Current

by Abby Mccarthy

  I’m mesmerized. His eyes lock onto mine. I’m hopeful that he recognizes me, but if he does, he doesn't give anything away.

  Song after song our eyes remained locked. His eyes are the lightest shade of blue-green. Liz and the two guys join me on the dance floor and attempt to dance with me, but I can't be bothered. I probably look strange just standing here staring, taking him completely in.

  “Your eyes remind me of the sea,” I say. He links his fingers in mine.

  “You know I don't like compliments.”

  “That’s just ‘cause you’re not used to hearing them, but I’ll tell you again and again. They are the most beautiful shade of blue-green I’ve ever seen.”

  “June,” his voice is filled with emotion as he says my name.

  “Do you know how special you are?”

  “June, stop.”

  “No. I wish you’d see what I see, Jake.”

  “You don’t stop, I’m going to kiss you, June.”

  “Then kiss me.” He doesn’t delay. Not even a second. Jake is two years older than my fifteen-year-old self. His lips are tender as they press against mine.

  Sweet.

  Simple.

  Perfection.

  He pulls away all too soon and my lips tingle from his touch. I press my fingertips against my lips. “Kiss me again.”

  “Not much of a dancer are you?” Allen says in my ear all too close. I ignore him too entranced by the stage, too entranced by those eyes. He switches with the lead singer. Some songs are his to sing, others are not.

  Blue-Green Eyes finishes his version of Every Rose Has Its Thorn, brushes his hand through his hair and says into the microphone, “Going to slow it down a bit with a Silent Tide

  original. It’s called Ripple. Then, we’ll take a small break. If you’d like to purchase CD’s or any merchandise, there will be a table set up after the show.”

  The keyboard starts a slow, steady pace. It’s followed by the gentle beat of the drum, next the bass and guitar. It still has a punk feel to it, but it’s a ballad for sure.

  A small bump

  In a series of bumps

  On the surface

  You changed it all

  Everything was one way

  Until my ripple

  You passed through me

  For a moment in time

  Changed the flow

  When you were gone

  You left

  A ripple

  The way you moved in

  It’ll never be the same

  You left

  A ripple

  Driving me insane

  Faster and faster

  It all fell apart

  When you left a ripple

  You stole my heart

  I’m left with little waves

  You tore through me

  The ripple

  I’d never change

  The music stops. The crowd is in quiet awe. It’s a second of silence; a second for the crowd to get their bearings. My heart is beating.

  Thump, thump.

  I barely register the applause.

  Thump. Thump. They’re setting their equipment down.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  He’s getting closer.

  “Hey,” he says, his eyes locked on me.

  I’m suddenly shy. I’m never shy. Could it be him? Does it matter with the way he has entranced me? Of course, it matters. I nervously fiddle with a strand of my black shiny pixie cut, suddenly nervous if my recent trip to Sally Beauty Supply was a good idea. He reaches out and tucks a tiny piece behind my hair and I have the overwhelming need to dye it back.

  “Hi,” I finally say staring back into his eyes.

  Thump. Thump. His eyes are exactly how I remember. Could my mind have altered it to fit? Am I so desperate that I would do that?

  “I’m June.” I want to see if recognition flashes in his eyes, but I see nothing.

  That’s not exactly true, I see so much. I see the beautiful eyes I’ve dreamt about, but I also see a man. The eyes I fell in love with belonged to a boy. His dark hair has a slight curl that hangs over his forehead. He has a small scar along his angular jaw and I itch to reach out and touch it. I want to know how it got there. A black t-shirt that says. “Are you looking at my wiener?” with a picture of a wiener dog hugs his chest. I can see that he’s in shape, but he doesn't look like he’s overly buff. His Levi’s are faded with a tear in the knee and his Chuck Taylor’s tell me he is laid back.

  “June,” he says my name, letting it roll around his tongue, “Have a drink with me.” He doesn't ask. He commands in a soft voice that leaves no room for no.

