To Selena, With Love

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To Selena, With Love Page 4

by Chris Perez


  I remember an especially trying phase when Selena was all about crazy jackets that were cut short and square, with enormous shoulder pads. One particularly odious version was black on the left side and white on the right side. Meanwhile, I was listening to Nirvana and that band was wearing torn jeans and sneakers—pretty much my everyday look. Still, I loved it that Selena could create something seemingly out of thin air, visualizing ideas in her mind and then making them real through her voice and her hands.

  That’s the thing about Selena: she amazed me more and more every day that we spent together. This girl was getting under my skin in ways no other woman ever had. It was now to the point where I could barely stifle my feelings for her even when Abraham was around. I knew that I was in trouble even before our troubles really began.

  There was kind of a ritual when the band was touring on Big Bertha. If we were far from our destination, we would all hang out in our bunks or play video games in the back lounge. The closer we got to our stop for the night, the more we all hung out in the front of the bus, looking out the windows and joking around as we eagerly anticipated being able to stretch our legs and maybe even explore a new city.

  On this one particular night, everyone except Selena and I had gone to the front of the bus. She and I lingered in the bunk area, standing just a few feet apart from each other. Even with the door closed we could hear Pete clowning around to make everyone laugh.

  I think that Selena and I both realized at the same time that we were alone for once. I wanted to kiss her, but I was afraid that Selena might turn me down. The strength of my feelings for her, along with this awkward situation, made me more reserved than I would have been with another woman in another place.

  Nonetheless, bit by bit, we began drawing closer together as we talked. Well, to be honest, I was nervously backing up as she gradually came toward me. Selena had her back to the door leading to the front lounge area; I kept taking little steps away from her. I was breathing harder now, my face flushed and hot as I wondered, Is this really going to happen?

  I couldn’t deny my desire any longer. I was too overcome by Selena’s presence, as if she were a magnet and I were merely a sliver of steel. She held me in place with her body, those eyes on mine. I stopped moving backward and leaned on the closet door with my left shoulder. Selena took another step toward me. There was nothing else that either of us could do at that moment but kiss.

  And what a kiss it was. I had never kissed a woman with so much depth of feeling. There was no stopping me, or this.

  We kissed for several minutes, our bodies pressed close together, despite this little voice in my head saying, You’re dead; Abraham is going to kill you.

  All of a sudden, the door to the bunk area flew open behind Selena, letting all of the noise and laughter from the front lounge spill in. Selena’s face paled as we quickly broke apart. She was too frightened to turn around. Had her father seen us?

  In a split second, though, I knew it was cool. The intruder wasn’t Abraham, but Rick, our keyboardist and the guy I usually roomed with on the road.

  “What’s up, Rick?” I asked, partly to let Selena know that it was okay, and partly to downplay for Rick what he had obviously seen. I felt bad for him. He was a nice guy and freaking out, no doubt, about having seen us together, knowing how Abraham would react if he knew.

  On the other hand, if I’d had to pick somebody on that bus to walk in on Selena and me kissing, I would have picked Rick. He was the least of our worries.

  When we got to the hotel, Rick and I got our luggage and room keys, then walked to the corner store because it was still fairly early. Pete and Joe were rooming together as they usually did, and Selena was staying in a room with her parents and Suzette. I had just turned twenty-one a few weeks before, so it was still a novelty for me to buy alcohol; Rick and I went to the store and bought beer to bring back to the room.

  Finally, safely behind the closed hotel room door, I opened a beer and tried to talk about what had happened. I decided to ask Rick straight up if he was upset with us.

  “No need to worry about me,” he said with a little chuckle. “But you need to be careful that Abraham doesn’t find out.”

  For a chilly moment, I thought about what might have happened if Abraham, instead of Rick, had walked in on Selena and me. Abraham was very protective of Selena. Besides the obvious objections he might have to her seeing me—because I was in the band and I wasn’t good enough for his daughter—he would also worry about her getting hurt. Abraham had seen me with other women, and he thought of Selena as young and naive. It was easy for me to imagine how he might use the threat that I wouldn’t be faithful to her as ammunition.

  Also, being old-school, Abraham’s was the kind of marriage where his word was law, and Marcella and his children obeyed that law. He might also fear that whomever Selena married might then dictate what she did, including leave her musical career to start a family. In reality, I was the farthest you could get from being that kind of guy. I was ready to support Selena in whatever she wanted to do. But he didn’t know that.

  “Of course I’m going to be careful,” I told Rick now. “But I can’t believe what’s happening.”

  Rick gave that little chuckle again. I could see that he, like Abraham, was thinking that I was playing Selena and trying to get something out of it, to use her in some way. But it wasn’t like that and I told him so.

  “This is different,” I told him. “I really have feelings for Selena.”

  “Shut up, dude,” he said at once. “Leave me out of this. The less I know, the better.”

  I couldn’t stop talking, though. I was nervous, and this was the first time that I had talked about Selena with anybody. I kept trying to make Rick understand how serious it was, while at the same time asking questions about what might happen if Abraham found out about us.

