Chapter 16 – Dallas
I can hear her body shuffling around, and then finally, feel her warm thighs, barely concealed in those tiny shorts she’s wearing press firmly against my leg.
Before the lights went out, I’d caught a fleeting glimpse of her outfit: dark black ripped shorts with a strategically placed tear just below one of her cheeks, black combat boots, and a snug, cropped black spaghetti-strap top.
It was the quintessential rock star look, and while it wasn’t something that would have caught my eye in the past, I found myself completely captivated by it today.
Captivated by her.
I try picturing how we must look sitting here in the darkness next to each other.
My legs folded in half attempting to fit into the tight space on the floor.
Her curvy frame nestled neatly against mine as close as she can possibly get.
I feel a shiver ripple through her body as she presses in closer.
“Are you cold?”
“No. Sometimes I shake when I get anxious. I think it’s a precursor to an anxiety attack. It feels like there's no air circulation in here.”
"I can feel a cooler draft coming from below us. Just try to focus on your breathing again.”
“Ok…” her voice trails off as I hear her struggle through a few more labored breaths that begin worrying me. She’s at an even higher risk of passing out if she struggles with anxiety.
“Do you want to place your hand over my heart again.”
“Please,” her warm hand slides up my body, landing over my heart where it rests as I hear her breathing slow to a gentler cadence. I can feel our bodies start to sync as we sit there, resting quietly in the heavy silence.
“Have you watched any of the ‘Final Destination’ movies?”
I laugh because I know where she’s going with this. “A few.”
“Well, I used to think my greatest fear was death via a bunch of old logs rolling off of the back of a tractor trailer but now I’m realizing it’s actually plummeting in an elevator to the basement of a shitty office building.”
“That’s not going to happen today.”
“How can you be so sure?”
I shrug, “I just am.”
Because there’s no way I’m dying the same day that I finally meet her. We’ve got too much history and I’m starting to think, a future, too.
She’s silent for a few moments. “Do you want to play the game twenty questions? I think I need a distraction from our impending fall.”
I chuckle, “Sure. You go first.”
Perhaps this was a dangerous game to play with her, I know this situation could spiral out of control quickly based on the questions she decides to ask and I didn’t want to lie to Dove, but I also didn’t want to send her into a panic by revealing that she’s trapped in an elevator with her old pen pal—someone she might not want to see given the nature of the last letter that she'd sent me.
Goodbye for forever…
I’ll just keep things… vague.
She’s silent for a few minutes as she thinks, and I imagine her biting down on one of those plump lips I noticed in her high school photo that I'd stared at for way too long.
Stop thinking about her like that...
But I can’t help it. I want to see her in the daylight and confirm if it’s her but beyond that, I’m dying to know if she’s the same light-hearted, carefree woman I’d been friends with.
Had becoming a rock star changed her? Did she still have that same quick wit and humor she’d possessed in her teen years?
“Ok. Let's start with an easy one. What are you doing at the Lonestar Junction government offices the day before Thanksgiving?” she asks.
“I recently moved into town and haven’t updated my driver's license with my new address. I was headed to the 4th floor DMV to do that.”
“You’re new to town?”
“Yep, moved here a few months ago.”
“Ok, and you chose to update your driver’s license the day before Thanksgiving? That’s a random day to pick.”
“Does this count towards one of your questions?”
She laughs, “No, it’s a continuation of the original one.”
I hum as I think “Ok. Fine. I’ll allow it. Yes, I chose today because I didn’t have anything else going on and needed distraction. I figured the offices would be slow since most people are with their families today.”
That's the truth.
“You aren’t spending the holidays with your family?” she asks.
I realize this has turned into more than just a single question, but I decide to play along. Her breathing has slowed and steadied, so the distraction of this game seems to have worked on that front.
“Not this year.”
She’s quiet for a moment, probably overanalyzing why I don’t want to go home to see my family.
Her letters had revealed that her family meant a lot to her, so I was sure it was disappointing for her to hear this stranger doesn’t want to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with his parents.
The fact that she was on tour and still made a point to fly home tells me that she prioritizes family even in adulthood.
And it isn’t that I don’t want to see my parents, but that I was determined to get settled here first and make a new home and friendships.
Being an only child, all of the attention had consistently been on me my entire life and holidays weren’t a huge affair.