  I follow him to the bar through the throngs of people. Liz catches me by the arm and whispers in my ear, “He’s hot. I got dibs on our place tonight.” I nod at her and shake off my shivers as I see Blondie lick her neck.

  Allen must have gotten the hint because I walk by him, he's chatting with a table of women. Thank god.

  Ash quickly makes his way to us. “Jameson straight up, and whatever she’s having.”

  “Water for you then, June?” Ash asks.

  I shake my head, “Tequila.”

  Ash raises an eyebrow at me and goes about pouring us drinks.

  “You’re here a lot?”

  “Enough, but not like you might think.” I can't tell him I’m writing about the band, it would ruin the integrity of the piece.

  “Care to elaborate?” He has to almost shout to be heard over the crowd of people.

  “Not really.”

  Ash sets our drinks down in front of us. Blue-Green Eyes hands him a bill and tells him to keep the change. “Are you good, June?” Ash asks me. I can tell he’s concerned. I don't normally drink if I’m here to write about the band.

  “Yeah Ash, I’m good.” I get a head nod from him as he takes his next order.

  “Let’s go to your table; it’s quieter back there,” he says grabbing our drinks.

  Again, I follow him. It’s strange, I haven’t even gotten his name yet, but somehow it feels like I would do whatever he asks of me.

  “What’s your name?” I ask taking my seat. He stands next to me; his drink on the edge of the table; he's in my space.

  My heart is beating, hard. Please say Jake.

  Be him.

  Don't be him.

  I’m indecisive on what I want.

  “Lucas,” he says sliding the glass to me. My face falls a bit, let down that it’s not him. It will never be him. Sometimes, I think I imagined him. The good times, a memory; the bad, a nightmare. Still, there is something drawing me to Lucas. I shift my eyes away from him,, not wanting to give too much away. He grabs my chin between his forefinger and thumb and turns my head to look at him. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. You just reminded me of someone.” I smile at him, not wanting to take away from the undeniable attraction between us.

  “Are you disappointed I’m not him?”

  “I think I’m exactly where I need to be with exactly whom I’m supposed to be with.”

  “You don't seem like you belong here. Yet, the bartender’s looking out for you. What’s your story?”

  “I don't look like I belong?” I ask pretending to be affronted.

  “It’s not that you don't belong. Most of the kids here look like they’re all about the cliques, and you look like you don't care about what anyone is doing but June.” God, the way he says my name.

  “I’m a college student at Cleveland State. Just the same as most of this crowd.”

  “That’s not true, June. Not at all. There is nothing like you that’s the same as everyone else.”

  I feel my face grow warm and I know I’m blushing. I never blush anymore. Why is it that Lucas brings this out of me?

  “We haven't touched our drinks yet.” I want to take the attention off of me so I grab my glass.

  “To new acquaintances,” he clinks his glass to mine. I put my glass to my lips and drink half o
f the small rocks glass. I watch as he does the same. His lips, a light shade of pink are wet as he pulls it away. I lick my lips and relish in the tequila burn.

  The lead singer walks over and throws his arm around Lucas’ shoulder. “Hey brother, five more minutes. You sounded great on the last one. The crowd really dug that shit. We should totally do more originals. Hey, I’m Dietz,” he says to me and I watch Lucas’s body shift so that he is blocking me a little from his friend. It’s not blatant, but I can't help but feel like he subtly claimed me to him.

  “June,” I say raising my hand doing a small wave.

  “Dietz, I’ll be over in a minute,” Lucas says to him and downs the rest of his drink. I follow his lead and finish mine as well. “Will you stay for the next set?” he asks. Besides my obligation for The Scene, there is no way I would leave.

  “I’ll be here,” I say and Lucas brushes his fingers over my short strands of hair across my forehead then walks back up to the small stage. His touch still feels familiar. Even though I know they’re not the same person, I can't shake this feeling.

