by Alisa Mullen
“Will you try on the outfit, Jules?” Jason asked as he kissed the back of my hand. That simple gesture was so gentle and in that moment, I wanted to be a couple with Jason. Mom and Kent could never know but we would be secretive. He really was so sweet for bringing me a present, although a little weird for me, and spending time with me on my birthday.
I nodded slowly. I started to get up to go to the bathroom when he demanded that I change in front of him. He lay on his back with his hands behind his neck. I made to double check the lock on my door and quickly undressed.
When my shy face looked up to see what kind of reaction he would have, I was taken aback. He was looking at my every private area with rapt attention and I saw the spot near his zipper on his jeans where his penis was growing. Frank’s penis had changed like that a few times and I did touch it once. It was soft, and I liked touching it, but Frank quickly put himself away when we heard people coming down the trails at camp.
I never did make it into my outfit that day. Jason took my virginity away and gave me the first orgasm I ever had. I did wear it the next day he showed up for another round of “tickling”, as he continued to call it. Jason was hot and so sweet to me. To some degree, I knew he was taking advantage of me, but I grew to enjoy our time together. I was addicted to sex, to him, and I was always ready for Jason when he called. I got jealous when he dated other girls and I sometimes kept him waiting to make a point that I wasn’t just anybody. The only thing he ever promised me was that there would be a next time.
Nevertheless, we had a secretive affair for two years. We either met at my house after school and before we expected anyone home or we used a guest bedroom that was on top of his garage when his parents weren’t home. From seventh grade until the night before Jason left for college on the west coast, we learned everything and anything we could about each other’s bodies. He said he would miss me. I told him life wouldn’t be the same. I cried the day he left for college, but not for very long, since I had a date that very night with the sexiest guy in the tenth grade.
By the end of our senior year, my childhood friends and I never acknowledged one another, Jason was long gone from Kent’s and my life, and the OUIJA board was but a faint memory. It wasn’t until I was twenty nine years old that it came back to haunt me.
FIVE
SIXTEEN YEARS LATER
2009
New York City
My dream about the OUIJA board from last night was just another repeat memory to me now as I set up the stage for our show. I sensed something looming over my head all day, like a dusty cloud that never dissipates. It had been a while since I had the dream. Weeks? Maybe months? I wondered why I had one today. Normally, it had something to do with my mood, but I was fine. Everything was right as rain. Putting all that aside, I had to focus. Too much bullshit from the past would mess up my game tonight.
Tiny droplets of sweat appeared in my cleavage just as I took the stage. Dex, a beefy dark haired muscle man, started the beginning drum beats for our first song. It was a chaotic beat that got the whole crowd rip roaring and jumping. I smiled and threw my hands up to the crowd in an all-encompassing welcome. They flailed their arms right back in response. Johnny, the bassist and my former surfer looking blond boyfriend, gave me my signature silver and black Fender guitar and made sure that I saw him wink at me. Every single show, he had to give me that stupid wink. Ass hat. He joined Dex in the beat with his perfect bass banging. I bobbed my head side to side, in an attempt to loosen up my neck for the next forty minute set. One of the worst things about singing and playing guitar was my neck always throbbed in pain post show.
When I strapped on the guitar, my foot immediately found the pedal to fine-tune the distortion. I adjusted the microphone to my five foot three inches and waited for my cue. I closed my eyes and counted down four, three, two, and one... I Sang for You was met with another hurricane of praise. It was, after all, one of our most widespread and popular songs these days.
We are Love Sick Ponies. No, it wasn’t my favorite name at first but it grew on me after about ten minutes. Johnny’s pep talk which outlined how famous we would be with such a rocking name made sense. We had the perfect story to go with our rocking band name. Love Sick Ponies or LSP, voted unanimously by all three of us, was founded on a hilarious, albeit a drug induced memory. Dex, Johnny and I have been friends since college, our band started in our sophomore year. Johnny and I were living together in a small two bedroom apartment in Baltimore after we graduated from the University of Maryland. For years, we took odd jobs and looked for gigs everywhere we could get in, just to pay for rent for that dump.
