Chasing My Forever

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Do you have a ride home?” Zeke asks as I take off my apron.

  “Of course,” I lie. I’ve walked home a few times, which freaks Kellie out. It’s true, this side of the Strip isn’t the safest, but a taxi or shared car service can be expensive, especially as some of the bars are closing now and prices are jacked up.

  I breathe in the air. It’s a bit stifling and still warm out, and the air quality isn’t as good as it was in Idaho, but I still feel at peace. This is better than being at home, under the watchful eye of Roy and my parents, pestering me to make adult decisions I’m not ready for.

  As soon as I reach the corner, the sound of a motorcycle stops me dead in my tracks. The overhead light illuminates the figure on the bike, dressed in all black. They idle there with the rider staring at me or past me. I can’t be sure. I swallow hard and contemplate my chances of running back into the café when the driver lifts the helmet off their head.

  Beautiful dark hair sways back and forth. Gone is Quinn’s beanie, and I hate that I’m seeing him without it for the first time under the cloak of darkness and overhead street lights.

  “Quinn, you scared me.” I hesitantly step forward.

  “Sorry about that. I expected you to come out back.”

  “You were waiting for me?” My voice rises at the end of my statement or is it a question. I’m not exactly sure. The only thing I know is that I’m surprised and relieved.

  He nods, puts the kickstand down, gets off his bike, and walks a few steps closing the gap between us. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I look up at him. He has to be over six feet tall to my barely five-foot five height. His eyes, the ones that have captivated me from the first time I had a good chance to look into them, bear down on me. I could get lost in the sea of blue he carries with him. However, it’s his hair that I can’t take my eyes off. I’ve only seen it covered by the knit cap he wears, and I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it, to feel the silky strands touch my skin. It’d be so easy, to just fall at his feet, but that’s not me.

  I stand tall and square my shoulders while keeping one hand on my bag. This makes him smile and I’m right back to where I was, willing to fall to the ground and beg him for attention.

  “Would you like a ride home?”

  Leaning to the side, I glance at the bike again. I’ve never been on a motorcycle, and honestly, it’s not on my priority list. But this is Quinn, and something tells me if I say no, he’ll take it to heart and the offer to get a ride home from him will never come my way again.

  “I have an extra helmet, and I’ll go slow.”

  Slow? What if I want it hard and fast? The fantasy I had about Quinn and me, plays in my mind. All I can see is me pushed up against the wall with him between my—

  “Nola!” Quinn yells my name.

  My hand immediately covers my face in embarrassment. I can’t believe I was thinking about him and me when he’s standing right in front of me.

  “If you’re unsure about the bike, I can call us an Uber or Lyft, whichever you prefer.”

  I shake my head. “The bike is fine. I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

  He leans down and whispers, “Good thoughts, I hope.”

  Oh boy, you have no idea. Thankfully, those thoughts stay inside my mind and don’t come flowing out of my mouth. Quinn reaches for my hand and pulls me behind him. I really want to press pause on everything that’s happening right now because this guy is holding my hand, although, in hindsight, it probably means nothing.

  Except, it means everything to me.

  Quinn hands me the helmet, and when I struggle to put it on, he’s there to help. Every time his hand brushes against my skin, goose bumps rise and send a cold chill over my body. The last time I felt like this was… well never, if I’m being honest. I’ve never had the all-consuming anxiety I feel right now. I want to scream, dance, jump for joy, sit in the corner and ask myself why this is happening to me, and then launch myself into his arms so I can kiss him.

  Stop, I tell myself. This is nothing more than a ride home.

  Then why does it feel like more?

  “I’m going to get on first, then you can use my shoulder to steady yourself and swing your leg over, okay?”

  “Okay,” I reply. He moves, as if he’s in slow motion, swinging his leg over his bike. He looks at me and nods, my cue that it’s my turn to do the same. Setting my hand on his leather jacket, I heave my leg over the side and hop until I’m seated dead center.

  “Comfy?”

  “Sure,” I tell him. I don’t know what to do with my hands. As much as I’d love to wrap them around his waist, no. I’m not that bold.

  Quinn puts his helmet on and starts the bike. I had it in my mind that he’d have to do that awkward jumpy thing with one leg, but no. This guy, who performs in a coffee shop, can afford one of those fancy push start bikes.

  He revs the engine and I’m done for. The vibration between my legs… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it home before… oh, thank God he can’t hear me moaning. I’ve never been happier to wear a helmet than I am right now.

  He walks the bike to the stop sign, he turns and yells, “You might want to hang on.”

  Right, okay. But to what?

  The bike lurches forward, and I grab the sides of his jacket. Where’s the “oh shit grip” when I need one? It takes me a few minutes to grow accustomed to riding, but once I do, the exhilaration I feel is indescribable. I want to take my helmet off, to feel the wind in my hair and against my cheeks, but I don’t dare.

  He drives us down the Sunset Strip, which is alive and happening. People line up for miles, waiting to get into their favorite club, and parties spill out onto the streets. This is why I wanted to be here, to experience this different way of life.

  At the stoplight, he turns to me. “Where do you live?”

