Tomorrow is Saturday and we’re meeting up for an early dinner before I have to work my bar shift. Maybe we’ll talk then and I can see where she’s at; how she might be feeling about us. Yeah. I think it might be time to take things further, before it’s too late and someone else who isn’t too chicken-shit to pull the trigger snatches the light in my world away. Satisfied with this decision, I turn myself over to the music, giving it all I’ve got.
Mayzie
It’s been five weeks since we met, three since I fell asleep on Jack at my house, two since I was at his place and met his sister. Yes, I’m cataloging all this shit like a neurotic freak because I’m trying to make sense of the fact that we’ve been acting like we’re dating without actually dating for several weeks now. Over this time, I’ve become more taken, infatuated and smitten with this man. Not to mention the fact that I’m overflowing with lust at the way he looks, smells, moves, talks… I’m seriously afraid Johnny Rocket’s about to go on strike. I’ve lost my mind. It’s gone. Because I’m sitting here, allowing this thing to continue. Why? Because I still don’t want it to stop. I try to heed Annie’s advice every day, to enjoy my time with him but not read into it or make any decisions that depend on him or what we’re doing, to keep doing my thing like I would with or without him in the picture.
But I’m failing. I can’t seem to even entertain the idea of meeting other guys, and I tend to keep my afternoons open since that’s when Jack and I tend to meet up the most. I’m spending time with the guy I’ve been falling for a little more every day since I met him, letting it go on with no kissing and barely any touching. When we do touch, it’s playful, so I don’t count it. I only count the occasional hug he gives me, and those usually only happen if we haven’t seen each other for a few days.
We’re in Jimmy’s Pub at the edge of Old Town, laughing as always as we talk about our day, quote our favorite movies, and find stuff out about each other we didn’t know yet, like places we want to travel to, first concerts, embarrassing moments, etc. We’re in a semi-circle booth, and I notice he’s sitting a little closer to me than usual, but I try not to make anything of it, because, hello, five weeks… But he occasionally rests his arm on the back of the seat behind me, and his body is turned towards me.
It’s a Saturday, and we’re having kind of an early dinner because Jack has to work at the bar at six, and we haven’t gotten a chance to meet up this week. We’re having a good time for the most part. There are a couple of breaks in conversation where Jack seems quiet. I also notice a couple of chicks at the bar that look like they got their clothes at Justice, that keep swiveling their heads our way. They don’t seem to take any notice of me, but are being blatantly obvious that they are scoping out Jack. I can’t blame them, I suppose. He’s hot. He’s got the bad boy look down, especially today, with the pensive look on his face. The gray t-shirt that shows off his guns, and the cargo shorts don’t hurt either. It’s reached the hot and muggy part of June, so I’m in cut-off shorts myself, with a lightweight t-shirt.
“Everything okay with you?” I ask, as he pays the tab. I know him well enough that he isn’t himself right now. He looks up with mild surprise, but tries to hide it with a lopsided smile.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” I say, trying to be casual and popping a fry in my mouth, glancing again at the girls at the bar. They actually have their bodies turned in our direction. I really hope that whatever’s going on with Jack has nothing to do with their presence. If he knows them, I might pick up my fork and stab myself in the face with it, just to get out of the situation.
“Oh…” he shrugs and looks off into space for a second. “I guess I do a little bit, but uh… ” More shrugging and fidgeting. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Okay,” I say, the uncertainty thick in my voice as we slide out of the booth. Jack and I head out of Jimmy’s and on to the street. He surprises me by taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine as we walk. The uneasiness dissipates and my heart beats hard. He’s never done that before. When we reach my car, he leans one arm against it, not letting go of my hand. I rest back against the car, loving that we both seem to want to take a moment before I drive off.
“So, I do want to ask you something,” Jack says, bringing our hands up to his lips and kissing my knuckles. He closes his eyes as he does so, making the gesture so sweet it makes me inwardly shiver.
