“I’d like to see you drunk. I mean really drunk.” The crazy idea of seeing her let down all of her inhibitions invaded my mind. “I’ll have to take you to the bar some time and line up shots.”
“It wouldn’t affect me. It’s all mind over matter.” She reminded me of a cartoon character the way she tapped her forehead, but I didn’t want to offend her by laughing.
“Not a chance.” I said, instead. “I’d pay to see you drunk. Not buzzed—drunk.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen tonight.”
“Yeah, probably not. More for me, I guess.” I proved it by swallowing another solid swig. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
“Checking out the scenery, counting the drunk graduates-to-be, thinking how much it sucks that it’s not me.”
“Offer stands. We can get you drunk.” I smiled still amused by the thought of Lara drunk.
“Not the drinking—the graduating.” She laughed and then showed me her visibly swollen thumb. “I got bit by something.”
“Youch! What the hell did that?”
“I don’t know. I guess spider? It actually woke me up. I was sound asleep and felt the pinch. I’m just keeping an eye on it—making sure it doesn’t get any worse. I’m not really anxious to get back into my room.”
“I don’t blame you. That’s nasty.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Want me to keep you company for a little while?”
“Sure.”
Geez, why did my whole body just react knowing she wanted me to stay? I thought I was past the whole thing between her and I. When I mumbled something about her having to share the blanket, which was casually draped on her legs, I realized what a ‘guy move’ it sounded like, and internally kicked myself.
“You didn’t play tonight?” she asked about my band while wrapping her blanket around the two of us.
“Nope.” I tried to focus on her question and her face instead of her legs and the proximity the blanket created. “We’re done until after graduation. We’re going to do a gig in Pittsburgh, though—early summer. Got it lined up. On the South Side. Is that anywhere near where you live? Maybe you could come—bring some friends.”
“It’s about an hour away. We’ll see.”
“That would be cool.”
“You’re still going to L.A., though, right?” When she leaned her head on my shoulder, I took the final swig of beer.
God help me, I shouldn’t be drinking. I shouldn’t be snuggled up against her. It was wrong. But, damn, it felt right.
“Yeah, at the end of summer,” I managed. “I still can’t believe it. That place is iconic.”
“The best. They had to have really liked the samples you submitted, especially with how steep the competition must have been.”
“Well, it is unpaid grunt work.”
“But, God, there are hundreds of people who would die for the opportunity. It’s your talent.”
“And luck.”
“How about perseverance?” she offered. Lara was always my cheerleader. She poked my arm with her index finger. “It’s going to open doors. I know it will.”
“And, if not, I’ll still have my good ole college degree that the folks wanted. I’ll have something to fall back on and not just, ‘Do you want fries with that.’”
“Finn,” she seemed to tisk, not going along with my self-doubt. “If anyone can do it, you can. You’ll be a big star.”
“God, I—” I stopped myself momentarily and probably should have counted to ten. But, I didn’t. I was feeling too good—too good with impending graduation, the internship, the beer, and her . . . her support and her platinum locks fanning out on me. I went with the moment and gently lifted her head off my shoulder so she had to turn to face me. “Lara,” I said, “if I wasn’t seeing Audrey, would you go out with me?” I felt suddenly intoxicatingly high and stone cold sober at the same time. Even though I pretty much knew and feared the answer—the rejection, I needed to ask the question, anyway.
“Finn . . .” she hesitated.
I filled the empty silence by sliding my lips onto hers. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t the best, but it was a first and something I had wanted to do for a long time.
“We would be good together,” I concluded while looking at . . . searching her eyes.
“You’re drunk.” She was accurate with her first statement but not on her next. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” She didn’t give me a chance to reply. “And, you are seeing Audrey. You two will move to the West Coast, and you’ll forget all about me.”
“I doubt it,” I admitted out loud.
Needing one last touch, I concentrated on carefully bringing my forehead to Lara’s. But this time, our lips wouldn’t meet. That was it. It had to be.
I patted her leg. “Night night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I think I managed a smile before getting up, walking down those stairs, and exiting back into the coolness of the dark night.
“Ugh—the light. Why is it so bright?” I squinted my eyes and threw my forearm across them.
I felt like I was in a vacuum. There was a low buzzing sound in my ears. No, it was more like my head.
When I finally adjusted to my surroundings, I realized I was in my bed. The sheets were tousled and thrown. The pillows laid haphazardly on the floor. I could hear some of my fraternity brothers talking in the nearby lounge. I could tell it was probably closer to mid-day than morning by the slightest ray of light that beamed a little too brightly through the crack in the window’s drapes. My stomach swished a little. And then I remembered. I remembered the night before.
“Oh, geez. Oh, God. Lara,” I mumbled to myself.
What had I been thinking? Why had I kissed her? I knew ‘us’ wasn’t going to happen. I hadn’t even felt that way for a while … since Audrey and I had become serious. Or, was there some validity to alcohol being a truth serum?
It didn’t matter, though. In the light of day—the obnoxious bright light of day—it didn’t matter at all. Everything was back to how it had been. Well, besides my head. That still needed the help of pain meds or at least water.
