Faster

by Deana Birch

  Password? He hadn’t given me any password. Had the other girls tried to get in by pretending they were us? I was encouraged that he was taking no chances and tried to think of something only he and I would understand.

  “Arlo Guthrie.”

  Gina closed one eye and turned her head like a confused dog. But it worked. The bolt clicked on the other side and the door opened a small crack. Jake’s eye caught mine and we were quickly pulled inside the bathroom. Sam sat on the toilet with the seat down, and the evidence of the last hour lined up on the floor in the form of empty bottles. Jake relocked the door and leaned against the sink.

  “What the figgity fuck?” Gina unscrewed the lid of the vodka, brought it to her lips, and gulped twice.

  I handed Sam and Jake a new beer and said, “My eyes are actually burning.”

  “Phil says twenty more minutes and then he’s shutting it down,” Jake said.

  “What is seen cannot be unseen,” said Gina. She marched over to Sam and plopped herself in his lap. “Thanks for locking yourself in here.” She kissed his cheek.

  I moved to Jake, who now had his arms crossed and stared at my legs.

  “I think you may have been in too much of a rush to get here. You forgot your pants.”

  “Relax. I’m wearing underwear.” I stepped closer.

  “I fucking hope so.”

  “That’s more than we can say for the girls out there,” Gina said, pointing her thumb to the door.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  I jumped out of my skin.

  “Jaaaaake, Saaaammmmyyyy.”

  “Occupied!” Gina shouted.

  “Jesus, they are relentless.” I pushed myself up against Jake, unfolded his arms, and secured his hands on my ass. He couldn’t resist taking a squeeze, but he was still leering down at me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him once. No response. Twice. Still nothing. When I moved to his jawline, I detected a small surrender and took it as a sign of encouragement. I flowered his neck with kisses, and when I got to his ear, I whispered, “If I’m not getting pissed about twenty naked strippers doing blow and recreating pornos in front of my boyfriend, you can’t get pissed about a short skirt.”

  That did the trick. His head fell back in surrender.

  “You make a strong case.”

  When Phil sent the all clear and we could open the door, we were relieved to see a lot less skin. The band went right into their warm-up rituals. Shane appeared and was already doing his vocal exercises in the mirror. I went to get another beer, and Gina slid the bottle of vodka back into the ice bucket.

  “There’s not enough booze in the world to erase what we just witnessed,” she said. The expression on her face changed as if a lightbulb had gone off in her gorgeous head. “Do you smoke pot?”

  “Do you have some?” I asked.

  “No. But I can get some.” She bit her bottom lip and her eyes widened with her grin.

  I weighed the prospects of the rest of the night. A little levity would be sure to help. “Then yes, today, I definitely smoke pot,” I said.

  “I’ll be right back.” She clapped her hands in a quiet celebration.

  Gina walked over to a roadie. He opened his pack of cigarettes and handed her one, and she planted an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. She came back over to me and we grabbed our bags to head out the back to smoke it. Halfway down the hall, Jake called after me. Gina kept walking, but I turned around.

  “Where are you going? We’re about to go on.”

  “Gina needs some fresh air,” I fibbed. “I’ll see you on the side of the stage.”

  He scratched his neck, perhaps mulling over the previous scene backstage. “Right.”

  “Don’t worry; we won’t be long.” I flashed him a smile. It worked, and he grinned back, leaving me free to exit. When I met Gina in the alley, she had already lit up and was holding it in.

  “I fucking hate strippers,” she said after exhaling the smoke.

  I took my own hit and watched the smoke gradually release from my lungs. I was by no means a regular pot smoker, but marijuana and I had a brief affair my junior year in high school. I handed the joint back to Gina.

  “You know, they’re just women doing their best to get by, using what they’ve got,” I said. “Today someone offered them an escape and a fantasy. I bet most of the time they’re sitting on the lap of a disgusting businessman from Boise.”

