by Ema Bancroft
"Yes, of course I did,"I argued. "Roland is the bum."
"So you're trying to tell me there's nothing weird going on,"Ethan said hesitantly. "Moxie and Tim don't talk because they're both nice, and you just wanted to clean the floor to help."
"That's what I'm saying. " Say no more, Elijah. You've screwed up enough. I was well aware that we were still a few yards from the janitor's closet and I was worried that at any moment Daisy could take her head off to see what was going on.
"So,"I said irritated. "Are we done here? I'd like to take off these wet clothes before I get a rash on my ass or something.
Ethan shrugged.
"Okay. Sure. Fine. Whatever. So Tim's not gay?"
"He's got an ex-girlfriend, remember?"
"Bi, then?"
"For God's sake, Ethan!"
"Okay, okay..." He raised his hands again. "Well, maybe I'd better go get him. I don't want him to miss the live shot."
Ethan moved to the outside door and I breathed a sigh of relief, rushing back to put my head in the closet.
"He's gone,"I whispered. "I'm going into the locker room. Wait a minute, then come out."
"Okay," Daisy hissed from behind the shelves.
I ran down the aisle, my wet shoes squeaking on the concrete. When I arrived at the locker room door, I took a deep breath to calm down before entering. Raul dried his hair while Roland tied his shoes. They nodded their heads as I walked toward where my clothes were hanging on a wall hook, grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. Through the doorway, I heard them greet Daisy as she washed my hair, her voice bringing the events of the closet in full color behind my closed eyes.
I like it to be big...
I almost felt her lips, her tongue, her teeth scraping my throat.
the way it moves when it swallows...?
The tingling of her fingertips along my stomach.
.... Oh God...?
The smell of your hair... the taste of your skin?
Elijah....
I struggled against the urge to wrap my hand around my now throbbing cock without wanting to be caught masturbating me like a pathetic teenage asshole. With a frowned brow, I would pull the tap out in the cold, holding my hands against the tile while the icy water bathed me, effectively dealing with the problem at hand.
When I no longer felt my fingertips, I turned off the tap and shuddered when I washed quickly with a towel. I got dressed and ran my fingers through my hair, without bothering to try to tame the mad mess. By the time I left the bathroom, I was in control of myself and I managed not to grab Daisy and drag her back into the shower with me.
Believe me. It was tempting.
Instead, she walked beside me, not looking me in the eye as she held her towel and clothes away from her wet shirt and headed for the shower.
I tried not to think about her, naked, with a door between us.
I tried to. But I failed.
"Dude, control yourself,"Roland hissed. I was so lost that I didn't even realize I had crossed the room. With a quick look at Raul, who was still drying his hair, he added:"You look like a puppy in love... and stop staring at the bathroom door!"?
I bowed to tie my shoe, shaking my head in shame. "Shit. Sorry, I muttered.
"Don't apologize to me,"he said quietly. "It's your ass on the line here. " Raul closed the hair dryer and Roland crossed the room again to grab his jacket. "Are you ready? " asked Raul.
"Yes,"he replied, checking his hair one last time.
I heard the shower closed, and with a quick glance at me, Roland walked through the bathroom door and slammed his fist.
"Tim! Move it! " he shouted. "The interview is in ten!"
"All right,"Daisy knocked through the door. "I'll be out in a minute."
The locker room door opened and Ethan shoved his head in. "I can't find Mini B anywhere."
"Right here,"Daisy said, rubbing a towel on her head as she came out of the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair quickly.
"Well, come on," Ethan said impatiently. "They're waiting for us."
We went to the live interview in Lunchtime L. A. , and feeling Roland's eyes on me, I made a point of not looking at Daisy's ass once.
I thought I should get points for that.
Daisy
I did the interview well, even though my mind kept coming back into the janitor's closet. It wasn't just being with Elijah, though those memories definitely took center stage for the most part.
No, it was the panic I felt when Ethan came down the hall.
