“Oh yeah, sorry. That’s Brooks, and on drums is Jett.” I indicated each one.
“Hey, guys. I’m Jessie. I knew Dawson when he lived here,” my former friend spoke to my bandmates like there was nothing wrong. Like he wasn’t touching the girl I dreamed about.
“So, you’re Izzy’s boyfriend?” Brooks, ever the subtle one, asked.
“I guess you could say that. We just started dating a couple weeks ago.” He settled in the chair next to her and slid the computer back so they both were visible.
“You didn’t mention anything when I talked to you yesterday or the day before or last week,” I said to Izzy with a frown.
Her shoulders hunched up around her ears. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about it. We talked about so much other stuff, it didn’t cross my mind. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you or anything,” she rambled on. Her fingers twirled a lock of hair, her nervous tell.
Behind me, Brooks started playing “Jessie’s Girl”. The words hit a little too close to home for me. I turned and glowered at him. He just smirked.
♪ Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield
“You guys should totally play that for Izzy,” Jessie said. “Since she’s my girl.” He dropped his arm around her shoulders and winked at her.
“Maybe later, after we’ve learned it,” I said. “I hate to cut our call short, Iz, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of, and it looks like you’ve got plans.”
Hurt flashed across her face for an instant before she said, “OK. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Yeah.” She pressed a kiss to her fingertips and pressed them to the screen.
“Bye, flutterby.” I repeated her gesture and closed the computer.
“That sucks, man,” Brooks muttered behind me.
I didn’t say anything else.
Over the next six months, my conversations with Izzy became shorter and shorter. Especially when Jessie was around. And he always seemed to be around. Our emails grew longer. And she still wrote me real letters and sent artwork, just like she had ever since I moved away. We didn’t really talk about Jessie or the girls I casually dated, just minor mentions in passing.
Izzy and Jessie were planning to go to the prom together. And it burned me up inside. A whole hell of a lot. I finally decided to ask the girl I’d been casually dating to go. But I dreaded taking her. I’d known her since eighth grade English. Had even taken her to my first formal dance. Just like the eighth-grade formal, mine and Izzy’s proms were the same night. And just like that night, I suspected prom night would be filled with unfulfilled wishes of being there with Izzy instead of Casey.
A couple weeks before prom, Izzy sent me an email in the middle of the school day, saying she needed me. I called her as soon as I got home. She was crying when she answered. In all the years I’d known her, I’d only seen her cry like this the day Brownie died and the day before I moved away. My mind immediately went to the possibility that something awful had happened to her parents.
“Flutterby, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t hide my concern.
“I-I-I shouldn’t ‘ve called you y-yet,” her voice hitched as she tried to explain.
“Don’t be silly. You can call me anytime, about anything. Now, tell me what happened. Complete honesty. Are your parents OK? Are you OK?” I demanded. I felt so helpless watching her cry through a screen where I couldn’t wipe her tears away or hold her or kiss her until everything was better.
“Yeah. I just had the most awful day. Actually, I’ve been having a lot of bad days the past few weeks,” she admitted.
“I noticed you’ve been different. You’ve been quiet lately. Tell me why, flutterby.” I hadn’t wanted to push her to open up before. Izzy always came around to telling me things in her own timeframe.
“Jessie… I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.” She shook her head and drew in a shuddering breath. “Jessie’s been p-p-pressuring me.”
“Pressuring you?” I clenched my fist in my lap as I rapidly tried to come up with some sort of pressure situation that wouldn’t make me want to rip his head off.
“Yeah… to… um… have sex with him. I kept telling him no,” she whispered.
My heart lurched. If he hurt her, I was going to jail because I was going to kill him. “Izzy, did he force you?” I felt like I died in the handful of seconds it took for her to answer me.
“No. He didn’t. But he said it would happen prom night. We would finally do… it. He rented a motel room and everything. I told him I wasn’t ready. So, he dumped me in front of everyone today at lunch. I’ve never been so embarrassed before.” A fresh torrent of tears flowed down her cheeks.
