Are You Going to Kiss Me Now?

by Sloane Tanen

It was fun listening to Joe’s expert narration of Anna Karenina. His voice was commanding, full of rhythm and power. I could see where Jonah inherited his talent. I thought of suggesting a career in voice-overs if Hoggalicious Two was as bad as it promised to be, but decided to keep it to myself. As I sat there, listening to Joe and staring at the emerging Milky Way overhead, I made a mental note to never, ever forget this moment. I knew it would never come again.

  After a half hour or so, I left Joe reading to Eve while I went out back with Jonah to take the clean clothes off the line. It was probably only seven o’clock or so, but I was starting to feel like a kid high on NyQuil: hyper and exhausted. I wanted to get dressed and go to sleep. That said, trying to unclip the clothes with one hand, while holding my phone with the other, all without having my towel fall off, wasn’t easy.

  “Why don’t you do the reaching part and I’ll fold,” I finally suggested.

  “But it’s so much more interesting this way,” Jonah laughed.

  I blushed. He was much friendlier with a little tequila flowing through his holy temple.

  “Look how well we get along when you’re not trying to upstage me,” he smiled as we traded positions.

  “Ahhh, I didn’t realize the great Jonah Baron wasn’t to be upstaged,” I snorted. “By a girl no less, eh?”

  He shrugged.

  “You had us in the wrong hemisphere,” I joked. “I mean, sometimes you gotta step aside, guy.”

  “OK, that was bad,” he laughed.

  “Polaris!” I mocked, enjoying the rare opportunity which he was amenable to being teased.

  “Fair enough,” he smiled, pulling his shirt off the line. “Fair enough.”

  “Do you think we’ll get out of here soon?” I asked, feeling less tired all of a sudden.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled, poking his head through the neck of his T-shirt. “But I’m sort of liking it.” He stumbled a little before regaining his balance.

  “Me too!” I admitted, relieved that I wasn’t alone. “We must be crazy, right?”

  “Maybe,” he sighed, tugging Chaz and Milan’s clothes off the line and tossing them to me to fold. We worked together quietly for a few minutes.

  “The sky here is just so incredible. It’s a whole other sky. It’s like the real sky,” he breathed, slowly sliding down and motioning for me to sit next to him and have a look. “Sometimes, when I look at it, I wonder what the point of my life is. All those stars and planets up there. They make me feel insignificant. In a good way, like we’re all just here for a minute and we better make the most of it. It’s like when you see the Colosseum or the Pyramids for the first time, you know what I mean?”

  I’d obviously never seen the Colosseum or the Pyramids, but I did know what he meant. I liked Jonah’s take on the world, and he always presented his thoughts in an interesting way. He was good company when he wasn’t being an asshole.

  “It’s like,” Jonah frowned slightly, “back home everything is always so urgent all the time. As if any of our shit matters. We’re just another band, man. Who cares?” he said in an angry, loud voice. “But between my mom and my manager and the guys in the band and the photographers and all the crazy girls…there’s just so much noise. Everyone is always on my case about something. I can’t even think straight.” He looked at me and checked his anger with an embarrassed smile. “It’s just that it’s like impossible not to lose perspective. I look up at this sky and I know none of that matters. This is what’s real,” he said, pointing at the stars. “I feel alive and inspired. Less artifice, more beauty.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything for fear that my voice would crack. I really did know what Jonah meant.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, suddenly turning toward me.

  “Just tired,” I said rubbing my eyes in an attempt to hide the tears his little speech inspired. I was obviously an emotional basket case.

  Jonah reached for my hand and squeezed it. Neither one of us said anything for a few minutes.

  “I’m grateful to have met you, Fran. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he said. “You’re cool. You’re smart. You’re pretty amazing.”

  “You’re drunk,” I said, pulling my hand away.

  “A little,” he laughed, bowing his head coyly from under his long eyelashes. There were these little expression lines on both sides of his smile that I’d never noticed before. They were like parentheses on both sides of his playful grin.