We were so close to getting caught. And it really hit home the kind of trouble it could cause - not just for me, but for Elijah.
I couldn't even look him in the locker room. He was aware of the others around us, and feared he didn't want to rat us out. Did you look at him too much? Isn't that enough?
Could you say that being around him made me nervous and horny?
Could you see that I loved him?
Could I?
I was very nervous. And I couldn't even let that happen.
When I came up with this plan, I knew it would be complicated, but I had no idea how complicated it was. I hadn't considered the guilt I would feel in lying to the other kids - my friends. Not to mention the constant stress of having to hide who I really was.
Besides all that, there was Elijah. And there was this crazy, sex-hungry person I'd become.
I had never been particularly sexually aggressive, but somehow that had changed. I didn't know if it was for hiding and sneaking out... or because I had somehow absorbed some of the testosterone that constantly surrounded me...
Maybe it was only because it was Elijah. A chemical reaction, like the vinegar and sodium bicarbonate I used to erupt a volcano in my third grade science fair... an explosive combination that ignited my inner whore...
I called her Julie.
And she was a problem.
Fortunately, they kept it at bay for the rest of the day. After the interview, the afternoon was a bit blurry in terms of the sound tests, last-minute rehearsals and preparation for the unplugged show. The afternoon was hot, but not too warm, and when we stood on the roof of the observatory, I could not help but shout a little cry of thanks in the view. The city lay before us like a blanket - stretching as far as the eye could see, and surprisingly unblocked by the smog. I imagine that at night it would be even more impressive, the buildings illuminated and the stars shining on them.
We headed to the other side as we did, however, looking at the lawn park where taxpayers were already lying on blankets and folding chairs. Although the show would be unplugged, we were using sound equipment. The guitars of Raul and Elias were connected to the system, as well as our microphones. All this would be shown on a couple of huge video monitors so that those on the ground could see us up close.
But there would be no background music, no dancing, no fireworks, no fog machines. Just us sitting on the stools on a platform?
Like the Beatles on the roof of Apple Studio. Okay, maybe not exactly like that. The Beatles are the Beatles.
But you come up with the idea.
Despite J. J. Jones's resistance to the idea, 4-Square really worked well, even with the format unplugged. They didn't play any instruments, so they had to use backup music, but people seemed to enjoy the performance, and when we joined them for a song, the audience went crazy.
Our set was amazing. I tried to avoid looking at Elias, but the sound of his voice - pure and clear - combined with his guitar was incredible. Looking down at the crowd standing on the floor, I could see that he wasn't the only one who thought so.
Several hundred girls fell in love with E. C. Lynch that afternoon. Not that I can blame them.
When he sang the main song of the Confessions of the Dormitory, he brought back memories of him singing in his bed as I fell asleep in his arms. I was glad I didn't sing a lot in that song, because I felt the tears covering my throat and had to fight to keep control of my emotions. B
lowing up in tears definitely wouldn't be the best thing for me, so I tried to think of other things.
I saw Twicher in the crowd and out of impulse I pulled his tongue out. He saw it, but before he could lift the camera to his eye, I returned his tongue and smiled widely. He shrugged.
Victoria.
Sometimes it was the little things.
We ended the show with Geek Lover and a standing ovation. The VIPs who had bought seats on the roof also had a meeting and we greeted each other, so we spent another hour chatting with them and signing autographs. When we were ready to leave, the sun was setting and the lights of L. A. shone on the horizon.
"Beautiful, isn't it? " I jumped slightly, surprised to find Elijah standing beside me. Although no one was nearby, there were still several dozen people on the roof, breaking up the team and chatting with Cecil and the other kids.
"It is,"I muttered, making sure I don't lean on him.
"Daisy,"he whispered, his eyes focused on sight as he reached into his pockets,"we have to be careful. Today on filming... that was close... too close"?
"I know."
"Maybe..."Elijah hesitated?"
"Maybe what?"
He exhaled heavily. "Maybe we should slow down a little bit... we're tempting fate lately."?
