by Lisa Loomis
I remembered I was so glad to be sitting next to him, our arms touching slightly. Bathing in pure pleasure just to be close to him.
“How do you remember stuff like that?”
He grinned and squeezed my hand. Oh, Mathew.
“I remember a lot when it comes to you.”
“I’m sorry about threatening to move,” he teased.
“It’s not fair. I don’t want this to end, you and me.”
“We’ll keep in touch, you’ll come back,” he kissed me softly.
When the last boarding call came, he hugged me tightly to him. People rushed around us with their luggage. I waited until the last passenger had entered the door to the gate before I pulled away.
“Take care, kid,” he said, smiling.
I turned and walked quickly towards the door. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want him to see the tears.
Chapter 30
The school year was a hard one. I missed Mathew. I missed my friends. I tried to make new ones, but it wasn’t easy.
“When are you coming back?” he’d asked on our last phone call.
He wasn’t great about keeping in touch, only calling occasionally, mostly I figured when there wasn’t a girl around. I had to be realistic, he wasn’t waiting for me, and he was the lead singer in a rock and roll band.
“I don’t know yet. I’ve got to work it out with my folks.”
It was during the last week of school when Gayle’s mother called me. Gayle had been hit head-on by a drunk driver on the expressway. He had been going the wrong way and she was in the hospital. Gayle had been crushed by the steering wheel and the front of the car. They’d had to cut her out with the Jaws of Life. It had broken both her legs and crushed a kneecap. She would be a long time healing.
“Jane, I’m coming right away,” I said.
“Morgan, she doesn’t want anyone to see her. She’s almost in a body cast. She might not be happy about it,” Jane said.
Jane wasn’t very persuasive and I thought she might actually be feeling it would be a good thing for Gayle if I came.
“I don’t care what she looks like. I need to come support her, be there for her. I was coming at some point anyway. Is it all right if I plan to stay awhile?” I asked.
“You can stay as long as you like,” she said.
I planned on a month. My mom spoke to Ann about staying at the O’Conner’s too if need be. Mathew was never far from my mind during the school year and I’d written him letters. He never wrote back. When we talked on the phone it was like we hadn’t missed a day, we talked about everything, except other relationships. We’d come to an unspoken agreement to not venture there. From digging with Gayle, I knew he’d dated, but it didn’t sound like any one seriously. Kingdom Come was playing around town in San Jose, all kind of gigs. The party scene followed the band and with it the girls. I didn’t even want to think of the girls that followed them.
I had gone to a few parties in Escondido over the school year, nothing that interested me much. The kids at my school didn’t seem as experimental as the San Jose crowd. I didn’t see much except alcohol and pot. I felt like I’d gone backwards in time from where I’d come. Even the boy, girl relationships seemed immature compared to what I knew, or thought I knew. I tried to be interested in the boys but wasn’t. I compared them to Mathew, and no one measured up.
I flew into town the day Gayle got out of the hospital. Mathew had promised he would pick me up. And he was there, waiting at the same gate I’d walked out of last summer. He was leaning against the wall, wearing loud clothes he’d started to love—I smiled at his paisley button-down shirt and white shorts. Tan, with his blond hair longer, he looked wonderful. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had told myself not to expect too much, not be disappointed.
My heart thumped in my chest and butterflies filled my stomach, and I wanted to race into his arms, but held back. When he saw me a big smile spread across his face. He didn’t move from his position against the wall, instead waited for me to reach him. I filed along with the exiting crowd.
“Hey, kid,” he said pushing off of the wall when I reached him, grabbing me up in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
I sucked in my breath; he’d missed me, and was willing to say it.
“You don’t even know.”
We talked as we walked through the airport and then at baggage claim, about the flight, his parents, my parents, school, the weather, and Gayle. When we got in the car, he finally pulled me to him. The time apart vanished when he kissed me. My feelings came rushing back like a tidal wave, making me light-headed.
“I have a place we can go,” he said accompanied by his sexy grin.
I took this to mean we were back. The relief spread through me like warm water. Suddenly I was very aware of how much I had worried about this moment. As much as I wanted to go with him, I knew Jane was expecting me. Gayle didn’t know I was coming, and I couldn’t risk messing up the surprise.
“Mathew, I have to go to Gayle’s first. We’ll have time,” I said, pulling him back to me.
He held my face with his warm hands and gave me a quick taste of that kiss. My body responded to his touch like there had been no distance. He sat back in his seat smiling and started the car. I watched the muscles in his arm as he turned the key.
“I don’t like the answer, but I understand. I hear she’s in pretty bad shape,” he said.
As we drove I asked Mathew what he knew about the accident, and he gave me the short version of what the papers had reported.
“I will call you about getting together,” I said when he dropped me at Gayle’s.
I physical ached to be with him, and still I worried what this trip would mean, wanting to get the Mathew back from last summer so badly.
“Make it soon,” he said.
