Here's My Heart

by Maxene Novak

“Been restless since you left me

  All broke down and on a binge

  I quit crying on the third night

  Now I'm thirsty for revenge

  I've been trying to forgive you

  I've been trying to forget

  But I'm still not through with this

  and I'm still not over you.”

  I go into a more normal version of the chorus trying to keep up with Adam's vision. So far, I think it's going pretty well. Some of the patrons are singing along and others have their phones out, taking pictures.

  Then he slows as we near the last chorus, bringing the tempo back down into a darker, more serious mood.

  “I will make you hurt

  Till you feel my pain

  I'm gonna make you love me—yeah, you're gonna love me

  Till it feels like hate.

  Do whatever it takes

  Till it feels like hate.”

  Adam lets the rhythm fade out slowly and the crowd applauds. The announcer walks over and I let him take over the mic.

  “Nice!” he rests a friendly hand on my shoulder. “Everyone this is Nova Pierce and Adam Rose of Chicago's own, local band, Nova Rose. You can check them out on social media—Facebook, Twitter and YouTube.”

  The crowd hollers when Adam comes to help me off the stage. He gives them a wave as we make our way back to our seat. We're stopped for pictures every now and then, but it’s overall fairly quiet. Just as quickly as we were ushered on, someone else takes our place.

  “Come on,” Adam ushers me, throwing some cash down on the table.

  “Where are we going?” I ask and he shrugs.

  “You'll see,” he replies and helps me into my jacket.

  He takes my hand and leads me out into the street. When we climb inside his truck, he gives me a grin.

  “How'd you like that energy?”

  “It was pretty awesome. We should do things like this more often.”

  “I agree, I know the announcer. I can probably get us set up with something.”

  “Yeah, thanks for putting me on the spot like that!” I smack him on the arm.

  “You were good!” he says, defensively. “Really good! I think you nailed it tonight. Saw lots of phones out too, so I'll bet you're on Facebook and YouTube right now.”

  I sit in silence for moment as we pull onto the street. It feels like this is more of a publicity opportunity for the band instead of an actual date.

  “Don't worry,” he says as if he's in my head. “This is a date, I promise. I just want to show you off. You're amazing and so talented. I don't think enough people notice that or give it credit.”

  Well, I wasn't expecting that.

  “So, I was thinking the beach,” he continues after clearing his throat.

  “This late?” I ask skeptically. “I thought North Avenue closed at seven?”

  “Who said anything about North Avenue?” he asks, shaking his head. “We're living dangerously, Ohio Street.”

  “What?!” I exclaim. “That's open all hours!”

  “Yeah,” he says, nodding as if it's obvious.

  “Do we know the kind of people hanging out at the beach at night?”

  “People just like us—on a date, riding the buzz, or sneaking off somewhere,” he says. “We'll be fine, I promise.”

  I roll my eyes and grin. It's not like it's a horrible place. I just get nervous about people when an authority isn't really around. I mean, that's usually when people let their inner weirdo out, right? When they feel most confident?

  I'm sure it's fine though. I'm with Adam—I always feel safe with Adam. He's defended my honor before—not that I need him to—he was just quicker to throw the fist than I was. He's always there, actively participating and endlessly interested in anything I do.

  Even while he was in college, he'd come back and pick me up before going to his family's house. I remember trying to ask him about how it was going for him, but he was always more interested in what I did with my time.

  I did a lot of writing while he was busy. We looked for replacements and such—kind of on a hiatus, but we managed to keep everything going. He'd send me clips of riffs he'd been working on and I'd collaborate. Our third album is mostly us doing just that.

  We pull into a parking space and he shuts off the engine. He glances at the time and settles in his seat. It's well after midnight. I sit with him in silence for a few moments until it's almost unbearably awkward.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, reaching for the door handle.

  “Just hang on,” he says as headlights catch my attention.

