Just a Monumental Summer: Girl on the train

by Schneiders, M.

  “Nice to meet you. It’s so cool. You must be proud: your friend is in a rock band. Your life must be so exciting,” I said.

  “You will get bored after a while. If you continue to stay with Alin, you’ll see,” she replied frankly. Then her tone and smile turned conspiratorial. “He is single; in case you want to know.”

  I liked her, and I couldn’t help but smile back; she was genuine and warm. I had been scared she would be an arrogant bitch. I would be, if my boyfriend were in a rock band about to become famous.

  Someone got some chairs for us. It was Silent Delusion’s turn to perform. The announcer introduced them with impressive words as announcers do to build up audience anticipation. My heart was beating fast. I just knew Alin was going to be stupendous.

  And he was. The band was amazing, and the audience seemed to love them. But Alin’s singing and his playing seemed to reach across the audience provoking claps and praises.

  It seemed like a dream to watch them perform and be part of their entourage. After their show, a lot of girls were blocking their exit, trying to talk with all the band members. The band took their time with the girls. I have to admit a pang of jealousy struck me when I saw a petite young blonde, obviously trying to press a little close to Alin and he didn’t push her back. He has to let his little girly groupies think he’s at least a little interested in them. He can’t insult his growing fan-base. Still I didn’t like the peck on the check the groupie gave him. It was no small relief when he began wading through the crowd of adorers to leave. I then noticed Jony seemed to connect with another girl: a tall brunette with big tits.

  My tits are better, I thought. What was wrong with me?

  “Does it not bother you? All these girls trying to get their attraction?” I asked Geta while I sadly noticed Jony leaving with the curvy girl. Why do I care about Jony?

  “Oh, the groupies?” Geta laughed, showing her great teeth. “I was one of them. They just want to have fun. I am always with him, so no way he can slip.” She was confident. I wanted to ask her how she had managed to become Vladi’s girlfriend. She must be good in bed, I was thinking

  Alin and Teo approached us, grinning like a couple of proud teenagers.

  I threw my arms around Alin, forgetting myself in all the excitement. “Alin, it was so cool!” I said. I was excited and happy for him.

  “Wait to see us after the Festival,” Teo said, beaming with pride. “We will win first prize, and we will get the contract that will get us on TV and outside the borders.”

  “Yes, but only if Black Vinyl will retire,” Alin said more soberly and then whispered into my ear, “Teo is delusional.”

  Vladi joined us. "What about Black Vinyl? Fuck them!” he said in an arrogant voice, while kissing Geta.

  “You know them. They’re everywhere because they have connections with the guys ‘up there’. They were the first group in the country who ever get to own an electronic keyboard. This is how they started. With a keyboard; their golden ticket. They have the best timing.” Geta added bitterly.

  “But I like Black Vinyl.” Oops. Again, I’d opened my mouth without thinking. All eyes were fixed on me, and I was ready for someone to punch me. Teo stopped gathering his things and gave Vladi a look like: Can you believe this girl?

  Luckily, Alin saved me. “That’s why I like her. She speaks her mind! C’mon, guys. Let’s clean up. We’re done here.” The show wasn’t over. Black Vinyl was about to perform, being the last group to appear.

  Geta asked me if I would join them at the disco. Before I could reply, Alin answered for me: “Of course, we’re going. We need to celebrate. I may have another song!”

  The announcement made them happy. Alin delivered me an accomplice’s smile and took my hand, and we left. I was happy and felt at ease.

  CHAPTER 6

  BITCH!

  Finally, I got to see the famous, fancy Sky Disco. The perfect quality of its equipment and the music hosted by the best DJ in the country made it the most desirable summertime attraction in the country. The entrance price was expensive but somehow, the place managed to maintain its full capacity, night after night. While driving there, we could hear the loud music from far away. It was a big building accented by colorful lights on all sides that played with illumination and shadow against every feature of its surface to wondrous effect. When we parked the car, a huge crowd bustling to get inside was blocking the entrance.

