Saved by the Celebutante

by Kirsty McManus

  “You’re the one who said I needed to embrace the festival. This is me embracing.”

  His eyes twinkle. “Okay then.”

  Matt strides over and wraps Veronica’s arm around his neck. “Come on. I’ll help you walk until we find an easier way to get you around.”

  I head towards the nearest tent and peer inside. It’s an in-session yoga class, so I leave them be. The next tent has a bunch of guys all smoking from a hookah, so I don’t bother them either. They’re probably Veronica’s old crew anyway. It takes a few more misses before I score two hits in a row. The first is a tent containing a college football team who all happen to be fans of the band and happily agree to help out. And the second tent has half a dozen young women dressed up in Harajuku fashion with brightly colored dresses and pink hair. They are more than willing to provide their crowd directing services for a good cause, especially when I promise they can meet the band afterwards.

  All I have to do now is draw up some signage. I borrow a sketchpad, some tape and a thick black marker from a tent offering art classes and proceed to make up ten flyers. I start at the old stage and stick one up in the most obvious place I can find before fastening the rest on tents at various intervals along the path to the new stage. I then hurry back to the old stage and join my Harajuku girl helpers, who are already directing early arrivals to the new location.

  A helicopter flies overhead and lands out on the empty plains. It looks like the band has arrived.

  After making sure the crowd is under control, I track down Veronica to see how she’s getting on. She is now sitting in a wheelchair, ordering people around and looking a lot more confident than when I first saw her.

  “You’re a goddamn angel,” she says, seeing me approach. “The football guys have done a better job than my own crew ever did. I had to borrow some sound guys from one of the other acts, but so far everything is coming together effortlessly. We’re even going to look at incorporating those girls you’ve got helping us into the new video because it will save us having to hire other talent later.”

  “Oh, good. I think they’re big fans so I’m sure they’ll love that.”

  “I didn’t even get your name.”

  “Chrissie.”

  “Well, Chrissie, you’ve certainly earned your meet-and-greet.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t for me. It was for all the volunteers. I know you have to fly out this afternoon, but if you can just allow fifteen minutes after the encore, they would really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, sure. But what about you? Don’t you want anything? Money? Drugs? Some alone time with Davey?”

  I can’t tell if she’s joking. “Nah. The only thing I do need is a lift out of here, but I’m waiting to hear where my van is before I know where to actually go.”

  She looks at me with what I hope is a combination of appreciation and respect. “Your experience shows. If you need a reference down the track, please give my name.” She produces a business card from her pocket and hands it to me.

  “Thanks, Veronica. Hey, do you know where Matt went?”

  “He was helping the crew earlier but I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, if you don’t need me anymore, I might go and tell the volunteers to meet you near the side of the stage after the show.”

  “Sure, honey…hey, you know you’re welcome to attend the meet-and-greet too if you like.”

  “I might take you up on that. Thank you.”

  For a split second I contemplate trying to find Matt so we can watch the show together, but then I decide I’m more than happy to enjoy the concert on my own. There will be plenty of time to see him later.

  For the first time ever, I’m not falling all over myself to chase a man.

  And it feels good.

  THIRTY-ONE

  When I finally get back to the camper two hours later, both Oli and Matt are there, sitting at the picnic table and drinking bottles of water.

  “Hey, Bath House Buddy,” Oli says by way of greeting.

  Matt almost chokes on his mouthful of water. “What?”

  I glare at Oli, but he just winks at me.

  “Chrissie and I visited the bath house this morning. You totally missed out, bro.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Well, if you’re going to just disappear without telling anyone, you can’t expect us to wait around for you,” Oli points out.

  I agree, especially because he’s done it twice now, but I don’t say anything.

  Matt looks as if he’s about to storm off inside the camper again, so I quickly change the subject.

  “I had a nice afternoon,” I tell them. “Did either of you check out The Revelations’ set? It was amazing!”

  Oli shakes his head. “I went to that tantric workshop I was telling you about, and then I spent the afternoon in the Love Zone trying out my new found knowledge.”

  Matt rolls his eyes. “I see you’re really making the most of your time here.”

  “Well, what did you do? You’re so damn grumpy and secretive all the time. Did you just wander around moping or something?”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I did,” he says sarcastically.

  Oli stands up. “Well, I’m recharged, so I’m heading back to the Love Zone. See you guys later.” He looks at both of us. “And if you’re going to fuck, please do it somewhere other than the bed in the camper. Although, maybe not the Love Zone. No offense Chrissie, but I don’t want to see my brother’s naked ass any more than necessary.”

  I blush. Matt shoots him a death stare. “Thanks, Oli. I think you need to go and attend a workshop on how not to be a complete dick.”

  Oli gives him the finger and walks off, whistling to himself.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Matt says. “I think the freedom has gone to his head. It’s funny how some people react when they don’t have the constraints of society to tell them how to behave.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve seen Lord of the Flies.”

  “Was there anything you wanted to do tonight? You’re not hanging out with the band crew or anything?”

