by Amber Garza
Disappointment sinks into my stomach at her words. I don’t know why I expected her to say anything different. Every time she’s confessed her feelings for me I’ve shot her down. Maybe I finally pushed her too far. Just because I finally decided to give her a shot, it didn’t mean she would offer it to me.
“Beckett, what are we doing here?” Star asks.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re having coffee.” As if on cue, the espresso machine roars to life behind the counter.
“No, I mean, why now? Why tonight? You hardly say two words to me for weeks, and then today you want me to come early to practice. Then you ask me out for coffee. What gives?”
“I think I’d like to go back to when you were complimenting me and calling me sweet,” I banter back, hoping to elicit a laugh or even just a slight smile. Instead, she presses her lips together and stares at me deadpan. “Okay, the truth is that I wanted you to come early to practice with me because…” I pause unsure of how honest I want to be. “I told you why. I want to do a couple of acoustic songs at the festival to give us an edge over the other bands. I know that Cold Fever will only do rock songs, there are a couple of other rock bands and I think a couple of country bands.”
“So this is all just about the band?”
I want to say yes. Only that’s not entirely true and at this point I feel like I owe Star the truth. “No, it’s not.” Leaning over, I prop my elbows up on the table. “I like you, Star. I have since the first moment I saw you. And I know I’m not great at showing it, but I’d like to change that.”
“You would?” Star’s face holds a skeptical look.
“Yeah, I would.” I exhale, glad that’s over with.
Star quietly takes a sip of her coffee. Then she sets the cup down and looks up at me with a serious look. “Beckett, I’m really sorry that I went behind your back to talk to Dante. I never should’ve done that.”
“I get it. I know I haven’t exactly been the easiest guy to talk to about things.”
“Still. I feel bad.” Star runs her fingertip over the rim of her mug, and I find myself imagining her fingers tracing my flesh. I shake my head and force my thoughts to cleaner subjects.
“I might have overreacted a little.” I give her a lopsided smile.
“You? Overreact? No, not at all,” she jokes.
“Yeah, you’re right. It was completely justified.” I smile to let her know I’m teasing.
She giggles again, and it’s so cute I can’t help myself. I reach across the table and place my hand over hers. “I’m not sure where to go from here, Star.”
“I find that hard to believe based on your track record with women.”
“This is different, and this is new to me. Help me out here, Star.”
“Okay.” Star sits up straighter. “Does this mean you want me to teach you to get close to people again?”
“Not people. Just you.”
She smiles. “Well, you can start by asking me out on a date.”
“A date, huh?”
“Yes, you know like when a guy takes a girl out for dinner or movie or something?”
“Ah, yes. I have heard of those.” I chuckle. Then I sober up and look deeply into her dark brown eyes. “Star, would you like to go out with me?”
“When?”
“Saturday night?”
“I’d love to. Pick me up at seven.”
“It’s a date.”
23
Star
“I still can’t believe he asked you out on a date.” Lola walks next to me as we make our way across campus. The early morning breeze kicks up her hair and it feathers against her pale skin. A few students walk in front of us, their heads down. To my right, I catch sight of a couple sitting on the grass bent over their textbooks. “Ryker said that’s like a first for Beckett.”
My insides coil into knots when I remember our conversation about the girl Dante stole from him. Again I wonder why everyone is so secretive about it. Clearly there had been another girl in Beckett’s life. Why the charade?
“I know I’ve been kind of skeptical about Beckett,” Lola says.
I turn my head to her and give her an incredulous look. “Kind of?”
“Okay, so I’ve been a lot skeptical, but I have to say that I think he really likes you. I mean, you’ve given him every reason to run away and yet he keeps coming back. ”
“Gee, thanks.” We turn a corner, and the wind sprays over me causing me to shiver. I pull my jacket tighter around my body. It sure is colder here than back home.
“You know what I mean.” Star nudges me in the side. “I’m just saying that maybe I was wrong about him.”
“Yeah, he definitely surprised me last night.” Warmth fills my insides when I recall how he touched my hand and looked into my eyes like he could see right through to my soul.
“So what are you going to wear?”
Leave it Lola to think about clothes. I sigh. “I hadn’t even thought about it actually. I don’t even know where he’s taking me.”
Lola links arms with me and grins devilishly. “It’s fine. Leave the wardrobe selection to me.”
I glance at Lola’s black belted jacket, colorful scarf, jeans and knee high boots. Then I peer down at my oversized jacket zipped over my bulky sweater. “Okay, yeah, that might be good.”
A group of students walk past us, going in the opposite direction. I catch a whiff of cologne that vaguely reminds me of Beckett. It causes my heart to skip a beat. I can’t wait for tomorrow night. Picturing Beckett’s perfect lips, I imagine how they’ll feel against mine, and just the thought of it steals my breath away.
“Hello. Earth to Star.” Lola’s voice snaps me back into focus.
I inhale sharply and look at her.
“Whoa. Where’d you go?”
“Just thinking.” I lower my gaze to the scuffed toe of my boots.
“Thinking about Beckett I bet.” She winks, and my cheeks heat up.
When am I not thinking about Beckett?