As I slowly recovered from my hangover by lounging around the frat house and trying to write some tunes, it bothered me more and more what had happened the night before. I had regrets. It wasn’t so much about the kiss itself, but the fear that I could have offended her or changed our friendship in any way.
Sometime after dinner, I sucked it up, ran my hands through my hair, put on my ‘big boy pants,’ and ventured down to her dorm. The place was practically empty, as underclassman had started going home for the summer, and the others were, no doubt, at one of the local establishments. Lara wouldn’t be at either, though. I knew that. I knew her.
Sure enough, I found her in her room. Her door was half-way open, and she was lying on her bed with her back to me. There were only two elements of light—her active, tiny television set and her red lava lamp bubbling away in her window.
I smiled and softly chuckled at the latter of the two. It gave me my opening. “Lar-a, you don’t have to put on the red light. Lar-a,” I sang the famous Police song changing ‘Roxanne’ to her name.
It had been an ongoing joke between the two of us. The lava lamp had instantly sparked the song in my head when I had first seen it in her room months before. Lyrics often invaded my mind like that. It made my family crazy when I was growing up. But the irony of those particular words in connection to my blonde, co-ed friend was downright hysterical. Associating Lara Faulkner with prostitution and the red-light district was completely out of the realm of sane possibilities.
“Lara?” I tried again, this time without singing, but she didn’t move. “Lara?”
I didn’t venture any further than the initial doorway of her room. Again, it was a respect thing . . . ‘a raised up right’ thing. She didn’t turn around. In fact, she didn’t move. Of course, I knew she was breathing. The slight rise and fall of her back had changed when I h
ad first sung out her name. Was she sleeping? I wasn’t sure. She could have been. But, something … Was she purposefully blowing me off? Was that it?
God, I knew it. I had really messed up. Only days until graduation, and I had screwed up my friendship with Lara. She not only didn’t want to kiss me, but she didn’t even want to talk to me, or even acknowledge my presence.
I retreated from her doorway and proceeded straight to Fat Boys—the nearest campus bar. I pounded a few beers and sang ‘Rhiannon’ in a drunk sort of way before making my way back to the area which housed both my fraternity and Lara’s dorm. The red light was now off in her window—extinguished. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and called who I should have been thinking of in the first place … Audrey.
“Okay, Pop,” I said in response to my father who wanted to make sure he and my mom got to spend some time with me on my special day. With the graduation ceremony having just finished, I was officially a man, and I had been bouncing, with Audrey at my side, from person to person. “I’ll meet you at the main gates in a few.”
When I turned around, I found myself smack in front of Lara. My stomach did a quick flopping motion just like those first few seconds or so when I would step on any stage. Her turquoise eyes met mine, and I felt it. It wasn’t my imagination. We were both thinking of that kiss on the couch. Geez, and now I was standing in front of her unable to say anything . . . unable to apologize or offer an explanation. I couldn’t—not with Audrey right there next to me.
Lara broke the strange awkwardness by removing an envelope from her purse. When she handed it to me, I released Audrey’s hand. Unleashing the seal, I pulled out a simple graduation card with a McDonald’s gift card inside.
“For your long drive to La La Land,” she explained. “I figured there’s always a Mickey D’s somewhere to stop at along the way. You can get coffee, or a sundae, or those Grimace cookies—just no fries with that.” I smiled as she joked about the comment I’d made that night on the couch.
“Thanks.” I tucked the cards back inside the envelope. “And no. No fries.” When a bit of awkward silence followed, I asked, “Do they still make those cookies?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She looked to Audrey as if she could provide the correct answer.
The visual of the two girls standing in front of one another made me realize they had never met. Audrey had been on our campus only once, and we had kept pretty much to ourselves that weekend. And, I liked it that way. Standing there now, I wasn’t too keen on them getting to know one another then, either. Lara, I was sure, knew who Audrey was because of me talking about her and some pics I had. But Audrey? No. It didn’t go both ways.
“I don’t know. I don’t really eat at McDonald’s.” Audrey’s reply drew me back to the legit topic at hand.
Well, that was true. Audrey was not the fast food type. She always dressed and groomed herself to perfection. She presented herself in the role she wanted as a career—a television news anchor or something in the media business. So, sticky booths and bouncy kids were not the ideal eating locale for her. Plus, I knew she watched her weight. She was a typical salad date whenever we went out. The camera puts on extra pounds, after all.
“I’ll see you before L.A., though,” I said as I felt Audrey stroke and reclaim my hand.
“Huh?” Lara’s nose scrunched up in confusion.
“The big wedding.” I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes.
Sam and Olivia were wasting no time and planned to get married that August. Even though I could have laid down bets the marriage wouldn’t last, I’d kept my mouth shut and agreed to be one of Sam’s groomsmen. The upside? Lara was one of Olivia’s bridesmaids.
“Of course. How could I forget?” Her sarcasm was apparent and mirrored my thoughts to a T. Lara and I had, after all, had many head-shaking conversations about Sam and Olivia’s engagement.
“And the gig in Pittsburgh,” I reminded Lara.
