by Elle Bennett
I tossed the rag down on the counter and ran out to the floor. The Ten Tenant Torture Table parents were waving at me, but I ignored them. Fuck getting a tip. Andrew was here. Andrew was here.
My eyes widened as I saw him, his caramel brown acoustic guitar in his hands resting against his worn and faded black t-shirt, pressing against his dark jeans. I leaned against the counter and I don’t think I blinked once. If I blinked, there was a chance that this was just my imagination. He could disappear. I wanted to hear what he had to say before that happened.
“I wrote this song for a girl that I met a few weeks ago. I didn’t get her name, so until I know it, this song is untitled. It’s still kind of rough, so bear with me.”
My hand flew up to my necklace and I gripped it tight. I wonder if he noticed that I was here. I wondered if the song could be for me. It was possible. We did meet a few weeks ago. And I didn’t tell him my name.
My heart practically leapt out of my chest at the thought of it. I was sure he met plenty of girls on a daily basis. I was sure he even slept with a few before getting their names. But maybe, just maybe…
He began to strum his guitar. The notes blended together in a perfect melody that reminded me of the exact moment we had, standing outside the mall, the way he looked at me when he brushed my hair behind my ear. It was perfect. Beautiful. Then he began to sing, and I melted against the counter.
“The girl with a flower wrapped around her neck, her hair as bright as a sunset, her blue eyes I can’t forget. Without a word spoken, I knew she’d leave me heartbroken. This won’t be the end of our story, no, I won’t let it be the end. I don’t know her name, but I want to know her heart. When we meet again someplace, I hope she remembers my face. She won’t run off, a blur of red, a girl who won’t leave my head. Please sit and talk with me, we can sing our favorite songs, hum a melody or three. I want to laugh with her, love her, be with her. Until we give it a try, I’ll dream of her lips on mine. I didn’t catch her name, but I want to catch her heart. Don’t let this be the end of our story, let it be the start.”
My heart pounded at a thousand beats per minute. It probably wasn’t healthy for someone who wasn’t part hummingbird, but whatever. I didn’t care. Not when Andrew was singing about me. I was really, very sure it was about me.
I let out a deep breath and let my necklace go from my grip, falling against my sternum. The flower necklace I always wore. It was the first thing I bought with my very first paycheck, when I moved out on my own and wanted to prove that I could make it without my dad’s help, without my mom’s existence. The necklace that meant the world to me was now a part of a Peristerophobia song, I was so sure of it.
The entire room seemed to clear out as he sang. It was just me, Andrew, and his untitled song.
As he finished singing, I felt myself come down from my cloud of twitterpation and back to the real world. One of the kids from the Ten Tenant Torture Table threw a roll at me to try and get my attention. I walked towards the stage instead.
Andrew set his guitar down in its case and when he looked up, his eyes met mine.
“Oh my God. It’s you,” he said.
I smiled at him and we walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the room in a hug.
“You’re here. I found you. I can’t believe you’re here,” he said into my hair, his breath gently tickling my ear. Then he let me go as he realized one more thing. “And… You’re sticky.”
“Yeah, one of Satan’s spawn threw a soda at me earlier. I tried to clean it off, but there’s only so much a girl can do without a washing machine and a shower.”
“That sucks. I hope they get pushed into some mud or something as retaliation.”
I laughed.
“Please be the one to do it to them. I’ll like you even more.”
“Oh, so you like me?” he said, a sly smile on his lips.
It took me a moment to realize that the expression on his face wasn’t just flirtatious, but nervous. Andrew Washington could play a show for a hundred plus people with nothing but confidence, but here, in front me me, he was nervous? Holy shit.
I made him nervous.
I nodded at him.
“I’m really glad I played that song here, then. I hadn’t played here since high school, but I figured, what the hell, I might as well test out the song before I play it for the guys, and… You’re here. I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
I smiled and looked back at the family glaring at me from the corner.
“I’ve got to get back to work for a bit, but do you want to hang out at the counter until I close up? We’re only open for another hour.”
He smiled and gave me a nod. He walked over to the counter, setting his guitar down and sitting next to it. He flagged down Calvin and ordered a drink. I walked back to the Ten Tenant Torture Table with a giant smile on my face. They were definitely not going to give me a tip. And I didn’t care.
When we closed up shop for the night, I saw Andrew sitting at the counter, jotting something down on a napkin. I wondered if he was scribbling down some lyrics. Maybe some more about me.
As I wiped down the same spot over and over again, absent minded and smiling, Calvin leaned over the till he was counting down and whispered, “So, that song was about you?”
I nodded, a smile still plastered on my face. I continued to wipe the same spot clean.
“And he’s that guy from that band you’re obsessed with?”
I nodded again. I was sure my eyes had become giant hearts.
Calvin swiped the rag from my hands and began to wipe up all the spots I’d missed while daydreaming about what would happen when I left for the night.
“Go home, April. You’re useless right now, and I can take care of shit. I’ll clock you out when I leave.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, jumping up before he could answer. “Thanks!”