“Okay…” I say, smiling warmly as I watch him. And that’s the moment Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Desperate walk up. Did they follow us out of the bar?
“Hiyeeeee,” the redhead says, eyes on Jack, forcing herself not to notice me. If she pretends hard enough, I’m not really there, right? You keep doing you, Pippi. “You’re in Turn it Up, right? You’re the singer.”
“Uh, yeah, Hi,” Jack says. I can tell he feels on the spot and isn’t quite sure how to respond to this ambush.
“See, Maddie, I told you!”
“Thanks for saying, ‘hi’,” Jack says, trying to be polite. They do seem to be appreciative fans after all. Even if they don’t appear to love themselves. “But, I’m a little busy right –,” but he can’t get a sentence out before the blonde chimes in.
“OH.MY.GOD! We. Like, love you guys!” Oh. My. God. Like, somebody, please, smack her.
“Thanks,” Jack humors her. “I really appreciate that. If you ladies don’t mind though, I’m kind of in the middle of -,” He’s cut off again.
“We totally caught your show last night. You were AH-mazing!” Can someone get me a bucket? I think I’m going to-wait, what? I look to Jack who briefly closes his eyes. As for me, I try to recover my facial expression which probably looked like I’d been smacked in the face. It felt like I had. I do my best to look indifferent to the Floozy Two, but I’m pretty sure Jack caught my reaction.
“Okay, ladies, thank you,” Jack says, adopting an assertive tone. “I really appreciate you showing support, but we’re trying to have a conversation, so I’m going to have to ask you to go on with your day. I’ll see you at the next one, alright?” Both smiles drop like rocks, and they both give a noncommittal nod before walking off down the street, doing their best not to stomp their stilettos. Seriously? It’s the middle of the afternoon.
He turns back to me, still holding my hand and giving it a squeeze. We never talked about me coming to a show. I was leaving that up to him, but I think I really thought the reason he hadn’t asked was because there hadn’t been any. He never said how often they played, or that they’d had any shows lined up.
“Mayzie,” he starts, but seems to be having a hard time gathering the right words.
“You guys did a show last night?” I ask, looking down at the sidewalk. I’m afraid to look him in the eyes right now, as it might make me lose it. I don’t want him to see that, and my pride won’t let me break down.
“Yeah,” he says, still trying to look for more to say.
“And you didn’t tell me, why? Do you not want me there?”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about it so I could finally hear your music? You talk about it enough, why wouldn’t you want me to see a show?”
“It’s complicated,” he says, checking out the asphalt with me. My head snaps up.
“Really Jack? That is such a cop-out. There’s a reason. How come you didn’t tell me? I seriously don’t get it. Are you afraid I’ll cramp your style?”
“Hell no,” he says, quickly looking back up at me. “Don’t you ever think that!”
“Then… what, Jack? What’s the big deal? Random hoochies that you don’t even know get to see you play, but I don’t and I’m… what am I? I don’t know. I don’t know what this is,” I say slipping my hand out of his and gesturing between us. “But I thought it was something, a friendship maybe? My point is, you’ve been playing shows, doing your favorite thing on this earth, and you don’t want to share it with me. This is
seriously making no sense to me.”
“I don’t know. It’s so hard to explain. But it’s not that I don’t want you to, I swear.”
“How many shows have you played since we met?”
He sighs. “Three. And I’m sorry for not telling you about any of them, I’ve been nervous for you to see me…” he trails off. “I’m just not in a place where I’m ready for you to see that part of my life.”
That stings.
I let out a huge breath and run my hand through my hair. I need to get away from this. “Look, let’s just take a beat, ok? We can talk tomorrow,” I say, opening my car door.
“Mayzie…” he says, scrubbing his hand over his face and through his hair, revealing that he’s uncomfortable and frustrated too.
“I have to go and so do you,” I say, throwing my bag on the passenger seat and climbing in.
