by Alisa Mullen
“We laughed it off until she started calling the girls who were doing the board names. One of them threw the board across the room and when I turned back around, it was back in place in front of them.” Kent visibly shivered. I didn’t. I knew what it felt like because I still had the dreams. They weren’t every night but they happened enough that some nights I prayed that they didn’t come.
“That sort of happened to us, too,” I said, remembering how the pointer worked without us even touching it. Kent nodded and looked down at the ground, kicking a rock.
“Krysta cheated on me that next week. She got pregnant real early, like the day after graduation with some douchebag from Concord. The last time I saw her, she was working at a diner and came on to me... using her obvious boob job as the main attraction.”
“No shit?” I laughed. I didn’t know what else to do. I probably would have gone that way, too, if I didn’t have my music.
“The other girls I don’t know about but every time I try to throw that damn box away, it shows back up. I tossed it in the river one night with one of the Jasons, and the next day, it showed up on my bed, completely dry.” Kent’s piercing eyes didn’t distract me from the tremor in his voice. Had he been more affected by the OUIJA board that I was?
“You have to keep it away from the girls,” I said in a panic.
“Well, that’s just it. After several attempts to get rid of the board, and I mean fire, trashing it with a hammer, running over it with a car, I had no idea what to do.” Kent turned around and stood to look at the volcanos with his hands in his pockets.
“I thought I was going to go crazy so I went to see Grace’s father in jail. I acted like I was doing a college paper on murderers within the familial structure,” he laughed hollowly. “I asked him if he did he killed her, you know, just to act like I was genuinely interested in that aspect of the story. I asked him about Grace. He was awful, Julia.” He shook his head and turned his head to look at me with a sad smile.
“He called her a nice little slut. A nice little slut. That poor little girl had to listen to him call her that for years while he... he hurt her. The day she finally fought back, she was on the way home from helping her cousin get to daycare. He pulled up in his truck and grabbed her. I guess he was drunk and she got tired of his shit. He said he drove them out to the woods and she tried really hard to claw at his eyes. That’s when he called her a crazy slut. He explained the whole thing in detail, Julia. He strangled her until she couldn’t scream anymore. Then he... you know.” Kent bent over, put his hands on his knees, and let out a few deep breaths.
I couldn’t look away from him. I was sick. I felt sick for Grace, a poor little girl who couldn’t defend herself. And if what Kent was telling me, Grace was just repeating what her father had called her over and over again, which meant...
I am not a slut.
I had a wonderful upbringing, despite my father abandoning us. I had a good mother and a very loving older brother. I had wonderful friends at one time but Grace’s father, that fucking psychopath, ruined not only one little girl’s life, but many others–including mine. He killed my self-esteem the day he murdered Grace. I believed in that board because Grace proved it to be true by telling us who killed her. But she never meant to make me think I was a slut. She was telling me that she was. My whole world tipped upside down and right side out. I had been betrayed since I was twelve. I believed. I was wrong.
If I could tell my twelve year old self that it was a bunch of fucking crap, would she have listened to me? How could I prove to her how I turned out? In that moment, I cared about what others thought of me. I had been so wrong all of my life and I had done so many despicable things. I thought that life was black and white. I am a rocker so I rock. I am a lover so I love. I was a slut so I fucked a married man... two married men. I broke hearts, left debris in my wake, and focused on one thing besides the stage. Penis.
I felt Kent wrap his arms around me. I wanted to tell him everything but it was too late. There wasn’t anything good that would come out of me ridding myself of all of my sins to my brother. Plus, I had no doubt he would hunt Jason #2 down and kill him. I thought about Kent’s family and how I suddenly longed to be back in our house, doing it all over again. He was such a great father. I still looked up to him.
Brennan’s face flashed through my mind and I just about crawled up Kent’s body for comfort. I needed to feel safe and I didn’t want to let go. We hugged for what felt like hours. It was beautiful.
“So why do you want the girls to keep it?” I asked, finally drawing away from him.