  Chapter Two

  The next set is just as good as the first, if not better. The crowd is definitely into it. I’m finding their original music to be better than the covers. They all have skills, especially Lucas and Dietz. I sit for the first few songs and then before I know it, Lucas’s eyes have drawn me close to the stage again. Liz takes a break from making out with Blondie and starts to dance next to me.

  “Damn, I haven’t seen two people eye fuck each other like you two ever,” she says over the music. Liz is wearing a red strapless fitted dress. Her long blonde hair falls down past her shoulders but sways and bounces as she moves to the music.

  “Where did your blonde toy go?” I ask.

  “He’s getting us drinks.”

  “Allen? Seriously?” I ask.

  Liz cringes, “Sorry about that, but Mark wouldn’t leave the other place without him.”

  I shudder, “Next time tell them I’m gay.”

  “That will just turn them on,” Liz laughs and I can tell she is fairly inebriated.

  “Maybe you’re right. Make something up that will turn them off the trail then; I don't care what it is.”

  “Fair warning, remember you said this. If a guy thinks you’re into baby play, you’ll know why.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I giggle noticing that the tequila must have affected me, since I hadn't eaten dinner. Liz winks at me, throws her hands up over her head and starts to bounce to the upbeat song. I laugh at my best friend and dance right alongside her, until Mark joins her, followed by Allen. I roll my eyes. I was hoping I was rid of him. Allen puts his hands on my hips and tries to dance with me. I shake my head at him, and tell him I’m not interested.

  “Oh, come on. A pretty little thing like you would have so much fun with someone like me.”

  I peel his hand away from me, “Allen, I think you’re a douche. I’ve been trying to be polite, but don't touch me.”

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he says rather loudly. My eyes are fixed on Lucas. His brow furrows and the tone in his voice while his singing changes. The song has natural anger to it, but the anger in his voice just kicked up about ten notches. Again with his anger, he looks so much like I would imagine Jake to look like.

  “I can't believe he just talked to you like that.” Jake runs his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath, “I hate him, June. I hate him so fucking much.”

  “You don’t mean that.” I wrap my arm around his waist and pull my head onto his chest. We’re standing in the back of the empty, dirty barn and his dad just left. He caught us kissing. He wanted Jake to help him clean the fish he just caught, but he couldn't find him. When he found us in the barn with our lips locked, something we’d been doing a lot of lately, he called me a whore.

  “I mean it, June. I don’t want you anywhere near him. Maybe you should just stay away from me. I’m no good for you.”

  “Jacob Daniels, don't you dare talk like that. I don't care what he calls me.” Jake is angry; angrier than I’ve ever seen him. His brow furrows. He shrugs from my embrace and punches the tall wooden pillar. Blood drips from his knuckle and he rears his fist back to punch it again.

  “No, stop!” I latch onto his arm and do my best to stop him from hurting himself. “Jake, no. Look at me,” I plead trying to get him to let go of his anger. I stop him from hitting the wood again, but the anger is coming off him in waves. “Please don't let him hurt you any more than he already has.”

  “Don’t call my friend a bitch, you asshole!” Liz yells breaking me from my quick memory. Allen flips her off and storms towards the bar. “You okay?” she asks me.

  I do a whatever motion with my hand, flipping it around in the air, brush off the bitch remark and pump one arm up over my head with the beat.

  I take my eyes off of Lucas for a moment and look at Liz. Marc is mouthing “I’m sorry,” to her and pleading with Liz not to be pissed. Maybe Blondie isn't so bad after all; at least he didn't chase after the douche bag.

  I return my attention to the band. I know I need to watch all of them for my article, but it’s hard to avoid the vibes coming from Lucas.

  I can tell Dietz and the bassist also can feel Lucas’s anger and they try to draw him out of his mood by playing around him. It works and Lucas is smiling and back to playing the keyboard with the same easy flow.

  Before long, Dietz is at the microphone. “Thanks for coming out tonight. We’ll be around for a while. We have CD’s and other Silent Tides merchandise available at the table by the door. If you enjoyed the show, buy that shit!” The crowd is clapping and whistling.