  “Fran?” he said, recomposing his face into a mask of seriousness.

  “What?”

  “Your towel is falling off.”

  “Oh shi…” I started, before realizing he was joking.

  “Jerk,” I laughed, pushing him a little.

  “I wish I knew girls like you,” he said. “I hope we always stay friends.”

  “Me too,” I said, feeling oddly touched. I started to stand up to get my clothes. He grabbed my hand back and pulled me down again. I thought my heart would blow through my chest it was beating so fast. He leaned in. I clutched the towel and held my breath.

  “Do you still like Cisco?” he whispered.

  I shook my head no because I wasn’t sure what else to do.

  Was it really possible that Jonah Baron (homophobic, born again, Republican) was about to kiss me? And was it possible that I was feeling a little tingle at the notion? It was weird. And while I knew it was insanely fickle to be even considering kissing Jonah after my devotion to Cisco, my lack of sobriety was helping facilitate my mounting crush without too much trouble. And besides, I was completely flattered. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

  “Are you going to kiss me now or what?” I finally blurted out.

  “No,” he said.

  “Then why is your face like two inches away from mine?” I asked.

  “I just like to look at you,” he said seriously. “I want to look at you.” His expression was almost pained.

  “Come off it, Jonah,” I giggled nervously.

  Jonah let go of my hand and started rambling again. He was definitely tipsy too.

  “Everyone asks me why I haven’t had a girlfriend in so long,” he sighed, leaning back and relieving the tension. “The truth is I haven’t found anyone good enough.”

  “Good enough?” I laughed.

  “I don’t mean it like that. I mean, you know, anybody who held my interest. All these beautiful girls I meet are so nuts. You’re different.”

  “Because I’m not beautiful?” I asked, hating myself for sounding like Eve but unable to resist.

  “No, not that,” he said, staring at me. “You look great. I mean, those chicks are like sex-starved psychopaths. They totally freak me out. I can’t even tell you how many pairs of underwear I get in the mail every day.”

  “Ewww. Who would do that?”

  He shook his head, looking disturbed. “You’re just cool. You don’t act like a dumb-ass. I’m just so impressed with you.”

  Impressed? He was impressed with me. Such a weird thing to say.

  “It’s like every day you’ve surprised me in some small way. All the little things you know how to do.”

  “Well, I do watch a lot of educational TV,” I laughed.

  “Stop diminishing yourself. You’re really an incredible person, Francesca.”

  I didn’t say anything because I thought my voice might come out all wonky and emotional again. I was beginning to think I didn’t hold my liquor so well.

  “And it’s not just what you know but how you think and what you say.” He paused. “You make me want to be better. I like myself better around you. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

  “You said I was useless,” I said, laughing to clear the sob stuck in my throat.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know.”

  “Woman,” he started singing with a sly smile, “I can hardly express my mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness…”

  “Oh, I love that song,” I cooed, overw
helmed at how moved I was by the sexiness of his voice. Those “crazy girls” suddenly seemed a little less crazy.

  He reached for a piece of my hair and spun it around his forefinger.

  “I’m a Jewish virgin,” I blurted out in a ludicrous, tequila-driven non sequitur.

  “I know,” he said excitedly, letting go of my hair and looking up at the sky smiling.

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “On the contrary.”

  I couldn’t help picturing Jonah and me having sex together for the first time. I decided not to share with him the fact that my virginity wasn’t like some great gift I was protecting but rather more like a pimple that I couldn’t get rid of.

  I turned my head toward him. Short of a soundtrack and a light dimmer, it was make-out time. Jonah looked at me with a rapt determination and then kissed me. If you could call it a kiss. It was more like a peck really. The sort of peck you’d give a puppy. On the head.

  “Good then,” he said, standing up and stumbling a little. I was stunned. Maybe that’s how Christians kissed? It seemed my virginity was in no immediate danger of getting lost.

