Fae giggled at him as the waiter finally set their food down in front of them. “You're not supposed to ask a lady those types of questions, you know?”
“Forgive me,” Benji chuckled. “It's just that, the last female I found myself spending time with was very nearly jail bait, so I just thought I'd check.”
Fae blushed at the obvious implication of those words. And then she looked down at her plate, anxious to think about something else. “Now that's what I'm talking about,” she said as she gestured to her cheeseburger. “I'm starving!”
Benji laughed again. “Me too,” he agreed as he carefully took the pickle slices off of his own cheeseburger.
“You don't want your pickles?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
He made an unpleasant face as he shook his head at her.
“I'll trade you those pickles for my tomatoes,” she offered with narrowed eyes. And Benji smiled at the laughter in her voice.
“You've got a deal!”
They traded toppings and fixed their sandwiches in a comfortable, amused silence. And Benji smiled as he watched her bite into her burger and savor the taste of it for a moment. He liked the fact that she wasn't afraid to eat like a lot of the girls he dated. He took a bite of his own burger and slowly looked her over as he chewed. A multitude of raven curls framed her face, bringing out her pretty, pale blue eyes set against alabaster skin. The rim of her ears were practically encrusted with tiny earrings, at least six or seven piercings in each ear, he noted. And that diamond chip in her nose completed the picture. She wasn't what one would think of as traditionally beautiful, but there was something so pretty about her. There was an almost ethereal quality to her loveliness. Her features were delicate and airy. Almost unearthly, sort of like the faeries she was named after, and Benji was beguiled by her.
Fae popped a french fry into her mouth and smiled at her dinner companion. Could he be any more adorable? He was so soft-spoken and humble most of the time, and she found him to be really easy to talk to. She couldn't believe she had told him about her mom. That was the first time she had talked about it in almost eight years. Normally whenever someone asked about her tattoo she just gave them a non-answer. It was no one's business but her own. But with Benji she had felt safe to talk about it. Maybe because of his own overdose experience. Or maybe because she wanted to remind him how lucky he was to have survived it. She wished she could tell him how scared she had been when she had heard the news of his overdose when they were in England. She would never forget that terrifying night. She was a complete and total basket case until Noah Ivory took the time to talk to her a few days later and tell her that Benji was doing okay.
She was so infatuated with him, and she knew it. And she knew that she shouldn't be here with him now. Not feeling the way she did about him. But she couldn't help herself. She knew already, as much as she tried to fight it, that her interest in Benji was so much more than purely professional. And she knew all the reasons why this was a really bad idea – his drug issues being the main one. But she couldn't seem to stop herself. She wanted to be close to him, to learn everything about him. And for the first time since she had started working as a backline technician, she wanted a man to think of her as more than just one of the guys.
Trying hard to push that thought from her mind, she ate another french fry as she looked up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he answered her, taking another bite of his burger. And he grew curious when she hesitated.
“How did you end up in foster care?” she asked quietly. “I know you've mentioned in interviews and stuff that you grew up in the system but … I've never heard how you got there.”
Benji took a deep breath as he stared at her for a minute, swallowing his mouthful. And then he took a sip of his Root Beer.
“I'm sorry, I really shouldn't pry. Just forget I asked,” she said quickly, feeling embarrassed. “You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not.”
“No, it's not that,” Benji stated as he set his glass back down. “I just, uh … no one's asked me that in a really long time, that's all. I was really young when I went into the system. I have a few vague memories of my mother, but that's about it. I had Mike help me to petition the state of Pennsylvania to see my records a few years back. Found out that she was an addict herself, and most likely a prostitute. And that I was taken away from her and placed into the system at the age of five.” He shrugged his shoulders at her, and then popped another french fry into his mouth.
“Oh.” Fae stared at him for a moment as she munched on a pickle slice. Then she smiled once more. “Are your memories of her good ones?”
