by Leah Spiegel
“Humbling, definitely,” I stressed while smiling.
We were silent for a moment as I gazed out at the distant stars along the horizon. Hawkins leaned with his arms back behind him. He looked so at ease on the stage. His blue eyes flashed over to mine, knowing full well that I was checking him out. Biting my lip, I quickly looked away. He softly chuckled to himself and I could feel my face flush all over again.
“So, umm,” I mumbled. God! Think of something to say! Think!
“Do you ever think about the great legends that have played on this stage before you?” I asked him while staring at the distant gray seats.
“Oh, well, yeah.” He looked over at me, clearly caught off guard for a moment. “Like Dave Matthews!”
“Shut-up.”
“No, I mean really, Dave Matthews has walked on this stage,” he said with awe in a playful, mocking way.
I suppressed a smile, nearly on the edge of laughter, while shaking my head at him. He cleared his throat and turned serious. “Of course I do. We played at this small theater once in New York. You wouldn’t know it by looking at it, but so many incredible musicians had played there before. I mean legends,” he emphasized. “And all I kept thinking in the back of my mind while singing on that stage is, I’m standing right where John Lennon once stood, Bob Dylan too. Talk about an out of body experience.” His eyes widened. “I still get chills from just thinking about it.” He rubbed his arms and looked away from me.
“I felt small and insignificant, a shadow of a man.” He laughed. “That night,” he sighed as he gazed ahead of him again. “That’s for sure.” We looked out at the distant sky.
“I know that it’s none of my business,” he was the first to speak, “but is it true what Lizzie said?”
Closing my eyes from the painful memory, I murmured, “Yes.”
“So these rules,” he asked, “are because of him?”
“No, they’re because of what I did or allowed myself to do because I liked him,” I confessed. “It’s really not that interesting of a story…seriously.” The last thing I wanted to share with Hawkins was my embarrassing account of what happened with Jake. It didn’t exactly shed a good light on me.
“Try me,” he said earnestly.
“It’s really not worth it,” I said more insistently.
“No, bullshit.” He smiled.
“Errr,” I growled at him in frustration while he laughed.
“When my dad died this past year,” I looked down at my lap, “I got really depressed.” I pressed my lips together with the memory. “It was like I was just aimlessly drifting through the suffering,” I confessed to him. “But then Jake came along and he anchored me. He gave me a reason to get out of bed every day,” I explained as I pulled my legs up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them.
“He was the only one who could distract me long enough to not feel the pain of my father’s death,” I sighed heavily. “In a way he healed me.
“But I was just stupid about it. At first he wouldn’t call so I called him. He would talk to me for a minute and then he’d say he had to go. I would walk up to him at school, but he wouldn’t talk long. I didn’t pick up on any of the clues. He was done with me and I didn’t know.
“When he suddenly became distant all I could feel was the gut-wrenching pain of my father’s death again. I kind of lost it,” I said no louder than a whisper as I stared dejectedly down at the ground.
“I showed up to a party of his that I wasn’t invited to and not only did he kick me out in front of everyone,” I rolled my eyes, “he announced that he had been dating my best friend behind my back the entire time.”
“Wow,” Hawkins whispered, obviously taken back by what he was hearing.
“Yeah, it was actually a lot worse since everyone seemed to know but me. I didn’t have many friends that I could trust after that,” I drifted off. “It’s how Riley and I became so close. He was my support system and, believe it or not, Lizzie was like my bodyguard. As you can tell tonight, she isn’t someone you want against you!”
“Just type in my name on YouTube and you can see it for yourself.” I forced a laugh. God, why was I admitting all of this to him?
“And the rules?” he asked without a single inflection of condemnation in his tone.
“So I never allow myself to get that blinded by my stupidity again.” I looked at him intently. “I was a joke. No…I let myself become a joke. In all honesty, I don’t trust my decisions anymore,” I confessed. “And these rules, these rules keep me safe.”
“Did you ever think that maybe he was doing you a favor?”
“Honestly,” I said brightly while remembering that night. “No.”
“You probably wouldn’t be here with me now, would you?” Hawkins glanced over at me and his expression suddenly softened. Looking at him, I was stunned. We had done the whole belittling antics so much, I was waiting for the punch line.
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“Make of that what you will,” he said lightly. “You’re a smart girl.”
“So opening up to someone who is constantly tweeting negative things about me, is me being smart?” I flashed him a knowing smile while teasing him.
“I haven’t been hiding anything from you either,” he reminded me in the same serious tone.
“Are we stupid, or what?” I whispered. “I mean aren’t we supposed to be publicly bashing each other?”
“If you noticed, we haven’t been doing that too well,” he said quietly while frowning.
Just then I watched as the lights flickered up above us.
“Freaking economy,” Hawkins grumbled. “I can’t even afford to pay them for five minutes of peace and quiet.”
“Are they waiting on us?” I asked in astonishment while looking from one side of the stage to the other.
Hawkins laughed as he got up. “I’m only joking. Here.” He reached out for my hand and helped me up.
