by Josephs, Mia
“So, um… You really want me to play this? Here? Alone?” he asked, a tinge of nerves in his voice.
“Yep.” She sat on a stool Bridget had placed for her and rested her guitar on her lap, waiting.
It was one thing to listen to Griffin as he played on the stage in the dark while sitting down, but another to see him center stage with a guitar in hand about to play one of her all-time favorite songs.
He moved through the opening riff flawlessly, and his voice was solid and strong through the first verse. Dammit that was hot.
“…know that things between us…ain’t right…” Griffin’s hand slipped and he paused.
Lita watched him knowing something was happening in his head that she wasn’t going to be privy to.
Letting out a slow breath Griffin stared at his boots. “Sometimes life changes in small bits, and sometimes obvious things slam into you, you know?”
Yes. She did know. Lita nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her. She didn’t trust her voice.
“You know what?” he said. “I think you need to not be afraid to make the song your own. The lyrics are sexy, but the song is about having power but feeling powerless. I bet if you let yourself play it your way, and keep that in mind, you’ll nail it.”
She wanted to ask Griffin if he was okay after so abruptly stopping the song, but it seemed that every time she learned more about him, she liked him more, and she couldn’t afford that. “Yeah. Okay.”
He let out a nervous chuckle. “Now I get to sit and take a breather because it is weird standing up there in the center of the stage.”
“But it looks good on you.” Her eyes found his, and her heart flipped over, and her words placed so many things between them. In that second, the song took on a new meaning. You’re the one that I can’t have.
She wanted him. Bad. It wasn’t based on a lot more than his hotness and the few bits of sweetness she’d seen from him, but the pulsing ‘want’ was still there.
Lita started at the beginning of the song again. And she followed every word of Griffin’s advice. She felt that whole damn song. The power. The powerlessness. The way she wished for the guy sitting near her, and she made it her own.
Bridget let out a “woot!” the second Lita finished, out of breath from the rush of knowing the song had come together.
“You clearly don’t need my help.” Griffin stood, wiping his forehead. “That was…”
His brown eyes met hers, and she held her breath, waiting for anything else from him. She’d felt every note and every word and she wanted to share that high with someone.
“That was really good,” he finished. “I should go.”
Her breath caught as he started off stage, and around the curtain to where the guitars were stored. Lita followed before thinking. He couldn't leave. Not yet. They’d barely talked.
“Thanks for your help,” she said lamely.
Griffin paused next to the cases, and slid her spare inside, locking the case. He stood there, his hands resting over the handle, not speaking.
Lita moved her guitar so it rested more fully on her back. She took a step closer and Griffin didn’t move away. Her heart pounded harder. She took another step. When had being around a guy been so hard? Usually she was pushing advances away, and then he came and had been nicer and done more than anyone else. There was no way she’d misread his actions, had she? She took another step. Close enough that she could feel his warmth.
So close that the delicious Griffin-smell helped her relax. “I’m sorry for whatever is bothering you.”
His head tilted and he stared at her for a moment.
Everything in his eyes matched what she felt. Interest. Like. Curiosity. Frustration.
Lita placed her hands on his chest and he sucked in a breath, but didn’t move away. Their eyes met again and his held conflict.
“Lita, I—”
She stood on her tiptoes, wrapped an arm around his neck and brought him to her level. Just as she leaned in to press her lips to his, Griffin leaned away. Just out of reach.
Humiliation hit her in a hot wave, and her arms dropped. Lita stared at her feet. “I think you should go. I should go.”
Griffin reached toward her, but stopped before they touched. “I need to explain. I—”
Her throat swelled. “I said I think you should go.”
“I’ve known Stacy my whole life.” His voice sounded so hurt and broken, but the last thing she needed was to be involved in some kind of mess. “It’s not that I’m not feeling something. It’s that I can’t—”
“Griffin.” She tightened her jaw and narrowed her eyes before looking at him again, but she struggled to find words. “It was stupid… I know you’re in love with… I know you love your girlfriend. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Lita?” Apelu called.
“Coming!” She slipped the guitar off her back and handed it to Griffin.
She put on her best professional voice. The one she hoped wouldn’t betray how completely humiliated she felt. “Thank you, Griffin. See you at the show.”
Griffin rested his hand on her arm, gently wrapping his fingers around her bicep, and leaned in enough that she could have kissed him again with the slightest turn of her head. “I can’t throw almost six years with someone away, even though almost everything in me is screaming for me to.”
Lita’s heart tore further. He was too good of a guy to give in. Of course. She blinked away tears as his hand fell from her arm and she walked back onstage where she’d have to put on a brave face for Apelu and Bridget.
Her chest ached, and she was completely confused by her interchange with Griffin. The humiliation still cut deep. Maybe she was awful, knowing he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was a tease for being so nice. Either way, she shrunk in misery over the whole situation.