Not to mention Dove's letter from a few days ago changed my interest in leaving. From the second I’d read that letter and taken the first shot of whiskey with Wylie, I knew I’d eventually be hunting her down to finally meet her, new boyfriend included if she decided to bring him with her.
I decide to change the subject before she gets a chance to ask where my family is located.
“Ok, I think it’s my turn for a question. What are you doing at the government offices the day before Thanksgiving?”
“I’m here to pay a past-due tax bill that’s been haunting me, even though I haven’t lived in town for over a year.”
“Where do you live now?” my interest is piqued. Stevie said she was on tour, but she never mentioned her home base.
“Los Angeles.”
What the hell? She moved to my hometown.
My heart tightens as I realize the irony in this situation.
Of course, she’d live in Los Angeles—that’s where every rock star seemed to end up and where all of the producers and recording studios were located.
This twist of fate that had me moving to her hometown just as she was moving to mine feels like a cruel joke from the universe.
It’s as if we’ve always been two ships passing each other in the night, unaware of how close we’ve come to crossing paths.
I wondered if there’ve been any other times where we’ve been in the same city and not known it. I wonder if she thought of me when she first moved there.
“Do you like living there?”
She’s silent, and then blows out a steady breath of air. “It’s loud.”
I bark out a laugh, causing her hand to drop from my chest. I remember her saying that the silence was what she'd appreciated most about growing up in Lonestar Junction. There was certainly no peace or solace in Los Angeles.
"Jeez, do you always laugh that loudly? You scared the shit out of me."
I chuckle, "Sorry."
I wish she’d place her hand back on me, but she doesn’t as she continues.
“Everyone in LA is busy. I try to make plans with people during my downtime to hang out, but all they want to do is go to photo worthy spots for their social media posts. You don't know who you can trust, who actually wants to be your friend because they enjoy your presence or if they just want access to what you can give them. I’ve become mostly numb to all of that now. I guess you have to be when you work in the entertainment industry. That’s why I like visiting here, people treat me like I’m normal.
I was reading an article about myself when I walked into the elevator.
An article that was full of lies from a journalist who I'd thought liked me.
That's why I was distracted and didn't notice you were in here.”
I hum softly in understanding. I know all too well the toll of selfishness in the industry.
As a child, I’d watched my mom endure infidelity by my dad that’d almost destroyed her career.
After she left him, he tried to ruin her reputation in the industry out of spite and ego.
Despite being the one to cheat on her, he didn’t want to let her go.
Thankfully, my stepdad stepped in to offer her the support and stability she needed, helping her get back into acting and secure her career and our safety.
“What did the article say?”
She’s quiet, “Basically that I hate all men.”
I snort.
She smacks my chest lightly, “It’s obviously not true, and I never said that during the interview either. He completely exploited and twisted the words I used.”
“I believe you. That’s what a lot of journalists do.”
She sighs, “Ok, my turn again. What made you decide to move to Lonestar Junction?”
“I bought a farm. Wanted to do something different and move somewhere quieter.”
“Well, you definitely picked the right place for that. Have you ever farmed before?”
“Nope.”
She laughs, “I don't think it's something you just decide to pick up and learn one day.”
I shrug in the darkness, “I’m realizing that, but I’m learning quickly. I have some help and already turned my garden around enough to produce onions, sweet potatoes, and strawberries. Donating them to the new co-op in town.”
“I’ve heard about Nourish. My friend Stevie started it.”
I don’t respond, not wanting to give myself away and admit that I know Stevie too.
“Ok, my turn. What made you want to get into the entertainment industry?”
She’s quiet for a few moments. “I’ve always loved singing...”
Knew that.
“My parents were always incredibly supportive and encouraged me to pursue my dreams. When I was in high school, I started taking voice lessons, but I never really wanted to become famous, I just cared about the music. I wasn’t sure I wanted it to become a career.”
She’s quiet as I wait, already knowing that there’s more to her story.
“Ok, so it sounds stupid if I tell you the exact thing that pushed me to pursue singing full time at nineteen years old because my songs are full of feminism themes and independence, but oh well, it was a boy that encouraged me to confidently pursue my dreams during a time in my life where I severely lacked confidence and direction.”
I sit as still as stone, absorbing her confession. My breath slows as I take in every word.
“Well, I guess he wasn’t a boy. He was more like a man at the time,” she continues.
Is she talking about me?