by Jen Luerssen
Frank shrugs and takes a long drink of his scotch. His sense of humor is legendary. If you can get Frank to laugh it’s like winning the lottery, super exciting but the chances of getting hit by lightning are more likely. We finish up our drinks and head to the performance area. It’s not a stage, but a designated space.
I’m sweating and exuberant. Singing is my true love and if I could afford to do it exclusively, I would. Alas, the world is not clamoring for a quirky jazz singer who rearranges rock songs. We’ve finished our first set and are back at the bar. I’ve had to ditch the fox tail because I feel like it’s strangling me.
I feel a hand on my back and I stiffen a little. Sometimes I get ballsy fans that think they can touch me, but usually people that approach me just say something nice about how they loved my version of “Karma Police.”
“You are a magical woman,” the familiar voice whispers into my ear and I shiver, nipples instantly hard. Javier.
I turn to him and holy John, Paul, George, and Ringo, speaking of magical. “Javi, you’re here?” I ask, obviously, but really the sight of him is making my tongue swollen. He is wearing a suit, a fucking well-tailored suit.
He smiles at me like I’m not acting like a weirdo. “I’m here with my father. He loves the seared sea scallops and the music. I had no idea you were singing until we got here.” He reaches out and releases a strand of hair that is stuck to my lipstick. The familiarity of this tiny gesture throws me off even more. “Lucky me.”
“Ha, okay, yeah,” I stutter, trying to find my cucumber. Plus, this is Javi, my friend and study buddy. I take a cleansing breath and try again. “Hi. Okay, I’m over the shock of seeing you here and in a suit.”
He chuckles. “I can be fancy too, Lia.” He gestures to me and I laugh with him.
“Where’s your dad? I want to meet one of the people who spawned Javier. A gentleman at 21, an anomaly for the ages.”
“He’s at our table upstairs. He’d love to meet you since he’s already declared his love for you several times during your first set.” I blush. “I don’t think he believed me when I said you were my friend.”
“Is he as charming as you? I may be in trouble.”
“Oh, you’re definitely in trouble,” he says with a wink. Jesus Axl Christ.
I place my hands on my hips and raise my chin. “Pretty sure I can handle your dad.”
Javier takes my hand, shaking his head, and we make our way to his table upstairs and almost behind the performing area. This solves the mystery of me not spotting Javier earlier. Although I don’t tend to focus in on people in the audience too much, it can be distracting. Javier is definitely distracting.
The man at the table is in his late 40s and I see immediately where Javier gets his looks. For the love of Santana, he is in a suit too and when he stands to greet me, he towers over me. I’m searching for that god damned cucumber again.
“Eres divina,” he says in a deep voice, then bows to kiss my hand.
“Papa, please, ease up on the charm,” Javier scolds.
I swat at him with my free hand. “It’s okay, what did he say?”
“That you are divine,” he says through gritted teeth and I find that so endearing. “Lia, this is my father, Antonio Rojas. Papa, this is my friend, Lia.”
Antonio has not made a move to release my hand. “What a pleasure, you have the voice of an angel, my dear,” he says to me in a thick accent. “Don’t mention this one to your mother.”
Javi has told me a little about his family. His parents are not together but it was a friendly divorce if there is such a thing. They are both from Colombia and immigrated to the United States when they were teenagers. He grew up in Texas but moved to California with his dad at 16 after the divorce. Javier graduated high school early and wanted to work a bit and establish residency in California before starting school. Unfortunately, he ended up working for longer than he wanted since his father injured himself at work and Javier had to help support them. Once his dad was back in action, Javier did some traveling and then finally started school this year at 21. His mom is still in Texas and he speaks with her often, but he has mentioned she can be a bit overbearing. Javier and his dad seem to have a close relationship.
“Thank you, Mr. Rojas, I’m honored that you think so. I hope I’d pass muster with Javier’s mother,” I say and give a slight tug to my hand and he releases it.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be the one to tell her about you.” He gives me a wink, not unlike the one Javier gave me earlier.
“I hope you stick around for the next set.”
