Michelle: Are you going to come in or just sit out there all day?
I looked up to see her figure in the front window of the house. She was wiggling her fingers in a patronizing wave.
Tap, tap, tap.
I got out of the car and grabbed my guitar from the back seat. By the time I made it up the sidewalk to the front door, it was wide open with a smiling Michelle on the other side.
Even though she hadn't worn her bookstore uniform to Wild Bill’s, it was still strange to see her out of the usual black shirt and khaki combo I was used to seeing. Today she wore a loose tank and cutoff shorts. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, and it looked like she was wearing less makeup than usual.
“Like what you see?” she asked, pulling me from my perusal. I could feel my face burning from the embarrassment of getting caught checking her out. But when I met her eyes, she didn’t look upset. In fact, her smile seemed bigger.
“Oh, don’t freak out Rainier. I’m just teasing you. Come in.”
I followed her into the living room.
After a few minutes of sitting awkwardly on the couch, I opened the case and pulled out my guitar.
“Oh." Michelle looked at my guitar. "That’s a different one than what you used last night.”
“It’s my acoustic. I thought it would be better for this.”
“Okay." She leaned forward in her seat. "Where do we start?”
I cleared my throat. “Are you left or right-handed?”
“Right.”
"Perfect."
I looked at the hand she stuck out and noticed a logistical problem I hadn’t thought of before this moment.
“You have long nails.”
“I just had them done.”
“You won't be able to play with those. You have to press the strings down on the fret. See?” I lifted my left hand to show her my short fingernails. “You can always keep the nails on your other hand for picking, but I’m not sure that’s the look you want to go for.”
She looked down at her hands but didn’t say anything.
“Or we could just cancel the lesson and call it a failed experiment.”
“I’ll be right back.” MIchelle ran out of the room. I took that opportunity to look around. Her dad had expensive taste. The leather couches, oriental rug and artwork on the walls was a far cry from what I was used to.
We had a house full of mismatched furniture. Not because my parents couldn’t afford something new, but because they didn’t want to contribute to the mass production that our materialistic society caused. Everything was bought secondhand because of their strong feelings on the issue. Instead of fresh flowers on end tables, we had glass jars filled with kombucha.
Even the outside of her home was totally different. They had professional landscaping while we had a personal garden mostly filled with plants of the edible variety.
What was I doing here? What was I thinking?
“Sorry about that. Just had to prep.”
Michelle sat back down on the couch and waved her fingers at me. She’d trimmed all the nails on her left hand while keeping the nails on her right hand long. It looked ridiculous. I didn’t dare laugh though.
“You said you just had them done.”
“And you said I couldn’t play with them. So what’s next?”
“Well, your hair’s too long and could get stuck in the strings," I said, looking for excuses.
“Be right back,” she said, hopping off the couch.
“Wait, I’m kidding.”
Michelle laughed. “I know, but I wanted to see your reaction. Just how far is Rainier willing to go to get out of this lesson?”
“Fine. Sit down.”
“Yes, sir.”
“First, put this part in your left hand.” I pointed to the neck of my guitar before giving it to her. “You can rest the body over your legs.”
Her movements were jerky as she reached for the guitar and positioned it in her lap. While her left hand held the guitar, she kept her right arm awkwardly above the body. It was almost like she was afraid to touch it.
“It’s not going to bite.”
“I know that, Rainier.”
“Then why are you acting so weird.”
Her eyes were wide as she looked at me. “I can’t remember the last time I did something that put me so far out of my comfort zone.”
“What about the bookstore?”
Michelle snorted. “I practically grew up at Between The Pages. Even though it’s been years since I’ve spent any amount of time there, it’s not completely foreign.”
This was news to me. I knew Michelle's dad had owned the store for a long time, but I never imagined little Michelle wondering around the place with pigtails and a dress frolicking between the isles. Maybe she used to have a love for books before she became hardened by life.
“You’re picturing me as a little girl at the bookstore right now.”
“How could you know that?”
“You got a dreamy look in your eyes. Don’t romanticize it.”
“It’s just a little poetic, you know? You grew up there and hated it for so long. Now that you’ve come around, it’s closing.”
“Are you giving me a lesson or not?” she asked, changing the subject.
I was sitting opposite of Michelle and leaned forward in my seat, so I could show her where to place her hands.
“Okay, so the first note I’m going to have you play is an A. You’ll need to stick your finger right here.” I touched the fret. She put her finger in the spot as soon as I moved mine. “Good. Now push down hard while you pluck this string.”
She did it and gave me a look that stole my breath. If I’d known playing one note, even as badly as she did, could bring that much joy, I would have done this without the fight.
I cleared my throat. “Okay. So now take your middle finger and place it here.” I pointed to a new spot, and she followed my directions until she played the next note. “Good. Now take your fingers off the fret and strum the string without pressing anything.”
