Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story)

by Lisa Loomis

  Keri started the car. She leaned over and gave my knee a squeeze as I stared out the window. I could hear the base from the band still thumping in the parking lot.

  “She’s slept with them all,” she said.

  “Who? The band?”

  I pictured the guys. She didn’t say anything.

  “No, shit, the true meaning of sharing. Fucking slut,” I said and Keri laughed.

  Gayle was surprised when I showed up.

  “Didn’t expect you back,” she said half asleep as I crawled into the other bed.

  “Go back to sleep, sorry I woke you,” I said.

  “I wasn’t asleep. Not too easy to sleep in these casts.”

  I lay in bed, hoping he would be upset that I left. I hoped even more that he would go home alone; I had my doubts. I curled toward the wall and felt the tears come.

  In the morning, I told Gayle what happened. I knew she wanted to say told you so, but she didn’t. Mathew called Gayle’s house for three days before I’d take his call. Poor Jane tried to make nice excuses to him as to why I couldn’t come to the phone. He called Keri and asked her to ask me to call him. I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to forgive him. I hadn’t had much time with Mathew and I felt like the time I’d had was compromised by another girl. I couldn’t stop thinking about last summer; I wanted that Mathew.

  “Maybe I’m being too hard on him,” I pondered to Gayle.

  “Not,” she fired back.

  Gayle didn’t sugarcoat it about Mathew. She’d seen our relationship up close and personal.

  “Morgan, I’m coming to pick you up,” he said when I took his call.

  “Pick me up and what?”

  “God damn it, Morgan, I want to see you. We can figure out the what after that.”

  I wanted to see him too.

  “Come get me,” I relented.

  Mathew drove me to the park by my old elementary school. The eight-track player blasting out Led Zeppelin’s "Good Times, Bad Times". “In the days of my youth, I was told what it was to be a man.” Mathew had taught me to listen to the words. I couldn’t listen to a song anymore without trying to figure out the story. I felt like this story was too close to ours, good times, bad times.

  When he shut the car off, I got out, walked over to the swings, and sat down on one. He followed, taking the swing next to me. I’d been silent since he picked me up. He reached out and took hold of the chain on my swing and pulled me to him. I looked into his eyes. Since I’d left the Apollo I’d tried to identify my feelings, mad, sad, frustrated, none were really the right word. Mathew hadn’t promised anything. I hadn’t even asked him to, so how could I be anything really; except maybe disappointed he wasn’t behaving the way I wanted.

  “You’re not sorry, so please don’t say that. I know there are no promises, Mathew,” I paused. “I can live with that. What I can’t live with is you throwing it in my face. Don’t make me feel foolish. If you don’t want to be with me, don’t ask me.”

  He dropped his head back slightly, his blonde hair falling behind him, the sun catching its gold color.

  “I want to be with you. Morgan, you’re upset over nothing. You ran off over nothing,” he said.

  “Nothing? Do you really believe that?” I asked, my voice rising.

  He grabbed the other chain, rotating the swing so that I was face to face with him. I kicked at the sand, watching my foot to avoid looking at him.

  “Mathew, it wasn’t nothing. The first night I’m with you in a year, you don’t come to bed till three, while that girl—”

  “Brook.”

  “While Brook is around, fawning over you. Then, oh-here-we-go-again, she’s on your lap back stage. Then she kisses you, and you fucking pull her on stage,” I said. “If this is what I have to watch to be around the band and you, I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel like I’m with you, when I’m not.”

  He listened, swinging me back and forth into him with small movements, our knees gently rubbing each other’s. The sun felt warm on my face.

  “Try to remember that, would you?” I finished.

  He stopped swinging me. He took my hand, tugged me out of the swing, and we walked over to sit on the grass. He pushed me onto my back softly. The sky was blue, like his eyes. He lay down next to me on his side, propped on his elbow. He picked a blade of grass and ran it around my lips.

  “That tickles, you know?”