  I hide a smile. His cool and detached act is so transparent. It seems to be okay for him to leave me hanging, but as soon as it’s the other way round, he can’t handle it. “Uh, no. I did find a cool bar over near the tower, though. You want to check it out?”

  “Sure.”

  “So what did you get up to this afternoon?” I ask casually.

  “Oh, not much.” He doesn’t seem to understand what I’m getting at, so I let it go. For now.

  We arrive at a gangster style tent, complete with wooden booths and mood lighting. We go in and sit on stools at an impossibly long bar. There is a shelf full of liquor behind it, and the bartenders are dressed up in fancy clothes with suspenders and fedoras.

  “I love how everyone really goes the extra mile here,” I say. “For example, how much effort would it have taken to bring this bar all the way to the middle of the desert? And those pyramids outside! And the tower! All for just a few days.”

  “Have you ever seen Tibetan monks make a sand mandala? It takes them weeks to create it, yet they dismantle it in seconds. They don’t think it’s pointless. To them, it’s a lesson in appreciating the transient nature of life.”

  I grin. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Talk about something as pretentious as the transient nature of life and not sound like a pretentious jerk.”

  He laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

  “You should.” I pick up a nearby menu and scan the drink list. “How about we order something for each other?”

  “You’re in a playful mood this evening.”

  “Am I?” I stop to think and realize I am. How funny. I do feel lighter than I have in a while.

  “It’s a good thing,” he says quickly.

  “So what do you say?”

  “Okay, I’m going to get you the Long Des
ert Ice Tea.”

  “Of course you are. In that case I’m getting you the Hot Green Chocolate.”

  “That sounds disgusting.” He finds the cocktail on the menu and pulls a face. “It’s just hot chocolate and chartreuse.”

  “Don’t forget the chili pepper garnish.”

  “Bleugh. You’re sharing it with me, then.”

  “Deal.”

  We place our orders and I watch as the bartender mixes our drinks. “I feel weird not paying with money. Maybe we should offer to help clean up afterwards or something.”

  “Whatever you want to do, Chrissie. Remember, there are no rules.”

  I chuckle. “You sound like Kenickie in Grease when he’s about to do the drag race with Danny.”

  “Or Princess Unikitty in The Lego Movie when they’re in Cloud Cuckoo Land.”

  I break out into hysterics.

  “You’re comparing yourself to someone called Princess Unikitty? How unmanly of you.”

  “But think about it. Isn’t this festival basically Cloud Cuckoo Land? You know, the constant party, lack of rules and basically being able to do what you want?”

  “I’m sorry but I haven’t had what sounds like the immense pleasure of watching The Lego Movie, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Ah. Well, you’re missing out.”

  “Clearly.”

  The bartender plonks the drinks down in front of us.

  I give him my most genuine smile. “Thank you. You are a lovely human being. If there’s anything I can do to make your life easier while you’re here, please let me know.”

  The bartender laughs. “Thank you, honey. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Matt looks at me like I’m crazy.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I mean, yes, this whole festival is about being part of a community, but you don’t have to go overboard.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Veteran Festival Goer. I thought you just said there were no rules.”

  He holds up his hands in surrender. “My bad.”

  I take a sip of my cocktail. It tastes much like the Long Island version but with a twist of coconut.

  Matt sips his drink and almost chokes.

  “Damn, that’s strong.”

  “Swap?” I ask, sliding his glass over to me.

  He snatches up mine and takes a large gulp, ignoring the straw.

  “Ah. Better.”

  “Are you worried I have cooties or something?”

  He furrows his brow. “Sorry?”

  “You didn’t drink out of the straw.”

  “Believe me, that wasn’t because of cooties.” His tone is so serious, it makes me jittery. I pick up the hot green chocolate and take a sip to distract myself. It is both spicy and ridiculously alcoholic.

  “Whoa. I see what you mean.”

  “So, Chrissie. Tell me about your life. All I know so far is that you are a publicist and you helped out at a shelter on the way to this festival.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you want to share. Where do you live?”

  “San Francisco. You?”

  “Santa Cruz. Hey, we’re practically neighbors!”

  “I guess, if your neighbor lived over an hour away from you. But hang on, then how come you were staying Bridgeport the other night?”

  “Oli lives in LA. I drove down to pick him up.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why were you in Bridgeport?”

  “I borrowed my van from someone in LA.” I take another sip of the green hot chocolate and cough. “I don’t think there’s any correct way to drink something as lethal as this.”

  “We can just share the other one if you like,” he offers.

  “Good idea.”

  We both take turns sipping out of the same glass. Matt makes a point of using the straw each time.

  “Is it normal to feel this drunk on so little alcohol?” I ask.

  “Definitely. Being out in the sun all day and not drinking much water obviously makes you dehydrated. Not to mention the dust. Actually, we should probably get some tequila shots so we can replenish our salt levels.”

  I snort. “Because of course, that is the only way to get salt into our bodies.”

  “It’s the only fun way,” he corrects me.