He leans down and asks “Will you come by later? I can take a break and we can talk.”
“I have dance tonight,” I say. That’s not true, but it can be. I could definitely go work out some frustration in the studio tonight. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He blows out a breath and gives me a nod before straightening and walking away.
I storm into my house, kicking off my shoes. I immediately grab my phone and pull up the studio’s number. One thing I like to save my pennies for is private studio time. My membership covers all the classes, but to rent one out and have it to yourself costs a little extra. Well, it’s a rainy day in my world. I put the phone on speaker as I quickly let Penny out, and head to my room. Someone answers on the first ring.
“Dance It Out…” Emma says on the other end.
“Hey! Emma, it’s Mayzie.” I’m hoping since it’s Saturday, everyone will be out and not using any studios. “Any of the rooms open tonight?”
“Umm…Yeah. I don’t see any booked for tonight. Why? Are you coming in?”
“Yes,” I say, grabbing a hair tie and yanking my hair up and tying it in a knot.
“Okay, Studio One is all yours when you get here.”
“Perfect. Thanks babe,” I say, and end the call. I tug off my shirt and bra, pulling a sports bra out of my drawer and wrestling it on. I throw a loose t-shirt over my head and throw on some yoga pants. I toss a water bottle, dance shorts and slip socks in my duffle, and walk through the house to drop it by the front door. I take a moment to sit on my couch with my head in my hands.
I’m not sure what’s going on with Jack and me, but I thought we were at least close. Our relationship, for the most part has been like a friendship, but there’s a sense of intimacy to it. We’ve never kissed or held each other or any of the other things couples do, but the way he looks at me… I feel like he sees me as something different. There is a sense of romance to the way he treats me. There has been an occasional touch, a little flirting here and there, and he calls and texts me like a boyfriend would. We’re together almost every day. At the very least, we’re friends. He tells me things and we support each other. There should be no reason for him to not want me at his shows, supporting him. I just don’t get why he would shut me out like this. I just know it hurts. It’s a horrible combination of disappointment and embarrassment.
I don’t like feeling this way. No one does, but when I feel this way, so much frustration comes with it. I have to do something with myself or I’ll lose my mind. Okay… now that I’ve taken a moment to acknowledge my feelings, it’s time to get moving again so I don’t go crazy.
Jack
I’m such a fucking idiot. There are so many thoughts running through my head about how I’ve hurt Mayzie and what the hell I can do to fix it that I’m not even entirely sure how I made it to work. Obviously, I drove home, showered and put on my work clothes, and then drove here, but I barely remember any of it. I do remember trying to call her, leaving a message when she didn’t pick up: “Baby, it’s me. I know you’re upset, but I want to talk about this. Please call me.” My mind is on her and what she’s been to me for the last few weeks. She’s been everything. She’s made me laugh, she’s listened, she’s been supportive, and she’s shared herself in return. She’s turned into some sort of fixture in my life that I didn’t know was missing. I’m totally consumed, thinking about how she must be feeling as I draw beers and pour shots. I’m also trying to figure out just why I’ve been such a fucking coward about playing in front of her. I couldn’t explain it to her because I’m not even completely sure of the reason myself, which is why I stumbled over words and couldn’t form any kind of intelligent response. Because the fact is, there is none. I’m on total autopilot, an hour into my shift, when I hear, “Are you trying to turn that glass back into sand?” Tyler sits down on a stool in front of me.
“What?” I ask, looking up at him.
“I think that glass was dry ten minutes ago, but you’re still rubbing the shit out of it with that towel.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, racking the glass and throwing the towel over my shoulder. “What are you doing here man? It’s your Saturday off.”
He shrugs. “Nothing goin’ on tonight, believe it or not.”
“You’re shitting me,” I say. “No females you need to devote your services to tonight?”
“Nah,” he chuckles. “I think they’re all worn out.”
“Impressive,” I say, as I grab a glass and draw another beer for the guy next to him.