  “Hmm,” he murmured.

  I pulled the grass out of his fingers and took his fingers and put them in my mouth. I sucked on them, running my tongue around them, pushing them in and out of my mouth. Reminding him of sensations he’d felt on another part of his body. He closed his eyes.

  “Mammoth,” he said, surprisingly recalling the first time I had done this. “I was shocked and excited. I didn’t know you knew about those things. Didn’t we get interrupted?”

  I pulled his fingers out and kissed the tips.

  “I knew about things. You didn’t want the things, back then. I think that was like the hundredth missed opportunity with me,” I said, pulling his face down to mine.

  Chapter 33

  “Morgan, party next Saturday. Will you come with me?” he asked. “Band’s going to play.”

  I didn’t want a repeat of the Apollo, the band, the groupies, the girls. The scene was still fresh in my mind.

  “Am I with you or just invited?” I asked.

  “Coming with me,” he said.

  “What time you picking me up?” I asked.

  “It starts early. I’ll come get you at noon,” he said.

  Even with his answer I still had my doubts. I knew there was a certain element to the band playing that was beyond his control, however he could seize it or not.

  “I’m not sure if you are brave or stupid,” Gayle said.

  “Must be stupid; something about him makes me that way. You know that.”

  Gayle was quiet for a long time. Her forehead slightly wrinkled, I could tell she was thinking.

  “Remember that time with the three of us?”

  “No, Gayle, I don’t remember,” I said sarcastically.

  “When you excused yourself to make new drinks, I knew you wanted the subject changed. Mathew wasn’t dropping it. ‘Come on, Gayle’ he dared. ‘If you say yes, she’ll go’ he said. I didn’t tell you then about that night, but he was determined. He wasn’t teasing like you thought. He knew my loyalty was to you, and he was playing it. Challenging me,” she said recalling.

  I leaned back in the chair listening. She was on the couch in the family room, one of her more comfortable spots.

  “I wanted to call him on it, force his hand. I decided to tell him yes knowing you wouldn’t agree to it. I was absolutely sure you wouldn’t agree to it, not with your Mathew; I had you so wrong. I thought you would be pissed at him for suggesting it and pissed at me for saying yes. I thought you would blow up. When you said yes, I was stunned. I felt stuck. I thought he would back down, and when he didn’t, I had to go, because you’d agreed.”

  Hearing her explain it that way made me feel like I’d been so desperate and naïve. Which in reality I’d been both of.

  “Gayle, I feel bad, embarrassed even,” I said.

  “Don’t,” she said waving her good hand. “It ended up being fun.”

  I laughed.

  “We were pretty damn loaded, even you. I thought he wouldn’t go through with it. I mean, who really does that shit? I really did think he was teasing,” I said.

  “Ah, time to get the virgin thing out of the way anyway,” she said.

  “No way?”

  My expression must have been funny because Gayle started to laugh and then I joined in, and the two of us almost busted a gut laughing. Jane opened the door and looked in.

  “Are you two okay?” she asked smiling.

  Gayle wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Yeah, Mom. Morgan’s just cracking me up is all.”

  I could tell by Jane’s expression that she
was delighted to hear Gayle laughing. She retreated and shut the door.

  “Ah, funny night,” Gayle sighed.

  “When I went back to Mathew that morning, I told him to leave you out of it, forever. I told him not to jump on the ego train, as there was only one girl in the room who really wanted him. That if we weren’t high, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “That was part of it, but I don’t know,” she paused, smiling. “The things we do for our best friends.”

  “Good thing I didn’t wake up hating you for sleeping with him,” I said.

  “Remember. Sharing,” she said.

  “Right, one of Mathew’s better traits.”

  Gayle was getting better physically and emotionally. Jane was glad that I had come. Despite her concerns about Gayle’s reaction, it turned out to be a good thing. I truly felt like I was helping, if nothing other than amusing her with my antics with Mathew. A Mathew who was picking me up that Friday afternoon.