My heart sank. I knew he was right, but hearing him say it out loud hurts anyway. I tried not to let my feelings manifest, shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, maybe."
I felt his eyes on me, but I didn't look at him.
"It's not what I want,"he said quietly. I looked up to find him looking at me, his eyes soft. "I'm just worried... about you"?
I smiled, wishing I could touch him. "I'm worried about you too."
He swallowed it, running a hand through his hair. "Then, all right. We'll slow down... be more careful.
I nodded, unable to speak because of the knot in my throat.
So Ethan called us, and we turned around to leave the observatory without any more words.
And all that night, while I was alone in my bed, I tried to convince myself that we had done the right thing.
0
After the shooting on Wednesday, we had another quick local interview, then I went out to lunch with Moxie. I didn't tell the guys I was meeting. Elijah knew, but I told the rest of them that I was going to meet an old friend of the family. Elijah had told me about Ethan's questions about Moxie, and I thought it would be better if no one knew we were seeing each other again.
I couldn't explain the connection I had with Moxie. I mean, at first glance, what did we really have in common? Still, I felt comfortable with her and was actually looking forward to a break from testosterone.
Well, sort of. I guess the testosterone was still there under all the spandex and Maybelline.
I needed some girl time. Even if the girl wasn't a girl at all.
After all, neither do I.
I met her at a small cafe on Hollywood Boulevard that evoked thoughts of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. The black vinyl stools and the speckled worktop of Formica looked almost new, but they definitely listened again at that time.
Moxie waved from a booth in the back, and I smiled, walking towards her.
Once again I was surprised by Moxie's ability to transform. Her shiny red hair was trapped in an elegant ponytail, emphasizing her clear cheekbones and large hazel eyes, strongly accentuated. She wore a pair of skin-fitting jeans in high heels in black boots, and a loose white shirt tied over a black bustier. I had a feeling that, to Moxie, this was a casual look. Self-consciously, I straightened out my own glamorous attire: a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee and a worn-out Rolling Stones shirt from the late 1990s.
I could try to explain my suit by the fact that I was playing boy, but the truth is I always dressed like that.
We talked about trivial things until the food arrived. It was then that it became apparent that Moxie was a man, when the waitress placed a huge double cheeseburger in front of her, a plate of fries mixed with onion rings, a side of tender chicken and a chocolate shake. My eyes widened in the food covering the table.
Moxie winked. "I may look like a diva,"she said,"but luckily for me I have the metabolism of a 22-year-old boy. She took a fries and soaked it in rancher dressing. "I hate diets,"she added.
"That'll catch up with you eventually,"I warned him, taking a bite of my chicken sandwich.
She shrugged. "¿Y? I'm going from Cher and Celine to Noelle and Chaka Khan. I'll adjust. " Moxie performed at a drag show in West Hollywood on the weekends.
I smiled, and Moxie stared at me for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. She swallowed and took a sip of her shake before she spoke.
"How long do you think you can keep this up?"
My stomach flipped surprisingly, but I did what I could to pretend it was worthless. "Follow what?"
Moxie sighed heavily. "Look, sweetie. I like you. I like you. I really do. I really do. But you're just looking for trouble here."
My mouth felt like sandpaper, so I avoided her eyes, drowning out some of my Coca-Cola. "What do you mean?"
I was clinging to straws. I knew what she meant.
Moxie knew that. Somehow, she knew it.
She looked at me with pity. "What's your name, honey? " she asked quietly.
My eyes centered on the table with scars. Looking for a finger, I searched Formica for a pattern for a moment. Finally, I took a deep breath and looked up.
"Daisy,"I whispered.
Moxie smiled. "Nice to meet you, Daisy."
It was so strange that anyone other than Elijah or Mabel would call me that.
"How did you know? " I asked. "Is it that obvious? " I felt a wave of panic when I thought that.
"Not for most people,"Moxie replied. "I didn't even know for sure until I touched your face.