  I’m nervous and excited. I look down at my watch, it’s just past twelve-thirty. I’ve been so engrossed in everything that is Lucas that I haven't used the restroom and decide that now is a good time. I’ll give him a second to get off stage and do what he needs to do. There is a line with at least three women ahead of me. I check myself in the mirror while I wait. My hair is still in place after all of my dancing. My blue doe eyes are lined with a charcoal smoky eye that’s slightly smeared. Sweat sticks to the back of my neck, from dancing so I grab a paper towel, wet it, fix my make-up around my eyes, then press it against the back of my neck while continuing the perusal of my outfit. I have a t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, it’s black and reads, punk’s not dead. I’m wearing a jean skirt with little black boots that are barely laced.

  I get it, next to Liz I don't look like I fit in. I’m not one to really care if men like me or not. Either they do or they don't, but I want Lucas to like me. I know I’m small. I’m petite. Always have been. “You might be small, but you got fire,” Jake’s words resonate through my mind and briefly I wonder if they will ever go away.

  I leave the restroom and notice that the line has doubled. Lucas is standing by my table with a few of the band-mates. They have drinks in front of them and a small group of women surround them. I feel like an intruder, but my coat is on the stool. Lucas laughs at something one of the girls says and notices me approaching. His smile brightens.

  Dietz calls my name loudly, “June!”

  I laugh and watch Dietz throw his arms around a woman’s shoulders with long curly dark hair. “Where the heck have you been?” Dietz asks jovially.

  “There was a line,” I say and notice that Lucas pulled out my stool.

  “I got you a drink,” Lucas says. It’s another round of tequila. Normally, I would never take a drink from a guy like this, but I’m slightly buzzed and I oddly feel like I can trust Lucas.

  “Thanks,” I say and do a double-take as a girl with large breasts, even larger fluffed out blond hair and even fewer clothes takes a seat next to me. “I’m Bernie; Eric’s girl,” she says righting herself in her spot.

  “Eric?” I question.

  “I’m Eric,” The bassist with the red skinny jeans says as he sits down across from Malibu Barbie.

  “Hi,” I say to the both of t
hem, but am cut off by Eric when he asks, “Where’s Rhett?”

  I lean in and ask Lucas who is standing on the edge of the table, “Who’s Rhett?”

  “He’s our drummer, and dude I have no idea. He grabbed his sticks and was all like, ‘I’m out.’ as soon as our set was over. Anyone know what’s up with him?” Lucas asks the guys.

  “I think he is ticked off at Joey,” Dietz says. I surmise that Joey must be the guitarist. I look around for him and see that he’s by the front door selling merchandise.

  “Those two have more drama than any chicks I know. If they’re not fighting over the same girl, or griping about a song, then they’re generally inseparable, but seeing as they have the same taste in women and bump heads over music, it hasn't been fun lately,” Bernie says.

  “She’s right. Those two are full of so much bullshit,” Lucas agrees and takes a sip of his dark amber liquid.

  “So Bernie, that’s an unusual name?” I ask.

  “So is June,” Eric says. He has a slight attitude about him, but I’m guessing it’s the fact that he is coming down from a show. I’ve been to enough of these to know that the adrenaline from performing can make them act differently.

  I see Bernie give a kick to Eric’s shin with her white stilettos under the table. “It’s short for Bernadette.”

  “I like it,” I say and decide that I like Bernie.

  “So, June. What’s your gig?” Dietz asks.

  “Good old C.S.U. student,” I say with mock enthusiasm.

  “What’s your major?” Lucas asks me. He’s quieter than the rest of the guys. But it seems like he really wants to know my answer.

  “English,” I say taking a sip of my tequila.

  I see Liz on the other side of the room headed towards me. Her hair bounces from side to side as she sways her hips. Mark follows behind her as if an invisible leash has him tethered and that’s how she likes it.