Gayle was in the family room when I arrived; she started to cry when I walked in the room. Her whole lower body was in casts as was her wrist. White plaster ran the full length of each leg and then stopped at her hips, then another cast was around her pelvis. It looked miserable. Small cuts ran up and down her arms from the glass. I started to cry too. We’d been friends since we were eight. We grew up together, shared a lot of secrets, and always were there for each other. I went to her, hugging her gently, afraid if I touched her I could hurt her.
“Gayle, I’m so sorry,” I cried as I tried to ignore all the casts.
“I had planned on such a good summer, I was looking forward to your visit, and now it’s been completely destroyed,” she sobbed. “And who knows how all this will turn out, even the doctors aren’t sure.”
Jane had forewarned me, but it still shook me. The first few days, I stayed solely with Gayle. We played games, watched movies on TV, I read to her. I helped Jane get her up and move her around. I talked with Mathew on the phone every day. He wanted to see me bad. Gayle and I caught up on the school year: our old friends in San Jose, my new friends in San Diego.
“Tell me about Mathew,” she finally brought up one afternoon.
I smiled, feelings for him flooding into my head and heart.
“He picked me up at the airport, and so far so good.”
She shifted her position slowly and just watching her was painful.
“Morgan, be cautious,” she said, concerned.
“With Mathew, my Mathew, have I ever been cautious?” I joked.
“I’m serious.”
The TV was on low in the corner of the family room, voices on it almost inaudible. There were shelves above it that were full of books; Jane loved to read.
“Gayle, I wouldn’t expect anything different from you in regards to him. I’m a big girl. Mathew’s been in my life for years. You don’t think I know what he’s capable of? Good and bad?”
She moved her arm and I was tempted to jump up and help her, I felt so useless.
“He’s changed,” she said softly.
“Changed how? He looked the same to me, maybe even hotter. He still kisses me the same.
He still makes me feel the same,” I said fanning my face.
“Oh god, already?” she moaned.
“Relax, we just kissed. I had to see you first.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“Banged-up me over sex with Mathew? Now that does shock me,” she smiled. “Surprised you two didn’t do it while he was driving you here.”
“Believe me, I thought about it,” I laughed.
“Morgan, you’ve been away. A lot can change.”
I suddenly felt like there was more behind her concern. I thought maybe she knew about a girl he was seeing and didn’t want me to know. I thought about Ben, and last summer.
“Just tell me what you want to warn me about.”
“The band plays a lot now: parties, clubs. They're well known. They play together. They party together. There are groupie girls who follow them around, and he’s more than popular. He’s really into it all. He likes the attention, thrives on it, Morgan.”
She had been to a fair share of events where Kingdom Come played. She probably was leaving out parts that might hurt me. Parts she’d witnessed firsthand.
“Gayle, this isn’t new…girls fawning over him.”
“Not new maybe, but more. Don’t expect it to be the same as last summer. Be prepared.”
Her words stung.
“I can’t expect it to be the same. For one, it can’t be because I want to hang with you,” I said defensively.
“You know what I mean.”
I turned from her and stared at the TV. I’d prepared myself hadn’t I? I’d told myself not to be disappointed.
“Okay, if it’s not, it’s not. That also would not be a surprise with Mathew. We have an understanding to let it be whatever it is,” I said.
Gayle gave me an exasperated look.
“Morgan, you are so full of shit. You talk big. You have loved him forever. You are blind when it comes to him, girl. I know you’re tough, but not where he’s concerned. Don’t let him hurt you.”
She was vulnerable and hurt, physically and emotionally. She didn’t want me to get hurt emotionally for more than one reason. She was not up to it.
“I won’t, I promise,” I answered.
If I did get hurt, I wouldn’t burden her with it. I owed her that.
“Since when did I love him forever?”
“Whatever,” she said, “keep lying to yourself.”
I called Mathew that night, and he asked about Gayle.
“She’s definitely fragile,” I said.
“Can you please get out tomorrow night?” he asked. “And stay?”
“Where?”
“We can stay at Jack’s place,” he said. “Dinner first?”
“A date,” I teased.
“No, more comfortable,” he said with a smile in his voice.
I told Jane I wouldn’t be back that night. She was cool. She knew what was going on and didn’t pry. Gayle had filled her in. When Mathew picked me up, he seemed anxious. I thought maybe he wanted to go straight to Jack’s.
“Where are we going?”
“Circus Room,” he said.
I laughed and he grinned at me, knowing.
“You’re kidding?”
The Circus Room was a funky pool bar that served a mean burger in Old Almaden. Our parents had taken us there many times. I remembered us as kids shooting pool while our parents had drinks.
“No, I’m not kidding.”
I actually thought it was cool, a place from our past, a place that connected us in more ways than now. When we walked in, Mathew said hello to the bartender and got us a booth, sitting next to me instead of across.
“Hey, Matt,” the waitress greeted him with a smile.
This was clearly a place where he was known.
“Betty, this is Morgan,” he introduced us.
She was mid-thirties I guessed, bleached blonde hair, rough around the edges. I could tell she liked his looks.
“A pitcher to start,” Mathew said.
“You got it,” she said as she turned back toward the bar.
My mouth dropped open. No I.D.?” I leaned towards him.
“So, you own the joint or what? She didn’t even card us.”
“That’s why I come here.”