  Gina took another drag and I continued.

  “So they went crazy. Balls-to-the-walls crazy, yes. But this is probably their way of letting off steam.”

  She exhaled. “Don’t make friends with the enemy, Louana”

  “I’m not. I’m just saying, I get it. I mean, can you blame them? Our boyfriends are hot rock stars.”

  “I hate that you’re right.” She frowned and faked a stink eye.

  We finished the smoke. The crowd’s cheers strengthened, which meant the band had taken the stage and we needed to get back.

  I grabbed Gina’s hand. “We have to pretend like we are oblivious to them. Let’s play a game.”

  Gina perked up. “Can we have a special code?”

  “Great idea,” I said. “What could it be?”

  We walked back inside and down the hall.

  “Big words!” Gina shouted over the music. “Really big words!”

  At the side of the stage, both of us got lost in the music. We drank beers throughout the set, and the energy buzzed around us. Jake and I had our usual exchange before the encore, and then it was over. My boyfriend was officially off tour. If I was happy, the band and crew were elated. The gear was packed and loaded at an alarming rate.

  Gina and I camped out in a corner backstage and Sam and Jake came over. They had both showered and changed into fresh clothes.

  “You guys want another beer?” Sam offered.

  “Yeah. That would be…magnanimous,” I said, watching Sam walk over to the makeshift bar.

  Gina snorted, which sent me into a massive giggle, which in turn sent Gina into hysterics.

  “What am I missing?” Jake’s eyes darted back and forth between us.

  “Nothing.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “Great show, baby. It was splendiferous.”

  “Yeah,” added Gina. “It was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

  Kudos to Gina for getting the word out, but my composure was flushed down the toilet, and our giggle fest continued as Sam came back with four beers.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “I honestly have no idea.” Jake’s bottom lip plumped out.

  We were beginning to pull ourselves together when Sam tugged at one of his ears and studied Gina.

  “Geens, are you stoned?” he asked.

  Busted. Her mouth twisted to one side as she avoided eye contact with her boyfriend. Jake looked over to me, and I bit my lip to hide my grin. Sam repeated the question. I was pretty sure the next thing out of Gina’s mouth was meant to be “indubitably.”

  Instead, she said, “Indoodoobibly.”

  The floodgates opened wide. She snorted again. “I said indoodoobibly.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my God, I’m gonna pee my pants,” I said.

  “You’re not wearing any pants.” Gina closed her eyes and wobbled with laughter.

  I’m embarrassed to say I cackled. Loud.

  Somehow we managed to get up and make our way into the bathroom where the boys had spent the better part of their time after sound check. The evening had erased our inhibitions, and I dropped my panties and peed in front of Gina. She followed, and we met at the sink, where I reapplied my lip gloss.

  “That seriously is a killer dress.”

  “You wanna try it on?”

  Her green eyes lit up. “Fuck yeah. Unzip me.”

  Gina stepped out of her yellow dress and I pulled mine overhead. She was only wearing a little string and her black heels.

  “Your body is amazing, Gina.”

  “Aww, thanks.” Her eyes s
canned over me; all our modesty had disappeared. I was wearing a baby blue and cream, lace bra with matching full-bottomed boy shorts. “I knew you’d have…” She narrowed her eyes. “Exquisite lingerie.”

  We giggled some more and she put on my dress. It seemed natural to try hers on at the same time.

  “I need bigger boobs. I can’t fill this out like you can,” I said. I shoved my bra straps into the cups and pressed the fabric down on my chest.

  “Nonsense,” said Gina. “But damn, this dress is short. I feel like my ass is hanging out.”

  I tilted my head to get a better vantage point. “Nah, you’re good, but it’s not a dress made for a thong.”

  “I wonder if Sam would let me out of the house in this.”

  “Only one way to find out.” A devilish grin flashed across my face in the mirror.

  Her answer came quicker than we had imagined. We opened the door to see Jake and Sam standing where we had left them. Jake laughed, but Sam was far from amused.