  “I don’t know,” Rick kept saying. “I don’t know, Chris.”

  “Man,” I said finally. “I don’t know, either. Maybe I need to end this before it gets crazy. Maybe it needs to stop.”

  Rick just laughed. “Shut up, dude,” he told me for the hundredth time. “You know you’re not going to stop anything.”

  And I thought, You know what, he’s right. I’m not going to stop anything. At least Rick hadn’t put me down or told me to stop seeing Selena. That was almost the same thing as giving us his approval.

  The hotel phone jangled on the table next to Rick’s bed, startling us both. He and I stared at the phone, feeling guilty for even having this conversation. Then Rick slowly picked up the receiver and said hello.

  His face broke into a grin, and then he started laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up, dude. He’s right here.”

  It was Selena. Rick always called her “dude.” “Did you and Rick talk? Is he okay?” she asked anxiously.

  Rick was sitting there on his bed, looking at me and shaking his head. “Yeah, we were just talking about everything,” I said. “Everything is cool.”

  “I’m probably freaking out more than Rick is,” she said with a little moan. “I can’t believe how close that was. Anyway, I just wanted to call you real quick to see if you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She laughed. “Not if I see you first,” she said, and hung up.

  “Well,” I said, still looking at Rick, “I guess it’s on.”

  Our feelings for each other began to steamroll our common sense as Selena and I continued touring with the band over the next few months. Any chance we got, we sneaked off to be alone together. Selena had no problem saying to her father, “Chris is going to the store with me for a few minutes,” or, “Chris and I are going to get something to eat. We’ll be right back.”

  Abraham would say, “Okay, you all come right back,” and off we’d go.

  The minute that Selena and I were out of sight, we would act like any normal couple, holding hands or walking with our arms around each other, or even chancing a
breathless kiss during our precious few minutes of alone time, away from Abraham’s watchful gaze.

  We were always on the down low around her parents, but as the weeks turned into months, we gradually stopped caring about who else in the band knew about us. Everyone in the band had personal lives and secrets; we all had to figure ways around Abraham, who was a conservative man, a devout Jehovah’s Witness, and a traditional father. We all knew how to keep secrets from him because nobody wanted to unleash his temper.

  Besides, Abraham simply didn’t see me as a candidate for Selena’s affection, and Selena and I were so young that I’m sure most of the band members thought that our desire for each other would burn itself out and the relationship would end before long. Nobody realized the enduring bond we were forming as we fell in love—including Selena and me.

  Selena usually took the lead in demonstrating our affection openly. I was too nervous about her father finding out to take much initiative. In fact, she used to love teasing me, knowing how anxious I was. I’d be hanging out in the back of the bus with Joe or Pete, or even with A.B., and she’d just come in and say, “Hey, what’s going on here?” and kiss me.

  That kind of display terrified Joe, because he didn’t want to upset Abraham, but it was usually A.B. who would say something.

  “Selena, why do you have to do that in front of us?” A.B. might ask, but Selena would crack up. Like most pesky little sisters, Selena loved getting a rise out of her big brother.

  Between shows, Selena and I saw each other as much as possible. I learned more about her as time went on, yet the more time I spent with Selena, the more often she managed to surprise me. Once, for instance, we went horseback riding on the beach around the bay in Corpus, out near Mustang Island, with a few friends. The horses were calm as we rode away from the barn, and we went at a nice little pace. It all felt very romantic as the horses cruised along the shoreline while Selena and I chatted with our friends.

  On the way back, though, the horses went crazy. The animals knew when they’d hit the end of the trail and could turn around; at that point, they practically wheeled in place to gallop back to the stables for feeding time or whatever.

  Our friends were shouting, “Oh, shit!” as the horses raced back to the barn, terrified out of their minds. I was scared, too, but of course I was too cool to act scared in front of Selena. I was afraid that if I panicked, the horse might run even faster, too.

  Meanwhile, Selena was galloping on her horse alongside mine, laughing her head off, not at all frightened. She looked as comfortable on that horse as she did onstage, and I didn’t even know she could ride.

  Then again, Selena wasn’t like most women I knew. When I suggested fishing from the piers in Corpus, where you could rent poles, she surprised me again by being all for it. I used to fish with my Pops quite a bit—he had a little skiff, and loved to tool around in it with my mom and me—so I was comfortable baiting live fish on the hooks. Selena was thrilled when I showed her that, just by tossing a line with these small fish, you could catch a bigger fish.

  Fishing in Corpus was even better than when I used to fish in the fresh water around San Antonio. In fresh water, you can have the line in the water for half an hour without getting a bite, but in salt water you’ll catch something every few minutes, whether it’s a keeper or not. Selena surprised me again by wanting to do everything herself. The only time I stopped her was when she caught a hardhead, a fish that’s kind of like a catfish and has barblike whiskers that can really poke through your skin.

  Often when I saw Selena, I would bring white roses, her favorite flower, and we were always on the phone. We also wrote love letters and cards constantly. I still have boxes of cards—she saved every card I sent her.