“It’s OK. Izzy, I promise it’ll be OK. Jessie didn’t deserve you. I thought that from day one.” My heart rejoiced she was no longer tied to him. But it ached because she was hurting.
“Now I’ll be the laughing stock of the prom. I can’t go. I don’t have a date,” she sobbed.
“No one will laugh at you for standing up for yourself. That’s brave. Now, don’t you have some friends who are going as a group?” I recalled her telling me some of them didn’t have dates.
“Yeah,” she hiccupped.
“Then go with them. You can’t let him rob you of your prom. You’ve been so excited about going. You’ll go with your girlfriends, and you’ll have a blast without that jerk,” I didn’t try to hide the venom in my voice at the end of my little speech.
“You’re right. I’m not even really upset we aren’t together anymore. I’m upset he made me look like a fool.” She shrugged one shoulder. Izzy had always been a little introverted and in her own world, so being humiliated was especially devastating for her.
We lay in bed and talked until we both were exhausted and couldn’t keep our eyes open. It was like old times.
As soon as I woke the next day, I got to work. I talked to Mom over breakfast, then called Dad. They both agreed I could go visit Dad prom weekend. Mom booked my flight while I called Izzy’s parents to get them on board with the surprise. Then I called Casey and told her an emergency had come up, so I had to go out of town prom weekend…
THE CHIME of my phone pulled me back to the present. Thankfully, the dreadful song was over, and my phone had saved me from getting lost in one of the happiest memories of my life.
Without looking at the screen, I answered, "Hello."
"Dawson?" came a familiar male voice. I pulled the phone from my ear and glanced at the Caller ID to confirm my suspicions.
"Mr. Clark?" Though I'd seen Izzy's dad's name on the screen, I still couldn't quite believe he was calling me. It had been years since we'd talked. He probably hated me. I hated myself sometimes.
"Long time no talk, Son. I hope you're doing well," he said.
"I am, sir. I hope you are as well." My best manners came out naturally. My fingers started tapping a beat on the steering wheel while I waited for him to reveal the reason for his call.
"Look, I'll cut right to the chase since I don't know when Sue might come outside and hear me. Your dad said he mentioned our anniversary party to you. And he said there was a possibility you might come.”
Was he calling to tell me I wasn’t welcome? "Yes, sir. I hope that's all right. I've missed you guys and would love to be there for your celebration." I held my breath, waiting for him to respond.
"Of course, it's all right. You're family. Still. So… I was wondering if you could… uh… do me a favor when you come," his voice sounded uncertain.
I swallowed nervously as I imagined what sort of favor this man, who used to be like a second father to me, might ask of me. "Sure."
"Sue has always been a fan of that old Beach Boys’ song. I can't remember the name of it. But she always swooned about it when that guy sang it to his pretend wife on that show you and Izzy used to watch in reruns, Filled up House or something," he tried to explain.
"You mean Full House?" I offered.
"Maybe. Anyway, she made me watch that dang epi
sode over and over, where the long-haired, rocker guy sat at the piano and played it for his wife at their wedding."
"I know the song you're talking about." Izzy swooned over it too as I recalled.
"Do you think you can play it for Sue at the party? Like, dedicate it to her from me? There's a piano at the place where the party is," he rambled.
"I'd be honored to play it for you guys."
"I know it's a lot to ask, but can you change up the words? That last verse talks about leaving. I ain't going nowhere. So, I don't want you to sing that part."
I chuckled. "I can change it up. Make it special for you guys." It was the least I could do for the couple who’d been the best example of love for me my whole life. Maybe it could be the start of my grand romantic gesture.
"Thanks, Dawson. Make sure when you RVSP that you don't spill the beans about the secret," he reminded me.
"I won't. My lips are sealed," I assured him.
"It'll be good to see you again, Son. We've all missed you. Things just aren't the same without you around," his voice was quiet and filled with nostalgia.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I've missed you guys too. I can't wait to see you in a few weeks. Take care."