  “If he’s called Brook off, I won’t be home tonight.”

  Gayle chuckled as she inspected my appearance.

  “I won’t wait up,” she said. “You look fabulous by the way.”

  I did a little spin in her room.

  “If Mathew isn’t proud to be with you, he’s truly an idiot. Oh, oops, I already think that.”

  I frowned at her.

  “Gayle, you don’t think he’s an idiot. You like him.”

  “I like him fine. Just not where you are concerned.”

  I’d put on a short jean skirt with a sheer, white pattern-on-pattern spandex shirt. The skirt high, the top cut low.

  “Boobs look good?” I asked her.

  “Great,” she laughed. “Remember when you thought they were never going to grow?”

  I looked down at my boobs. I certainly did remember that.

  “They took their sweet time,” I said, smiling.

  Mathew confirmed Gayle’s assessment when I got in his car.

  “Kid, looking good,” he said, kissing me.

  When we got to the party, outside the house in his car, he kissed me again.

  “Ready to party,” he said, taking my hand.

  There were a few people in the house, but most were out back. It was a big yard and a beautiful warm summer day. There was a keg on one side of the patio. I followed Mathew over, and he poured us both a beer.

  “Hey, Bob,” Mathew said as Bob, the drummer, walked up and joined us.

  “Mathew, we’ve got most everything set up,” I heard him say.

  I tuned them out as I looked around the party, the sound of people having fun filling my ears. I knew the band members, but few others. I recognized some of the groupies. The smell of pot was prevalent. Mushrooms, acid, and cocaine could no doubt be had for the asking. I kept close to Mathew for a while, but it wasn’t easy as he knew everyone. He drifted back and forth to me between sets and socializing. I could tell the guys were more into partying today than playing. I landed in a group that was recounting episodes from different gigs. Some of the stories were very entertaining.

  “You having a good time?”

  I looked up to see Sean as he sat down next to me.

  “I actually am for not knowing very many people,” I said.

  He asked me about San Diego and how I liked it there. He had been there once a long time ago on a family vacation. He remembered the roller coaster at Pacific Beach. He caught me up on the band. Places they had played, upcoming gigs, hopes for their future. It struck me as odd suddenly that Mathew and I never talked about that kind of stuff. Sean told me he was currently broken up with his girlfriend, and he was bummed about it. I wondered if the groupie’s had been too much for her too.

  “You want to do a line?” he asked.

  “Love to,” I said.

  I followed Sean to the bathroom where he pulled out a mirror from under the cabinet. He took a small paper packet out of his wallet, opened it carefully, and dumped some cocaine onto the mirror. He got out a razor blade and chopped up the white chunks, the razor tapping against the glass. I watched silently as he drew out four fat lines with the blade. He rolled up a dollar bill and handed it to me. I’d seen this whole sequence with Keri, with Mathew, with Mathew’s friends; cocaine had become increasingly popular.

  “Here you go,” he said backing from the counter and the mirror.

  I bent down and held one side of my nose closed while I snorted one line and then switched nostrils and snorted the other. He did the same. I sucked air in through my nostrils pulling the powder higher.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  We worked our way back outside and filled our beers at the keg. We were standing there talking when I spotted Mathew across the yard with a group of girls. I observed him as Sean and I talked. I could tell he was being flirty, typical Mathew. A few people came to refill beers, and Sean moved onto a new conversation. I listened, watching the scene across the yard. There was a tall brunette who kept running her hand down Mathew’s arm as she talked. Bob and his new girlfriend walked up to the keg and blocked my view.

  “Morgan, this is Kara, my girlfriend,” Bob said, introducing her.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “I understand you’re from San Diego. I love that place,” she said.

