I Love the 80s

by Crane, Megan

  Tommy made a noise then, and Jenna assumed it was something cynical or derisive. She wiped at her eyes with impatient jabs of her hands, curled into defensive fists again.

  ‘The thing is,’ she said quickly, afraid he would interrupt her again, and knowing that she had to get it out before it was too late, ‘I know that everything I felt was infatuation. I knew it once I met you, here. Once I got to know you. And I’m so glad I did, Tommy, because …’ Jenna’s voice cracked again, and she couldn’t bear to look at him. ‘Because you’re really so, so much more than I ever imagined you could be.’

  ‘Jenna.’ His voice was harsh, but no more than a whisper.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if you believe me,’ she continued, ignoring the command in his voice. She realized tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she ignored them, too. ‘It doesn’t matter if you think I’m crazy. I love you so much, I love you enough for the both of us.’ She thought she ought to be afraid to say that so baldly, with so little hope of a reply in the same vein, but she was past that, anyway, so she kept going. ‘Someday I hope I get to hear you play your guitar and sing, all alone on the stage, with no costumes or mascara. I believe I will, if we can just make it through tomorrow. And it doesn’t matter what happens between us, because I’ll still love you. I just want you to live.’

  Her voice seemed to echo for a moment, but then was gone. Jenna heard a ragged sound, and realized it was her own breathing. She looked at him, but quickly looked away, because everything felt too intense. Too raw.

  He stood there, so close but still so unreachable. He was silent.

  That was it then. She’d extended herself as far as she could go. What more could she do? Say?

  She turned, because there was nothing else. She was empty. Her head felt light, and her skin felt almost feverish. Her feet were unsteady beneath her, but she headed for the door.

  She didn’t hear him move, but suddenly he was turning her around, and his face was tormented. She saw only the glitter of his green eyes, hard and almost angry.

  ‘Tommy—’

  But she never knew what she might have said, because his lips came down on hers, and he kissed her like a desperate man. Like he was drowning.

  Like he felt the way she did, and hated it.

  Tommy didn’t let her speak.

  He didn’t speak himself.

  It was only flesh. Only mouths connecting, the scrape of lips and teeth against skin. The sigh and murmur of two bodies coming together, again and again.

  He made love to her fiercely, desperately. As if he might die the next day, as predicted. As if she might disappear.

  How can I let her go? How can I ever let her go?

  The afternoon turned into night, and eventually the dawn followed, and still it wasn’t enough. Still, he couldn’t hold her close enough or love her deeply enough to satisfy himself.

  To keep either one of them safe.

  When he finally fell into an exhausted sleep, the sky was far too light, and Jenna looked haunted. He refused to think about why.

  And when he woke up, she was gone.

  29

  Tommy waited for her outside her apartment that afternoon, which was less fun than it might have been thanks to the cold October rain, and was pleased to watch her jump when she saw him. The heavy outside door to her apartment building slammed shut behind her, but she was frozen there on the stoop.

  She was dressed in another bizarre outfit, although this one was better than the horrible sweater she’d had on yesterday. Today she had the great mass of her hair pinned up on the back of her head, and it looked like a tornado wouldn’t move it so much as an inch. She was also wearing jeans tucked into what looked like Doc Martens – which he was surprised she owned – and a dark sweatshirt. What made that combo bizarre was the grim way she moved, like she was a guardian angel on the prowl. He liked the way her eyes went huge as she looked at him.

  ‘You’re soaking wet,’ she said.

  ‘I would have come up.’ He straightened from the car he’d been leaning against. His car, as a matter of fact – because he might have a date with destiny, but the parking gods were still looking out for him. ‘I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to yell at you for taking off, or pick up where we left off.’

  ‘I know you’re supposed to go to that party thing at that hotel,’ Jenna said, as if he hadn’t spoken. As if he couldn’t feel the electricity sizzle between them. ‘You and Eugenia have a big fight there, that much I know. So I was going to go and be there, to, you know, keep an eye—’ She broke off, and walked down the steps until she was on the bottom one, putting her at his eye level. ‘What are you doing here?’ She smiled slightly.’ You can’t call the cops if you stalk me, right?’

