Crazygirl Falls in Love
Page 26
***
I can’t see Blue. I wander around the place for a minute before determining he hasn’t arrived yet. It’s fine, it’s only 7:50 p.m. and I bought a book with me just in case I was early or he was late. It’s one I’ve wanted to tackle for a while, The Brothers Karamazov. Mum’s been asking me to read it since forever, something about Dostoyevsky’s sympathetic portrayal of women’s issues. My mum was a bit of a feminist back in the day, burning bras and what not.
I settle down at one of the small tables, not far from the sofas where Antonio, Chloe, the Stranger and I were hanging out the weekend before last. Funny how things change.
The place is busier than I thought it would be for a Tuesday night. I order a white wine and do a spot of people watching. There’s always the same types at a pub or bar, isn’t there? Emotional break up girl weeping to her friends, the glory days gang, the clown, the lightweight slouched over the bar mid-pass-out, the random old couple, the random baby couple (get a sitter for Pete’s sake), the sad old lady in a boob tube cougar stalking the place like a jungle cat, the girl who really wants to dance even though it’s not that kind of a bar...
Wait a minute.
Blushing to myself in pitiful shame as I recall last night’s uncoordinated gargoyle-like dancing, I open my Dostoyevsky and start reading. Nothing distracts better than a good old book. But before I’ve finished the first paragraph the bar music goes dead. I look up to see what’s going on. There are a few seconds of weirdness as everyone can suddenly hear each other’s conversations. Those who had been talking loudly to be heard over the music switch to hushed whispers. What happened to the tunes, man?
Then we hear someone clearing his voice through a microphone. My eyes are drawn to the small stage in the corner (if you can call it that, it’s more like a miniature drum riser). There’s Blue. I don’t understand what’s going on at first, so I stand to walk over to him. Half way there I spot a karaoke set where he’d normally have his DJ kit...
My pace slows to a stop while my heart starts to fibrillate a little, as I see him holding the microphone with trembling hands. But while his hands are shaking his face is relaxed and grinning as he says through the mike,
“I’d like to dedicate this song to the pretty little peanut with the blonde hair.”
I begin to back away slowly, edging myself into an empty chair at a four person table, the people sitting there looking at me in disapproval (who is this bird who just took our spare seat? Be gone with you, new bird). I’d say something but I’m mesmerised by the sight of Blue tapping his foot as the introductory saxophone solo bursts from the karaoke system. A familiar saxophone solo...
It can’t be? It just can’t! Blue starts singing in that deep, gravelly voice,
“If I had to live my life without you near me... The days would all be empty... The nights would seem so long...”
I can’t believe it. It’s Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You, my most favouritest of songs! How did he know?
“With you I see forever, oh, so clearly... I might have been in love before... But it never felt this strong...”
His voice rises,
“Our dreams are young and we both know... They'll take us where we want to go. Hold me now, touch me now, I don't wanna live without you...”
Every single person at Loft has their eyes glued towards Blue, some with eyebrows raised in astonishment, a few smiling in amusement, others blank from not know what to think. I think I’m the latter as he hits the chorus,
“Nothing's gonna change my love for you, you oughta know by now how much I love you.... One thing you can be sure of... I'll never ask for more than your love.... Nothing's gonna change my love for you...”
The rest of the song is a bit of a blur. Blue doesn’t take his eyes off me and pretty soon everyone has figured out that I’m the blonde peanut. I fix my gaze firmly on Blue, my cheeks going redder and redder at each note. It’s a lovely gesture but I’m just a ta-a-ad embarrassed by the stares. Blue, on the other hand, looks happy as Larry, until the tricky key change comes in where he begins to look awkward. He manages to hold the tune somehow. His voice is really nice, so deep and resonant. Maybe he should audition for X Factor next year?
When he’s done he says a simple, “Thank you,” before reverently placing the mike back in its stand.
A couple of tables explode with applause, particularly emotional break up girl’s crew who emit a few ‘woohoos’. I’m so embarrassed by this point that I jump up from my seat and rush to the bar, where I hope Blue will meet me. No sense in letting this moment of pure cheese marinate in the juice of time. Move it along, people, nothing to see here. Don’t get me wrong, I love love LOVED it, I can’t believe this just happened, but I can feel the thoughts of everyone at the bar hovering above us in a cloud of furious curiosity and lofty amusement at the expense of this wonderful guy who just openly sacrificed his male ego for me.
Blue bounces of the stage and in a few steps is next to me, his arm around my waist. I put my arm around his,
“So what did you think?” He asks, a huge grin on his face,
“It was... unexpected.”
“Not too cheesy?” He asks.
“I love cheese. Cheese me up. But didn’t you say you’re afraid of public performances?”
“I thought I’d make an exception. Plus you said I had a good voice.”
“You do, the crowd enjoyed it as much as I did.”
I gesture around Loft, where most people have gone back to their conversations, politely not looking at us but obviously wanting to because they keep stealing glances. There is no better place in the world for polite cultural norms than England. I feel like yelling “Thank you for not making a big deal outta this!” to the bar crowd, but that would be silly.
“But I’ve never told anyone that’s my favourite song,” I continue.
“I chanced on in when I was listening to your music. Your Most Played playlist has only one song in it.”
Oh. The day of the storm where he’d been listening to my iPod on the couch...
“But why did you do it? I mean... That was incredible!”
“Because it seems the guys you’ve had to endure lately have been right twats, and I wanted to show you I’m not like that.”
Clearly not, I want to say, but I’m speechless. He removes his arms from my waist and takes both my hands in his.
“So did you want that re-race tomorrow?” He asks.
“Sure, but don’t bank on winning sandwich rights. I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to have the race of my life,” I joke.
“Then my entire existence will now be focused on winning.”
And he kisses me, and he tastes like wonder and there’s no going back. I will love this guy, or evaporate from my sheer desire to love him. And I think of how odd love is, a bizarre illogical mystery of coincidences that leads us to find that one person.
***
Chloe and I are sitting at the bar at Jamie’s, just down the road from Loft. Since leaving Blue he’s sent me a text asking me to let him know when I get home safety. I had replied immediately promising I would. I’m not doing any game playing this time. No waiting two hours before sending a response, no screening calls, no being scared of texting twice in a row to avoid seeming desperate. We’ll see how it goes, but so far so good.
Chloe and I have been analysing my Road to Disaster-turned-Triumph since we ordered our first round,
“So let’s go through this latest section of your life one more time. You quit a job you hated,” Chloe begins anew.
“Pro,” I say, sipping my lime soda. I forgot how much I like this drink.
“But you did it in the most obscene way imaginable?”
“Con.”
“Nevertheless, you might be getting a job at a bank earning as much if not more, with fewer hours, more perks and a nicer boss.”
“Pro.”
“But most of it will be new law that you’ll have to spend months studying up
on?”
“Con.”
“You have a great boyfriend who’ll publically humiliate himself for you.”
“Pro.”
“But you were punched in the face, stood up and emotionally damaged in the process.”
“Con.”
“So I reckon you’re more or less even.”
“True.”
We sit in silence for a few seconds.
“Chlo?” I venture.
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad we’re back.”
“Me too.” She smiles, and we chink glasses.
Later, on our way back to the Tube, I link my arm through hers and feel that all is well with the world.