Betty brought the pitcher with two frosted glasses. Perfectly frosted, I could tell they’d been in the freezer. Mathew poured us both a beer, down the side of the glass, no foam. I flashed to Kevin’s party, which seemed so long ago.
“You two eating?” Betty asked.
“Yeah. Burger?” he questioned.
“I could do a burger.”
“You got it,” she said, setting down silverware.
We drank beer and talked while we waited for the food. Mathew caressed my leg and kissed me frequently. Gayle’s concerns seemed ridiculous now. Betty brought the burgers, with a smile that gave me an indication of her thoughts, set them on the table. He affected women, all ages.
“I forgot how big they were,” I said, seeing that it almost filled the plate.
I could only eat half. Once we finished the pitcher, I could tell Mathew wanted to get going.
“Let’s go,” he said, throwing money on the table.
“Do you want to take this?” I asked.
“Not really,” he said.
“Take it. Jack might be hungry.”
Betty boxed it and smiled again at Mathew.
“Good now?” he asked.
He reached for my hand, pulling me from the booth. The smell of burgers grilling filled the parking lot, thick smoke rising into the air. It made me remember the night my mom broke the light over the pool table with her stick. We were there with the O’Conner’s and my mom had challenged Brad, and she was actually winning. When she called the pocket for the eight ball, we all watched. She lined it up perfectly and sunk it. She was so excited, she jumped up, lifting her cue straight up, shattering the light. Glass fell all over the table. Oops. Memories were so weird.
Chapter 31
“What next?” I asked as I got in the car.
“Jack’s. I stay there pretty often.”
Jack was in the band and lived in a house off Camden Avenue with his girlfriend. Older than us, he was the one I’d teased Mathew about crawling into bed with. When we got to the house, there was a small party going on.
“Hey, Morgan,” Jack said when we walked in.
I hadn’t seen Jack since the crazy Thanksgiving. He came over and gave me a hug. Jack was a tad taller than me, Italian, olive skin, long brown hair that was layered in front, dark brown eyes, handsome.
“Good to see you,” he said.
I wondered if Mathew knew about the party, because if he did, he hadn’t mentioned it.
“Drink? Beer, wine, hard stuff?” he offered.
I could smell pot, but no one was currently smoking.
“Come on,” Mathew motioned, and I followed him into the kitchen.
“I’ll stick with beer,” I said.
He grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one. He poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels from the bottle that was sitting on the counter, throwing it back.
“Yes?” he asked, holding the shot glass towards me.
He poured me one before I answered, handing it to me. I threw it back. We partied for a while. I talked to Jack’s girlfriend, Emily; not exactly what I was hoping for. I couldn’t drink any more; I was loaded. I watched Mathew have a couple more shots and could tell he was feeling no pain. A joint got passed around, and I declined. A pretty blonde kept flirting with Mathew.
“Oh, Matt,” I would hear her say and then laugh.
I wondered when he had started letting people call him Matt. It had always been Mathew. I noticed she was friendly with her touch as well. They were far enough away that I couldn’t hear their conversation. People were chatting and laughing around me, and all I could think of was bed, and preferable with Mathew. I went to where he was talking and pulled him off to one side.
“Mathew
, where are we sleeping?” I asked, hoping he was as ready as I was to be alone together.
“Downstairs,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
I followed him down the stairs. He opened a door to a small room that was pretty stark. It had a queen-size bed and a dresser with an oval mirror above it. There were several guitars leaning against the wall: acoustic and electric. The bed was made, with what I hoped were clean sheets.
“This work?”
“This works,” I said, putting my arms around his neck and kissing him.
“You don’t want to party anymore?”
“I’m done partying. I want to be with you.”
He gave me a boyish grin, not the one I expected, not the one that made me hot with desire.
“Okay, I’ll go say goodnight,” he said.
I used the bathroom, brushing my hair and teeth, washing my face. Mathew wasn’t back when I finished. I lay down on the bed in my clothes, listening to the party continue upstairs. I started watching the clock: fifteen, twenty minutes, an hour. I picked up his guitar and strummed it; this wasn’t cool. I heard the blonde laugh. I thought about leaving, wanting him to find me gone, and realized I was stuck. Tired of waiting, I looked for something to throw on as a nightgown. I found one of Mathew’s T-shirts in the dresser. I undressed and put it on, it smelled like him. I felt weird getting into this strange bed alone. I closed my eyes, thinking he would be there any minute. The longer I lay there, the madder I got.
Was that why he’d seemed anxious, anxious to party? I couldn’t stop analyzing. I tossed and turned trying to go to sleep to no avail. When he finally crawled into bed, I glanced at the alarm clock. Three a.m. My blood boiled.
“Morgan?” he whispered.
Wide-awake, I lay still, my back to him. He pressed into me, he was naked and warm.
“Morgan, it’s me.”
He shook my shoulders gently. When I still didn’t respond he pulled me over onto my back.
“Well, I would hope,” I answered, angrily.
I could tell he was higher than when I left him. He smelled of liquor and pot.
“You’re still dressed,” he said, running his hand down my side feeling the T-shirt.