  Tommy closed the distance between them. He liked the way her lips parted in surprise, and he liked the way she tipped her head back to take him in. He didn’t touch her, he only stood close enough so they could both feel the sizzle.

  ‘Number one,’ he said. ‘That song, “The Unforgettable Fire”.’

  Jenna nodded. She looked wary. ‘Bono sang it at your funeral. Sting sang the harmony. It was beautiful.’ She smiled as if she was trying to keep from welling up. ‘It was haunting.’

  Tommy searched her face, looking for something – anything – that would prove her guilt. Her insanity. But there was only Jenna looking back. Jenna, who wanted so badly to save him from a destiny only she could see. Jenna, who worried that he was out in the rain. Jenna, who knew a secret he’d never told another living soul – that he had forgotten about.

  ‘I ran into Bono earlier this year at the Brit Awards,’ Tommy said. Behind him, he heard the swish of cars down the wet street, but he could see nothing except Jenna. ‘It was only the two of us. We were standing backstage, and no one was near us. I told him that someday I wanted him to sing “The Unforgettable Fire” at my funeral, and he agreed. Said something about hoping it didn’t happen anytime soon, and that was that. I never told anyone. To be honest, I hadn’t thought much about my funeral before meeting you.’

  Jenna swallowed. Tommy saw her throat move, and eased away, watching her chin drop as she followed him with her eyes.

  ‘So either Bono has spent the past few months racing around telling everyone about a completely throwaway conversation he’d have no reason to think about while enjoying the insane success of The Joshua Tree,’ Tommy continued. ‘Or …’

  ‘Or … ?’ Jenna prompted him, her voice barely above a whisper.

  ‘Which brings me to number two,’ Tommy said. He reached over and traced the shape of her cheekbone. ‘I’m in love with you.’ It felt good to say it. Right. ‘Even though I don’t think I should be, and even though I tried not to be.’

  ‘How romantic,’ she said with a wry smile, and he felt his heart thump in response, because that was so Jenna – so completely who she was, and he was a goner. Had he known that, even back at the start, when she’d made googly eyes at him and he’d been so much more cruel than he’d had to be?

  ‘And my major problem here is that I can’t come up with a rational explanation for it,’ he said softly.

  ‘Love?’ She smiled again, and looked away for a moment. ‘I don’t think it’s rational. I think it’s chemical. And then emotional.’

  ‘Not love.’ He sighed. ‘The truth is, I can’t figure out how you could possibly know about that song. I mean, what are the odds that you would guess it? I’m not even a particularly big U2 fan.’ He considered. ‘Although I do like the new single.’

  ‘“Where The Streets Have No Name”,’ Jenna said, and surprised Tommy with a laugh. ‘I don’t think I’ve been able to listen to that song all the way through since the mid-Nineties. That’s how overplayed it is.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ Tommy said, but without any accusation in his voice. She frowned. ‘What you just said is completely, unarguably crazy.’

  She opened her mouth to say something, and he put his finger over her lips. She trembled. Heat coile
d inside of him, and he knew she could see it on his face.

  ‘I can’t wrap my head around it,’ he said quietly, seriously. ‘But you’re the most sane person I know. So I believe you. I don’t know how any of what you’re saying can be true, but I believe you. It can’t be any crazier than a born loser from a trailer park outside of Buffalo becoming a rock star, right? And I don’t think I care, as long as we’re together.’

  Jenna’s eyes shone. She reached over and took his face between her hands.

  ‘I love you,’ she managed to choke out. ‘I’m not crazy. I promise.’

  ‘I love you too,’ he said, and couldn’t help smiling. So what if it was raining and nothing made sense? So what if she thought he would die before the dawn? He felt like bursting into song. ‘So … what do we do now?’

  It was an excellent question. Jenna blinked. In all the scenarios she’d run through her head, none of them had involved Tommy showing up at her door and spontaneously believing her. So much for her plans for great martyrdom and sacrifice.

  ‘We get the hell out of New York City,’ she said, pulling back from him. ‘I know that you go to this party, and then afterwards you die. So let’s avoid the whole thing. Let’s go to … I don’t know, Maine. We’ll stay in a bed and breakfast near Penobscot Bay and come back a week from now, safe as houses.’