  Oh, it's a cop car. Looks like they're checking on things. That makes me feel better. When they disappear around the next corner, he gets out and walks to my side of the truck. He opens the door and offers his hand politely.

  “What was that?” I look at him suspiciously.

  “What?” he asks innocently.

  “Why were we waiting here?” I simply arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I have alcohol on my breath. I don't want them to see I'm driving.”

  “Good point,” I reply and let him lead me toward the beach.

  It's beautiful. The moon is high and the city lights reflect on the water's surface. My boots slip and stick into the sand, making me wobble. We laugh together as we stumble about and he would point out the few people he thought were off for naughty time. There aren't many people here and like he said—mostly off to themselves. He climbs onto a lifeguard tower. I climb up after him and he helps me carefully sit down.

  “I didn't really have this whole thing planned,” he says sheepishly. “I wanted it to be more exciting for you.”

  “You know what?” I reply, looking out at the water. “Sometimes quiet is better. I've had fun.”

  “Really?” he asks, seemingly in surprise.

  “Yeah! I got to laugh, drink, eat, sing, and walk on the beach. Overall—pretty solid date.”

  “Good,” he sighs as if in relief, “I thought I tanked it.”

  “Nope,” I take his hand. “It's kind of flattering that you want to show me off.”

  “Well,” he responds, scratching behind his neck, “whoever doesn't is an idiot. You're awesome, Nova. I wish you could see that.”

  His words sound so genuine, pulling me back to the conversation we had in the truck.

  “Do you really think I'm amazing?” I suddenly feel awkward.

  “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Always.”

  I take a deep breath. I can feel the heat in my cheeks and around my ears. My heart races when he looks at me. This feeling is so new—a rush I've never felt before. A cool wind blows, stealing my breath as he caresses my chin.

  He leans closer, pressing me gently against the armrest. His gaze flits briefly down as he rests his head against mine. I feel his warm breath tickle my lips as his eyes close.

  Before I have time to overthink it, he presses his lips to mine and for a moment it feels like my heart forgets to beat. He's so gentle but firm and surprisingly passionate. I find myself eagerly returning his hungry kiss.

  His tongue grazes my lip teasingly and a fire ignites in me in ways I've never experienced with anyone else. I meet his tongue, nipping his lip as he deepens the kiss and his fingers tangle in my hair. Just as quick, he pulls away.

  His lips linger just a breath away from mine. I contemplate kissing him again but if this isn't what he intended, I don't want to push.

  “Why haven't I kissed you before?” he asks, gently brushing the hair out of my face.

  “I didn't know you wanted to,” I whisper as he settles back beside me.

  “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “ever since high school.”

  “What?! Why haven't you ever said anything?”

  “I thought I did,” he shrugs, “or have been. I guess, I just didn't say it loud enough.”

  He stops and looks over at me.

  “Hear me now?” he asks, smiling shyly.

  “Loud and clear,” I reply, leanin
g onto his shoulder.

  We sit and talk for a while, watching the bright lights bounce off the water. The atmosphere seems different as if the very next step I take will feel different than the last. Maybe because he's taking them with me? All of a sudden, a string of voices echo to my ears.

  “Oh, um…” he tugs on my arm, “we should get going.”

  “Oh, yeah. We probably shouldn't be sitting up here,” I quickly jump down.

  “Um—no,” he says hurriedly as the voices with flashlights start coming for us faster. “You see—it's been closed since eleven.”

  “We're trespassing?!” I exclaim as he takes my hand and starts running.

  “You make it sound illegal!” he argues as we run away.

  It's almost like running in slow motion because my feet keep slipping. We finally make it to the pavement and haul ass back to the truck. We're laughing hysterically as he cranks the engine to life and speeds away before they can catch up properly.

  “Oh my God!” I giggle. “I can't believe you lied to me!”

  “I didn't lie,” he retorts. “You assumed it was open all night. I just didn't correct you.”

  “Right.” I roll my eyes. “You're an ass!”

