15. Noah
Noah
Ipick up the guitar case, pushing it into the back of the van as I finish packing up.
Tony and Vince should be assisting us, but Tony grabbed a beer and started to entertain a few brunettes working behind the bar.
One of them he’s been crushing on for a while, and he can’t seem to get her to crack.
Vince leans against the side of the bar next to the gurgling gutters and dumpsters.
He’s with a blonde shoving her tongue down his throat, and her leg perched up against his thigh.
When she drops to her knees and unzips his pants, I look away.
Omen lectures me about distractions preventing us from getting this demo done, but they can’t seem to control themselves either. At this rate, Omen is the only one keeping us in place. But it is my band – my lyrics, my vocals, and all the decisions are put on me.
“Round them up.” I close the van door, letting Omen know I want to get out of here. My eyes get heavier by the second, knowing it will be an hour drive before I get home.
“Wish me luck.” Omen runs a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ knock that shit off, and let’s go!” His feet splash through the puddles as Vince continues fucking that girl’s face.
“Give me a minute!” he hollers.
“Hey!” Charlie emerges, going downtown on a piece of gum. She runs her finger against the van and leans her head against the metal. She’s too pretty. The button nose, the dimples caving in the second she smiles at me... and I can’t get over her natural tan skin.
“Hey, Trouble. I thought you’d left,” I say, as my throat dries up.
After we finished our final song, the crowd was too amped up.
They were begging for one more song – shouting it over and over again.
I just wanted to see Charlie, but she disappeared.
My heart doubled over when I lost sight of her, and I figured it was too much for her.
The music gets loud, people will mosh, shoving each other around.
People can get knocked over and kicked around.
I spent a good hour talking to fans and taking pictures before the crowd dispersed. Even some random chick begged me to sign the inside of their sweaty moist shoe.
“Noah...” Charlie twirls her foot around in a circle and bites her bottom lip. “Wow... I can’t even describe it... you were...” She puts her hands to her rosy cheeks, tapping those pink nails along soft skin.
“I choked on my hair a few times. I know.”
She tilts her head back, giggling. “No!” She reaches for my upper arm, and I get all warm and mushy inside as her silver eyes glimmer in the moonlight.
“You’re really good,” she’s slurring a bit, “I can’t. Just wow. Wow! I’ve never heard anything like that.” She blows out a tiny gum bubble that pops softly.
“It’s called metal,” I smile as she tugs her shirt down.
She might as well forget about it. She needs to showcase her outie belly button and her toned hourglass figure.
I almost forgot the lyrics tonight with her standing in the far back, soaking it all in.
A little over a hundred people showed up, and they remembered my lyrics better than me, and when it slipped my mind, I’d point the mic at them.
“I’ve listened to metal before, but most of them just scream, and I get so bored with the same thing, but you sang. You have a really good voice. I see why all those girls are obsessed with you. Did you write those lyrics too?” she rambles.
“Yeah, I try to write decent songs.”
“So are you going to go home with anyone?” She sways side to side, and there’s a glint in her eyes. “You know... like with a... with a girl?” There’s a faint hint of alcohol on her breath. The cinnamon gum doesn’t even cover it. She’s a bit intoxicated, and I’m not sure how much she drank.
She looks over my shoulder at Vince, covered in shadow, grabbing the girl’s hair, still going at it.
“Do you plan on doing that too?” she asks, grasping my hoodie strings, humming as she tugs me to get closer.
“Like at the party. You gonna have someone go down...” she hiccups. “Go down on you again?”
“Are you good to drive?” I reach out to touch her face, and end up stroking her hair. She moans, grasping my hand, squeezing it. When her eyes close and her head spins, I don’t think I’ll trust her answer.
“I can be that girl... like the one at the party.”
My dick twitches. “I don’t think you should drive.”
“Hmm, yeah. I’m good... but are you? Are you leaving here with a...with a...”
Now I regret letting the bartender shower her with drinks. “Where are your car keys?”
“Umm...” Her purse falls to her wrist as she struggles to unzip it, and she digs around. I’m tempted to grab it and pour everything out onto the wet concrete. The keys jingle, but she ends up pulling out a Sharpie instead. “Oh look,” she chuckles with a snort, popping off the cap.
“No... no.” I wag a finger at her. “We aren’t going to vandalize anything tonight.”