Benji's eyes met hers blankly for a second, and her pale blue peepers seemed to bore into him. He suddenly felt as though he were in a confessional. “No, they're not,” he said simply. Then he paused a beat before he said, “I was taken away from her because someone reported her to Child Services. For abuse.”
“Oh.” Fae was stunned. And she was beginning to grow really sorry for asking. She didn't want to upset him or to bring up bad memories for him. “Benji, I'm so sorry. I … I shouldn't have asked.”
He smiled softly at her. “It's okay. I don't remember much. I have vague memories of … being scared. Being hit. But I mean, it could have been worse, you know? I could have stayed with her and she could have beat me well into my teens. Who knows where I'd be today if my grandmother hadn't turned her in.”
“Your grandmother?” Fae asked. And the surprise in her voice was evident. “She reported her own daughter?” Benji nodded his head as he chewed another mouthful of his cheeseburger. “Well, if you had a grandmother … why didn't they place you with her? Or some other family?”
“There was no other family,” he said after he swallowed. “And she was ill. The old woman, I mean. From what I gathered from my records, she died shortly after I was removed from the home. And there was never any father of record so …” He shrugged as his voice trailed off.
“Oh, my God, Benji,” Fae sighed. “I'm so sorry.
He smiled at her. “It's alright. It happened a long time ago. It's over. Another lifetime,” he shrugged. “Another person. And the way I see it, the old woman did me a favor before she died. She had the decency to try and do right by her grandson before she left this world, you know?”
“Yeah,” Fae said softly. “That's a healthy way to look at things, I guess.” They ate in silence for a while, and then she asked. “Did you have a good experience in the system?”
Benji froze slightly as he wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Um … no.”
He hesitated a little as he slowly placed the napkin back on the table. And when he looked up at Fae, her pale blue eyes were boring into his. Why did her eyes make him want to tell her everything? He didn't want to talk anymore. Not about his past. And yet, he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop. She was just such a good listener. So open and non-judgmental.
“I was in and out of different homes for a few years,” he began. “Usually, what got me tossed out was fighting. But sometimes it was stealing cigarettes or booze from my foster parents,” he smiled, and Fae giggled. “Anyway … right before I turned thirteen, I was placed in this one home. The foster parents there had two biological sons. And the oldest one was about seventeen at the time, and I thought he was the coolest cat around, you know? He had this really great collection of music. I'm talking AC/DC, Led Zeppelin. Aerosmith and Metallica. Great stuff from the 80s like Dokken and Anthrax and Guns N Roses … I mean, the list went on and on. It was awesome! And he used to let me come to his room and listen to his CDs. He was taking bass lessons at the time, and I would sit and listen as he went over his lessons and he'd play along with his favorite songs, you know?”
Fae smiled as she listened to him recount his story. It seemed to be a good memory for him, and she wondered briefly why he had answered 'no' to her earlier question.
“I couldn't think of a cooler musical instrument to play,” he t
old her as he smiled. “For me, the bass was like love at first sight. I mean John Paul Jones and Cliff Burton … man, I wanted to be just like those guys!”
Fae laughed at him. “You are just like those guys!”
Benji smiled bashfully at her. “Aw, shucks, ma'am. You're gonna make me blush,” he said quietly, and she giggled some more.
“So … why did you say you didn't have a good experience in foster care?” she asked. “That sounds like a very good experience.”
Benji smiled sadly at her question, and then nodded his head. “Yeah. It was a good experience,” he agreed softly. “Until it wasn't.” She looked at him with a puzzled frown, and he continued. “He would teach me sometimes. Let me mess around with his bass, and teach me from his lessons and show me what he had learned. And I took to it like a fish takes to water, you know? It was just … fate, I guess.” He paused for a moment and scratched his whiskers, thoughtfully running his fingers over the well-manicured hair on his face. “One day while we were going over his lesson and he was showing me the proper finger placement for a song … he leaned in and kissed me. Just shoved his tongue right down my throat.”