Once again, she complied.
“Now I want you to play all three notes in order.”
Michelle placed her fingers on the neck and played the first one, then stretched her hand to try to reach the next. A line formed between her brows as she looked intently at the guitar.
“It’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” I got up. “Here, sit on the ottoman.”
Michelle did what I said without arguing. Where was this girl who followed orders the first time we worked together? I came up behind her and leaned in closely. As I did this, I wrapped my left arm around hers to help position her fingers. “You’re going to have to curl your hand to reach the places you need to press down on.”
I was close enough to hear her swallow before she nodded. Close enough to smell her hair. The scent was incredible and made it hard to think clearly.
I stayed in my spot while she tried again, training my gaze on her fingers. It was a little better. “Try again.”
She played the same three notes over and over again. I didn’t move. I found myself leaning nearer when I should have been getting back to my spot on the couch. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. It looked so smooth. I wanted to touch it. The playing stopped abruptly.
“My fingers are starting to hurt. How do you do it?”
I turned my hand so that my palm was facing up. “Calluses.”
Michelle ran her fingers over mine and looked up at me. Her face was inches from my own. The expression she wore was serious as her eyes searched mine. They moved quickly back and forth as she focused on one eye, then the other.
It was obvious what was supposed to happen next. For some inexplicable reason, Michelle wanted me to kiss her. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. My heart was currently attempting to leap out through my chest, and my lungs forgot how to work.
Michelle began leaning even closer to me. This was it. At th
e ripe age of nineteen, I was finally going to kiss a girl. Or more accurately, have a girl kiss me. Her eyelids fluttered closed. I tried to take a breath but realized I still hadn’t let out the last one.
I jumped off the couch in a panic. Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized Michelle had been leaning into me. So when I moved, she fell off the ottoman and onto the ground. My guitar went flying as she used her arms in an attempt to catch herself.
Thankfully, it looked like it hit the rug and it would be fine. Michelle, on the other hand, didn’t look so good. She was on her back on the ground in front of me. A quick survey told me she wasn’t hurt physically, but it was apparent she was angry.
“What the hell, Rainier?"
I tried to help Michelle up, but she smacked away my hands before getting up off the ground. She refused to make eye contact with me and stormed off into the other room. I followed her into what was the kitchen and watched as she leaned against the counter and pulled out her phone.
"Michelle."
"I think you should leave," she said, still not looking at me.
“Stop it."
"I just got rejected in my own house. I'm pretty sure asking you to leave is an acceptable response.”
I snatched the phone from her hand and set it back on the counter before standing in front of her, blocking her in.
“You're unbelievable, and I can’t handle it right now. Besides, don’t you want to check on your precious guitar?” Her tone was cruel.
“I don’t care about my guitar right now,” I said, surprising myself. My instruments were my babies, but I was more concerned about what was going on with the girl in front of me at the moment.
“You certainly don’t care about me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? You and I both know that you aren’t the next Jimi Hendrix.” Michelle opened her mouth to argue, but I put my finger against her lips before she could speak. They were soft and plump. Utterly distracting. I snatched my finger back. “But you asked me to come, so I did.”
“Then why did you freak out when I tried to kiss you? Do you wish you were dating Jenny or something?”
“Jenny?”
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t see the way she follows you around like a puppy dog, wearing her short dresses, joining the band.”
“Isn’t that what you did?" I asked, not knowing where the words were coming from. It was like we couldn't stop ourselves from arguing. "Only you took it one step further. You saw Jenny on the stage with me first and couldn’t stand it, could you? That’s why you insisted we do this lesson, isn't it?"
Hurt flashed across her face briefly before it transformed into anger. “You’re a jerk, Rainier. You want to pretend like you are so morally superior to everyone because you have hippie parents and were homeschooled and never were a part of the things all the cool kids were doing. But now you’ve had a taste of popularity, and you think you’re so great. You want to string two girls along because that’s what people like you do without any regard for anyone's feelings!"
Her voice had gotten louder as she continued with her rant so that she practically spat the last word at me. I had no idea what was going on, and I wasn’t convinced Michelle did either. We'd gone from an almost kiss to her yelling at me about stringing people along. I didn't know what to say. She stared at me for a few seconds before walking out of the kitchen and leaving me alone. Again.
I ran my hands through my hair trying to process what had just happened. Michelle was upset about me not kissing her, but it seemed like she was upset about something else. I didn’t have feelings for Jenny, and I was pretty sure she knew that.
Michelle was so far out of my league, and I was freaking out because I was pretty sure I liked her. I walked out into the living room where she was sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. Tears were falling down both of her cheeks.
I got down on my knees in front of her and looked up at her face.
"What's going on, Michelle?"
“I don’t react well to rejection.”
“I guess not.” I gave her a small smile she didn't return.