  ‘Penobscot Bay?’ He shook his head at her.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘Granted, I always wanted to go in the summer, but beggars can’t be choosers.’

  ‘Why will I be safe a week from now?’ Tommy asked, sounding far too reasonable. ‘Why won’t Richie just wait?’

  Jenna frowned. ‘I don’t know. Everything I know leads up to this night.’

  Tommy shook his head. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘What makes sense? We’re talking about time travel!’

  ‘No, we’re talking about my untimely death.’ He tapped her on the nose with a long finger.

  ‘Well,’ Jenna said, ‘thank you for that condescending gesture, but—’

  ‘We have to figure out why,’ Tommy said, cutting her off. She wanted to push his wet curls back from his forehead, but restrained herself. ‘Otherwise, what’s to keep him from trying and trying until he gets it right?’

  ‘I told you why.’ Jenna willed him to finally listen to her. ‘Money, Tommy. Lots and lots of money.’

  ‘He could ask for a loan,’ Tommy pointed out. ‘That’s what normal people do, isn’t it? You don’t jump right over loan and go to murder without a good reason.’

  ‘Obviously, he hates you,’ Jenna said matter-of-factly, earning a dark glare. Jenna thought that most people, upon finally exchanging I love yous, probably did not stand about in the rain discussing time travel, death, and murder. She and Tommy certainly were unique little snowflakes, weren’t they?

  ‘You’re talking about someone I’ve known for over a decade,’ Tommy said, choosing his words carefully. ‘I need a little more than that. I think we should go to the party and see if we can figure out why he chooses tonight to kill me.’

  ‘This is the part in every movie ever made where the audience starts screaming at the screen,’ Jenna informed him. ‘You are walking into your own deathtrap. It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘We’ve fingered three other people for this already,’ Tommy pointed out. ‘Duncan, Eugenia, Nick.’ He grinned. ‘Four, if I count you. Who’s to say it won’t turn out to be Sebastian in a surprise twist?’

  ‘I really think—’

  ‘I want to go to this party,’ Tommy said, his gaze serious. ‘I want to look each and every one of them in the eye. I want to know why. Will you do that with me, Jenna? Please?’

  And what exactly was she supposed to say to that?

  ‘Yes,’ she said. She sighed. ‘Okay. But we have to be careful.’

  Except there was no need to be careful, Jenna discovered a few hours later, as she clung to her champagne glass. The party was boring, setting aside the many stares she was getting thanks to her decidedly uncool outfit, or maybe it was the presence of her supposedly stalkery self with no security team around Tommy, and more to the point, Richie wasn’t even there.

  ‘Oh, you know Richie,’ Sebastian murmured, smiling blandly.

  ‘Not really,’ Jenna replied. Tommy was across the room, fending off a cross-examination from both Duncan and Eugenia – and Jenna knew the topic under discussion was her. Something about Duncan’s murderous glare, directed right at her head, clued her in. She turned her attention back to Sebastian, who appeared to be drinking his way through the bar’s entire selection of Scotch.

  ‘Duncan’s furious because he thinks he wasted money on security when it was only a bit of romance gone awry,’ Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. ‘He’ll get over it.’ He clinked his glass to hers. ‘Congratulations, by the way. I’ve never seen Tommy care at all, about any woman. You’re a first. And I would have said you’re not at all his type.’

  Jenna couldn’t deny the thrill that raced through her at the first part of that statement, but she could try to hide it, especially with the unnecessary second part.

  ‘His type is what, exactly?’ she asked. She nodded across the room. ‘Eugenia? That’s worked out well.’

  ‘Touché,’ Sebastian murmured. ‘I suppose I’m surprised he’s finally chosen someone who isn’t an intellectual void.’ He looked arch. ‘Tommy is not the dummy he sometimes pretends to be.’

  ‘You don’t seem like a dummy yourself,’ Jenna said. She eyed him. He looked drunk, and he had struck up this conversation, not her. ‘But I can’t get a handle on Richie. Is he fascinating in private?’