Fae looked at him in wide-eyed surprise. Obviously, it wasn't what she had expected to hear. But she remained silent as she stared at him, so he continued.
“I didn't know what to do at first,” he said quietly. “Part of me was scared half to death. I mean, I was barely thirteen; I'd never been kissed before by a girl at that point. And here he was, planting this lip lock on me.” He was silent for a minute as he thought back on it. “You know … if he had just stopped with the kiss … I probably would have been alright. I mean, it was just a kiss, you know? And I'm not gay, but I know that I'm not homophobic either. I mean, that kind of thing doesn't freak me out. I could have handled it. Only he didn't stop with the kiss,” Benji said, growing uncomfortable as he recalled the incident. His breathing shallowed slightly and Fae could see his fists clenching as he talked. “He didn't stop with the kiss,” he repeated softly.
“Before I knew what was happening, he had overpowered me and maneuvered me down onto the bed, and he was trying to kiss me again. Touching me. He had me pinned beneath his weight and I started to panic. I still don't know how I broke free because he was a lot bigger than me, but … once I did, I went off on him for attacking me like that. For trying to force me! I beat the shit out of him and I ran. Needless to say, that was the end of that foster home. And the one they placed me in after that was truly cut-throat. So, by age fifteen, I was basically homeless. I had run away from three foster homes by then, and I was living on the streets. And I'm not proud of it … but I would steal and panhandle for food and money. But I was one of the lucky ones,” he told her, looking up to meet her pained gaze. “I was good at swiping food and shit. And I was scrappy and combative enough that nobody really wanted to mess with me. So, I never had to pimp myself out to get by.”
She stared at him in shocked disbelief for a long moment. “How long were you on the streets?” she asked quietly.
“About two years. Then I met these guys who were in a bar band, and I was always following them around, asking questions and generally making a nuisance of myself,” he smiled. “I guess they just took pity on me because after a while, they started letting me hang out with them. And the bass player, his name was Tim, and I would drive him nuts with bass questions. He let me crash at his place for almost a year. During that time, he taught me everything he knew. He even gave me his old bass. Taught me how to take care of it, how to tune it, restring it. He was a good guy.”
“What happened to him?” Fae asked, hanging on Benji's every word.
Benji smirked sadly at her. “Well … Tim taught me a few other things besides the bass. He and his bandmates were into some heavy shit. You name it, they usually had it on hand, like walking drug stores. And I had nothing better to do, so I tried it all. I dropped my first hit of acid, snorted my first line of coke, and mainlined my first shot of heroin, all in Tim's apartment. I was seventeen years old. By the time my eighteenth birthday rolled around … Tim and one of his bandmates had both died of overdoses.”
“Benji,” Fae whispered. It was all so tragic, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. “What did you do after that?”
Benji took a deep breath and sighed. Then he shrugged his shoulders. “I bounced around after that. All I had to my name was a couple changes of clothes, a hand-me-down, 4-string Epiphone bass and an old amp Tim had given me. And I spent the next six years teaching myself everything I could. If you saw me, that bass was usually in my hands. I hooked up with a couple different bands that went nowhere fast. And I would either crash with one of the members or with whatever chick I happened to be sleeping with at the time,” he shrugged again. “Finally, I got it in my head that I was going to be a real rock bassist. I didn't know how, but I knew that was what I wanted. So … I packed what little clothes and money I had into a backpack, grabbed my bass and my amp, and I hitched my way to Hollywood. I figured the music scene had to be more hopping out here.”
“Where did you hitch from?” Fae's voice was quiet and full of wonder as she listened to his tale. Never in a million years would she have guessed that he had been through so much.
“Philly. That's where I landed after I ran away from that last foster home a few miles from there,” he said quietly.
“I never knew any of that,” she whispered as she stared at him.
Benji smiled at her. “That's because I've never shared it with anyone but my brothers. When it comes to interviews and shit, I make no secret of the fact that I grew up in the system. But the details are nobody's business but my own,” he said quietly, meeting her steady gaze. “So what about you?” he asked, eager to get the focus off of him for a while. “What was your experience in the system like?”
