggled, but composed herself when Chris shot her an irritated look.

  He returned his gaze to me, a cold, penetrating stare that raised the hair on my arms. “Why don’t
you go talk to Jake?”

  I flinched at his sharp tone. It was like his tongue was lashing out at me, each word marring my skin. “What are you talking about? What’s this got to do with Jake?”

  He smacked his palms against the table. “Allie, dammit, what are you doing?”

  I stared at him, wracking my brain to try and make some sense out of what was happening.

  He cleared his throat and broke away from my stare. “He’s always there. He was there on Valentine’s Day. He was there after your fall, when your grandma died. The guy never leaves!”

  “Jake is my friend, Chris. I don’t see anything unreasonable about what you’re saying.”

  “Did you know he left with someone the night of the poker party?” he asked. “And then days later, he spent the night at your place? The very same night you and I went out? For Christ’s sake!” He looked at me and shook his head.

  I opened my mouth to object, but he cut me off. His voice was a whisper. “You’re going to get hurt. And I’m not talking about what happened when you got into that bar fight, or whatever the fuck that was about. You can’t trust him. Can’t you see it, Allie, or are you too damn blind? Do you even care?”

  I was too stunned to speak. I sat entirely motionless for some time as his insinuations sank in. My hands started to shake. When I was sure I could control my voice, I spoke slowly. “There is nothing going on between me and Jake. I tried to tell you that before, but-”

  “I heard you!” he hissed.

  I fought to keep from losing my temper. “What did you hear?”

  “I heard him tell you how he feels about you. The other night at the meeting. I came to find you during the break, but you were in the hall with Jake.” His face scrunched up as though he found the memory revolting. “I always wondered exactly what your relationship with him entailed, but Thursday night I saw it for myself.”

  My heart beat wildly in my chest. Anger washed through me. “Is that all you heard?” I said through my teeth.

  He gave a sarcastic snort. “Wasn’t that enough? The two of you left together, didn’t you? I didn’t see either of you again after that.”

  I stood up and shoved the chair under the table. “Maybe you should have stuck around to hear the rest of the conversation. Or better yet, maybe you should have asked me about it before jumping to your false conclusions.”