PART III
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
The Clash (1982)
Thirteen
It was stupid that Griffin felt like hell over what had happened between them. Lita knew he was attached. Knew it. Did she forget? Not care? Was it maybe that he hadn’t really talked about Stacy much except to say that she existed? Was this Lita’s fault? His own?
This sucked. Hard.
He knew he’d done the right thing, so why did he feel so turned inside out? Only a few hours left until show time. He needed to go tune guitars, talk to Stacy, and let the world right itself.
It was maybe a dumb gesture, but before giving it much thought, Griffin wrote Lita a quick note and set it in her dressing room.
I’ll be on the stage after like always. No weirdness. Just friends.
It was probably juvenile and stupid. She’d almost for sure wad the note up and throw it away. But it made him feel a little better after walking away that afternoon.
He and Ryker set up the guitars like always, and tuned the back-ups like always. There was no doubt that it was still cool to work the show, but that’s what it felt like more and more. A show. All of this stuff happened backstage, for the few people onstage to look good. To sound good.
“You’re way too quiet,” Ryker said.
“Gonna call Stacy.” That would help his head get set on straight.
“Now you’re as bad as she is,” Ryker teased.
Griffin ignored his brother and wandered into the massive auditorium. He sat near the back corner, dialing Stacy.
“Hey!” she answered. “We did just talk. Everything okay?”
Griffin was about to lie. Maybe he shouldn’t have called. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Okay.”
“Everything going good back home?” he asked. “Even Mom’s given up calling me for small things because I only answer half the time.”
“She’s doing great, actually.”
Griffin let himself relax in the chair. “Good. And you?”
“I’m…” Stacy let out a small sigh. “I miss you, of course. But this is good. I feel… I changed my own tire yesterday.”
&nbs
p; He laughed at the thought of it even. Stacy didn’t do anything messy. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The excitement in her voice bubbled over the phone. “Yeah. I had a flat after work, and I remembered watching you, and then I just sort of figured it out. By myself.”
He was proud of her for toughing it out instead of letting something so small defeat her, like she sometimes did. “Awesome, babe.”
“Okay.” She paused. “I gotta run to work, Griff. Text me tonight before the show so I can say goodnight, okay?”
“You don’t want me to call after?”
“Don’t think I don’t love it...because I do, but I need a full night’s sleep.”
He sat back in relief because he hoped to have a chance to talk with Lita. In that second he began to realize how torn he was—but he knew where he’d end up, and he had to stay focused on that. “Until tonight then.”
“Okay.”
And she ended the call.
Ryker walked up the empty aisle and sat next to Griffin. “How’s everything back home?”
“Stacy changed a tire,” he said with a smile.
“I swear.” Ryker shook his head. “You talk about her like she’s your little sister, not your girl.”
Griffin flipped his brother off and started toward the exit. “I’m gonna power nap.”
“Yeah.” Ryker patted his back. “You do that. And then you pretend that Lita isn’t being weird around you, and continue to pretend that I don’t care and that I won’t figure it out.”
Griffin flipped his brother off again, this time over his shoulder as he walked away. Thank God he hadn’t kissed her back, or he’d have something to be worried about.
Fourteen
Lita stopped in the darkness, when she saw Griffin sitting on the stage, just like he said he would in the note. Apelu waited in the dark backstage, and Bridget was gone. Dave never stayed after the show, and the band had their own stuff going on. Lita and Griffin weren’t alone, but since neither knew the very few people still at the theater, it didn’t much matter. What mattered was that she’d stuffed Griffin’s simple note in her leather pants, and Griffin plinked on one of the guitars like always.
She wrung her hands and finally stepped out from behind the curtain and toward where Griffin sat quietly playing. There was something about him she couldn’t give up, even though she’d have walked away from anyone else after something so wholly humiliating.
“Oh, good,” he said smiling. “Sit down so we can sit back to back, and I’ll have something to lean against.”
Lita smiled back. He was giving her an out. “So, really, you just needed a chair, is that right?”
Griffin shrugged and turned away from her patting the floor behind him.
“You really should have found someone bigger,” Lita teased as she sat.
“Yeah, well, I’ll take what I can get.”
She leaned her back against the warmth of him but couldn’t breathe—her nerves danced like elephants until he started to play again. “No phone?”
“My guess is the late night calls are going to halt.”
“Oh?” Why did her heart feel lighter?
“I think she’s finally…settling in.”
Lita really couldn’t blame the girl for wanting to talk every night. If Griffin were her boyfriend, she’d want to talk to him too.
“I should have asked you to get a guitar. We could have messed around together,” he commented.
She rubbed her fingertips together. “My fingers are sore.”
“Really?” The pitch of his voice raised in surprise.
“Yeah. It’s like they were tough as nails for a while, but after every show, I swear they hurt a little more.” She stared at the softening calluses on her hands.
Griffin held his hand out to the side, and she realized he wanted to see hers. She stretched out her arm, palm up and his warm fingers ran over hers sending waves through her.
This had not been a smart idea.
“You’re sending mixed signals,” she whispered as she pulled her hand back.