“What about you?” he asks. “How are things going with that little friend of yours? Mayzie, right?”
“Right,” I say, although friend isn’t the right word. “And things are not great at the moment.”
“Uh oh, what’s going on? She getting too clingy? Trust me, I know what that’s like,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“No,” I say resting both hands on the bar, “She’s just upset that she hasn’t seen Turn it Up play yet.”
“Well, that’s kind of on her, isn’t it? She knows when you play, all she has to do is show up.”
“Actually… ” I say, lowering my head so my hair falls in my eyes. “I’ve never let her know when we have a show. When we’ve played, I haven’t told her about it at all.” I hear silence in response, and when a few seconds pass, I finally look up again so I can gauge Tyler’s reaction. He’s staring at me with a deadpan expression, his mouth slightly open. And it’s not only his attention I have. The patron whose beer I just refilled is staring at me with considerable interest. Finally, Tyler speaks.
“And the reason you don’t want her to see you play is…” he motions for me to finish his sentence.
“I don’t even have a good one. I’ve let her into most of my life, and I just feel like once her and my music come together,” I lock my fingers to give a visual. “That’s it. I’m done. My whole life has been my music, and now she’s here, and I have this weird feeling that when both these things coexist in my life…”
“You’ll have to face the fact that she’s it. She’s the one for you,” Tyler finishes for me. I drop my head again as the realization of what he said rolls over me. He hit the nail on the head, I think. I’ve been keeping these two great things in my life separate over some stupid fear that that would mean my life has everything it needs, and the next step would be to continue forward with this amazing person. But it’s not just that.
“I’m also afraid of what she’ll think of it. Our music. She’ll like it, sure. But what if she doesn’t love it?
I’m afraid of how that would make me feel, man.”
“Have you really thought about that? Like really given it some thought and really pictured her not loving your music? Because if you’ve thought through a scenario that ends with her not completely swooning over your music, I think you’re full of shit.” I don’t answer because that’s the thing. I don’t know. Whenever I think of it, I can never seem to see how it ends up.
“So, what I’m hearing,” Tyler continues, “is that this stupid fear of letting the two great things in your life come full circle is the only thing making you
act like a fuckin’ pussy.” My eyes quickly dart to the guy next to him, to see him still watching our exchange like he’s at a damn tennis match. I try not to acknowledge him and stay silent, refusing to let Tyler know he’s right. The noise in the bar lifts a little, and I look up to see more people flooding in.
“Fuck,” I say. Time to really get to work and it’s fucking hard right now because I can’t get my head in the game. “I can’t deal with this shit tonight,” I say, taking a step back to watch the wave of customers taking their seats. Tyler looks like he’s at war with himself all of a sudden. “Tyler, you ok?” I prod. “What’s going on man?” He finally lets out a breath, and stands up abruptly.
“Damnit, Jack. Close out your fuckin’ tabs,” he says, looking like he’s making to leave.
“What are you talking about, where are you going?” I ask, completely confused, wondering what the hell he’s doing.
“I’m going to get my uniform out of my car. Go talk to Mayzie so you can quit acting like a jackass and get back to your life. I’ve got your shift.” I’m still confused and taken aback by what he’s doing, but at the same time, I’m feeling a small sense of relief. Not complete relief as things are still sideways with Mayzie, but knowing I don’t have to play nice for customers and that I can actually go and at least try to fix things with her makes me feel marginally better. Tyler comes back about ten minutes later. I don’t know what to say to him.
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask.
“If it helps you get your head out of your ass, then yes. And don’t worry about it. Working a Saturday night might get a few more ladies on my dance card.”
“Thanks man.” I give him a look of gratitude as I walk around the end of the bar and head towards the back entrance.
Mayzie
I storm into Dance It Out, trying to keep my face neutral enough to give Emma a pleasant smile when I get up to the desk. She appears to be the only one here.
See Her (Turn it Up Book 1) Page 9