“Fabulous. Now, can I get a sound bite to use to promote your interview?”
“Absolutely.” I grinned, excited about things for a change.
“OK. I’m recording now… This is Elle Ducaine, and you’re going to want to make sure you tune in for a special guest in March. For those of you loyal fans who follow their Facebook page, you’ll already know about ‘Dear Universe’. Dawson, why don’t you say hello to your fans?”
“Hey there, Loyals! The guys and I are so excited to be able to play the full version of ‘Dear Universe’ for you in a few weeks on The Spiel with Elle.”
“You heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, folks. And maybe we’ll get more of the story about the song. Make sure you tune in on March 14th.”
Silence filled the line for a few moments, then Elle’s voice came over the line again, “And we’re done. Thanks, Dawson. I’m really excited about having you and the band on the show. Let me know if there’s an issue with that date, and we’ll change it. The sound bite will probably start airing in a couple of days.”
“Thank you for reaching out.” And for the first time in a long time, I really meant it.
“Bye, now,” she drawled.
“Bye.”
Once I hung up, I shot off a quick text to the guys, telling them about the interview and playing on The Spiel and double checking that the date would work for them.
One thing the phone calls this morning had alerted me to: I didn’t want to be responsible for keeping track of our schedule. There was a lot to figure out with us going out on our own. We were friends with Mayhem MelodyMakers, another band, that struck out on their own a couple of years ago. I needed to go talk with them. We’d toured with them briefly when we first started out. They’d stayed in touch even as they skyrocketed to fame. Hopefully, they’d have lots of advice for us. I shot Bas a text to see if he was in their office for the day. His reply came back immediately that he’d be there all day and to stop by anytime.
After a quick shower, I dressed and climbed in my Range Rover Sport. As the key turned and the radio came to life, I was immediately transported back nearly ten years. And I’d hated the song for the same length of time. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hated a song like that one…
One weekend early during my junior year of high school, I set up my computer in the garage, so I could video chat with Izzy. I wanted her to hear our practice now that Brooks and I had added a drummer. Once we were set up, I initiated the call.
“Hey, Dawson,” she exclaimed when her face filled the screen. She was sitting on her back porch.
“Hey, flutterby,” I said as Brooks chimed in with a hello too. I panned the screen around, so she could see the drum set.
“You found a drummer?”
Her body bounced on the screen in excitement. It was a sight. A sight that sent excitement to body parts that shouldn’t be excited at the moment. I started thinking of my grandma, slugs, anything that would stop my blood from rushing south.
“Daw, did you hear me?” Izzy’s voice snapped me out of reciting the latest Cincinnati Reds’ statistics.
“Uh… what did you say?” I stood quickly with the computer and moved away from where Brooks and Jett were both laughing behind me over my obvious distraction and the source.
“I asked if you found a drummer?” She shook her head and giggled at my frazzled state.
“Yeah. That’s Jett.” I shot him a glare and turned the screen back towards him.
“Hey, Isabelle. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He waved at her enthusiastically.
“All good, I hope.” Her skin flushed with embarrassment.
“You know it,” Brooks teased.
“We’ve got a song for you,” I said, then we launched into Aerosmith’s “Pink”. Her face lit up as we paid tribute to her favorite color. After spending the summer drooling over her in her pink bikini through my computer screen, it was starting to be my favorite color too.
♪ Pink by Aerosmith
“That was awesome,” she shouted when we finished.
Before I could answer, a pair of arms landed on her shoulders. A shaggy head entered the screen and gave her a quick kiss. My heart stalled in my chest.
“Hey, babe,” a familiar voice said through the computer’s small speaker.
Who the hell was calling her babe?
Then the guy stooped down and looked into the computer screen with a huge grin on his face. “Hey, Dawson,” Jessie, the guy who lived across the street from Izzy, greeted me.