“I know.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“So…” She pushed down the frustration and the ache that seemed to be part of being around this guy. “Your girl must be pretty special.”
He missed a few notes, and then stopped playing, resting his arms on the body of the guitar.
“You really want me to talk about Stacy?” he asked.
No. Of course she didn’t, but she was horribly curious about the girl that had such a hold on him. And with their backs together the deep conversation felt easier somehow. “Yeah.”
After a short pause, the same slow melody came from the guitar he held. She relaxed into the music and into the feel of him.
“We grew up in the same trailer park.” His fingers danced up the fret board.
“Fancy,” she teased.
“Not even a little.” He readjusted, and she leaned more fully against him. Warmth to warmth… She blinked and the dream she’d had about him spread goose bumps across her skin.
“I’ve known Stacy for forever.” He continued to play scales and variations of scales as he spoke. As if them leaning together wasn’t making his heart race or his palms sweat like it was doing to her. “You know how when you’re in middle school and you date, it’s not really real, right?” he asked.
“I remember.” Lita closed her eyes and thought back to how simple it all was. Now, simple things like meeting a friend after a show zapped her brain with possible repercussions to her image, her career.
“Stacy dated a lot of guys in middle school. Ended up with a not so stellar reputation. We started high school, and she began to actually live up to the reputation she hadn’t earned.”
“She sounds just amazing,” Lita slipped before clamping her mouth shut. “Bitch moment. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Griffin shifted behind her. “I’d always liked her. Always. One day after school, this guy was grabbing at her. Like for real grabbed her boobs and then her ass, and just reached between her legs, and I lost it.”
“Rescued the damsel in distress, huh?” Lita asked.
“It’s my downfall,” he said in a teasing voice. “So, I got the crap beat out of me.”
Lita snorted and leaned her head back until it rested on Griffin’s shoulder. “I was not expecting that.”
“Yeah, well. I was tall then, but gangly and damn awkward. She’s a year older. The guy was a couple years older than her.
“She took the rest of the year off. I think her parents were furious, but with them both working, they had no idea how to protect her.”
She could hear the dedication in his voice. In the way he told her story, which was his story too. After a moment, he began to once again pluck the strings of the guitar.
“That sounds horrible.” Lita thought back to how she’d floated through middle and high school. She’d loved both, all of it. Well, until the beginning of junior year when she won Battle of the Bands and hit the road when her song hit the top of what felt like a million charts.
“Just before sophomore year, Stacy was at my house, and after getting my ass kicked, I’d done nothing but work out. All spring. All summer. Stacy noticed.”
“And you rescued her again.”
Griffin snorted. “I don’t think ‘rescue’ is the right word.”
“Whatever.” She wanted him to get back into the story.
“Anyway, she was at my house and suddenly she leaned over and kissed me. And I’d kissed girls before. Made it to second base with Lily Pallone, but this was different. I’d liked Stacy for a while, and suddenly she liked me back.” His fingers kept moving on the strings, like a backdrop to their conversation.
“And you’re still with her?”
“Yep. And…it’s not just my connection with her, you know? I know her life, her situation. Her and my mom are like, best friends. I think… I think the connection between two people reaches more than the two people.” His words sounded m
ore matter of fact than excited or in love. She clung to that in a way she shouldn’t have.
Lita closed her eyes, her chest aching at a loss she shouldn’t have felt. At a loss she really couldn’t even define. She had nothing to contribute because she’d never felt that way about anyone. She knew she could be hard to take, but she also couldn’t imagine changing, certainly not to be with someone who wouldn’t want her in the end anyway.
“Why did you come out here tonight?” Lita asked.
Griffin’s melody didn’t slow or falter. “Because you’re interesting. I like you.”
“Because I’m Lita James?” she asked slowly, holding her breath.
“Your name doesn’t really matter.” She felt him shrug. “I’m not out here because of what you are, but I’ll admit that sometimes you look like the rock star and sometimes you look like Lita, a cool girl who might be my friend. Is that what you were looking for?”
Exactly.
“My mom died.” She clutched her arms around her middle. “I mean… You probably knew that.”
“I did,” he said quietly. “Her music was fantastic and not as appreciated as it should have been.”
“I look just like her. Just. I play music because of her.” She’d told so few people about her mom, but she was desperate for someone to have pieces of her that felt real. “When I listen to recordings of her singing, I sound so much like her. I think it kills my dad a little. Like… He’s looked at me different since Mom died, or not really looked at me at all.” Mostly not at all. Being around her dad was rough because she desperately wanted him to see her for her and not the carbon copy of her mom that she sometimes felt like. He’d rather have the original.
“You asked me about parties...” Was she going to do this? “That I don’t go out, or that everyone just knows this about me.”
“Yeah?” Griffin stiffened behind her, but the music didn’t falter.
“Mom wasn’t a partier, really much at all. She gave up music to spend more time with my dad and me when I was about four. When some friends came through town on tour, she went to see them. Of course…” Lita coughed as her throat started to dry up.