  I give him the address and we’re off, speeding down the road. I’m laughing. I can’t help it. The way I feel right now, I never want this moment to end. Except it does when he slows down and drives over one of the speed bumps. My ride didn’t last long, but it was freaking amazing.

  Quinn helps me off the bike. I hand him the helmet and hope his fingers brush against mine. When they don’t, I try not to let my disappointment show on my face.

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “You’re welcome. Are you working tomorrow? I mean tonight since it’s already well into the morning?”

  I shake my head. “No, thank God.” If I’m not mistaken, I think his face falls. Was he planning to come see me? Should I call Zeke and tell him I need another shift? Kellie would kill me. As it is, my time here is limited, and she wants to go out tonight.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Bye Quinn and thank you again.” I step away and wave. He pulls off. The loud engine of his bike echoes in my complex. When he’s out of sight, I all but run up to my apartment and throw the door open. I’m praying Kellie’s awake because I need to talk to someone.

  “Kellie?”

  “In here,” she yells from the living room. Our place is small and had I taken a few more steps I would’ve seen her sitting on the couch, watching television.

  “I’m in love,” I say, plopping down on the couch.

  “With who?” she asks after turning off the TV.

  “Quinn. Sofia’s brother.”

  She rolls her eyes, picks up her phone and presses a few buttons. She shows me her phone. “Look at Sofia’s status.”

  Brother came to visit!

  “Huh,” I say, looking more closely. I expand the picture and study it. I can’t remember if this is the same guy she showed us while in school or not, and I was certain that Quinn’s her brother. I had seen his picture enough that I thought I had his face memorized.

  “So, see, clearly not the same guy.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No, buts,” Kellie says. “I told you the chances that you’d find him were slim. Besides, you
don’t want to hook up with your bestie’s brother.”

  “Why not? You want to hook up with mine.” I raise my eyebrows at her and smirk.

  She waves me off. “That’s different. Your brother is a sex—”

  I slap my hand over her mouth and pretend to gag. I don’t want to hear what she thinks about my brother, although hers is pretty good looking too.

  For the next hour, I tell Kellie about my night and Quinn. I’m trying not to get excited, but I’m literally counting the days until I can see him again.

  “Hey, do you know a musician named Liam Page?” I ask before I head to bed.

  “Hell, yes! Liam Page is a DILF.”

  “I’m sorry, a what?”

  “A Dad I’d Like to—” I hold my hand up, letting her know she doesn’t need to finish her sentence. “Why?” she asks.

  “He was playing with Quinn tonight. I didn’t know who he was.”

  Kellie’s eyes go wide. “Just more proof that Quinn isn’t Sofia’s brother.”

  “How so?”

  “Because 4225 West, Liam’s band, is like this massive family. Quinn has two sisters if I remember correctly.” Kellie pulls out her phone and starts tapping again.

  “No, don’t,” I tell her. “I’ll ask him when I see him again. I don’t want to find out his life through Google.”

  “Suit yourself,” she says.

  By the time Kellie and I are done gabbing, the sun is rising and we’re heading to bed. The moment my head hits the pillow, my phone rings. I’m tempted to not answer it, but I have to keep up the charade.

  Susannah’s name, coupled with a picture of us from high school, is on my screen. “Hey,” I say, trying to stifle a yawn.

  “Hey, right back. I have news!”

  I sit up and rest against the headboard. “What is it?”

  “TANNER AND I ARE GETTING MARRIED!” she screams into the phone.

  “What? How? When? Oh, my God, Susie, this is the best news ever!” Tanner and Susannah started dating in high school. They had a pregnancy scare our senior year and a lot of us thought they’d break up after that, but it brought them closer together.

  “You have to be my maid of honor, Eleanora.”

  “Yes, of course. Just tell me when and I’m there.”

  “Tanner is going to join the Army at the end of the summer, so we’ll do it before he leaves for basic training.”

  “Oh, wow. The Army huh?”

  Susannah sighs. “Yeah, but I’m happy with his decision. It’ll be good for us and he really doesn’t like working for his daddy. So, you’ll be home, right?”

  “Yep, I’ll be home for my mama’s party. You know I can’t miss it.”

  “I can’t wait to see you. We’re going to have a blast planning my wedding.”

  “And mine after,” I hedge.

  “Oh,” Susannah pauses.

  “What?”

  “Tanner says I shouldn’t say anything, but you’re like my sister and I think you should know.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What did Roy do?”

  “Well… the rumor is that Jessica Williams is pregnant and Roy’s the daddy. They’ve been hanging out while you were away at school. I’m sorry, Eleanora.”

  A huge smile breaks out across my face. “Don’t be sorry. Believe me, everything’s fine. I’m so happy for you. I’ll start looking at some Pinterest boards for ideas.”

  “You’re the best. I love you!”

  “Love you too.”

  We hang up and while I’m tempted to lay back down, I can’t. This information about Roy can’t fester while I’m sleeping. Instead of calling him, I send him a text because I know how much he hates it. Hey, Roy. Jessica Williams is pregnant, huh? Is she becoming the next Roybert Aldridge?