I unclenched my jaw, determined not to let anyone know how pissed I was to see his hands on her. I had no right to be pissed. She and I weren’t together. Hell, I’d been on dates the past year myself. Izzy and I might have kissed and stuff, but we’d never labeled ourselves as anything but best friends. Didn’t mean I didn’t fantasize of more.
“Hey, Jess,” I returned his greeting.
“You going to introduce me to your band, dude?” He squeezed his head into the camera’s screen right next to Izzy.
“Oh yeah, sorry. That’s Brooks, and on drums is Jett.” I indicated each one.
“Hey, guys. I’m Jessie. I knew Dawson when he lived here,” my former friend spoke to my bandmates like there was nothing wrong. Like he wasn’t touching the girl I dreamed about.
“So, you’re Izzy’s boyfriend?” Brooks, ever the subtle one, asked.
“I guess you could say that. We just started dating a couple weeks ago.” He settled in the chair next to her and slid the computer back so they both were visible.
“You didn’t mention anything when I talked to you yesterday or the day before or last week,” I said to Izzy with a frown.
Her shoulders hunched up around her ears. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about it. We talked about so much other stuff, it didn’t cross my mind. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you or anything,” she rambled on. Her fingers twirled a lock of hair, her nervous tell.
Behind me, Brooks started playing “Jessie’s Girl”. The words hit a little too close to home for me. I turned and glowered at him. He just smirked.
♪ Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield
“You guys should totally play that for Izzy,” Jessie said. “Since she’s my girl.” He dropped his arm around her shoulders and winked at her.
“Maybe later, after we’ve learned it,” I said. “I hate to cut our call short, Iz, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of, and it looks like you’ve got plans.”
Hurt flashed across her face for an instant before she said, “OK. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Yeah.” She pressed a kiss to her fingertips and pressed them to the screen.
“Bye, flutterby.” I repeated her gesture and closed the computer.
“That sucks, man,” Brooks muttered behind me.
I didn’t say anything else.
Over the next six months, my conversations with Izzy became shorter and shorter. Especially when Jessie was around. And he always seemed to be around. Our emails grew longer. And she still wrote me real letters and sent artwork, just like she had ever since I moved away. We didn’t really talk about Jessie or the girls I casually dated, just minor mentions in passing.
Izzy and Jessie were planning to go to the prom together. And it burned me up inside. A whole hell of a lot. I finally decided to ask the girl I’d been casually dating to go. But I dreaded taking her. I’d known her since eighth grade English. Had even taken her to my first formal dance. Just like the eighth-grade formal, mine and Izzy’s proms were the same night. And just like that night, I suspected prom night would be filled with unfulfilled wishes of being there with Izzy instead of Casey.
A couple weeks before prom, Izzy sent me an email in the middle of the school day, saying she needed me. I called her as soon as I got home. She was crying when she answered. In all the years I’d known her, I’d only seen her cry like this the day Brownie died and the day before I moved away. My mind immediately went to the possibility that something awful ha
d happened to her parents.
“Flutterby, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t hide my concern.
“I-I-I shouldn’t ‘ve called you y-yet,” her voice hitched as she tried to explain.
“Don’t be silly. You can call me anytime, about anything. Now, tell me what happened. Complete honesty. Are your parents OK? Are you OK?” I demanded. I felt so helpless watching her cry through a screen where I couldn’t wipe her tears away or hold her or kiss her until everything was better.
“Yeah. I just had the most awful day. Actually, I’ve been having a lot of bad days the past few weeks,” she admitted.
“I noticed you’ve been different. You’ve been quiet lately. Tell me why, flutterby.” I hadn’t wanted to push her to open up before. Izzy always came around to telling me things in her own timeframe.
“Jessie… I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.” She shook her head and drew in a shuddering breath. “Jessie’s been p-p-pressuring me.”
“Pressuring you?” I clenched my fist in my lap as I rapidly tried to come up with some sort of pressure situation that wouldn’t make me want to rip his head off.