  Once inside, it was dark and loud. Then I realized everyone’s teeth were extremely white. Later I found out it was a new trend, the phosphorescent lights. We made our way to the back, slowly pushing through the mob. We finally found an isolated corner with a couple of tables and comfortable chairs, surprisingly not taken. It must have been a private lounge.

  A statuesque girl, dressed in a relaxed, shimmering black dress, was sipping a fancy cocktail and looking at the dancing crowd. A goddess! I thought, intimidated by her perfectly formed features. She saw us coming, of course, and from the look in her eyes I knew she and Alin were no strangers to each other. Bitch is trouble, I told myself.

  An elegant, long, black cashmere shawl thrown with purposeful negligence around her shoulders. Her long, thick, silky, auburn hair was swept into an elaborate, elegant bun and perfectly cut bangs. The hair was styled toward the back in sleek layers of overlapping bands of hair with a different pattern on each side. Her dramatic bangs obscured her eyes in a Cleopatra style. She was wearing extremely large earrings.

  Am I the only one in here who doesn’t have her own personal hairstylist? I asked myself, having Geta in my mind.

  “I was waiting for you. You didn’t call.” Her eyes glared accusingly toward Alin while ignoring me. I didn’t like her. I knew that much immediately, even though I didn’t know anything about her. She spoke with a pretentious tiredness in her voice. She seemed rigid and cold, intimidating and well-practiced at manipulation. Her large earrings seemed quite inappropriate, but then again, I did not qualify as an objective observer at that particular moment.

  She was the opposite of me. The girl I always wanted to be. The way she breathed class and style was perfect: her manner of talk and dress, her perfect makeup. Suddenly, I felt cheap; and I knew I had too much makeup on. She looked at her watch, a gold one, and said, “Can’t stay. I need to drive to Bucuresti first thing in the morning.”

  Of course, the bitch has her own car. I hated her.

  "I have a show to attend, Alin. I only came to take care of Victor’s issue; you know he gets always in trouble. I hate that I have to fix things for him,” she explained angrily.

  Alin finally introduced me. “Ema, this is Mona.”

  I tried to offer her my hand, but because Alin was sitting between us, I looked ridiculous; no way I could reach her hand unless my arm became extendable. I immediately pulled my hand back, hoping Alin hadn’t noticed. I didn’t care about what she thought; I knew she hated me.

  She pretended she’d just noticed my presence. “Hi, nice to meet you”—which of course meant, I don’t like you, and you don’t matter. “I am his best friend. We’ve known each other for ages”—which translated as, He’s mine, bitch, even if you sleep with him. Yep, my instinct was right! She was trouble. And I knew Alin had loved her, or worse: maybe Alin still loved her.

  “By the way, my name is Emma, with double ‘M,’” she told me while admiring her nails.

  Really? I tried not to laugh. Well, girl, there is no difference with one or two. Is still pronounced the same.

  She tried to impress me. No Romanian name had a double letter in it.

  Can I call you Ema with one ‘M’? I asked with exaggerated sarcasm.

  “What did Victor do this time?” Alin was trying to change the subject, quickly.

  C’mon Alin, why are you totally ignoring my incredible funny remark.

  Ema didn’t ignore my sarcasm; I saw the look she gave me and I was sure she already killed me like three times. In her mind.

  I tried to move closer to
Alin, so I’d be able to hear better. Even in the separate lounge, the music was still loud.

  “Mirela is pregnant. He is causing only trouble. A moron!” Ema concluded, shaking her head in disgust. “And of course, he is in love again.” Her voice was condescending.

  I’ve got you, bitch. You are not happy. You can’t be happy if you despise love.

  “So, what do you do now?” Alin asked while he reached for my hand and kissed it. In front of her. He kissed it, and she saw it.

  Take that, bitch! I thought triumphantly. Guess we both know where you stand.

  “I gotta go.” She kissed him on his cheek, as if trying to mark her territory in front of me. She took her glass with her and left the lounge with an ostentatious walk, like she was doing a catwalk in a fashion show. Later, I found out she was indeed a fashion model, but that was not an excuse to walk like that when people were watching. By people, I mean me.