“Oh hell, I don’t. But one night, Chloe and I did it. When Grace came out and started saying the words, we just started to tell her we were sorry. We chanted it like we were in a fucking meditation or something,” he laughed. “Chloe gets into that shit. She believes in tea leaves and tarot cards so I just went along with her hair brained idea.”
Kent looked at me with a determined expression. “Then when we did it again the next week we got nothing. She wasn’t there anymore. It’s just a board game now that moves if you move it. As it should be. And to answer your next question? I haven’t gotten rid of it because it is a reminder of the day I lost my Julia Child.” A small tear fell from the side of his eye and he quickly wiped it away.
“You didn’t lose me, Kent. I just got lost for a while. I have turned my life around, you know? With guys,” I said, trying to smile. I wondered about Emily and Angela. How were they doing? Were they happy? Had they been affected by the board, too?
“So do you love him?” Kent asked. He didn’t look convinced by the apprehensive expression on his face. Kent didn’t know Johnny well enough. I knew Johnny would always be there for me. He was my safe place. We had grown up together in so many ways. I nodded with a small grin. Kent mirrored my nod but didn’t return the grin.
“You are a passionate person. Any man who calls you his, is a very lucky guy,” he said as he shoved his hand through his hair.
“Shut up,” I laughed. “You are such a big sap.” We stood and smiled at each other as the sun started to fall down in the sky.
That night, as Johnny and I lay in bed, I told him the whole story behind the OUIJA board. At first, he made fun of me and told me that I was ridiculous to believe in shit like that, but once I told him that Kent had not only experienced the same thing, but followed up on Grace’s story, that seemed to shut him right up.
“I wish I could go back and do something different. Maybe if Emily, Angela, and I had stayed friends, I wouldn’t have ended up the high school slut or worse...” I said on a sigh.
“We all end up where we are because of small little moments like those. Think of this,” Johnny said, throwing his head up on his hand to look down at me. He was a pretty man. So fit and tatted and he had face that melted women’s panties everywhere he went. “If you had stayed friends with those girls, you wouldn’t have spent any time on singing and music. We wouldn’t have met at college and you wouldn’t be the hot rocker you are today,” he smirked, as he pulled on my belly button ring.
His fingers walked up to my chest, underneath my shirt, and drew circles around my areolas. My nipples peaked and he leaned over to flick them with his tongue ring. I groaned.
“I do love sex,” I moaned.
“God, Jules. I don’t love anything more than having sex with you,” Johnny murmured, whispering his tongue up my neck to my ear lobe. He hit the exact spot on my neck, I started to meow, and rub up against him like a cat in heat. The spot, which only two men knew about, made me say and do things out of my control. It was like... crackle, fizz alert, alert, shut down... Jules’ brain is in shut down mode. Sex kitten Jules is present and accounted for. Keep licking that spot... and I am lost.
Johnny grabbed my hips and turned us around so I was on top of him. I stripped off my bedtime tank top and could feel his erection through my small thong. He sat up and continued to flick his tongue at my nipples. As I moved up to place them in his mouth better, he p
ulled off his boxers, my thong, and sat me back on top of him. Our collective sighs of relief made us look into each other’s eyes. I pressed down while he pushed up and we both smiled at each other in enthusiasm.
“I love you,” he moaned, as I started to set our pace. Johnny had started saying that to me since our interview, and I had yet to say it back. Of course I loved him. Of course! I just didn’t know how... quite yet. Did I see a future with him? Yes. If our band split up tomorrow and we both had to find jobs at Walmart? That age old question of would you still love me if... That was the one that tripped me up because I am not sure I would still love him the way I do if we were anything but this.
Sometimes, I felt like I was cheating on Johnny because every so often, like maybe daily, Brennan’s face flashed through my head during the hot sex we had. So, when I asked myself if I truly loved Johnny, I couldn’t help but think about the fire that burned in my stomach when I thought of being in Brennan’s arms. My mind wanted to tell my heart and stomach to shut the fuck right up. Brennan and his stupid wife were two sick sons of bitches. They had no consideration for people outside their loveless, sick, and twisted marriage of hokey pokey that never turns itself around. It all just falls.