  “No!” Sam pointed back to the bathroom, giving Gina silent instructions to turn around and put her original dress back on. His reaction only encouraged us to laugh more, but he didn’t seem to find our response funny either.

  The rest of the night, in our own dresses, we stuck by Sam and Jake’s sides. A few girls still hung around from the pre-show, and we weren’t taking any chances.

  Shane found himself an adorable little pixie with short, spiky, pink hair and several piercings. They tried to integrate into our conversations with little success. The four of us had created an unspoken bond, and talking among each other was too easy.

  The crew were allowed to blow off all their steam, and their energy was infectious. The band enjoyed being a part of it; we all dawdled around instead of rushing back to the hotel. Even Phil had cut loose. He may have been tipsy.

  Jake eventually wobbled over to me. “I think I’m really drunk.”

  By midnight I had alternated waters for beers, so I was in much better shape than he was.

  “I think I have the munchies,” I confessed.

  “Let’s head back,” Sam suggested as he hooked an arm around Gina’s bare shoulders.

  Back in our room, I rummaged through the minibar for snacks, and Jake confirmed his inebriation by tripping in his pants and falling heavily on the bed. I settled on a can of Pringles and a Milky Way. I brought them over to the bed and sat next to Jake, who gave me his best puppy dog eyes.

  “I wanna know how I’m doing on your list,” he slurred.

  “Let’s not talk about it when we’re wasted.” My taste buds tried to decide what was better—chocolate, then salty, or salty, then chocolate.

  “You never want to talk about it.” Jake rolled to his back, his eyelids heavy. “I’m falling.” He closed his eyes.

  I pulled off my dress, undid my bra, and climbed under the covers. Shit. I closed my eyes. I’ve already fallen, I admitted to myself. I loved Jake.

  18

  Pushing

  * * *

  JAKE

  “Did you see the squirrel?” I asked the gorgeous brunette next to me.

  “Huh?” Louana tilted her head to the side. “What squirrel?”

  “The squirrel who came in and shat in my mouth last night while I was sleeping. Jesus Christ, I can’t kiss you like this.”

  She laughed and handed me some water.

  “I think I need to exfoliate my tongue,” I said.

  “Shower?” she proposed.

  “With pleasure.”

  We were both eager to get back to Los Angeles. Instead of room service, we stopped for bagels. We ate in the shop and ordered a large coffee and a liter of water to go. The trip home passed quickly; she drove and I played DJ. I chose a lot of Van Morrison, sprinkled with Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac. We relived some of the more outrageous moments of the weekend. She let the lifestyle roll off her back, and even though I was dying to ask her where we stood, I tried not to push.

  When her phone rang on the Bluetooth, cutting the stereo, she mindlessly pushed the button to answer.

  “Louana Higgins.”

  “Salut Minette.”

  I’d never heard his voice before, but I didn’t need three guesses to know who was on the other end.

  “Salut.” At least there wasn’t joy in her voice.

  My arms crossed, and I listened to her ex-boyfriend babble on in French for what seemed like eternity.

  “Are you gonna wrap this up?” I gave exactly zero fucks if he heard me.

  “C’est qui?” the ex said.

  Louana cocked her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow. Seriously? What did I do? Then she said something in French and hung up.

  Uh-oh. Nostril flare.

  “Look, Jake. I listened to a stripper say she was going to let you fuck her in the ass, and then the same stripper spent the entire night five feet away from me in Vegas. I watched a live, drug-induced porno last night backstage. I think I’m handling your life outside mine pretty well. So you’re gonna have to pull up your big-boy pants and let this go. It’s not as if I called him.”

  That wasn’t the problem. The problem was this asshole felt like he could call my girlfriend whenever he wanted to.

  “When’s the last time you saw him?”

  “Jake. He lives in France.” She focused in front of her, but I saw her eyes roll.