One night, maybe two years after we moved in together, we decided to eat tripped out mushrooms. After several hours of laughing and chatting a mile a minute, we fixed ourselves on the couch to watch television. While we flipped through the channels on cable we stopped and became instantly fascinated by the cartoon, My Little Pony. I commanded that Johnny record the first episode half way through. We then proceeded to record the following two episodes and scrutinized them over and over until the sun came up. As we started to come down off the high near dawn, we both abruptly noticed that were tangled in a conversation about the sparkles and colors. We were intimately close. He was right there. Delicious enough to kiss.
We found ourselves making out on the couch, while My Little Pony’s theme song rang throughout the apartment. The kissing directed us to my bedroom. There he threw me down on the mattress and started licking my ankles for what felt like hours. His beautiful blonde hair and tanned, muscled chest, Johnny held himself over me in a frozen push-up for three solid hours while he devoured every part of my body. When I finally saw Johnny completely nude for the first time, I had to ask myself why I went against the grain with him. I loved sex, he was hot, and yes, I got the stink eye for at least a full day when I brought any guy home for the night.
Johnny and I fit. We were wild about each other for twenty four hours straight only stopping for food and a quick nap. It was extreme. We didn’t leave our apartment for days, ignoring the phone, ordering delivery, and enforcing a no clothing rule in effect for the duration. I loved Johnny. I loved him solid. Sex with him was not ever what I would call ‘making love’. I was mesmerized by the incredible pleasure he gave me and he was clearly taken with me, as well.
To the outside world, we were the levy that everyone was waiting for to break. I mean break up. Effortlessly, we announced that we were a couple to three older hunters and a metrosexual bartender, who was on the phone the whole time. We still got the applause we sought after... from Dex. Then he begged us to get the show over with so that he could get back to his own girl. We were together for a few years and it was a fun, laid back relationship.
I guess somewhere along the way, Johnny and I started to focus more on the band than our relationship, because when we landed our first real headlining tour, Johnny celebrated by blatantly getting so plastered that he fucked another girl in the back stage bathroom. It was a night to remember because not only did the band get noticed and our relationship went into the gutter, but it was the first time I had ever had the dream about the summer of 1993.
Of course, Johnny claimed the busty blonde threw herself at him, so it wasn’t really his fault. I still account the incident as nature’s way of telling us that we were better as friends and bandmates. I mean, shit. He didn’t even bother to look ashamed when I watched him exit the bathroom, pulling up his pants, and Blondie hanging on to his every word for the rest of the evening. I didn’t feel hurt about his infidelity, but embarrassment was the killer for me. The pitying looks I received from the tour crew were infuriating.
Due to my mortification, I felt the urge to act upon my own sexual desires from that very night on. I kicked Johnny out of our place in Baltimore for good measure. He moved in with Dex until we all left permanently to go wherever our label told us to. I was somewhat disappointed in the expectations I had put on a man, especially Johnny. I had never trusted
men before him and I guess I fell into the trap that nothing bad would ever happen. I assumed we were something special and our relationship would never get so boring that one of us would stray. I was sorely wrong since he still had a penis and it evidently needed the endorsement of numerous women.
I closed my eyes against the pink, green, and yellow strobe lights. Why on earth our tour manager, Danielle, required our band to look like a kaleidoscope on stage, I would never fathom. I twisted to sing to Johnny to dodge being blinded or seeing spots for the rest of the night. I examined his fingers smacking down on the strings and gave my plaid school skirt a little jiggle. He and I did a back and forth guitar dance and as the song neared the ending, I turned to face the masses again. Once again, the flashes and strobe lights caused me momentary blindness. Most nights I really didn’t care that much. It was part of the gig. Tonight, however, I was uptight about it. If I went blind from being a rock star, I wouldn’t know who to sue.
“Hello, New York City!” I roared into the microphone. The crowd went mad and then hushed down to wait for my obligatory speech I made at each show.