Yesterday I couldn’t wait for tonight to get here. But now that it is, I feel sick. My hands tremble as I button my pants, and it takes me several tries since my fingers are slick with moisture. I’ve never been this nervous before a date. Then again, I’ve never gone out with a guy like Beckett before. In fact, I never dreamed a guy like Beckett would ever ask me out. It’s like a dream, really. Now let’s just hope I don’t make a total fool of myself tonight, so we can have a second date.
“Looking sexy,” Lola coos. “I love that outfit on you.”
“You are the one who picked it out,” I remind her with a smile. Using my fingers, I smooth down my hair. Glancing at myself in the full length mirror we have on the door, I turn in circles to catch my reflection. Since Beckett assured me it was casual, I’m wearing jeans, boots, and a sheer flowing shirt. I have on my favorite earrings, and I borrowed one of Lola’s necklaces. My heart hammers in my chest, and at first I don’t even notice the knock on the door.
Lola gives me a funny look as she steps forward to answer it. As she opens the door, I swipe my hands down the thigh of my jeans. My breath hitches when I see Beckett standing in the doorway, wearing jeans and a white shirt that clings to his body and exposes almost the entirety of his arm tattoo. He smiles at me, and I force my legs to move forward even though it feels like I’m wading through mud.
“You look gorgeous,” he says with a grin.
“Thanks,” I say, as I reach for my purse.
Lola gives me a pointed look, and then gently shoves me out the door. “Okay, you two, have fun.”
I stumble into the hallway as Lola slams the door behind us. “Sorry about her,” I mumble. “She has control issues.”
“Clearly.” Beckett grabs my hand and threads his fingers through mine. “Ready?”
Biting my lip, I nod. He guides me out of the dorms and toward his truck. The parking lot is quiet, the night air still. Even though it’s chilly outside, I feel like I’m burning up. Beckett’s hand
engulfing mine is sure distracting. With as much as I’m sweating, I feel bad for the guy. I hope he’s not totally grossed out. When we reach his truck he releases my hand to open the door for me.
I raise my eyebrow. “Such a gentleman. Who knew?”
“Just wait.” He winks as I slide into the car. My heart flutters in my chest as he goes around the truck to get in the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going?” I ask, when he pulls out onto the street.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” He keeps his gaze trained on the road ahead.
“For a guy who doesn’t date, you certainly seem sure of yourself,” I joke. But really I’m fishing, hoping he’ll let something slip.
“I’m always sure of myself, Star.”
I relax back in my seat, allowing some of the nervousness to wash away. Now that Beckett and I are bantering, everything seems normal - comfortable even. Sighing in satisfaction, I roll my head in Beckett’s direction. I take in his profile in the darkness, as lights from other cars flicker over his skin. His muscular arms grip the steering wheel, and I imagine what they would feel like wrapped around me. My insides dance at the thought. Afraid he’ll catch me staring, I turn my head toward the window. When we come upon a familiar street, my shoulders tighten. Flicking on his blinker, Beckett confirms my suspicion.
“You’re taking me to your parents’ house?”
“Don’t worry. They’re not home tonight. Tate took them to dinner.”
“I feel like I’m back in high school. So are we, like, going to listen to music and make out in your room?” Once the words are out, I’m shocked by my own boldness.
“You wish.” Beckett winks as he pulls into his parents’ driveway. He cuts the engine, pulls his keys out of the ignition and looks at me. “There are some things I want to show you, Star.”
His face is close to mine, and my eyes lower to his lips. If only he’d just move forward a little. I want to kiss him so bad. But instead, he pulls away and opens the door. I swallow hard and hop out of the passenger side. Beckett swaggers toward me, tucking his hand into mine. Grateful for the affection, I smile at him as we walk toward the house. Beckett enters through the garage.
“Don’t you have a key?” I ask.
“Don’t need one. What I want to show you is in the garage.”
I freeze. “Please don’t tell me we’re going to practice.”
“Star.” Beckett looks pointedly at me. “What kind of guy do you think I am? I asked you out on a date, and a date is what I’m going to give you.”
“Okay.” I smile. “Just making sure, because so far this is unlike any date I’ve ever been on.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I chuckle at his smug attitude. Much to my chagrin, he drops my hand and walks up to a cabinet against the wall. He unhooks the cabinet and the doors swing open. “Remember that night we wrote together in my apartment?”
“How could I forget? It was the night you told me I was terrible at writing lyrics.”
He runs a hand over his head. “It was also the night that I told you about my dad. Do you remember that, or do you only remember bad things?”
I smirk. “No, I remember that too.”
“And it was the night that you told me I needed to learn how to be close to people.”
“Ah, yes, the deal you broke,” I remind him.
He waggles his fingers at me. “You really like to harp on the negative, don’t you?” Stepping closer, he swipes a fingertip across my cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”
My body goes numb from his touch, and I lose the ability to speak.
“You were right. I’m not good at letting people in, Star, but you make me want to change. I want to open up to you.” He reaches into the cabinet and pulls out an old guitar.
I’m a little confused, but wait for him to continue.