“What about me is so repulsive you’d rather knock me over than kiss me?”
I laughed at the way her mind interpreted what had just happened. She thought disgust was the reason I didn’t kiss her.
“It’s not funny! You looked like you were going to barf all over the floor.”
I closed my eyes and sighed before responding. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”
This time Michelle laughed.
“It’s not funny,” I said, echoing her earlier words.
“There’s no way it’s true either, so try again.”
“Think about it. When exactly was I going to kiss a girl? I’ve pretty much stayed in my small bubble for the last nineteen years. I wasn’t going out on dates when we were all in high school. I was playing guitar with Matt and working at your dad’s store.”
“You’ve been off at college for the last year.”
“Yeah, and it’s been more of the same.”
She stared at me for a long time.
“So you’ve seriously never kissed anyone?”
I shook my head but was too embarrassed to look at Michelle. She got down on the ground and kneeled in front of me. “Do you want to?”
I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “Of course I want to.”
“Are you scared?”
“Of course, I’m scared.”
“Even though you just performed in front of a bunch of people at The Imperial?”
“At least I knew what I was doing then.”
“I’m going to kiss you, Rainier. And this time you’re not going to run off.”
Tap, tap, tap.
I licked my lips unsure of how to answer. Michelle Matthews was on the ground in front of me and had just said she was going to kiss me. Her mouth curved into a smile as she grabbed my hand and steadied my fingers. I was holding my breath again and forced a shaky exhale.
I closed my eyes and waited.
When her lips first touched mine, I flinched but didn’t move. I tried to relax as she kissed me, but knew I was as stiff and awkward as I’d ever been.
Michelle didn’t laugh.
She also didn’t stop. Eventually, I kissed her back, not entirely sure of what I was doing.
Still, she didn’t laugh.
I got braver as we deepened our kiss. I put my hands in Michelle's hair and didn’t shy away as she planted hers firmly on my cheeks. I never wanted to stop, and for a long time, we didn't.
Even so, when Michelle pulled away, it was much sooner than I hoped.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“I think I’m ready for round two,” I answered, pulling her closer and kissing her again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Michelle
I wished I could say Rainier was a natural. Fortunately, what he lacked in experience, he made up in enthusiasm. The boy was a quick learner, and before I knew what was happening, he was taking the lead and my breath alongside it.
Rainier and I spent about an hour discovering each other before his phone buzzed with a text from one of his bandmates. He apologetically left, but the timing was perfect because my dad came home soon after. He wasn’t overprotective or anything, but that didn’t mean I wanted him walking in on me making out with one of his employees. I could just imagine the fallout from that.
I could barely sleep that night, and when I woke up the next morning, I was still in a daze. I didn't think I'd ever felt this way after kissing a boy. With no plans for the day, I wandered from room to room before eventually settling down on the couch in the living room. The same place I'd spent the day before with Rainier.
I turned on the TV to one of my favorite shows but had a hard time focusing on what was going on. I couldn’t keep my mind from what had happened earlier. My lips were still raw from the stubble above his lips, and I touched my fingers to them trying to remember what it felt like to have his mouth pres
sed against mine.
My phone started ringing, and I stopped to enjoy my current ringtone. I had changed it to one of the songs Rainier and the Go-Aways had played the first night Rainier sang for them. It was the first song he’d ever sung for them, and I knew it would always make me happy. Even though I hadn’t realized how special it was at the time.
Unfortunately, when I flipped my phone over to look at the screen, any giddiness left my body. My mom was calling me. Again. It was the third time this week. For someone who never spoke to her daughter, it had to be a world record.
“What?” I said, answering the call.
“Is that any way to greet your mother?”
“Oh, are you pretending to be my mom again?”
“Really, Michelle, why do you act this way. I just wanted to let you know that Daniel and I just finished setting up a room for you in the house. I’ll text you a pic when–”
“Why?” I interrupted.
“Because I can’t figure out how to send a pic while I’m on the phone. Daniel insists it’s easy, but–”
“Why did you set a room up for me? I told you, I’m not moving in with you.”
“You also told me you were going to stay on campus this year, but I happen to know that’s a lie. Stay with us. It’s closer to the school so you won’t have to make that long drive anymore.”
I rolled my eyes at her words, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Anything else?”
“I’ll level with you, Michelle. I found this article online that said I might be entitled to more money from your father if you were living with me while going to school. I know he threatened to cut you off. How about you quit that crappy bookstore, come live with me, and I’ll promise to pay you a percentage of whatever I end up getting. It's win-win."
Money. All of this fake maternal concern came down to money. And not even actual money, but the possibility of it. I felt like I was going to be sick.
“Dad let me quit.” I refused to offer up the details of why.
“He did that just to spite me.”
"Oh, please."
All The Things We Were Page 11