“Of course, Javier and I will order dessert and stay a while.”
“Oh, man, the apple has not fallen far!” I nudge Javier with my shoulder and he nods in agreement.
“Papa runs a clinic on charm and I’m the original student.”
“Well, I better get downstairs where I can handle all of this suaveness from afar. Seriously, you two in these suits, it’s not fair.”
Javi smiles and bends to kiss my cheek I feel it all the way to my toes. “Break a leg, Lia.”
Antonio nods to me and I walk unsteadily back down the stairs.
What the holy heck was that?
Mike on a Bike
Staring at my ceiling Monday morning, I try to get myself straight. When I decided to go back to school, I promised myself to make that my focus and number one priority. To be fair to myself, I could not have seen Mike or Javier coming. I thought for sure I’d make some school pals but the complete incompetency of our Bio teacher has brought me two close friends and a possible boyfriend. I think over both events from yesterday. I was on quite the high from the date with Mike. He really is adorable, funny, and athletic. We click big time as friends. I’m going to see what happens with the physical chemistry. If I’m being honest, the cheek kiss from Javi got my muffin warming a bit more than the one Mike gave me on the lips. I shiver just thinking about Javier in that freaking suit.
A lukewarm shower helps me wake up and wash away some doubts. Once dressed, I head to the kitchen and make myself some tea with honey. I sang my tits off last night and I need to take care of my voice. I’ll drink a gallon of coffee later. Paul walks in looking amazing. He’s finally been able to put his talent with language to good use. When he was a kid, his mom noticed that he picked up the Spanish that she was learning using audio tapes way faster than she did. Paul will tell you one of the only things he’s thankful to his parents for is their push for him to go to Spanish, French, and Japanese lessons when he was younger. Little did they know that he loved to go because he was in love with his tutor, his male tutor. P’s family are Mormons and being gay is a big time no-no in their eyes. He went to Brigham Young University like a good boy and that’s where he said he really was able to experiment with his sexuality. He was fortunate to have a supportive sister and friends so he never felt ashamed of who he was. His parents, on the other hand, are not supportive and have disowned him and refuse to acknowledge his existence. Their loss, Paul is amaze-Hall and Oats.
“Wow, I love navy blue on you, sexy beast,” I say. “Where are you off to today?” Paul is an interpreter for a local tech company and he travels around the Bay Area and abroad.
He smoothes the front of his suit and does some jazz hands thing. “Las Vegas, baby. I’ll be there all week at a conference.”
“What? When did this trip happen? I’m not prepared to be P-free for a whole week.” I push my bottom lip out for effect.
“Awe, Lioness, I told you I got a promotion and am now in charge of translating for all executives. So where they go, I follow. Unfortunately, one of the execs is a pantser.”
“Heh?” I ask gracefully.
“He likes to be ‘spontaneous’ so he doesn’t plan ahead. He goes by the seat of his pants.” Paul gestures to his ass. “Pantser.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing, Peach,” I say folding my arms.
“’Tis, lassie. Google that shit. Anyway, Dante called me last night
at 10 pm and told me he was going to this international conference in Vegas and for me to pack my bags ‘cause I’m coming with.”
“Dante? Ooh, tell me about Dante,” I tease.
“Dante is the CTO of the company is a brilliant and has a super gorgeous technical mind,” he says, a tiny bit dreamily.
My eyebrows go up. “Super gorgeous?”
“I know, he’s a regular handsome millionaire they write romance books about. It’s almost a little cliché.” He shrugs.
“Is he a regular handsome, gay millionaire?” I put my hands together in hopeful prayer.
Paul laughs and grabs my hands. “In my wildest Vegas dreams, yes. In reality, I have no idea. He’s well dressed and hot, but I’ve only met him a few times and there is zero recon on his boom boom prefs.”
I sigh. “I need some boom boom.”
“I’m aware of that, Li-Li. You are going to break that poor vibrator of yours if you don’t get on some dick soon.”
“It’s sexy when you say dirty stuff in that suit, P,” I say folding my hands under my chin. “Maybe I’ll get on Mike’s bike soon.”