I walked over to Andrew and placed my hand on his shoulder. He turned around and gave me a smile that matched the one on my face.
“April,” he said, practically making my heart jump out of my chest. I loved the way he said my name, the way it rolled off his tongue. It was almost like he would rather sing it than say it.
“You ready to go?” I asked.
He nodded and stood up, folding the napkin into a small square that he shoved into his pocket. He grabbed his guitar case with one hand and took my hand with his other. We walked out of Cranberry and down the street, passing by closed shops and people heading home for the night. When we reached Strung Out, my favorite independent record shop, we both stopped out of habit and looked through the window. The employees were counting the tills, vacuuming, and dancing around to the music that they had blasting in the store.
We sat down at a bench next to the window of the shop. Andrew said, “I love this place.”
“Me too,” I replied. “I come here way too often. I just stopped in the other day to browse and ended up spending all of my tip money from a ten hour shift. Honestly, I don’t regret it, but I’ll be living off of ramen noodles for a while.”
“What was the last thing you bought here?” he asked.
“Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers on vinyl.”
He draped his arm across my shoulders. I felt a rush of warmth go through my body, and I had a feeling that it wasn’t the summer air causing it. I stared ahead, rather than looking at him, because I knew my face was likely bright red once again.
“I think the last thing I picked up was an old Jimmy Eat World CD I found for really cheap,” he said.
“I love them,” I said with a smile. “The last CD I bought was Kendrick Lamar. Or Alkaline Trio. One of the two.”
He laughed.
“I can see how you’d mix those two up,” he said. “You know… you’re not what I expected. But I really like you so far.”
“Oh, ‘so far?’ Should I be cautious, or…”
“Nah. I’m sure it’ll stay that way for a long time.”
He
leaned back a little, resting his head on the cool glass of the window behind us, his hair falling against a poster hanging inside advertising the latest release from StarFlower. I’d forgotten she had a new release. I’d have to pick up a copy later. Or stream it, considering the contents of my bank account.
I blinked a few times to get my mind away from British pop singers and concentrated on the fact that I had Andrew Washington sitting next to me with his arm draped around my shoulders like it was an everyday occurrence.
“So, don’t take this the wrong way…” he began to say, as I looked over at him, the fear showing in my eyes.
I froze. What was this leading to? Was he going to tell me that he wanted to fuck me once and be done with me? Was I just a groupie to him? I didn’t want to be a groupie, but I also really wanted to sleep with him. Or was he going to tell me that the song wasn’t actually about me, that I was being an egotistical bitch?
“What?” I asked.
“Why is Peristerophobia your favorite band? I mean, I get why I love the band, because it’s my band. But you listen to way more music than just us. I can’t think of a reason why you’d consider us your favorite.”
I had no idea how I could have taken that in a wrong way. Silly boy.
“Oh. I mean, Peristerophobia is my favorite because it’s my favorite. It just is. Does there have to be a reason? Can’t I just love your music because I love your music?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know, I was just wondering. I’ve been told that I’m talented before, I’ve been told that I’m great at writing a catchy tune. But I’ve also been told that I’m an untalented pretty boy. I was just kind of… I don’t know. I was wondering if you liked the music or if that was just your way of trying to get into my pants.”
Oh. Okay, that I could take the wrong way.
“Seriously? No, Andrew. Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot. But I fell in love with your music long before I saw your face. It speaks to me. When I don’t have a friend in the world, I have your songs, your shows. The lyrics are always well-written, and the melodies are ones I wish I had the talent to create. Your music is nothing like I’ve ever heard before. I love it, and it’s that simple.”
He stared at me for a moment, then he placed his hand on my cheek. He turned me to look at him, and he placed his lips gently against mine. I responded quickly, opening my mouth to his. I let him pull me closer, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, never wanting to let go. I’d been kissed many times in my life - boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, people who had been simply dared to kiss me during party games - but it had never been quite like this before. The warmth started at my lips and reached all the way down to my toes. I felt sparks across my skin wherever his calloused fingers grazed.
Andrew slowed down after a moment and rested his forehead against mine.
I had to fight the urge to pull him down the street, towards my apartment. I wanted to introduce him to Pigeon, then lock the dog out of my bedroom and take my favorite musician for a ride. But for the first time in my life, it felt like it might be a mistake to move that fast. So instead, I let my hands fall down to grasp his and let out a sigh.
“I’ve got to get home soon,” I said.
“Are you telling me you have to leave, or are you inviting me over?” he asked with a sly smile
I kissed him in reply, desperately wanting to stay there, in his arms. My lips didn’t even leave his when I heard the bell ding from the record shop, and the employees left, clearing their throats as they passed us by.
“Get it, Andrew,” one of them said with a chuckle. I pulled away from him at that point.
“We probably shouldn’t keep this up out here, or we’ll end up getting arrested for public indecency,” I said. Andrew moved his hand away from where it was about to graze my chest.
“So is that a yes to going to your place?” he asked.
I let out a laugh.
“I don’t know. I really shouldn’t let you come over, but I really want you to.”