“I already did...” She bites her bottom lip, swaying back and forth. “I wrote...” she giggles, covering her lips as she hiccups. “I wrote ‘Noah is hot, and I’d bang him,’ in the bathroom.”
Wait what? I blink through those words and let them settle in my head. It’s hard not to laugh with her. “Hand over the marker...” I wiggle my fingers in a give-me motion.
“No, you’ve gotta beg for it.”
I reach for the marker, but she leans her arm away.
“Okay, where are your keys? I can’t let you drive like this.”
“Hmm...” she manages to say and starts pawing through her purse again and manages to pull them out. I snatch them out of her hand as there’s no way she’s getting into her car by herself.
Vince groans in the alley. As I look back he finishes and zips up his jeans.
“Come on!” Omen shouts. He comes back over with Vince and Tony by the ears. They both have their tails between their legs as they open the van doors. “Let’s go! I wanna get out of here,” Omen says.
“Hey.” I swallow the lump in my throat, seeing the angry glint in Omen’s eyes. The second I glance back at Charlie, I have no other choice but to say, “I’m going to drive her home.”
Omen tilts his head back with an eye roll. “You could just be honest and tell us what you're really up to.”
“She’s drunk, and I’m not.”
Omen points a finger at me. “I swear, if you fucking drink anything other than water tonight, it will be your grave. And use a damn condom.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
I take Charlie’s hand and pull her up to the sidewalk as Omen flips me off before getting into the driver’s seat. He ignites the engine. Britney Spears blasts through the speakers again. The red brake lights flash as they pull out and drive off.
“Where’s your car?” I wrap my arm around Charlie’s shoulder, twirling the keys as she points to the little Civic that looks oddly familiar. The little dent remains in the center of the bumper. I should be able to spot this car in any parking lot.
“So, can I be the girl you take home tonight?” She lifts her head up at me as we stroll down the parking lot.
She attempts to pry the keys out of my hands, and I say, “No, you're not driving. You’re gonna get into the passenger seat.” I open the door for her, and she easily plops in, and her head falls back onto the headrest.
I fiddle with the driver’s seat. God, she’s short. The seat is pushed all the way forward and raised as high as it can be. I play with the mirrors and once I feel good, I close the door shut, starting the car.
“Charlie,” I run a hand over her shoulder, but she mumbles with her eyes heavy when she opens them. “Where do you live?”
“With you.”
Ha-ha. Real funny. “You’ve gotta give me your address.” I buckle and wrap my fingers around the fluffy leopard-patterned steering wheel. I pause, staring at it as I hadn’t noticed it before. “Well, well, well, we must be back in the 90s.”
“Oh, you like my car?” She asks, batting her eyes. “Well actually it's my mom’s car. She’s supposed to give it to me but umm...” She hiccups and smiles. “She’s going through a divorce and all she cares about is wine and her refill of oxy...”
“Oh...” I say.
“Shit that just got dark.”
“All you need is the dice in her rearview mirror, and you’re golden.”
“Noah...” She pulls out a gum wrapper and crumbles up her used gum, throwing it into her purse.
“I wanna be with you tonight.” She almost sounds sincere, but I know those are drunk thoughts, and to me, drunk thoughts are only feelings that are true the moment they're spoken. Tomorrow they won’t mean a damn thing.
“Charlie...”
“No, I’m not telling you.” She yanks on the seat belt and pulls it too quickly, so it locks up. She grumbles, pulling and tugging until she gets it to unlock. She buckles herself in and leans back. “I don’t wanna go home. I wanna be somewhere else. Please can I be with you?”
I huff, throwing my arm over the headrest and looking out the rear window backing out. As we drive, I try to get her to tell me her address. I ask if she lives near the church, and she just teases me, saying I want to stalk her.
Within twenty minutes of our drive, her head falls to the window, and it starts to rain again. These windshield wipers are trash as they scrape against the window. They barely work, and the road becomes a black haze.
Water dances across the window, and the streetlights flash across her face as I get closer to my apartment.
I’m only five minutes away from my exit, and dread settles into my chest. Only my bandmates know my living situation, and if I take her there, she’ll wake up in the morning realizing I’m more pathetic than the persona I’ve introduced her to.
“Hey, Charlie.” I run my hand down the back of her head, and she opens her heavy eyes and wipes the edge of her mouth with a hand. “You either tell me where you live, or I take you to my apartment. I have to take the next exit.”
“Your place sounds better.” She’s adamant. I mouth a curse under my breath as I exit the freeway.