“Just as long as you’re not fantasizing about forearms while you do that sweet Mike. Be fair,” he scolds.
I roll my eyes but he’s right, I need to be fair to Mike. My plan is to go out with him again and then make a move to see if there’s chemistry. If chemistry exists, then I will jump on that dick, post haste.
Paul gathers his briefcase (so weird and adult) and his overnight bag and makes his way to the door.
“Be good, Pickles, and if you’re not I want deets, despite the Vegas rules.”
“Of course, my little perv-princess,” he smiles devilishly at me. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your M/M reading stash on your Kindle.”
“You go through my Kindle? That’s more of a violation than reading my texts!”
“Guess, I shouldn’t tell you I figured out your ‘Zon password either.”
I throw my spoon at him and he laughs, dodging it and closing the door.
Lia: I had fun yesterday, dinner tonight?
Mike: I did too, dinner sounds good, study after at my place?
Lia: If study is a code word, then YES!
Mike: Ha! I wish I was that smooth.
Lia: I’ll take that as an affirmative. Meet at Giorgio’s? 7?
Mike: See u there. ;)
It felt risky to get a little flirty with Mike, but I feel like I need to go all in to see if there’s something there. I head out to spend the day with my little ditties. I’m happy to spend the day at the park playing and pretending that I have no cares in the world. Kids are freeing in that way. Caring for Jack and Diane has been an eye opener. Not only are they super cute, but they are smart, creative and make me want to be a better human. They also think I’m the best singer ever, did I mention they were geniuses?
Since it’s a nice day and in the 70s, I take them to the beach. We run around, splash in the surf, freeze our toes off and then eat snacks.
“Wee-ah, ding a dong for me!” Jack demands and Diane cheers on this request.
“Of course, Jackster, any requests?”
“‘Cupid,’” Diane squeals.
“‘Eight Bisbehabing,’” Jack says and I laugh.
“Hmm, I’ll start with “Ain’t Misbehaving” and then I’ll sing “Cupid” for my encore.” They both clap and I start singing to my biggest fans.
When I get home around 6:30, I’m sandy, windblown and pleasantly exhausted. I change my top but keep my jeans on to meet with Mike. I’m starving and will probably want a whole pizza myself. I head out to walk to Giorgio’s, a local pizza place. As a New Jersey native, I am, by law, a pizza snob. When I moved to San Francisco, I was desperate to find a pizza place that was half-way decent. Giorgio’s is that place.
It’s pretty busy, even for a Monday. The decor is cheesy Italian and I love it. The tablecloths are red and white checked vinyl, fake grape vines hang from the lattice hanging from the ceiling and there are chianti bottles hanging on the walls, as well as Italian countryside landscapes. It smells like pizza heaven and my mouth waters.
Mike is sitting in the waiting area looking at his phone and he doesn’t see me come in. I decide to amp up my flirting so I slide onto his lap and kiss his cheek.
“Well, hello there.” He smiles as he leans back to look at me.
“Hi.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him on the mouth. No tongue, but just a light brush of our lips, mine soft and his surprised and pliant.
I feel his hands lock behind my back and he pulls me in to kiss me again. Still no tongue, it’s a family restaurant after all. “Hi,” he responds, eyes glassy.
Jumping from his lap, we follow the hostess to our booth. We sit opposite each other because we are on a second date. Mike wins points for not trying to slide in next to me. We chat about our days and he tells me about his day at the beach too. His involved a wetsuit and kelp in an inconvenient place, instead of juice boxes and sand toys.
After stuffing our faces with pizza, salad, and beer, we walk to his apartment. He holds my hand the whole way. He lives about ten blocks away but it’s a nice night and it makes me feel better about the extra cheese and pesto pizza.
“Where are your books?” he asks.
“Books?” I know what he means but I’m a bit disappointed. “Oh, you really wanted to study.”
He laughs at my exaggerated pouty lip and pulls me close to his side. “Making out it is. I prefer that to studying the digestive system.”
“Hmm, well if it helps, you can list off the parts of my mouth while your tongue is jammed down my esophagus.”