  Vladi and Geta, followed by a bunch of people, entered the lounge.

  “Was it Ema?” Geta asked. She looked at me, sending me a secret warning. I looked back at her, signaling, I know.

  These unspoken messages are lost on a man’s eyes; but women know all the important codes and can say a lot to one another without speaking a word.

  Alin grabbed my hand, and he raised his voice, trying to conquer the noise. “Let’s go on the terrace. It’s nice out there.”

  It wasn’t nice, due to the billions of mosquitos dancing all around, but who cared? I needed to speak with him in private.

  “Who is she? Did you sleep with her? Do you love her?” My voice reached an annoyingly high frequency after each phrase came from my mind and out of my mouth.

  Alin was smiling again.

  “And stop using this smile with me. You know I hate it,” I concluded, reaching for air.

  “Do you? I didn’t know you hated my smile. You didn’t tell me.” That smile, along with his insufferably boyish charm, quelled my anger almost immediately.

  “Of course I do, because I can’t resist it. And you know it. That’s why you always parade this smile on your face. Like a weapon.” I wasn’t upset anymore. I wanted to be mad at him for not letting me be angry anymore, but I just couldn’t.

  “This is good, baby. Because I am a sucker for your laugh. When you laugh, the whole world is laughing with you.” Alin tried to derail my attention.

  “Don’t change the subject. Please, Alin, I have to know,” I insisted.

  Alin tried to explain. “She is a good friend. I was first a friend of her brother, Victor.”

  “Oh, the idiot! So Her Majesty is not perfect, it seems. She has a moron brother. She is human," I said with sarcasm.

  He grinned at me. “Yes, he does stupid stuff sometimes—I guess most of the time—but he is a good guy. We had our first performing contract in Costinesti seven years ago—it’s how we met. Ema was a spoiled teenager. I practically lived in their house. His parents are like my family, and she was like a sister to me,” he concluded.

  Nice way to describe incest. I thought of throwing it in his face. But I bit my tongue and tried to limit my sarcastic comments. “She was like a sister?” I asked, puzzled.

  “We had a thing; it didn’t work. We stayed friends,” he explained, pretending it was no big deal.

  I wondered who had rejected whom? I had a feeling he wouldn’t tell me more. I knew Geta would tell me more. I’d had enough drama for the moment, anyway.

  “Damn, Alin, it’s not my right to ask you. It’s your life. I am not your girlfriend. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” I apologized. I was blaming him. He overwhelmed me; he’d asked me to be with him without telling me about Ema. But I’d lost my temper, and I had to fix things.

  “No, it’s ok. I like when you care. You look so sexy when you’re jealous,” he said with that irritating, and completely adorable, smile.

  “I’m not jealous. I don’t know who you are, and I am trying to figure it out. Today you asked me to be your girlfriend. To move in with you, and now I realize you have some unfinished business. I know something is going on,” Bitterness was coating my words.

  “I still want you to be my girl. I like you, I can’t get you out of my mind, and you make me so horny. It’s like you put a spell on me,” he said while he grabbed my butt.

  He kissed me. I felt warm. I turned my head around, trying to see if we were alone. I kissed him. I wasn’t in the mood—too early to have sex again—but I knew I had to get it out of hissystem.

  “And really? Ema, with the double ‘M.’ It’s so freaking ridiculous. One ‘M’ is not enough? She needs two of them? Some don’t even have one. Violeta, for example: there is no ‘M’ in it. And I don’t hear complains about that.” I had to have the last word. But Alin laughed, admitting sometimes she was too pretentious.

  He agreed with me and kissed me back. We sneaked around the corner and had a quickie.

  Afterward, we went inside. We joined the band and had fun. Later, in the morning, Jony came back alone. No curvy brunette. He had a weird look. The too much to drink look. Then, we went to the beach to watch the sunrise. The beach was surprisingly crowded, lots of sleeping tents, and students gathered around the fire. Someone had the idea to go into the water. A good occasion to show my perfect body. Jony was lying in the sand, watching us and watching me. He looked sober this time. I knew he noticed me. I flaunted my kiss with Alin on his face.