  “Okay. Bartender!” I call out. “Two tequila shots, pretty please.”

  The bartender obliges. I think he thinks I’m funny.

  Matt pours salt onto his hand and grabs a lime wedge with the other.

  “I propose, in keeping with the sharing theme, we should do each other’s,” Matt says.

  “What do you mean?”

  He holds out his hand. “Here, lick my salt.”

  “Ew. I don’t know why, but that just sounds wrong.”

  “Don’t be silly. Go on.”

  I look at Matt’s hand and then lean down and flick my tongue over the tiny grains of white powder resting on the soft bit of skin between his thumb and forefinger. I sneak a glance up at him and our eyes lock. He holds out the shot glass, which I quickly gulp down. I immediately lean over so he can put the lime wedge in my mouth. I bite into it, watching his face the whole time.

  He seems fascinated.

  After a few seconds, I pull away and lean back.

  He doesn’t say anything, so I take the initiative and hold out my hand. “Your turn.”

  Matt sprinkles on the salt and then mimics my previous move, leaning down and gently running his tongue along my skin.

  Oh my God. I feel like there’s a direct line of electricity going straight from my hand down to…well…I’d rather not say.

  I feel like he can read my mind. His eyes crinkle as he downs the shot. I quickly shove the lime in his mouth to stop him from making a smartass comment.

  He grins, the green rind covering his teeth.

  “You’re such a child,” I say.

  He puts the lime down beside him and takes another sip of our shared cocktail.

  “It’s the only way to live,” he says. “Seeing the world through the eyes of a child.”

  “Do you really do that?” I ask.

  He stares off into the distance for a moment.

  “Yeah. I do. Or at least I try to.”

  “So, Matt,” I say, copying his earlier line of questioning. “I don’t really know anything about you other than the fact that you’re a photographer, and that you often disappear at a moment’s notice to do what I assume are vitally important tasks.”

  I worry this last comment will set him off, but he just smiles.

  “I deserve that,” he acknowledges. “No, I wasn’t doing anything super important. As I explained this morning, I didn’t think you would be leaving that early, so I went out and took some photos of the sunrise. As for this afternoon, I didn’t want to bother you. You were amazing…so focused! I didn’t want to interfere. I just hoped you’d still have time for me once you’d made half the people at the festival fall in love with you.”

  How can I argue with that?

  “Well, thank you.” I now feel all self-conscious, so I turn the attention back to him. “So, photography huh? Are you any good?”

  He pretends to look offended. “Of course I’m good.”

  “Show me some of your work.”

  “I can’t. You’ll have to wait until we get back to civilization. I didn’t bring my computer with me, and my camera’s display isn’t any good for viewing photos.” He snatches up a napkin off the bar and produces a pen from nowhere. “Write down your email so I don’t forget. I’ll send you a link to my site when I’m home.”

  I ignore the pen. “Is this how you pick up women? Ply them with alcohol and promise to dazzle their senses with your awesome photography?”

  His face turns serious.

  “Nope. Just you.”

  “I…um…” I flounder around, trying to think of a witty comeback, but I can’t concentrate with Matt looking at me that way.

  And then his
lips are pressed against mine – and it is amazing. My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure he must be able to hear it.

  Matt’s tongue, which only moments before was licking my hand, is now gently probing my mouth. It is a phenomenal kiss – possibly the single best moment of my entire life. Of course, that could be the desert and alcohol talking, but somehow Matt feels both comfortable and exciting at the same time.

  We kiss for what feels like ages, but I don’t care about the time, and I can’t imagine anyone in the bar would be paying us much attention. Especially when there are people having public sex in a nearby tent.

  “Should we get out of here?” I murmur.

  “Mm-hmm,” Matt says, now nibbling my earlobe.

  We stand up, and again I feel like I should be leaving some money for the bartender.

  “Thanks again!” I call out to him. He looks over and waves. Matt and I stumble back to the camper, tripping over tent pegs and stopping to make out against the walls of modern art structures.

  I’m not sure where this is heading, but I think I like it.

  THIRTY-TWO

  When we finally reach our site, Matt inhales sharply.

  “What?” I ask.

  He points to the camper. The light is on inside.

  “Oh.” I feel a stab of disappointment. I may not have had an exact idea what I wanted to happen, but I do know it didn’t involve Matt’s brother.

  “Do you still want to go in?” he asks.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.” How else could I answer? Actually no, Matt. How about we head off to the Love Zone and have a night of crazy, passionate sex?

  I’m not that drunk. And I’m definitely not uninhibited enough to perform any sort of physical act in front of other people. Plus, there’s still a tiny part of me that understands I need to be sensible. Just because I’m out here in the desert doesn’t make my heart immune from being broken again.

  Matt trudges into the van. He looks like he wants to punch something. Hopefully not his brother.

  Oli is completely oblivious to the angst he’s causing. “Hey guys! I’m just making grilled cheese. Would you like some?”

  Damn Oli. Why does he have to be so nice?

  “That would be awesome. Thank you. Do you need any help?”