“Yeah… to… um… have sex with him. I kept telling him no,” she whispered.
My heart lurched. If he hurt her, I was going to jail because I was going to kill him. “Izzy, did he force you?” I felt like I died in the handful of seconds it took for her to answer me.
“No. He didn’t. But he said it would happen prom night. We would finally do… it. He rented a motel room and everything. I told him I wasn’t ready. So, he dumped me in front of everyone today at lunch. I’ve never been so embarrassed before.” A fresh torrent of tears flowed down her cheeks.
“It’s OK. Izzy, I promise it’ll be OK. Jessie didn’t deserve you. I thought that from day one.” My heart rejoiced she was no longer tied to him. But it ached because she was hurting.
“Now I’ll be the laughing stock of the prom. I can’t go. I don’t have a date,” she sobbed.
“No one will laugh at you for standing up for yourself. That’s brave. Now, don’t you have some friends who are going as a group?” I recalled her telling me some of them didn’t have dates.
“Yeah,” she hiccupped.
“Then go with them. You can’t let him rob you of your prom. You’ve been so excited about going. You’ll go with your girlfriends, and you’ll have a blast without that jerk,” I didn’t try to hide the venom in my voice at the end of my little speech.
“You’re right. I’m not even really upset we aren’t together anymore. I’m upset he made me look like a fool.” She shrugged one shoulder. Izzy had always been a little introverted and in her own world, so being humiliated was especially devastating for her.
We lay in bed and talked until we both were exhausted and couldn’t keep our eyes open. It was like old times.
As soon as I woke the next day, I got to work. I talked to Mom over breakfast, then called Dad. They both agreed I could go visit Dad prom weekend. Mom booked my flight while I called Izzy’s parents to get them on board with the surprise. Then I called Casey and told her an emergency had come up, so I had to go out of town prom weekend…
The chime of my phone pulled me back to the present. Thankfully, the dreadful song was over, and my phone had saved me from getting lost in one of the happiest memories of my life.
Without looking at the screen, I answered, "Hello."
"Dawson?" came a familiar male voice. I pulled the phone from my ear and glanced at the Caller ID to confirm my suspicions.
"Mr. Clark?" Though I'd seen Izzy's dad's name on the screen, I still couldn't quite believe he was calling me. It had been years since we'd talked. He probably hated me. I hated myself sometimes.
"Long time no talk, Son. I hope you're doing well," he said.
"I am, sir. I hope you are as well." My best manners came out naturally. My fingers started tapping a beat on the steering wheel while I waited for him to reveal the reason for his call.
"Look, I'll cut right to the chase since I don't know when Sue might come outside and hear me. Your dad said he mentioned our anniversary party to you. And he said there was a possibility you might come.”
Was he calling to tell me I wasn’t welcome? "Yes, sir. I hope that's all right. I've missed you guys and would love to be there for your celebration." I held my breath, waiting for him to respond.
"Of course, it's all right. You're family. Still. So… I was wondering if you could… uh… do me a favor when you come," his voice sounded uncertain.
I swallowed nervously as I imagined what sort of favor this man, who used to be like a second father to me, might ask of me. "Sure."
"Sue has always been a fan of that old Beach Boys’ song. I can't remember the name of it. But she always swooned about it when that guy sang it to his pretend wife on that show you and Izzy used to watch in reruns, Filled up House or something," he tried to explain.
"You mean Full House?" I offered.
"Maybe. Anyway, she made me watch that dang episode over and over, where the long-haired, rocker guy sat at the piano and played it for his wife at their wedding."
"I know the song you're talking about." Izzy swooned over it too as I recalled.
"Do you think you can play it for Sue at the party? Like, dedicate it to her from me? There's a piano at the place where the party is," he rambled.
"I'd be honored to play it for you guys."
"I know it's a lot to ask, but can you change up the words? That last verse talks about leaving. I ain't going nowhere. So, I don't want you to sing that part."