  Sebastian laughed, and took a drink from his glass.

  ‘Why are you so interested in Richie?’ he asked, his gaze assessing despite the laughter. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to be one of his extra-curricular activities. And I can guarantee you that Tommy won’t accept it.’

  ‘You think I want to … ?’ Jenna couldn’t finish the sentence. Sebastian only gazed at her. She felt her face redden. ‘I thought Richie was gay.’

  ‘I’m gay,’ Sebastian said. He waved a hand in the air. ‘On good days I think Richie can go either way. On bad days, I suspect the way he goes has more to do with opportunity than desire.’ He laughed again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I must have drunk more Scotch than I should have.’

  ‘Then why are you with him?’ Jenna asked softly. ‘You could be with anyone.’

  ‘Fear,’ Sebastian said, with a wry smile. ‘Loneliness. And don’t forget love. That’s the kicker. That’s the one that always tears your guts out, isn’t it?’ He sighed when he saw Jenna’s expression. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m always maudlin after a fight. It hasn’t broken us up yet.’

  He excused himself shortly thereafter.

  Jenna was stilling mulling it all over when Tommy walked up to her, and settled himself next to her on the couch. After Sebastian had abandoned her, she’d stationed herself in prime position, where she could scan the whole room – the better to enjoy the way they scowled at her dowdiness and complete inappropriateness for a superstar like Tommy Seer.

  The truth was, Jenna kind of liked the fact that she was dressed for a grunt mission, and all these sparkling beauties had to stand around and wonder what she had that they didn’t. In fact, she kind of loved it.

  ‘No fight with Eugenia,’ Tommy announced. ‘If anything, she thought Duncan was being too harsh. And still no sign of Richie.’

  ‘Sebastian and he had a fight,’ Jenna said, tearing her attention away from a leggy redhead who was scowling at her.

  ‘And Sebastian got all bitter and a little bit nasty,’ Tommy said, sounding bored. ‘Blah blah blah. It’s like clockwork.’

  ‘That’s kind of what he said.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘And also that Richie is bi. Did you know that?’

  ‘Sure.’ Tommy shrugged. ‘If it’s hot, Richie wants to nail it.’ He looked amused. ‘You kn
ow they have an open relationship, right? Are you interested? Is that why you’re asking?’

  Jenna made a face. ‘Let’s survive 1987,’ she suggested. ‘Then we can discuss the parameters of our relationship.’

  ‘That’s not a no, I notice,’ Tommy said, grinning. ‘Maybe women from the future are more open-minded than the ones in the Eighties. Hope springs eternal.’

  Jenna only shook her head at him.

  An hour later they were both fed up. There was no sign of Richie, and no reason for them to be suffering through a boring party. Even though nothing had happened – or seemed likely to happen – Jenna felt antsy.

  ‘You wanted to come, so we came,’ she said finally. ‘Can we go now? Can we disappear for a while? Penobscot Bay, Tommy. Little islands. Pine trees.’

  ‘We can leave this stupid party, anyway,’ Tommy said, smiling his rock-star smile for the benefit of the public. ‘Liz Smith is giving us the evil eye.’

  Jenna felt relief surge through her as they walked through the lobby of the hotel. She didn’t know why, exactly, and it quickly subsided. Nothing seemed to be going the way she’d expected it to. Eugenia had barely spoken to Tommy, and certainly hadn’t fought with him. And yet Jenna still had that itchy feeling, as if it was all about to go bad.

  ‘I suppose Eugenia could have told everyone you had a fight later,’ she mused aloud. ‘That would make her seem more central to your death, after all, when maybe it had nothing to do with her. And maybe if she didn’t manufacture a fight, someone might remember that she was way more interested in Duncan Paradis than her doomed fiancé that night.’

  Tommy shot her a look as they stepped outside.

  ‘What an imagination you have,’ he murmured after he handed his ticket to the practically genuflecting valet. ‘Are you sure you don’t work in PR?’

  ‘Very funny,’ Jenna said with a laugh. She curled her hand around Tommy’s arm, and was about to say something else when she saw the figure walking towards them.

  Richie.