“I’m Jules Delaney. That crazy drummer is Dex Parker and the sexy bassist over there is Johnny Lennox. We are Love Sick Ponies and we are so thrilled to be here tonight with Desired Pitch! Lizzie was incredible, yeah?” The crowd screamed and I giggled at their fervor.
“So we are going to bring it down a notch. How about a slow one? Can you guess what it is?” I probed.
The crowd chanted “Leg up, Leg Up, Leg Up.” It was out of control.
I nodded my head enthusiastically and put my mouth back on to the microphone. The beginning solo vocals were sweet on Leg Up. The reverberations, the lyrics, and the energy were more elegant than who I really was beneath all of my eye makeup and piercings. Total contradiction. I don’t know why Dex wrote this song exactly. I considered that his girlfriend had broken up with him for something like the fifth time and he was tired of spending their few days apart drinking himself into oblivion.
Dex would write songs for days and nights around-the-clock. I am a firm believer that these two new songs were the reason for why we were ready to record with Nick Sawyer Productions for our next album. Based out of Boston, NSP was huge because Nick and Lizzie Sawyer had serious abilities and contacts. They had built an incredible company over the past few years and Love Sick Ponies was there every step of the way.
Nick and Lizzie always set us up in a bad ass apartment downtown Boston and it was a blast while we hung out with Desired Pitch. They were like family. The production company became just as widespread as both bands in the past few years. I busted out a wide smile at the thought of spending the ensuing two months in their studio as I initiated the first verse.
You haven’t been home
I called around
No one knows where you can be found.
If I found you, I’d hide you well
I’d make you scream with one leg up. One Leg Up,
I got you baby with one leg up.
I started to play the lead guitar solo in the song when my eyes landed on him. He wasn’t jumping or screaming. He was a stone statue and wholly contented to watch my individual act. He was stunning. He was a man I could look at for days. His black blue hair, his stormed dark eyes were disguised with brown square rimmed glasses and a brown beanie hat. Hot. One full tattooed sleeve peeked out from his Henley and I peered at the arm to make out some of the design. I shook my head in exasperation when I couldn’t see anything that far away. The fucking white spotlight that found my face made me want to throw my guitar across the stage.
After my solo, my eyes danced up to his face and his expression looked intensely thoughtful for a man. I grinned to myself as I looked down at my fingers flying across the strings. He would obviously never know that I was checking him out. People in the crowd never did notice that we, too, looked at the crowd one by one. That was one of the best parts of being on stage. Sure, they were all watching us but we were inspecting them just as much. I was the actual stalker in a room. A big belly laugh erupted out of my throat as I automatically chimed into the chorus.
One Leg Up, Up, Up
One Leg up, up
One leg is all I have when I am with you.
That’s it how it will always be.
I looked to my right and saw him again. He was marginally moving his head back and forth. So the guy liked slow songs, too? Very mysterious man. He looked like a death metal fan and yet he was digging on this love ballad. Oxymoron. The song finished on one long note as I pursed my full lips in his direction as if I was giving him a kiss. His answering smile made me stumble backwards.
My boobs were officially drenched.
Danielle, stealthy as she was when we were on stage, handed me a clean towel and my first bottle of water. It was going to be a long soaking wet night. Johnny and Dex started the next song and fortunately Johnny was on vocals for this one. I hung back and let him take the show over. It gave me time to admire my admirer. His piercing dark eyes took me in. No, he was visually molesting me. They perused me, drinking me in, from my black cowboy boots to my dark hair pulled back into a spiky ponytail. I considered my guitar and was thankful for the first time ever that I had something to focus on. I grinned. If I had it my way, that chunk of sex would be licking my body sweat off in the shower back at the hotel.
Six songs later, I was convinced that I was in love. The fiery looks and burning bursts of energy we exchanged were intense. We were undoubtedly having visual intercourse. No matter how distracted I was, I was spot on with every queue and every lyric. Even the four shots of vodka I had taken before I jumped on the stage didn’t make me lose any brain cells. I was singing to my beanie wearing tatted up hunk and he knew it.