“That’s just my cue to let me know that everyone is leaving,” he told me as we crossed the stage. “Thank you, Atlanta! You were great,” he yelled over his shoulder at the empty pavilion. “Though, I could have done without the prick blinding me with the laser pointer.”
I laughed as he led the way off-stage to where Harrison was standing. Hawkins nodded at the bodyguard before we passed him. Grabbing my cell phone out of my pocket, I said, “I guess I need to figure out—”
“What parking lot you’re going back to?” He finished for me with a knowing smirk.
“Actually,” I laughed, “yes.”
“Just because you’re not a groupie…” he started to say. “Listen, someone who was particularly close to Blakely is dead now. And I don’t think that he’s going to stop with just Jeff.” His face fell, looking suddenly saddened. It was the first time Hawkins had dropped his usual stoic expression. This was not just a crew member, I realized in that moment, this was a friend.
“But this thing we do with the public,” he rolled his eyes, “now makes you as big of a target as myself. The idea of you somewhere unprotected and alone drives me crazy.” He looked down at me tenderly. “If you stay with me I promise to be on my best behavior,” he whispered. “I won’t make any unexpected jabs at your writing abilities or anything, scout’s honor,” he added, trying to make light of the situation.
“But we’ll kill each other,” I whispered.
“That’s a fair assumption.” He nodded. “But I’m willing to take the chance.”
What if he got sick of me? Yeah, sure, we flirted with each other now, but how would it be twenty-four seven?
“This is too much to ask,” I decided.
“How about this,” he wagered. “Just stay with me tonight and we’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.” I hesitated so he added, “It’s that simple. No commitments.” He held his hands up.
“I’ll just be in the way,” I continued.
“Oh, now you care,” he emphasized. “When did all this start?” He flashe
d me a devious smile. I knew that he took this as a yes because of the way he took my hand and led me down the hallway. It’s only one night, I thought to myself. How much could I mess up in that short span of time?
He looked over at me expectantly as we walked.
“Ah, I started to care…” I thought about it. “Honestly, sometime after you tweeted those comments about Lizzie,” I confessed as we exited the venue and approached his bus.
“So it worked?” He arched his eyebrow.
“What, you were trying to make me jealous of Lizzie?”
His smile widened in an acknowledgement.
“Yeah, mission accomplished. I guess I didn’t want you to…” I hesitated with the exact wording, “to tap that.”
He threw his head back and busted out laughing. It seemed to come from somewhere deep down inside of him like nothing else could make him happier. I liked knowing I could make him laugh for once. I continued to watch him when he turned to say to me, “That was good.”
The smile faded from his face as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing,” I lied.
“It’s the bus, isn’t it?” he asked more seriously. “Your rules again?”
“Oh, no.” I tried to assure him, but before I knew it he had swept me up off my feet and into his arms. “Here,” he said. “If I carry you into the bus myself then you don’t have to worry about your decision.”
“Put me down,” I told him while wishing I weighed just a few pounds lighter.
“How else am I going to get you up here?” he said, gingerly carrying me up the steps.
“You make a good point,” I said, playing along.
He carried me past the kitchen area and into his bedroom in the back.
A flat screen T.V. was against the wall next to me and across from his bed. A closet was to the left with photos tacked on it. A bathroom was past the closets. My gaze drifted up to a skylight above his bed. A few stars twinkled down from the night sky. He laid me down on the soft, blue comforter of his king-sized bed. Immediately, I jumped up and stared at him wide eyes. Just because I agreed to the bus didn’t mean that I was sleeping with him.
“I know,” he held up a hand, “I know.”
“I’m not—”
“A groupie,” he finished my sentence while trying to keep a serious face. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re my guest, so I thought you should have the bed,” he said while gathering some extra sheets and a pillow from the nearby closet.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurted out.
“Me?” he gasped while tilting around to point at himself. “Whatever do you mean? I’m always nice to you,” he said with a mockingly shocked expression.
“Umm, remember, no bullshit,” I sang.
Pausing for a moment, a troubled expression came across his face as he turned back around to grab another sheet from his closet. The mood had suddenly changed and I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Actually,” he tilted his head in my direction, “in all the confusion of this morning I was told that not only was Monroe killed, but,” he turned away from me, “that you were dead, too.”
Feeling my mouth drop, I stared up at him.
“And for a second, before they could clear it up,” he confessed while fiddling with the silken edge of the blanket, “I was devastated.”
We locked eyes with each other for the longest three seconds of my life. “It took something like that to suddenly make everything so clear,” he mumbled under his breath before he turned around and headed out of the room.
Digesting the surprising news of why he wasn’t grilling me with questions and mocking me with harsh laughter, I didn’t notice him pause at the door. This morning had scared him, too, but in a way I had not expected.
“So, umm.” He looked back at me somewhat awkwardly. I could tell by the way he was acting and from past experience that he wasn’t used to confessing things like his feelings. “Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Well, I’ll be just right outside.” He gestured towards the hallway. “So…goodnight.”
“Night,” I murmured.