I ended the call, though I desperately wanted to pump him for information about Izzy. And Beckett.
Did her parents like him?
♪ It Only Hurts by Default
CHAPTER 17
IZZY
♪ When Love and Hate Collide by Def Leppard
A fter four songs, I was falling back in love with Dawson’s music. Maybe I’d never fallen out of love with it. Maybe I’d never…
Shaking my head, I halted my thoughts and focused on the music. I could feel every emotion Dawson experienced as he sung the lyrics. The connection between artist and creation couldn’t be denied. My appreciation of his gift had never wavered. But I wouldn’t allow myself to consider what other feelings might remain inside me.
“Izzy, even after all this time, thinking about you leaves me breathless. Being around you made my heart race. All the damn time. The reasons changed over the years. When we were kids, it raced because you were faster than me, and I was always chasing after you. When we were pre-teens, it ran wild because… well, because you were hot, and my hormones were going nuts. And then I experienced your kiss, your touch, your body, your heart, and I was a goner. My heart never slowed down again. Love is what always made it thunder in my chest. And once we took that pivotal step together, my heart’s rhythm changed. It became the beat you needed, creating the pulsing undertone you moved by. Flutterby, from the day I met you, you’ve been making me dizzy. Causing my head to spin. I didn’t even realize I was caught up in a cyclone, and had been for years, until prom night. That night was a game changer. And even when we weren’t together, it was always you who kept my heart beating, my soul hopeful, my mind dizzy. I wrote the bulk of this song when I returned to Ohio after prom night. Hope you like ‘Making Me Dizzy’.”
Prom wasn’t a time I let myself think of even once the past two years. What I’d prepared myself for being the worst night of my life turned into one of the best…
♪ You are the Reason by Calum Scott
AFTER JESSIE DUMPED ME, I really considered calling prom a wash and staying home, eating ice cream and binging on sad movies. My friends—Dani, Brittany and Brooke—convinced me to go with them. So, I spent the day getting buffed, plucked and primped, courtesy of Shelly at the beauty salon my mom went to. As I stared at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of my door, I marveled at how different I looked.
After a few calming breaths, I stepped into my closet and grabbed my dress. With a clink, I pulled the hanger from the metal bar stuffed with clothes. I quickly hooked it over the top of the open door. Digging in the back corner of my closet, I pulled out my duffel bag. My friends and I were going to a party after the prom, and I wasn’t coming home until the next day. Three weeks ago, my parents had finally conceded to let me go to the after-party with Jessie. Mom had given me the whole “don’t get pressured into anything you don’t want to do and stay safe no matter what” speech. I read between the lines. Now that Jessie and I were over, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about that. With quick hands, I packed my bag with pajamas and a change of clothes, plus my toiletries.
Satisfied I had everything I’d need, I set the bag by the door. My nimble fingers unfastened each button and carefully shrugged off the shirt, so I wouldn’t mess up my hair. I slipped off my bra because the cut of the dress didn’t allow for one. I shimmied out of the rest of my clothes. High-cut panties would keep me from having noticeable lines. They were quite sexy and would hopefully give me a boost of confidence to enter the prom dateless and newly dumped.
The plastic covering rustled as I removed my dress from its protective cocoon. My breath caught as my eyes took in the beautiful gown again. I sighed in relief that I’d let myself be talked into attending the prom anyway.
The doorbell rang downstairs. Crap. Dani, Brittany and Brooke must have just arrived. Time had gotten away from me. I stepped into the satiny pool of purplish-pink fabric and pulled up the halter top to fasten behind my neck. The bust was fitted, and the back was cut low. My dancer’s flexibility came in handy as I reached behind me to tug the zipper up. The top of the dress featured silver crystals and looked like a sky exploded with stars. As the dress flared out at my waist, the jewels cascaded into silvery butterflies scattered down the skirt. It truly was the perfect dress for me.