“This was the first guitar I ever played.” Beckett rolls it around in his fingers, a faraway look on his face. “My dad got it for me when I was just a little kid. Dad used to spend hours teaching me how to play. Those were some of the best times of my life.”
“That’s cool. Neither of my parents have a musical bone in their body. I actually taught myself how to play piano. I still don’t think they completely understand my fascination with music.”
Beckett nods. “I don’t think my parents understand me anymore either.”
“What changed?”
“A lot.” A funny look crosses Beckett’s face and then he sets down the guitar. Ignoring my question he pulls out some rolled up posters. He unrolls one of them and holds it up. The slick paper keeps trying to roll back up, so he has to keep pulling it tight. “These are posters I collected of my dad’s band. Anytime I find one, I buy it.”
I think of the other night at my dorm room when Beckett told me about why his dad quit the band. Resting my hand on his arm, I look into his eyes. “You’re really proud of him, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” He smiles, his eyes alight with excitement. “He got to live his dream, even if it was only for a little while.”
“I’m sure you’ll get the chance too,” I assure him, my hand still resting on his arm. I’m so glad he hasn’t shaken it off yet.
“I hope so.” He whirls around to face the cabinet again, and my hand reluctantly slips from his arm. I wish the moment hadn’t been broken, but I have to admit I am curious as to what he’ll show me next. “Here is a picture of my very first performance.” He flashes a photograph at me.
I snatch it from him, my gaze connecting with the glossy image. Laughing, I cover my mouth with my hand. “Look at your hair.”
“My brother always wore his long. I was just trying to look like him.” He grabs the picture from me.
“He still wears his long,” I say.
“I know. He’s had the same look for years. What can I say? He’s stuck in the nineties.”
“Yeah, that’s like my mom. Only she’s stuck in the eighties, I think. She still thinks big hair is in.”
“If I’m like that I hope my kid’ll knock some sense into me.” Beckett puts the photograph back in the cabinet.
“I thought you didn’t want kids,” I say, remembering what he said the night of the party.
Beckett turns to me. “I didn’t say that. I just said that I wouldn’t give up my dream for a family.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“I used to think so. Now I’m wondering if maybe there’s a way to have both.”
I want to ask him when this big epiphany came about, but I lose my courage. Instead, I peer behind him. “Anything else in there you want to show me?”
He rubs his stomach. “No. Now we go eat. Then I have somewhere else I want to take you.”
“Sounds good to me.” I hadn’t even realized I was hungry, but now that he mentioned food I find myself ravenous.
24
Beckett
After dinner I drive Star to a place I’ve never shared with anyone else. To a place I’ve never wanted to share with anyone else. I marvel at the fact that I even want to share it with Star. When I pull off the road and park in the middle of nowhere, I see the slight lift of Star’s brows and it makes me want to laugh. I wonder what she’s thinking inside the pretty little head of hers. All around us is a vast expanse of dried grass and big leafy trees. The street is quiet, and there isn’t another car in sight.
“Somehow I thought you would take me somewhere a little nicer to have your way with me.”
“You seem to be pretty obsessed with that idea. You must really want me.” I nudge her gently in the side.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re the one who brought me here.”
“It’s not what you think, Star.” I open the car door. “C’mon.”
The air has cooled down considerably, and Star shivers as we walk on the crunchy grass. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. Her hair falls against my arm, emitting a floral scent. Our feet clomp on the h
ard dirt and crackle over leaves. When we get to a large gnarled tree, I stop. Pointing with my fingers, I find the place where I carved my initials into the trunk.
“Does that stand for Beckett Nash?” Star squints her eyes as she reads the crude letters. “Should I be looking for a girl’s initials somewhere?” Her eyes rove over the rest of the trunk.
“No. I didn’t come here with a girl. I’ve actually never brought anyone here.”
Star’s gaze sweeps the desolate field. “Where is here exactly?”
“Sit down.” I slide down the tree trunk until my butt hits the ground. Star plops down next to me, bringing her sweet intoxicating scent with her. “When I was in high school, Tate left home and took off on a tour with his band. A few months later he got a DUI. After that he sort of spiraled out of control. Pretty soon he was using drugs, and doing a bunch of stupid stuff that eventually got him kicked out of his band. My parents were really upset about it, and they decided that I should stop spending so much time on music and find something else to focus on.” I scratch the back of my neck. “I think they thought that music was the root of all of Tate’s problems. So I used to sneak off and come here with my guitar. I’d sit right here at this tree and play. I also wrote songs. In fact, several of the songs we play I wrote sitting right here.”
Star’s hand finds mine. “Is Tate still using?”
“No, he’s clean now.”
“That’s good.” Star rests her head on my shoulder. “I guess that’s why you’re such a stickler for your no drinking or drugs rule with the band, huh?”
“That’s part of it, yes.” My stomach clenches when I think of the other reason. That’s a story I’m not quite ready to share. “It’s just that everyone in my family let something derail their chances of making it big in the music industry. And it’s a shame too, because they were so talented.”
“I’m sorry, Beckett.” Star’s fingertips trace the inside of my palm, and the motion drives me wild.
I clear my throat. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
“It’s okay to admit that something upsets you, Beckett.”