“Can I at least have your number?” he asked.
I nodded and held out my hand for his phone. I took it from him and added my name and number. As I placed it back in his pocket for him, he pulled me closer and brushed his lips against mine gently. My fingers automatically started to run through his hair. I seriously needed some self-control. I pulled away again.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I need to get home and let my dog out before he goes to the bathroom on the carpet,” I said.
“Can I at least walk you home?” he asked. “Or to your car? Wherever it is you’re going?”
“Yeah, I think that’d be okay,” I said.
We walked back towards Cranberry, towards the lot in the back that had two cars sitting there. I assumed one was his, considering the other was mine.
“Do you usually walk your dog out late at night like this by yourself? That doesn’t seem safe. You should have me help you.”
I laughed and leaned against my car door.
“Such a gentleman,” I said.
“Hey, my parents raised me right.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I turned around and unlocked the door. I hit the button to unlock the passenger side.
“Get in,” I said. “Unless you changed your mind.”
He hopped in and put his guitar in the backseat. I drove to my place and we let Pigeon out for a walk before we ended up sitting on the couch for hours, going back and forth between making out and talking. I tried to be good, not to go too far with him. Pigeon sticking his nose between us every now and then stopped me from outright sticking my hands down his pants and saying “fuck it” to taking things slow for the first time in my life.
Eventually, I drove him back to his car. The moment I got back home, I fell asleep. I was going to be a mess at work the next day, and I couldn’t bring myself to care.
CHAPTER FOUR
I light another cigarette
She lights up another bridge
Burned so many down
She’s an emotional pyro
“Beating Hearts,” Peristerophobia
The next morning, I hopped out of bed without a problem the moment my alarm went off, even though I’d gotten pretty much zero sleep the night before.
“Someone’s cheerful this morning,” Calvin pointed out as I glided through the tables, putting down chairs and giving them their morning wipe down. “I take it things went well with your musician lover last night?”
“His name is Andrew, and yes, things went well. Really wonderful.”
Calvin stopped what he was doing and gave me a good, long stare with both eyebrows raised.
“It didn’t go that well. I was a good girl. …Kind of,” I said. “Can you believe he wrote me a song? I wonder if Peristerophobia will ever record it. Or play it at a show. That would be amazing. And so, so weird.”
I was talking at such a rapid pace that I was surprised that I wasn’t tripping over my own words. I was twirling and giggling and the world seemed to be made of rainbows and butterflies.
“Okay then,” Calvin said with a chuckle. “You’re definitely going to get tipped well today with that attitude. How much caffeine have you already had?”
“I haven’t even had a full cup of coffee. I’m just in a good mood!” I said, bouncing over to him and giving him a wipe on the nose with the rag I’d been wiping down tables with. “Can’t a girl be happy? Last night was amazing, and I’m on got-felt-up-by-a-hot-guy high right now. Let me stay on this high. It’s been far too long since my last fix. Months. It’s been months.”
“Okay,” he said, flinching when I moved the rag a little too close to his nose again. “Just. Stop with the dirty rag near my face. That’s all I ask.”
I threw it on top of his head and frolicked towards the kitchen.
My entire shift, I was a ball of sunshine and pep. I counted down the minutes until my break, when I could check my phone and hopefully see a text from Andrew.
Or maybe I’d get to call him. Maybe I could see him again. Maybe I could still call it moving slowly if I waited until tonight to jump his bones.
He called before I had a chance to take my break. All of my customers had been taken care of, and it was about time for my break anyway, so I moved to the back and answered my phone with a, “Hello you, it’s been far too long.”
Maybe I was too eager. But it was Andrew, and I didn’t give a fuck.
“I know, I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever,” he said on the other end of the phone. I could hear the smile in his voice, but it vanished with his next words. He went serious, a little business-like. “So, something kind of crazy happened this morning.”
“Crazier than you walking into my work and singing a song about me?” I asked.
“Yeah, actually. Ken - you know Ken? Ken Ramirez? The bass player in the band?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Anyway. He got a call last night from the manager of Konfusion, where we did that show? They’re working on doing a series of acoustic shows with bands for the rest of the summer, all over their stores, throughout the country. They want us to see about playing a few. Apparently that manager suggested us to corporate after they saw us play, and they liked us, so. We’re heading off on tour a little sooner than we planned.”
Oh.
“How much sooner?” I asked.
“We planned on going in August. Now we’re heading off next week.”
Well, shit. I thought I’d get at least another month of Andrew before he was on the road. I figured I’d be able to use that time to see if I really liked him, or if me liking him was a side effect of his music. I was hoping to see if he’d be worth waiting for while he was on tour.
“Oh, that’s good. I mean, it’s good to get more gigs. Good. Really. Great, actually. Better than good.”
“You’re upset,” Andrew said.
“No, I’m good.”
“You just said ‘good’ like, a hundred times. That doesn’t really indicate things actually being good.”
I let out a sigh. Apparently he listened when I spoke. That was a new one. Usually the guys I hooked up with were the “nod and smile” type.