I chuckled. "I can change it up. Make it special for you guys." It was the least I could do for the couple who’d been the best example of love for me my whole life. Maybe it could be the start of my grand romantic gesture.
"Thanks, Dawson. Make sure when you RVSP that you don't spill the beans about the secret," he reminded me.
"I won't. My lips are sealed," I assured him.
"It'll be good to see you again, Son. We've all missed you. Things just aren't the same without you around," his voice was quiet and filled with nostalgia.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I've missed you guys too. I can't wait to see you in a few weeks. Take care."
I ended the call, though I desperately wanted to pump him for information about Izzy. And Beckett.
Did her parents like him?
♪ It Only Hurts by Default
Chapter 17
Izzy
♪ When Love and Hate Collide by Def Leppard
After four songs, I was falling back in love with Dawson’s music. Maybe I’d never fallen out of love with it. Maybe I’d never…
Shaking my head, I halted my thoughts and focused on the music. I could feel every emotion Dawson experienced as he sung the lyrics. The connection between artist and creation couldn’t be denied. My appreciation of his gift had never wavered. But I wouldn’t allow myself to consider what other feelings might remain inside me.
“Izzy, even after all this time, thinking about you leaves me breathless. Being around you made my heart race. All the damn time. The reasons changed over the years. When we were kids, it raced because you were faster than me, and I was always chasing after you. When we were pre-teens, it ran wild because… well, because you were hot, and my hormones were going nuts. And then I experienced your kiss, your touch, your body, your heart, and I was a goner. My heart never slowed down again. Love is what always made it thunder in my chest. And once we took that pivotal step together, my heart’s rhythm changed. It became the beat you needed, creating the pulsing undertone you moved by. Flutterby, from the day I met you, you’ve been making me dizzy. Causing my head to spin. I didn’t even realize I was caught up in a cyclone, and had been for years, until prom night. That night was a game changer. And even when we weren’t together, it was always you who kept my heart beating, my soul hopeful, my mind dizzy. I wrote the bulk of this song when I returned to Ohio after prom night. Hope you like ‘Making Me D
izzy’.”
Prom wasn’t a time I let myself think of even once the past two years. What I’d prepared myself for being the worst night of my life turned into one of the best…
♪ You are the Reason by Calum Scott
After Jessie dumped me, I really considered calling prom a wash and staying home, eating ice cream and binging on sad movies. My friends—Dani, Brittany and Brooke—convinced me to go with them. So, I spent the day getting buffed, plucked and primped, courtesy of Shelly at the beauty salon my mom went to. As I stared at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of my door, I marveled at how different I looked.
After a few calming breaths, I stepped into my closet and grabbed my dress. With a clink, I pulled the hanger from the metal bar stuffed with clothes. I quickly hooked it over the top of the open door. Digging in the back corner of my closet, I pulled out my duffel bag. My friends and I were going to a party after the prom, and I wasn’t coming home until the next day. Three weeks ago, my parents had finally conceded to let me go to the after-party with Jessie. Mom had given me the whole “don’t get pressured into anything you don’t want to do and stay safe no matter what” speech. I read between the lines. Now that Jessie and I were over, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about that. With quick hands, I packed my bag with pajamas and a change of clothes, plus my toiletries.
Satisfied I had everything I’d need, I set the bag by the door. My nimble fingers unfastened each button and carefully shrugged off the shirt, so I wouldn’t mess up my hair. I slipped off my bra because the cut of the dress didn’t allow for one. I shimmied out of the rest of my clothes. High-cut panties would keep me from having noticeable lines. They were quite sexy and would hopefully give me a boost of confidence to enter the prom dateless and newly dumped.
The plastic covering rustled as I removed my dress from its protective cocoon. My breath caught as my eyes took in the beautiful gown again. I sighed in relief that I’d let myself be talked into attending the prom anyway.
Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series: Box Set 1 Page 33