  “Whatever, you had fun,” he says, merging with traffic. “I had fun and I don't have fun if you don't. Just so you know.”

  “Sure,” I laugh.

  We pick on each other back and forth on our way back to my apartment. Before I know it, we're parked in front of my place and he's walking me to my door.

  “Coming in for a beer?” It's not like it's unusual for me to ask, but he stops at the front porch when I open the door.

  “No,” he says, releasing a breath. “It's a date, remember? A gentleman doesn't come inside on the first date.”

  “I see,” I step closer to him. “You won't come inside—even though you've been my best friend for my whole life?”

  “Yep, even though,” he shoves his hands in his pockets, “you are my best friend and as such you deserve the real thing. If this…” He gestures between the two of us, “is going to be something real, I want it done right. No pressure, no strings, not until we're sure we have a chance. I want to be your best friend forever, no matter what happens after tonight.”

  “We don't have to…” I try to argue but he interrupts me with a kiss.

  “If I came inside now,” he whispers against my lips, “I don't know if I could stop.”

  I don't know what to say. He caresses my cheek and kisses my forehead.

  “Goodnight, Nova,” he responds hoarsely.

  He quickly turns and walks back to his truck. He waves while he revs his engine and floors it down the road, honking his horn.

  Butterflies flutter in my stomach and a giddy feeling settles over me. For once, I wish I had a girlfriend to call because I'm so happy. Well, what are mothers for? She'll be thrilled that I went out with Adam.

  I walk inside and pick up the phone. It's late, I realize but the phone rings in my hand. Sure enough, it's my mom.

  “Hello?” I answer and she squeals in my ear.

  “Tell me all about it! His mom called me this afternoon and told me!”

  I giggle and flop down on the couch. Of course she knew.

  “It was so amazing, Mom,” I sigh excitedly.

  I'm glad she called. I wanted someone to talk to about it and Mom knows me so well. I tell her all about the date and just talk. It feels good knowing that my mother is still interested in my life. She may not agree with all of my life choices but she supports me when I make them.

  A smile rests on my face as if I just can't help myself. It turned out to be a great day after all and now—I think I have something worth writing about.

  Chapter Three

  I wake up in the morning to my phone ringing off the hook. I toss and turn, trying to ignore it, but whoever it is—they're persistent. I grab the phone and answer the call.

  “H-hello?” I say groggily.

  “Nova! It’s Adam! You need to wake up and get online! Me and the boys are coming over!”

  “What?” I ask, beginning to panic. “When? What's going on?”

  “You're not going to believe it!” I can hear his truck start. “We'll be there in ten!”

  With a click he hangs up and I stare at the phone. Shit. It's noon. Ugh. I roll out of bed and hurry to my dresser to throw on some clothes. A few minutes later, there's a knocking on the door.

  “Come in,” I call and the door swings open.

  The boys file in with their laptops and tablets at the ready.

  “Do you not lock your door?” Bryan asks, fiddling with the door handle.

  “Sometimes,” I reply offhandedly.

  “What if we were stalkers?” he asks, flopping down on the couch.

  “You wouldn't have knocked,” I reply and point to a baseball bat. “I have something hidden in every room. I dare someone to come through that door.”

  “Someone throw some salt on that,” Chad comments in passing while opening his laptop. “Can't have that kind of energy floating around. Not now.”

  “Yeah, what's going on?” I redirect back to the topic.

  Adam sits on the arm of the chair I'm sitting in and shows me his tablet. It's our YouTube statistics.

  “Oh my God!” I exclaim as I see our numbers. “How did this happen?!”

  “You know the little show you put on last night?” Adam grins. “It went viral. The fans loved it!”

  “Who shot the video?” I grab my computer from beneath the chair.

  Adam gets up and joins Chad and Bryan on the couch.

  “Someone in the audience,” he replies. “They got in contact with me on our page for permission to post it. It's great quality for being shot from a phone.”

  “Let me see,” I mutter, pulling up our Facebook page.