And why am I thinking about the conscience of two people who are not in my life while Johnny is climaxing inside of me? Shit, I was thinking so much that I forgot to have an orgasm. I rolled off him and we both caught our breath. Johnny turned to me and cleared his throat.
“When are you gonna say it back?” he asked between his deep breaths. He looked hurt, and maybe slightly suspicious.
“You know I love you, Bren... ” I quickly popped my hand over my mouth and my eyes widened as large as his did.
“Oh, you have got to fucking be kidding me,” Johnny exclaimed, popping off the bed to retrieve his boxers.
“I’m sorry. It was the whole OUIJA board thing. I’ve been processing a lot of my sexual issues with Brennan,” I lied.
“I am so, so sorry. I do love you. I love you so much that I can’t even imagine what life would be like without you in it. Johns, you are everything, and I mean fucking everything to me.”
I was panting, begging, almost tearing up, and he stared at me like I had never spoken before.
“You can’t?” he whispered.
I am confused. “Can’t what, Johnny?” I asked.
“You can’t imagine life without me?” he asked.
I shook my head and put out my arms for him to come to me. He did and just as I started to nibble on his ear, he whispered, “Then marry me, Jules.”
NINETEEN
New York City
The yellow princess cut diamond on my ring finger sparkled and made kaleidoscopes on the walls, as I ran through my guitar solo. We were at the Mix Max Convention Center in Brooklyn and nearing the end of our long three month tour. We were ready to return to Johnny’s small apartment in Manhattan and sleep in, take walks, and plan our next recording.
Johnny had picked the ring out months ago in San Francisco and when he proposed in Vancouver, I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say yes. But I did anyway. We celebrated with my brother and his family the next day. Sometime during the middle of the night, after he had asked me to be his bride, he walked two miles to a nearby river and threw the OUIJA board away. I kept in contact with Kent and it had not reappeared. He knew it was gone for good.
I finally felt like that chapter of my life was over. I was a different person being Johnny’s fiancé. There was no awkwardness. Well, when he talked about dates, I clammed up, but after a few steady breathing moments, I tried to come up with ideas. They were terrible ideas. So, our conversation moved on.
Johnny stood and watched my fingers in rapt attention. His blue eyes were fierce and protective. He walked over with his bass slung over his shoulder and started to nibble at my ear. The crowd went nuts. Pure madness. They were so responsive to our public relationship and the magazines were calling us American’s Rocking Love Couple. I was just so glad they hadn’t melded our names into Johnnia or Joonny. We made up those names one night and secretly waited for them to hit the news.
I giggled and dropped a few chords in with the public display of affection. He noticed and gave everyone an unapologetic shrug, as he walked back to his side of the stage. I looked back to see Dex in his ready stance and rolling his eyes dramatically.
When I turned my head back around to the crowd of ten thousand people, one lone and motionless male in the front of the pit, caught my attention. Long black locks, brown squared glasses, and one full tattooed sleeve mocked me, as my jaw clenched up. I slipped up on the transition, but I quickly recovered by turning my back on the crowd. I needed to slow my breathing. It had just gone up in rapid tempo. Too fast for this song. Too fast for my body.
I am pretty sure that is when I froze. For a few minutes, I heard, saw, felt, said, sang, and breathed nothing. How dare he show up at a LSP show and stand in the front so I could see him? He wants to throw me off? He wants to ruin me.
In that moment, I wanted to stomp off the stage and find the first airplane, train, bus, or bicycle out of this God forsaken place. Sure, I knew we were playing Brooklyn but never, ever did I think he would just show up like nothing happened. Like I didn’t make it perfectly fucking clear two years ago that he had to leave me alone.