  Selena wrote such sweet notes to me that it still hurts to read them, especially because she dated every one and I can remember what were doing on those dates. “I love looking back to where we began, seeing us as we were at the beginning,” she wrote once, “then slowly leafing through the memories that we’ve made together to bring us to where we are today.”

  Eventually, everyone in the band seemed to grow more comfortable with the idea of us as a couple. It got to the point where we might be standing backstage, and she’d just come up and put her arms around me or give me a kiss in front of the whole road crew. I still hung back a little. I felt like I had to be careful, not just because of Abraham, but because I didn’t want to be thought of as possessive or insecure.

  Like any other relationship, ours went from one thing to the next and continued progressing. The only difference was the fast pace. Again, this was partly due to our circumstances. We weren’t working nine-to-five jobs and seeing each other only on dates. We were together in the studio, at A.B.’s house, on the tour bus, and onstage. Inevitably, it was on the bus where we were finally intimate for the very first time.

  We were traveling from Corpus to Dallas at the time. When we arrived at our destination and everyone began unloading things from the bus, my legs were shaking. Once again, I didn’t know how to act or what to say. I remember standing outside the bus, talking to Pete, and blurting out, “I think I’m really falling in love with her,” because I was that desperate to talk about it.

  Pete was supportive. “Man, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it. I can see how she feels about you, too. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Just at that moment, I happened to look up at the bus and saw one of the blinds twitch in one of the side windows. My heart was pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears, above the Dallas street traffic.

  Maybe things were going to be okay. And maybe not.

  That night was the first and only time I ever felt strange going up onstage with Selena. My body was still buzzing and my mind was a jumble. Everything felt upside down. Selena and I knew each other better onstage than we did in that back room of the bus; onstage, we knew each other’s moves, while our private physical connection off stage was still fresh and unexplored.

  We were both freaking out so much that we couldn’t look at each other. Of course each of us knew where the other one was, because we had our set places and routines, but we were trying so hard to act like nothing was going on between us that we literally didn’t look at each other. I kept tuning my guitar and checking the amps, when of course everything was fine.

  When the show began, Selena came onstage and kept her eyes focused on the crowd. I was right behind her, on the same side as always. But, instead of looking in my direction, Selena kept looking the opposite way. We were both flustered, and then we had to kick into gear. I started playing the guitar, and she started singing, and after a few minutes things almost felt normal again.

  Almost, but not quite. We both knew that something big had just happened, and that things were going to be different. After the show, I went up to her and said, “That was weird, right?”

  “Yeah, that was weird,” she agreed, and then she just started laughing.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that what happened, happened,” I said.

  She grabbed my hand quickly and then let it go, so I knew that, whatever happened from now on, we were in it together.

  I never imagined that Selena and I would declare our love for each other in a Pizza Hut, but that’s exactly what happened.

  Whenever the band was on the road, we had a routine of meeting at the bus when it was checkout time at the hotel. The road crew would already be gone with the equipment, but we’d load our own bags onto Big Bertha and wait until everyone was there, then move on to our next destination.

  Selena was almost always the last to arrive, usually because she was making last-minute clothing changes or doing her hair and makeup. It had gotten to the point where she never went out in public without looking her best; we never knew when reporters or fans or producers might be in a crowd or just waiting on the sidewalk if they saw our bus pull up.

  This particular morning, though, it wasn’t Selena who was last to arrive: it w
as Abraham. The rest of us sat talking on the bus, and Selena kept saying how hungry she was. Her favorite food was pizza with extra pepperoni; I had noticed a Pizza Hut across the street but didn’t say anything about it. I assumed that Abraham was just on the phone with a promoter or something. There was no telling when he might return.

  Selena, however, had spotted the Pizza Hut, too. She was going to do what she wanted—she usually did. “Want to go get pizza, Chris?” she said.

  Everybody knew we had started a relationship by then, and they had our backs. The first thing Abraham would do when he returned to the bus was ask where we were, but we knew they’d just say, “She went to Pizza Hut and Chris went with her.”

  Abraham probably wouldn’t think anything of it. In fact, he’d feel better because Selena had a chaperone. That thought made me feel bad once again about all of the sneaking around we were doing.

  I thought we’d order pizza to go, but Selena wanted to sit at a table. We sat near a window so that we could see the bus. And then she just started talking, asking me about my feelings.

  “I’m really happy with you,” Selena said. “I love spending time with you. But I need to know where you think our relationship is headed.”

  I decided that I had to tell her right then how I really felt. This was a terrifying prospect. I’d had girlfriends before. I had even said I loved them, because I thought I knew what love was. But I had never experienced the feelings I had for Selena, and I told her so. I just opened up and said how happy she made me feel.

  “I always look forward to seeing you and spending time with you,” I said. “To be honest, I can’t wait until we’re going to be together again. When we’re not on the road, I wish that I could speed up time so that I could be with you. And, when we’re together, I wish that I could slow time down.”

  I told her that I didn’t feel right hiding our relationship from her father. It was gnawing away at me. I was tired of the secrecy. “I wake up sometimes in the morning and feel sick, like I’m doing something wrong and just haven’t been caught yet, but today’s the day.”

 

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