“Oh, right. Yeah. Send me the details. I’ll see.” She didn’t seem so sure, though. Her response was very hesitant. And, sadly, I wondered if our friendship was witnessing one of its last moments.
I grasped onto Audrey’s hand tighter. She was my future. She was the person I was moving to California with and the girl I loved. And, I did. I truly did.
Lara gave me the most innocent and sweet smile before saying, “Bye, Finn.”
Opting for a less definitive farewell, I reached out my hand. “See ya, Lara.” But she had already turned and walked away.
That first month post collegiate world? Boy, no one prepares you for that. If leaving home for the first time when entering college was scary, after college was ten times worse. The world was no longer mapped out for you. You weren’t surrounded constantly with friends and fun. It was downright frightening and a little depressing.
The good thing was, I had anchors in my life. One, of course, was my family. They always kept me grounded. And the other was the internship, which gave me a direction in which to start my new life.
Audrey, having also just graduated, was experiencing a lot of the same things I was. The difference was, she didn’t have anything lined up as far as a job. She was making the move to California with me and hoping to find something once we got there. Los Angeles was the media mecca, after all. Her parents, though, weren’t happy about her moving so far away without any stability whatsoever.
I don’t want to say that was what influenced my decision, but I do think it moved the timeline along at a quicker pace than I had planned. If I had to do it all over again, I would have given more thought when selecting the sparkler. I would have talked with her family. I would have made it more memorable. But, it was almost like it was a rite of passage. It was the next step. That was what you were supposed to do—high school, college, job . . .
I wasn’t nervous when I proposed. It just kind of happened. I had the ring—a small diamond with a simple, gold band. I had actually been thinking about what I wanted to say when she told me she was anxious about moving to California. So, I said, ‘Would this help?’ And, just like that, Audrey and I were engaged.
Audrey was happy, and I was, too. Actually, I was more than happy. I had found a third anchor. I knew I loved her and wanted her with me, but knowing we had a commitment gave me a sense of contentment and security I hadn’t felt since graduating.
It showed in my music, too, as I became more and more energized with each gig that summer. The show in Pittsburgh was at a local bar. There was a fantastic piano player on before us who had the packed crowd already on their feet by the time we hit the stage. I loved the audience’s energy, although I couldn’t see most of them because the lights were low and there was a balcony section. I did hear their voices sing along, though, and saw the cellphone lights swaying.
When one of those lights tilted toward a person in the audience, it highlighted her face. Standing quite a few tables back was Lara. She had come after all. When we had spoken at graduation and I had texted her earlier in the week, it had seemed doubtful she would come. So, this—she—was a complete surprise. I did a quick smile in her direction but didn’t break my performer mode. It felt like forever since I had last seen her, yet it had only been a couple months—a couple months where so much had already changed.
After the final note was played, I made my way to the small lobby area to meet Audrey. But, I also found Lara and another girl who looked to be about our age. Lara was complimenting Audrey’s ring when I saddled up beside my fiancé and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.
“Lar,” I said then. “I’m so glad . . . shocked,” I amended and then continued, “but glad you’re here.”
She pointed to her shorter brunette friend, “Nan made me do it.”
A small smile accompanied her obvious effort to joke, but neither came off quite right. She seemed a little unsure . . . more like the Lara I had first met. Well, besides her physical get-up. She wore more make-up than her usual, casual look. It was darker and heavier. And h
er clothes were more form fitting than I was used to seeing her in. She looked nice, but she didn’t really need any of it. Maybe it was her new concert look. I tossed the thought aside and gave her a hug. Her response was a tight grasp around my torso followed by a quick release almost immediately.
“Congratulations,” she swapped her eyes back and forth from Audrey to me.
“Thanks,” I beamed, coming off the high of performing to a receptive crowd and having my fiancé by my side. “Audrey and I were going to head straight back to Louisville, but if you want to grab a drink or something…”
“Neh.”
I almost laughed again at that little nonsense word. But, I didn’t, because it still meant ‘no.’ I should have guessed Lara would have passed on the drinking, but I still hoped she would have at least wanted to catch up.
“It could be coffee.” I offered a ‘Lara’ alternative.
She shook her head. “No. Gotta get home myself. I guess I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
“We’ll be there,” I acknowledged Sam and Olivia’s nuptials. “Lara,” I said a little slower. “Seriously, thanks for coming. It means a lot.”
“Yeah.”
She probably thought I was referring to the support all up-and-coming artists needed. But it wasn’t just that. It was the fact I realized I hadn’t lost her as a friend. She had come. I hadn’t screwed everything up. Despite not having a chance to actually talk about it, there didn’t seem to be any lasting negative effects from our kiss. Thank goodness, because that truly would have meant a country song kind of ending.
Sam and Olivia’s wedding took place in Sam’s hometown in West Virginia—not too far from campus. It was an intimate, simple affair. Sam didn’t have a big family and Olivia’s was a hot mess who either didn’t attend or were arguing. There wasn’t a rehearsal at the chapel, but there was a rehearsal dinner the night before. It was a genuine pig roast at Sam’s parent’s home in the country. The backroad, casual style definitely turned some heads and tilted some beer bottles.
Can't Buy Me Love Page 24