  “Get dressed, Fran,” he ordered, pulling my clothes off the line and turning his head to give me privacy. I was a little confused as I slipped out of the towel and put my clothes back on. I slipped my phone in my pocket. Bad kiss aside, this was gonna blow Jordan’s mind.

  “Are you all right?” I asked him. “You seem kind of bummed. Do you feel dirty and used? Like we sinned?” I joked, hoping to get a smile out of him.

  “Nah, I’m good,” he laughed, reaching for my hand.

  “I should help Chaz with the food,” I said trying to play it cool.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, squeezing my hand again and looking directly into my eyes. I melted a little.

  “Are you and Chaz friends now?”

  “I’m trying,” he said. “I’ve been an ass. I want to make amends.”

  “Is that what you’re doing with me? Making amends?” I was suddenly paranoid that maybe he didn’t really like me that much after all.

  “No,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. His breath smelled like the bottom of my mom’s wine glass.

  “I feel stupid about treating Chaz badly, that’s all. You were right. My behavior’s been anything but Christian.”

  “I can’t believe you actually care what I think.”

  Jonah looked at me in surprise.

  “Of course I care what you think.”

  “I’ll help him,” I said, wiping my hair out of my face and thrilling at the idea that Jonah might not be as narrow-minded as he initially seemed.

  “I’ll help Chaz,” he insisted. “You go lay out some blankets for us to sleep on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  When I stumbled out front, Cisco and Milan were gone. All but one of the blankets were gone too. They left the big, itchy one behind. Obviously, things were working out with them. God bless. I had a Christian rocker in my pocket. I really wanted to talk to Jordan. I didn’t ever want to forget how good I felt at that moment. And it would be interesting to compare it to how badly I felt two days ago after the Cisco episode. It wasn’t so much that I was mad for Jonah, per se, but I really liked the feeling of being chosen. It was amazing. And while I knew Cisco wouldn’t care, I liked the idea of showing him that I’d moved on. I hated the idea of him thinking I was some doofus, freckled fan with an undying crush on him.

  As nobody else seemed to be around, I took this as a golden opportunity to use the bathroom…and actual toilet paper instead of leaves. I sneaked into the cabin and had just sat down on the toilet when I heard Joe’s voice on the other side of the door.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why are you doing this?”

  “Just one kiss?” I heard Eve say.

  I panicked. Should I let them know I was there? Were they going to hook up? No!

  “You’re drunk, Eve,” Joe said gently.

  “Qu’est-ce que je ferais sans toi?” she cajoled.

  “Where on earth is this coming from?”

  “You’re cute,” she cooed.

  “Good God, Eve, you smell like a brewery.”

  “I prefer experienced men,” she giggled hideously. “Why not?”

  “Let’s see,” Joe ticked off. “I’m married. You’re young enough to be my daughter. And you’re three sheets to the wind.”

  “You’ll be gentle with me, oui?”

  “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  “You don’t like to hear me speak French?” she giggled.

  “Jesus Christ, Eve.” His voice was suddenly firm.

  “C’mon, Joe, you know you want to. It’s not a big deal. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Knock it off, Eve, it’s not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny.”

  “You’re being stupid.”

  “So?”

  I heard her laugh again, and then something slammed up against the bathroom door. Hard. I froze in fear.

  “Get off, for Christ’s sake! What the hell is the matter with you anyway? That’s enough!”

  “You pushed me!” she yelled.

  “You pushed me!” Joe yelled back. “What’s wrong with you? Are you insane or something?”

  “Why does everybody hate me?”

  “I don’t hate you, Eve. There’s more to life than who wants to sleep with you. I’m married, for God’s sake. I don’t cheat on my wife. I don’t screw young girls!”

  “Well, aren’t you the virtuous one,” she sneered, her voice betraying her humiliation.

  “Look, Eve, this isn’t about me. It’s about you,” he said, sounding more like the movie star he was than the glob of human disappointment he’d become in the last four days.

  “Why do you sound like you’re mad if you don’t hate me?”