  “Why did he call?” And why did he think he could?

  “We’re friends. But I can’t control those things.” Her eyes flashed to me then back to the road.

  “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend?”

  “I didn’t have time, but I will if he calls back. Can we be done with this, please?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. I went back to playing music for us, trying to see she was right, but not convinced.

  ⸎

  We walked through the empty courtyard, both of us strapped down with our grocery bags and luggage. Louana put the key in the door and paused.

  “Oh.” Her mouth twitched from side to side. “There’s a little surprise inside. I hope it’s not too presumptuous.”

  “I love surprises.” I kissed the tip of her skinny nose.

  She opened the door and headed into the kitchen. I stayed in the living room, my hands still full, staring at a piano.

  “You got me a piano?” I asked. She set her overnight bag down by the dining room table and came over to unburden me of the groceries. Then she moved back to the kitchen, where she piled my sacks on the counter next to the others.

  “Yeah. Well, it’s a rental,” she called over her shoulder as she opened the bags to put away their contents. “There’s no pressure to use it.”

  It was, hands down, the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. With my heavy bags and her stolen pillow still under an arm, I walked over to the kitchen doorway.

  “You got me a piano.”

  “I knew you were anxious to start writing, and I’m basically gone half of this week, so you’ll have plenty of privacy. But seriously, no pressure if you don’t want to use it. I got a great rate, thanks to Mario.”

  “You got me a piano, legal pads, and number two pencils.”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head as if waking up. “Does anything get by you? I didn’t even know you knew how I write.”

  “You mentioned it to a journalist. Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” I turned around and walked to the bedroom. “She got me a piano. I come back from tour and there’s a piano, with everything else I need, waiting for me. Un-fucking-believable, this woman.”

  I dropped my bags next to the bed and hopped on it. Oh, my Lord, the comfort. When had she ever heard me say how I write? Everything I needed was in her apartment. Well, minus my drum kit, but I knew enough not to ask for that. Although I could probably fit them into the middle closet…

  “Are you done talking to yourself?” She leaned her head into the bedroom.

  “I missed this bed.” I spooned into the du
vet and inhaled. “Do you mind if I take a nap?”

  She beamed in my direction.

  “Not at all. I’m gonna start some laundry, call my mom, and check on Fern and Archie. I’ll wake you up to start the grill.”

  I could have lain there and mind tripped about what this woman did to me. How she met my every need head-on with a smile and grace. How my desire for her grew instead of faded. How I may have secretly been freaking the fuck out and was sure I was falling in love with her. But the coziness of her bed, and of knowing she understood me on a fundamental level, lulled me to sleep.

  When I woke up, opera played from the speakers in the dining room, and I found Louana in the kitchen by the sink, cutting some broccoli. From behind her, I slid my arm around her waist, and she tilted her neck to expose the skin and welcome my kiss.

  “Fern’s gonna eat with us. She wants to hear about your craps game.”

  “Is this your grandmother?” I asked, referring to the music.

  “No, it’s her idol, Maria Callas. You can change it after this song if you want. I know opera isn’t for everybody.”

  “I like it, but it sounds sad.” I kissed her again. I’d only slept a couple of hours but could already sense the difference in my energy.

  “It is. It’s about a girl begging her father to understand she’s fallen in love with the wrong man.” She continued her task of cutting the green vegetables into small pieces, using her thumb to stop the blade.

  “I forget it’s sad,” she said, before I could over-analyze the meaning. “I’ve listened to it so many times, I can only feel the beauty. When my grandmother first played it for me and explained it—I don’t know… It was almost a small confession about how much regret she had over my mom. I used to tear up as soon as the first few notes played. But now it makes me think of the beautiful year I spent in France, getting close to a wonderful woman and finding out more of my history.”

  “Only you could turn a sad song into a happy one,” I said. I left to start the grill, a beer in one hand and a new toy for Archie in the other.

  I knocked on Fern’s door.