  I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that I wanted to make Jony jealous. Why did I want to do that? Maybe, in a previous life, I must simply have been a bitch!

  CHAPTER 7

  A RADIO INTERVIEW

  “It’s always something,” my mother used to complain after a long, sleepless night. Only now, it was me who wasn’t sleeping very well. And it was not something; it was everything: new place, no space, no privacy.

  After we woke up, Alin decided to rehearse his song. The song was improving, but he was still trying to rhyme the lyrics. I went to the balcony and opened the door. The air was salty and fishy, and the sun was already shining. Why can’t I live here forever?

  He stopped playing, and I heard the soft padding of his feet as he approached me. I didn’t turn around. His arms slid around my waist, and his fingers interlocked in front of me. His kisses on my neck were divine. He gently pulled my hair up and continued to lovingly nuzzle my neck. I tried to forget everything else: the botched exam, Alexandru, my aunt’s filthy apartment, my mother’s disappointment; my life.

  Suddenly, his voice interrupted my fantasies. “

  “I can’t wait to hear our song on the radio. You are my poetry, babe. Do you want to be my muse?”

  Are you kidding me? I would be your cleaning lady. “I thought I was already your muse,” I said. “So when do you think it will be ready?”

  “We have rehearsals in two days, and we will start working on it.” His voice intoned doubt as he went on. “I hope this year we’ll break through.”

  It was one in the afternoon. Alexandru was supposed to be here at five. Plenty of time. I said I wanted to go to the beach and have something to eat. I was trying to figure out how to tell him to take his stuff from my room. “Alin, a friend will be here at five. He will help me to get a job here.”

  He didn’t let me finish. “It’s ok. I understand.” He took his luggage and his guitar and went toward the door. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  We stopped in front of a small bistro. We chose to stay inside, as the sun was too strong. The place was packed, outside and inside. We found a small table with two seats, and a girl, about twenty, approached us.

  “Hey, sweetie,” said Alin. “How are you?” He gave her a warm hug.

  What the fuck! You can only use your smile with me, Alin.

  She smiled at us. She was wearing a decent, below-the-knee, flowery dress. Her light-brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing no makeup.

  I am not jealous; I am not jealous. Who is that b
itch?

  “Dana, this is Mona,” Alin said, looking kindly at her.

  Dana said hello to me, and I couldn’t help but instinctively warm to her sweet smile, although I refused to let down my guard down.

  “Mona, did you see the statues?” Dana asked, ignoring him. “They are everywhere around the resort.”

  “Ah, I did see one. The one that looks a corkscrew bottle opener,” I said hesitantly, knowing my comment would make me look embarrassing.

  Alin laughed. “That’s how we refer to it. The screw opener. But actually, it represents butterflies swirling around.”

  Dana joined his laugh. “There are more statues all around. Real art. Not communist, horrendous pieces of shit. All great artists exhibit their art here. I would be happy to show you the real Costinesti, Mona.”

  While admiring her cute and delicate face, which was playfully sprinkled with naughty freckles, I had to ask myself: Are you for real? How can a person look sosweet and innocent?

  We had a good lunch. Dana took a break to sit with us and chat about the statues, about her dog, and about her “stupid” neighbor, who apparently couldn’t stand her dog. There was something about Dana—the way she talked, the words she used. She breathed genuine kindness from all her pores. I’ve always felt drawn to and admired pure people. Dana was a wonder for me. I asked myself how someone could be so innocent when the world was ugly and bad. I envied her because I knew I couldn’t be like her. I lost my innocence a long time ago, and I knew I could never go back to that place.

  A group of people from the other table recognized Alin and congratulated him for last night’s performance. “You guys were awesome. Great show, man. Are you working on something new?” a skinny, dirty guy, probably a student, asked while shaking Alin’s hand.

  I need to remind Alin to wash his hands, I thought while trying to hold my breath; this guy smelled bad—really bad.

  “I will have a new song coming soon. I was working on it, and now I may have found my muse.” Alin looked at me with an accomplice’s smile. I was grateful and smiled back at him.