  “Because I am mad. It’s like you want to be a bimbo and you resent not being treated that way,” Joe snorted to himself in disbelief. “You’re smart, you’re talented. Why are you wasting your life acting like a twit? Where the hell is your self-esteem?”

  She didn’t say anything. At least she didn’t say anything I could hear through the bathroom door. I was getting sweaty in the small stall.

  I heard Eve make a little whimpering sound. I wondered if this would be a bad time to flush.

  “What do I have to do to get through that head of yours?” Joe continued. “You have everything in front of you. You’re young and beautiful and talented, Eve.”

  “I don’t feel young…or talented…or beautiful.”

  “That’s because you have no self-respect. You treat yourself as badly as you treat others. Talking to your manager like she’s an insect, mooning over Cisco when you know full well he’s a player, hitting on me,” he chuckled, “punishing all of us by running away like a spoiled little brat. Your behavior is incomprehensible. Where are your parents, for God’s sake?”

  It was a good question. Other than her comment about having them skinned and turned into boots, Eve had never mentioned a mother or father. It was impossible to imagine her as somebody’s daughter.

  “My parents?” she laughed stiffly. “I don’t speak to them. They’re provincial. They understand nothing.”

  “I see,” Joe mumbled. “How ’bout friends? Got any of those, Eve?”

  “I don’t need anyone!” she shrieked. There was something savage in Eve’s tone. She was a cultivated little monster.

  “You do, Eve,” Joe said gently. “You do need people.”

  “Well, excuse me. What do you know about me, Joe?”

  “I know you’re unhappy. I know if we ever get out of here I’m telling my daughter she has to wait until she finishes high school before making movies. I don’t want this for my daughter.”

  “Yes, God forbid your precious daughter turn out like me.”

  “I don’t want her growing up under a microscope like you. When I got my first job, I was well into my twenties. I was an adult
playing a kid. The studios protected kids back then. At least they tried. It’s different today. It’s no way to grow up. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you, Eve.”

  I was loving Joe. He was much better as a parental figure than a decaying action hero.

  “Thanks, Joe. That really means a lot,” she said sarcastically.

  “You know something else, Eve?” he sighed. “That attitude of yours isn’t doing you any favors. Look at yourself. You’ve squandered your youth on a filthy old vampire. Do you feel empowered? Does the knowledge that Peter McArthy wanted you once make you feel less lonely? Does it?”

  Silence.

  “Old men should be with old women,” he finished. Despite myself, I almost started to clap. Take that, Dad!

  “What’s age got to do with it?” Eve asked. “We had a profound connection. I’ve never even been with anyone else. You could never understand.”

  “What I understand is that his behavior was not only inappropriate, it was illegal.”

  “Oh, please,” she moaned. “You’re as unsophisticated as my father.”

  Joe let out a loud guffaw.

  “You think what you had with Peter McArthy was sophisticated?” he asked.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand that not only did he cheat on his wife, he cheated you out of your youth. Peter McArthy sucked you dry. And the worst part is that you blame yourself. He crossed a line that he should never have even considered. It makes me sick to even think about it. You’re worth so much more than that. I’ll kill that lecherous motherfucker if we ever get out of here.”

  “Screw you, Joe!” she cried, bursting into what actually sounded like real tears. “You were messing around on your wife with Jonah’s mom. You’re so much better than the rest of us?”

  “That was a long time ago. And it was different. We were peers, Eve. And I never claimed to love Beverly. She knew I loved my wife. I wasn’t taking advantage of anybody.”

  “Peter didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted to.”

  “You were fourteen years old! Of course he took advantage. You were a child. You’re still a child. We all do regrettable things when we’re young, Eve. It’s par for the course. And it’s OK.”

  “I’m not a child anymore. I feel ancient. I hate myself,” she sobbed. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be so concerned with what everybody thinks of you all the time? Do you? Do you?” I nodded to myself in the bathroom. I could relate to that, sistah.