Watching him walk out of the room, I slowly laid back on Hawkins’ bed while thinking about his confession. So he was worried for me? Kicking off my shoes, I decided to just sleep in my clothes on top of his comforter and turned on my side, tucking my hands under his pillow. There was a narrow stream of light coming in from the crack of the door. The faint pleasant scent of his cologne lingered in the room as Hawkins shuffled around outside. Although I should have been tired, especially after the kind of day I had, I had never felt more awake as I watched the lights go out in the next room. After another ten minutes, I could tell Hawkins wasn’t asleep either. That or he tossed and turned a lot in his sleep. My mind kept playing different scenarios that all led to Hawkins joining me in bed. How crazy was that?
Why was I fighting this? I was eighteen. Tossing on my back while staring up at the ceiling, I imagined that Hawkins was doing the same thing. Little pricks of gleaming stars shined through the skylight. A soft sigh came through the other side of the door where Hawkins lay. The man did just confess that an existence without me would be devastating. Yet I was still lying there deciding what I should do. Sitting up, I decided it was now or never.
I slid out of the bed before I could even give it a second thought and crossed the room for the door. My hand literally shook as I pulled the door open. Suddenly, I was wondering, what if he didn’t want to be with me? Horrified by that thought, I was frozen with fear. How come I didn’t think of that before I got out of bed?
“Are you okay, Joie?” Hawkins sat up.
Speechless, I just stood there.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice filled with concern as he stood up.
“I want,” I hesitated.
Oh, my god, I am an idiot! I hate me, I hate me!
“You want what?” he asked.
“To live a little,” I confessed in one breath.
His forehead knitted together before he muttered gruffly, “Okay?”
My stomach dropped as my knees went all bendy and weak. “You know,” I prompted him, “to live a little.”
“When you say live a little…do you mean sex?” I could hear the slight comical infliction in his tone.
“Yes,” I whimpered.
“But you’re not a groupie?” The amusement in his tone was perfectly clear this time.
“You know what, never mind,” I said, exasperated, and turned around to head back into his bedroom. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me down against him.
“I don’t want our first time to be because you wanted to live a little,” he whispered while cradling me against his body.
“The whole devastating thing,” I confessed, “had me sold.”
“I didn’t say it to get laid.” He soothingly brushed back my hair while his lips rested against the side of my shoulder.
“Are your hands shaking?” He went to pick up my hand, but I playfully slapped him away.
“I think I surprised myself,” I said in a small voice.
“Shocked, not surprised,” he said. “Because you looked shocked.” He softly chuckled.
“Shut up.” I laughed with him.
“I was really worried there for a second.” The humor in his voice was once again unmistakable. “I thought maybe The Grimm Reaper was back there with you, too.”
“Hysterical.” I smiled.
“Little did I know those were your bedroom eyes.” He tapped my nose.
Laying on my back, I looked up at him while laughing. It was so infectious that Hawkins started to laugh, too.
The laughter subsided while we continued to stare at each other. My hand instantly rose so I could let my fingertip trace over his soft, full lips. He watched me with those mesmerizing, tender eyes as I pulled my hand away. His eyes searched for mine when he leaned in to kiss me. Breakin
g away, I had to say it. I had to tell him. He looked down at me as his brow furrowed together in alarmed confusion.
“I would have been devastated, too,” I murmured as his expression softened. “I would have.” He put a finger to my lips to silence me before he leaned in to kiss me again.
10. TOO MANY SECRETS
When I woke up, I heard Hawkins humming happily to himself from the kitchen area. I was grateful for the gray curtain divider along the side of the bunk bed that Hawkins must have pulled across to let me sleep. Wrapped around me was a cool, white sheet that smelled just like him. It was sweet and musky. Forcing myself to sit up, I pushed the sheet off me. After running my hands through my hair to straighten out a serious case of bed head, I ran my finger along my front teeth. Boy, I was thankful for the privacy.
“Joie, you up?”
“Ah huh, yep.” Falling back into the pillow with exasperation, I buried my hands over my face. Wow, just when I thought he couldn’t see me looking any worse.
Pulling back the thick curtain, I gave myself a moment for my eyes to adjust. Then I stood up and flattened out my jeans before walking down the aisle towards him. His back was to me as he sat at the kitchen booth while singing softly to himself. The light from the nearby window washed over him. Papers, napkins, and Burger King paper bags with dark scribbling along them covered every surface of the table in front of him. Balled up pieces of paper were tossed carelessly to the ground below.
“Good…morning.” I peeked over his shoulder.
“Morning.” He smiled up at me. A sexy hint of a five o’clock shadow showed along his face making his blue eyes shimmer and rosy lips flush in contrast. His dark, careless hair jetted back from his forehead. It was the sexy morning look that very few people could pull off. He looked rugged…rugged and hot.
“There’s some orange juice and food in the fridge.” He thumbed over to it. “You can just help yourself.”
Free food? I swear I thought I heard angels singing in the distance when I opened the door and looked down at the packed fridge. I was starving. There was every kind of breakfast food— donuts, muffins, croissants, but I felt Hawkins watching me so I sadly grabbed up the large fruit tray. I put it on the only uncovered space near the fridge and leaned up against a nearby kitchen counter. Popping a small pineapple square into my mouth, I looked down at Hawkins. He had a sharpie and was writing a string of words on a napkin.