My thought process about what to do was wrecking me. I was struggling with my memory to grasp our last words to one another when I realized I had totally fucked up the song. My back was to the crowd, my head bent over the guitar that I was hardly strumming and I should have been at the microphone singing the second verse to Live Free or Die. Okay, that is a song. Johnny and I wrote that song. Johnny was my fiancé. Yes, we wrote about my history in New Hampshire, and how I never understood the license plate motto. My head was officially back in the game as I listened to Dex do a slight Lars drum solo that was totally out of rhythm and foreign to this song in every way possible. I could only thank God that we hadn’t released it yet. It was still a work in process.
Johnny cut me a look that practically brought me to my knees. He was pissed off. I was pissed, too. I was right damn pissed. I mouthed “I’m so sorry” to him but I wasn’t exactly sure what I was sorry for. Sorry I fucked up the song? Sorry that Brennan Curtis made me falter both physically and mentally? Sorry that my heart was beating to a different tempo than it ever had with Johnny? I started to sing and closed my eyes to block out the crowd of people, or the crowd of one person.
I cut back a look at him and he was smiling again at me. Panic attack. That was a panic attack because of the heat and lights. He did not affect me anymore. He wasn’t drop dead gorgeous in that fucking white tank top and low riding jeans. I couldn’t breathe. By now, the song was winding down and I looked out into the crowd. He was still there with a disappointed expression on his face that made me want to crawl right to him.
Brennan mouthed, “I miss you.” I grabbed the microphone stand to keep myself from falling over. Then I grabbed it with my left hand and flung my ring finger into the air, screaming “live free or die”. It was the worst moment of irony I had ever experienced. He has just put me in a prison of want while I was living free on stage. So, to make it explicitly clear to him, I walked over to Johnny after the song ended and totally out of character, I whispered “Jules Lennox” and gave him an open mouthed kiss. He has been begging me to take his last name when we marry. But the fuck of it was I didn’t say that for Johnny or myself. I said it because, by proxy, I was telling Brennan to suck it.
Johnny pinched my ass as I walked back to my spot. And... he was still there. Through my little show, through the brush off, through the fuck off, he stayed. Content to be patient. He wanted more reaction and I had nothing. I was a robot throughout the rest of the show. I wouldn’t look his way. I really couldn’t. It felt gross and wrong. It was like looking at a bloody mess that couldn’t be unseen. But, Lord, I felt him. It was enough of a passionate exchange to sense the cloudy abyss on t
he horizon. The more I sang the bigger hole I dug. Depression was only one bed away.
It was the longest show I had ever experienced. It dragged on like the bus ride from Kansas to Colorado. I felt like I would never get there. On the outside, I played my part and luckily, after my total fuck up, Johnny, and Dex didn’t seem to notice my inner turmoil. What had Brennan been doing to me by showing up?
Right before I left the stage, I looked up and he was gone. I felt both lighter than air and truly disappointed. I hated not knowing. I was always in control. I always called the shots, but Brennan made me fucking crazy and he didn’t even know it. He looked so goddamn sexy with that leather band on his non tatted arm. I had bought that for him. It had the letter “J” on it. No beanie. No sweater. No holds barred. He was stripped of his extras, taunting me to see him as he was.
I walked into the backstage room to start signing and taking photos with fans. I waved Danielle over and told her that Brennan Curtis was on the no pass list from now on. Johnny came up right behind me as I finished my request.
“Why would Brennan come to a show?” he asked with concern.
“I saw him in the crowd tonight. That is why I fucked up that one song,” I answered him. It felt good to tell the truth. Johnny wouldn’t want lies and I didn’t either. I needed to be straightforward or I would get myself into a shit heap of trouble.
“He was?” he asked incredulously. He started to look around the room and when I put my hand on his arm, he startled at my touch. I quickly pulled it away.
“Look. It means nothing, Johnny. He can come to a show but I don’t want him anywhere near me.” I answered with equal suspicion.
His eyes softened as he took in my face. I was telling the truth. However, the reason behind the truth wasn’t the same truth he thought it was. I didn’t want to get caught up in Brennan’s stupid married web. I didn’t want him to make me feel. But he did.
My phone vibrated in my bra. I clicked it on and saw the text on the locked screen and nearly died.