Fae shrugged her shoulders as she took a breath. “It wasn't too bad. I actually had a pretty pleasant time of it in comparison. I mean … I missed my mom. And I wanted desperately to be back in our house with the faerie-covered walls,” she smiled. “But it was nothing like what you went through.”
“Did you get to see your mom while you were in the foster home?”
“Sometimes,” Fae nodded. “The first four months or so were the worst though, because I couldn't see her while she was in rehab.”
Benji nodded at her response. He didn't want to make her cry again, but he was suddenly very curious about her mother. He wanted to know more. “When we talked before, you said she cleaned herself up for a while?” he asked quietly. And Fae nodded once more.
“Yeah. For a while,” she said softly, poking a french fry into the glob of ketchup on her plate. “Long enough to convince the social workers that she was fit enough to handle taking care of me again. And she tried. After I was back, she really did try for a while. She held down a job, and cooked dinners. For a couple of years, I honestly thought things were okay. But what I didn't realize was that she was just really good at hiding her drug use.” She looked up at Benji and smiled. “Of course, once you figure that part out, you grow up really fast. In no time at all, I somehow became the parent and she became the child. I learned how to cook dinner and write checks and pay bills and lie to social workers. And I learned how to block it out whenever I would walk in on her shooting up. And how to pretend like she was present and engaged when she was sitting nearly comatose on the couch beside me each night. And I got really good at it.”
Her voice was small and sad as she talked, and Benji remembered his earlier longing for that blissful, nodding, heroin-induced state that she was describing. And the look in her eyes made him feel guilty for ever wanting it. For ever craving it and believing that he needed it.
“When she died, I made a promise to myself that I would never be in that situation again,” Fae said softly as she looked up at him. She met his probing gaze with timid eyes as she said, “I can't get involved with someone who's using. I can't. I can't watch someone I care about do that to them
selves again. I can't be the caretaker for another addict. I won't,” she said softly.
Benji swallowed involuntarily at the determined glint he saw in her eyes. Was she speaking in general terms or was she sending him a direct message? Was this her way of telling him not to even go there? Not to even think about anything more than friendship with her? He wasn't sure, but he stored the information away just the same. He nodded his head slowly as he held her gaze. “I understand that,” he said quietly.
Fae broke their intense eye contact and reached out her hand, picking up her water glass and taking a much needed sip. She hadn't meant for this conversation to become so heavy. And she wanted to lighten the mood if she could. Smiling at him as she set the glass down, she said, “So … now I'm an orphan!”
Benji snorted softly as he smiled at her. “Yeah? I know a little something about that.”
Fae blushed as red as the tomatoes on his cheeseburger. “Oh, God. Benji … I should never have said that. I feel horrible!”
Benji frowned slightly at her. “It's no big deal, Fae,” he smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I didn't mean for you to feel bad, I was just stating the truth. I know where you're coming from because I'm an orphan too; I pretty much always have been. I have never had any real family to speak of.” He paused for a beat as he looked into her eyes. “At least, not until I walked into a random audition that led me to the four men who would become my brothers. Until I met them, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere, you know? I was never even wanted anywhere. I mean … nobody wanted to know me,” he told her with a sad smirk. “I had no ties and nothing to offer. I never felt connected to anyone or anything before I met them. I was nothing. If it wasn't for them, I would still be nothing. Just a nobody with an old hand-me-down bass and a dream. But they accepted me and took me in. They adopted me into this … this brotherhood,” he shrugged as he tried to make her understand. “It's hard to explain, but … after going through life virtually alone for the first twenty-four years of existence, Jagged Ivory quickly became my sole reason for living. It still is. It is all I've got. Otis and Noah and Cory and Buz … they are the only family I have ever had in my entire life and they mean everything to me. I would do anything for them. I would die, for any one of them.”
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 46