  I talked with Kara for a few minutes before she and Bob moved off. I looked for Mathew and didn’t see him. Sean motioned with his head toward the house, and we headed back to the bathroom together. Sean was taller than Mathew with long, dark brown hair, and hazel eyes with long dark eyelashes. As I watched him go through the routine again, I realized that he reminded me of Rick Springfield. I could see why the girls found him attractive. Keri’s words rang in my head about blonde Brook: she’s had them all. I almost laughed. Thank god, I hadn’t seen her today. When Sean and I stepped out back again, I looked for Mathew and felt my breath catch.

  “What?” Sean asked, following my gaze across the yard.

  I could feel my blood rising. It kept rising until it was hard to breathe, hard to think. When Sean saw that Mathew was sitting, kissing the brunette, he suggested he refill my beer. I watched to make absolutely sure it was him and then turned away. It’s nothing resounded like a broken record in my head.

  I was offered a joint, which I accepted. I took a hit and then another before I passed it on. Make a scene or get loaded; I decided loaded was better.

  “Sean, can we do another line?” I asked, hanging on his arm.

  We certainly didn’t need another, but I wanted out, away, to forget about what I’d just seen, nothing.

  “Let’s do it,” he said, putting his arm across my shoulders, leading me towards the house.

  Sean locked the bathroom door and I sat down on the edge of the tub and put my chin in my hands.

  “Do you know Brook?” I asked.

  Sean looked up from cutting the coke.

  “Groupie Brook?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered as he handed me the rolled bill.

  I took it from him and stood up. The blood rushed to my head and feeling unstable, I took a hold of his arm as I bent down to snort my lines.

  “I know her. She follows us around pretty closely.”

  I handed him the bill.

  “Are she and Mathew…?”

  I let the words fall. First Brook, now a new one. I couldn’t ask about the brunette; I didn’t even know her name.

  “What? Dating?” he shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “Are they still fucking?” I asked.

  Sean was a little taken aback. He stared into my eyes and then grinned at me.

  “No. I think that was just a one-nighter.”

  “She sure hangs on him,” I said.

  I wanted to ask him if he’d had a good time with her, but thought better of it. He finished his lines and put the bill back in his wallet, the mirror on the back of the toilet. I put my hands on his shoulders. He stood still, watching me. I leaned in and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate in returning my kiss. He le
aned against the sink counter, his legs spread slightly, pulling me in between them. We made out like that for a long time before he pulled back. His eyes were half closed and sexy.

  “That was unexpected,” he said, his arms still partially around me. “I thought you and Mathew…”

  “Screw Mathew,” I said, cutting him off. “You saw what I saw. We’re friends.”

  Chapter 34

  I was angry and my anger was playing out in a potentially disastrous way. I knew I was playing with fire, but couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “I don’t want to get in the middle of something,” Sean said.

  “You’re not,” I said, kissing him again.

  He was a really good kisser, almost as good as Mathew I thought and stopped myself. Someone knocked on the door, and we moved into the hallway, still talking. I saw Mathew coming down the hall behind Sean. Sean’s height was blocking me, so he was probably coming to use the restroom. I reached up, locking my arms around Sean’s neck, leaning into him for another round of kissing.

  “Umm,” I moaned softly.

  Sean rested his hands on my hips. It took Mathew getting right up on us to realize it was me. I saw him do a double take. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Sean.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Mathew asked.

  I could tell by his tone he was pissed. Mathew looked from me to Sean and back again.

  “What the hell are you doing, Morgan?” he asked, his voice tight and controlled.

  “I’m having fun. What are you doing?” I threw out lightly.

  “Shit,” Sean said, realizing he was in the middle of something. “Matt, I wasn’t trying to move in. She said you were only friends.”

  I felt bad for Sean. I looked from Sean to Mathew and his eyes narrowed at me, warning. I wanted to scream at him.

  “It’s cool, Sean. Morgan, let’s go,” he said, pointing down the hall.

  “I don’t want to go,” I protested, running my hand down Sean’s arm.

  Mathew put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed as Sean backed away slightly.