I grabbed my cell phone and snapped a picture of myself in the mirror. I’d send it to Dawson once we were in the car on the way to dinner. Dani’s dad had gotten us reservations at the fancy restaurant the next town over. Voices drifted up the stairs to me. Hastily, I slipped on my silver, strappy heels. They gave me just enough height, so my dress didn’t drag on the floor.
After one last glance in the mirror to check everything, from my lipstick to the crystal butterfly pins holding up my hair to the hem of my dress, I opened the door. I frowned in confusion when I heard what sounded like Mr. Anderson’s voice. Dawson must have sent him over with a flower for me or something. He was the sweetest guy ever.
As I made my way down the stairs, all conversation ceased. My eyes darted around the foyer as it came into view. It was oddly empty. My friends must not have arrived yet.
“Honey, you look beautiful,” Dad whispered in awe.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I stepped to him, and he wrapped me in a hug.
Mom dabbed the corner of her eye before she pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “Let me grab my camera.”
I turned to Dawson’s dad. “Mr. Anderson, did Dawson send you over with flowers to cheer me up?” I teased.
He chuckled. “I’m afraid not this time.” He held up his hands to show me they were empty.
From behind me, a throat cleared. “This time, I thought I’d deliver the flowers myself.”
I spun around at the familiar voice. My jaw dropped open as everything around me faded but the handsome man in the tux before me.
♪ Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top
My gaze roved over him for several lingering seconds as I tried to convince myself he was real. Shiny shoes reflected the light from the ceiling. A jet-black suit with clean pressed lines hung off his muscular frame. A cummerbund and tie in the same shade as my dress were the only spots of color on him. The smile on his face was the most arresting thing about him. It stuttered my heart and stole my breath. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and his hair was that sexy, deliberately messy style my fingers itched to sink into it.
He stepped towards me, and with one finger he pushed my jaw shut. Heat crept over my cheeks as I realized I’d been staring at him slack-jawed for endless moments.
“Guess I surprised you, huh, flutterby?”
“Yeah. How are you here? And how are you matching me?” Really, that was what I wanted to know? How he managed to match my dress?
“I’ll explain everything. I promi
se, but first…” From behind his back he pulled out a dozen roses. “These are for you.”
I took the crimson blooms and buried my nose in their velvety softness. Out of the corner of my eye, I finally registered a flash. I turned and found Mom was snapping away and had probably captured every moment of my dumbfounded response for perpetuity.
Great.
“You two stand next to each other so I can get a good picture,” Mom ordered.
We turned, and Dawson put his arm around me. My skin broke out in goosebumps where his warm hand rested on my bare back. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You look amazing. I’ll think of better descriptors later. Words are failing me because the sight of you has short-circuited my brain.”
♪ Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton
His words breathed in my ear brought a new flush to my skin. And the flashing continued to seize every second of it.
“Hey, Dad, can you hand me the corsage?” Dawson asked.
Mr. Anderson produced a clear box. Dawson flipped the lid open with trembling fingers. Nestled inside was a work of art made of orchids that matched my dress, silver ribbon and a tiny jeweled butterfly. It was beautiful. I held out my arm, so he could slip it on my wrist, all while Mom continued to be shutter happy.
“I didn’t get you a boutonniere. I’m sorry,” I said sheepishly.
“Yes, you did,” Dad said with a wink and produced a small box. Inside was a creation that matched mine but had silver decorative wire swirls instead of a butterfly. As I gripped his lapel, trying to pin the floral creation to him, he leaned down and whispered, “No boob stabbage.” He winked at me.
That one comment erased all my nerves. This was Dawson. The night would be perfect. I had no reason to worry or be nervous.
As we posed for more photos, Dawson kept his arm wrapped around me. His thumb traced patterns on my skin, creating a delicious distraction. It was probably just a fidgety reaction on his part. He most likely had no idea what his innocent touch was doing to me.
Notes of the Heart: Book 2 of the Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Page 20