“That’s quite the offer, but I’d rather concentrate on one thing at a time.”
I pull on his hand and he stops. “Mike, I’m having trouble not making a million anatomy jokes right now.”
His eyes crinkle when he smiles and it’s adorable. “Don’t let me stop you from talking about your body parts or mine.”
We walk faster and by the time we get to his place, I’m ready for all our parts to meet each other. Once in the apartment, he grabs my face and kisses me fiercely. It’s hot and I’m thinking the chemistry is there and I get excited for some boom boom or just some boom.
“OH MICHAEL, STOP EATING THIS GIRL’S FACE!” Oh my good lord, someone is shouting.
Mike steps back from me, looking beyond frustrated. “Hey, Mrs. Cheang.”
“IS IT THE HOT SAUCE?” she shouts and grabs my chin inspecting my face.
Hot Sauce
I can’t stop laughing. I’m sitting on Mike’s bed and I’m losing my shit right now. We chatted a bit with Mrs. Cheang, who Mike thought would be gone to her sister’s to play cards already. She shouted at me the whole time but was lovely. Mike explained that she had hearing issues but refused to get them checked.
“If you’re going to pee yourself, try not to do it on my bed. I just changed the sheets,” Mike says. I laugh harder because, oh my Ozzy, he changed his sheets, and he was eating my face, and he lives with an elderly Chinese woman and it’s just too much. The whole situation is just ridiculous.
When I’ve finally calmed down, Mike hands me a tissue, since tears are streaming down my face. He is sitting very close to me on his newly made bed and his warmth is comforting in my hysterics.
“Oh, Mike, I apologize but that was the funniest thing. She shout-asked me if I had hot sauce on my face since it’s your favorite.”
“It is,” he remarks dryly. “Your mouth is a close second.”
“Oh,” I say breathlessly. Things turn not funny quickly and then Mike and I are making out on his bed, horizontally.
Now that we are here, kissing, touching, I feel the seed of doubt. I know, I hate me too. Mike is a bonafide unicorn, cute, funny, and nice. I want there to be chemistry, and there is, but it’s not an explosive level. I’m distracted by everything else in the room, the surfboard leaning against his bookshelf, the 70s style ceiling light, and I’m ve
ry aware of the scratchy comforter we are laying on top of.
Mike has moved from my mouth and is nibbling on my neck. “You okay?” he asks, sensing my distraction.
I sigh, enjoying the closeness. I miss touching someone else. Since Jane and her family have moved, my physical affection has been from Jack and Diane mostly. I haven’t been touched by a man since the kitchen floor massacre and I’m sad now because I’m going to have to make this awesome guy feel bad.
“I am, just being distracted by everything.” I sit up and he puts his arms behind his head on the pillow. “You are a good kisser.”
“Not good enough to keep you focused though.”
I shrug “I’m sorry, I’m a little fried from my beach day, I guess.”
It’s a cop out for sure and when he smiles at me this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s get you home then.” He jumps up from the bed and I follow him out.
On the street, I hail a cab and turn to Mike. We’ve been in a weird silence since we came out here. “See you tomorrow.” I stretch up and kiss his chin and squeeze his hand.
He nods and I get in the cab. I quickly roll the window down. “Mike, I had fun and I like you.”
Both of these things are true and I hope he knows I’m sincere.
“Goodnight, Lia,” he says and gives me a half-smile.
For the next two weeks, Mike and I study, go out, and we kiss a few times. It’s clear to me that this isn’t going anywhere. I need to end it but I don’t want to make things awkward. I knew this was the risk when I agreed to go out with him. I think he knows too, which is why he hasn’t pressed me to go past kissing.
I arrive to class early and the door is open, weird for Carol who basically makes it her life’s work to be late every day. I venture into the classroom and there’s a man in a white coat. He’s writing directions on the whiteboard. There are a few other students sprinkled throughout the room looking confused. I sit down, take out my book and notebook, and my science pen. Yes, I have a different pen for each class, so what? I take my school supplies very seriously.