Johnny hurled inquisitive looks my way throughout the last songs. I hit every beat and every breath. He probably had never seen me play so well and maybe I hadn’t. Damn jealous ass face. He recognized that something was going on with me and looked over the crowd to see who I was playing for because it was obviously not for him.
Even though I broke it off with Johnny that night he fucked the busty blonde, he never had another serious girlfriend. He made it clear to everyone who would listen to his love woes that he was waiting for me “to come around”.
He would be waiting a long time. I saw him hook up with indiscriminate chicks under the radar. He wasn’t waiting around for me. His head was just trapped in the past. It was hard not to think of us and that night when we had to say Love Sick Ponies at least twenty times a day. But damn if I wasn’t a love sick pony for erotic beanie guy.
SIX
I sauntered back stage into a flurry of activity. Fans were already waiting for us to sign shit and have a beer with us like we were old buddies. No one knew the true Jules Delaney, the face people associated with our band. Sometimes even I didn’t know me. I was Jules to some, Julia to others. Johnny liked to use both names to let me know which mood he was in at that moment.
Despite the ardent fans that were actually very cool, this was the focused part of my night. After the show is when I found my male conquest for the evening. Johnny had nothing on me as far as ‘under the radar’ goes. I signed a few posters and tickets. I found Danielle on the side of the room. She handed me the obligatory shot and a beer. As I took them she rattled through the list of people that I needed to talk to and handed me a new shirt.
“What? I don’t look fucking sexy in this?” I asked, laughing at her disgusted look. I hugged her and then handed her the empty shot glass, threw the shirt over my shoulder, and headed for the restroom. She called out somebody’s name I had to find after I went to pee. Someone extra important? Yeah, whatever. I nodded back to her like I cared. I would do what I wanted tonight. Tonight was off limits and while we are at it, please make a fucking appointment. Don't these people know I just sang my guts out for hours?
Just as I got to the open door, I slammed right into one of Lizzie’s friends. I had seen him around at t
he last few shows on this tour. He was attractive. Even the tattooed sleeves on both arms didn’t take away that he was hot. With a wide grin, he excused himself.
“Sean, right?” I pointed at him. His expression was priceless. He must have thought I had ignored him outright when Lizzie introduced us. I knew names like my lyrics. They were part of my database vocabulary. I laughed at his bewildered look.
“Yeah, I’m Sean. You are Jules. Or is it Julia?” he questioned. I shrugged.
“We’ve met a few times over the years but I didn’t know that you were paying attention,” he grinned. Over the years? Shit, I thought I had just met him. Well hell. So much for attempting to get my head out of my ass for this conversation. I wondered if he detected my sudden flinch. I tried to save a shred of poise.
“Sure! I love Lizzie and her friends. That means I love you!” I laughed. It was fake as shit. It was like me sticking out two finger pistols with the accompanying smirk that jested, “You matter to me, buddy!”
“Hey, I have to run–gotta put this shirt on since I am drowning in this one,” I said as I considered the sad excuse for a shirt. When I pulled my eyes back up to say bye to Sean, his hand was on someone else’s shoulder. His shoulder.
“Hey Brennan! Lizzie got your pass all straightened out?” Sean asked, not detecting that I was transforming into a love drunk adolescent.
“Yeah, man. Liz got it set up. I am good,” he affirmed, staring beautiful slivers of truth into my eyes. He was more than good. Was he a mind reader because I swear he knew exactly what I was thinking...which was... hell if I knew?
I held out my hand to introduce myself, waiting in anticipation for his touch. I waited for the sizzling electricity that I already knew was there between us. I was thirsting for it. It had to be there. That was one fact I knew for sure.
“I’m Jules. Or Julia. Julia Delaney.” I wanted to make sure he knew that he could call me any name he wanted. Bitch would even be okay if he was going to stick around and talk to me.