  I don’t even have time to set my phone down because the conversation bubbles pop right up. I imagine him red in the face and his fingers haphazardly typing on the screen he can’t stand.

  Eleanora don’t be foolish. If you were home, none of this would be an issue.

  Well, I’m not home, and we’re done.

  I shut off my phone, so his reply won’t wake me up. I have nothing more to say to him. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll call my dad, but whatever. My dad can’t honestly expect me to marry someone who is having a baby with another woman.

  17

  Quinn

  The lack of sleep I’m experiencing could easily be chalked up to the stress and pressure I’m feeling from my family and now Dana about joining the band. The nameless band that doesn’t really exist, and apparently won’t if I’m not a member, which I find to be utterly ridiculous. The members they’ve already added will make a nice ensemble regardless of whether I’m there or not.

  Except my lack of sleep isn’t about the band, it’s about Nola. I can’t seem to get her off my mind and each time I close my eyes, she’s there, and I’m with her. My vivid imagination played out scenarios where we were together, as a couple, doing all the things my sisters do with their significant others. I even pictured Nola meeting my parents and my mother falling madly in love with her, which is completely nuts since I barely know the woman myself. And yet, every thought I have is about her. From the way she smiles to the way she tilts her head when she’s trying to flirt, to how she was so nervous to hold onto me while I was driving her home. That was my biggest mistake earlier this morning. I should’ve reached for her hands and pulled her to my back, but fear held me back. It’s always fear, crippling me when I least expect it.

  I think about calling Noah, but Peyton will be there, and the last thing I want is for him to have to keep secrets from her. They’re about to start life as a married couple, and while he’s my best friend, his relationship with Peyton supersedes my girl drama. Although, it’s unfair of me to say what’s going on with Nola and I is drama, especially since we’ve spent hardly any time together and barely know each other.

  Maybe she’s a complication, or maybe my mind needs to shut up and stop trying to label the crush I have as an issue and just go with the flow. It seems more plausible and adult-like, in my opinion, but what the hell do I know? I’ve never felt this way. I’ve never had the urge to see someone almost immediately after leaving them, and I’ve certainly never driven back to a place to pick someone up just to give them a ride home. That was so out of character for me.

  When I got home last night, I paced. I had asked Nola what time she got off, with the intent of staying at the Bean Song until she was done, however getting that close to her, smelling her sweet perfume, and touching her just about did me in. I had to leave. I had to escape the walls that were closing in.

  I hate having this anxiety about dating, about the band, about life. It seems that any time I want to make a change, the pressure to be someone I’m not or the feeling of dread I get thinking that Alicia is lurking around the corner, weighs so heavily on me that I give in and give up. It’s not how I was raised, and it’s definitely not how my family or sisters are. Up until I moved to California, I’d never been plagued with the need to feel isolated, locked away so no one, especially the woman who gave me up, can find me.

  None of this makes sense since I’m willing to pour my heart and soul into a performance every weekend. Granted, it’s usually the same people every time and much like my father, I’ve taken to hiding behind my beanie or ball cap. It gives an odd sense of security, yet it works. I know my mom hates it though. You’d think by now she’d be used to the guys in her life wearing beanies.

  I have to make a change. What that is, I don’t know. It’s easy to say I’m going to put myself out there more with Nola, but how? Do I ask her out? Do I drive by her apartment hoping she’ll be outside? Do I wait until Friday and talk to her before or after I go on stage? I need answers and there isn’t anyone to guide me, except my sisters and no. Just no.

  Speaking of sisters, I’m due to meet Elle across town and I have yet to leave. I know what it’s about; her band. After my meeting with Dana, I kn
ew Elle would call and make a last-ditch effort plea to get me to come in. Thing is, if she’d stop asking, I might consider it, but everyone keeps throwing it in my face and not giving me time to think. I want time to process the expectations before I make my decision. For some, this is easy. For me, it’s downright dreadful. It’s not that I don’t want to play, I do. And Liam gave me a glimpse of what it’s like to have the constant family companionship that comes with a band. It’s just everything else, things I experienced growing up with 4225 West. Granted, I don’t think my sister will pull any Sam Marino type shit, but record labels are known for being shady.

  Then there are the tours, the gigs, recording sessions, and rehearsals. Here I am, thinking of asking the cute little waitress out because I really want to get to know her, and contemplating joining a band. I must be freaking crazy. No one in their right mind would want to get involved with someone like me, not with all of this on my plate. I won’t even get into the rabid fans. Still, I’m on my way to see my sister, to save face with my family because the last thing I want is for her to go running to our parents again. She’s a brat, but I love her.

  Unlucky for me, traffic is light. This is a complete rarity for Los Angeles at any time of the day. 4225 West has designated space at one of the local studios and my dad has given Elle an office for her to conduct her business. This band, the one she’s creating, isn’t her first act. She’s already signed two other solo acts and has landed them pretty decent deals. However, this band would be her biggest venture yet. Something tells me this will be a cakewalk for her.

  Elle is sitting behind a metal desk when I walk in. She looks up and pulls the glasses she’s wearing off her face.

  “Since when do you need specs?” I ask, taking the seat in front of her desk.