  It's the first thing I see besides the hundreds of notifications. I hit play on the video and hear the familiar chords. They recorded the whole thing. I glance down at the comments section and my pulse accelerates. It's amazing!

  I didn't realize how many people actually liked me—and us. These people are the ones that buy our merch and talk to us, shake our hands, hug us, take pictures with their phones. They're the real deal.

  “A hundred thousand likes?!” I squeal.

  “You're an overnight superstar,” Adam claps his hand in excitement and then pumps his fist.

  “We—We are,” I correct him. “My success is yours.”

  “Well, that's not all.” Adam takes a deep breath. “I got a phone call from one of my old professors. Come to find out, he's not working at the university anymore—he's a talent scout for a record label now. When he saw the video show up on his newsfeed this morning, he recognized my name and watched it. He's talked to his freaking cousin who's one of the higher ups—they want to check us out!”

  “Are you serious?” I'm shocked.

  “Yes!” he says excitedly.

  “When?!” I ask, climbing to a crouch in my chair.

  “Next week!” they all say together, freaking out with me.

  We scream in unison and jump around my living room.

  “Okay, what are we going to do?” I clutch Adam. He's kind of our manager too.

  “We are quitting our jobs!” he squeals but I stop him.

  “Dude, no,” I say, stepping down. “We don't know if they're going to sign us or what's even going to happen. It could be freaking ridiculous.”

  “I doubt it,” he jumps up to follow me into the kitchen. “Century Media Records.”

  “What?!” I spill hot coffee down my shirt. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. From the professor's mouth to my ear.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” I whisper. “We have to quit our jobs. They'll fire us anyway, and we have to practice every day as much as possible.”

  “Exactly,” he agrees.

  “But…” I stutter, shaking my head. “We have to be reasonable. There's also the likelihood that they won'
t like us. We have to have jobs.”

  “Right, call our managers, see if we can work something out,” he rationalizes. “But quit if we have to.”

  I weigh the compromise out in my head and sigh.

  “Sure, why not?” I reply, shaking on it.

  “Awesome,” he whispers. “We're going to get this! It's going to happen!”

  “What if we don't like them?” I shrug. “Let's just calm down, step up practice, and mess around with something new. We'll see how things go. Be objective.”

  “Right,” he takes a deep breath. “I'm calm, I'm good.”

  He gives me a smirk and we both start freaking out again quietly. A moment later we walk into the living room watching Chad, Bryan, and Kyle laugh and quietly freak out to themselves.

  “Okay, so is everyone going to ignore the pink elephant in the room?” Chad asks, giving me and Adam a mischievous grin. “What were you two doing at the Gallery Cabaret looking all spiffy?”

  “We were…” Adam stutters and sighs. “We were on a date.”

  “What's the cardinal rule, bro?” Chad cracks his knuckles.

  Adam rubs at his face irritably but I just look at them confused.

  “Nova, you're a babe,” Chad points out. “With babe status comes the innate responsibility for your band mates to not date you…”

  “It's bad for the band,” Kyle adds.

  “What if you two have a falling out over some other babe?” Chad suggests. “Chicks happen on the road.”

  “Not to mention the pressure of a relationship when fame gets involved,” Of course Bryan has to add also.

  “We've all seen the movies,” Chad continues. “Band mates start dating each other, one of them cheats or screws up or the relationship fails and so does the band, because none of them can stand each other any—”

  “Guys!” I interrupt them. “It was a date—calm down. Adam and I have been best friends since infancy, I think we're good and adult enough to handle it.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” Chad says innocently. “I just wish I'd known the rule was off so I could've—”

  “Thank you, Chad,” Adam clasps his hands together. “So, what are we supposed to be doing?”

  Everyone stops and looks around, confused.

  “Oh, I guess I didn't tell everyone,” Adam mumbles. “Call your bosses. See if you can get the next week off. This is a pretty big deal; if they don't let you have it—we'll discuss it.”