"Never let anyone do that,"she advised. "Your skin is too soft. No stubble stubble. Dead betraying."
I rubbed my chin absently, suddenly relieved myself that the make-up artists I had worked with always used sponges instead of fingers. Why didn't I think of that? I leaned my elbows on the table, letting out a groan as I covered my face with my hands.
"Relax,"said Moxie laughing. "I have a little more perception of this sort of thing than your average Kristin. " I looked between my fingers and she winked.
"The packer is a nice touch,"she added, and I realized that lately I wasn't the only one checking my crotch. "Where did you get it?"
"Elijah gave it to me,"I answered without thinking.
Moxie's eyes narrowed. "Seriously,"she said, taking the word out. "I thought they were joking about you and E. C."
"Shit,"I muttered, covering my face again.
"Don't worry, honey. Your secret is safe with me,"Moxie assured me. "God knows I'm not the one to judge."
"Really?"
She shrugged her shoulders, taking another burger. "You know you're playing with fire, right?"
Moxie's words brought back memories of the janitor's closet, and I felt the warmth of my cheeks as an answer trapped in my throat.
"My God,"Moxie breathed.
"What?"
She leaned over the table, her eyes tried. "You're in love with him."
I opened my mouth to deny it, but I couldn't.
"How do you do that? " Instead I grumbled, irritation mixed with amazement coloring my voice.
Moxie laughed.
"It's a gift. Maybe it comes from spending so much time hiding the truth. It's easier for me to see in others. " Her face was sober.
"But, honey, how are you gonna make this work?"
I sighed, sipping a sip of my Coke. "I have no idea. It may not be a problem.
"What do you mean?"
"Elijah and I talked,"I shrugged. "We decided it would be good... smart... to back out a little."
"Uh huh. " Moxie raised an eyebrow. "And how do you feel about that?"
"I don't know exactly,"I admitted. I mean, I get it. We have to be careful, and being involved with Elijah is probably a bi
g mistake, but..."My words stayed in the air while I was playing with my fries.
"But..."Moxie pushed me?"
"It doesn't feel like a mistake,"I whispered, and finally gave in to the tears that had punctured my eyes since Elijah and I talked after the concert.
"Oh, honey,"said Moxie sympathetically, stretching across the table to squeeze my hand. "You're really in a bind, aren't you?"
I laughed without a sense of humor at the underestimation, tears falling freely, now that I had finally let them go. "I don't know what to do."
"What do you want to do?"
I sniffed, blowing my nose on my paper napkin and looking at Moxie through bleeding eyes. "I want to be with Elijah."
She just nodded her head.
"But I want to sing too,"I added, drying my eyes. "I love being in the group. I love boys, all boys. I love acting, videotaping and even interviewing.
"You want it all,"said Moxie.
"Yes,"I replied with a sigh. "I want it all. Is it bad?"
Moxie waved a hand. "Honey, the women have been wanting everything since the beginning of time."
"Is it possible? " I asked.
Moxie thoughtfully chewed an onion ring before answering. "Not at the same time."
"Huh?"
"Something I read once - maybe in a sticker or a Redbook article,"Moxie told me, pouring some ketchup on her chicken sandwiches. "Women can have it all... but not all at the same time."
"You're living half your life as a woman, half as a man,"Moxie continued. "Actually, more than half as a man. The feminine part of you is being pushed aside, and she's counter-attacking.
"Julie,"I muttered.
"What?"
"Never mind."
Moxie shrugged. "You need to find a way out for that side of you, or it's gonna drive you crazy,"she said. "So I don't think that getting away from Elijah is necessarily best for either of us. If you don't find a way to let yourself be a girl sometimes, you're going to explode. She pointed to my napkin wet with tears as evidence.
"But how?"
"Well, for starters. I think you need to look for opportunities to be with Elijah... but be careful,"she added. " Very careful"?
"What if we get caught?"
"Don't do it."
I laughed. "It's easy for you to say."