Free Fiction Friday - G's Chapter 7

 

Previously – Dorrie told a love story, Glenna and April got lost in the role gender plays in punk rock songs, Sean told Tom of some break-ins, and Oscar’s being an ass.



   “I need a beer!  Glenna, Glenna, I need another beer,” April is loud.

   “Is anyone else going to tell stories tonight?” I ask.

   “Yeah, no shit.  HEY, who else is gonna tell a story?”  April shouts into the bar.

    There’s hardly anyone left in here.  Two cabbies are still sitting in the corner in the dark.  Sean, oh crap, Sean.  Sean is still at a table.  I need to talk to him, so he can tell me himself.  “Lost in The Supermarket” is playing on the jukebox.  

   “So, I hear there’s been some violence in the neighborhood?”  I say as I sit down again at the table with Sean.

   “Yes.  It’s not good, Glenna.  I went back through the police report that we filled out last year.  I thought maybe there would be something to connect to the break-ins we’ve seen recently.  Nothing stood out.  I feel like we missed something.  I also still feel like whoever it was is still hanging around.”  

   “I try not to think on it much, Sean.  I don’t want to.  But, I believed then and I still believe now that they have been in the bar more than once to drink.  We’ve had this conversation.  It must have been people that I know or knew.  Are the recent break-ins targeted or crimes of opportunity?”  I ask.

   “That’s a good question, and I believe that there are two different people or groups working this area right now.  I also believe the most recent break-in was committed by the same people that attacked you.  I have nothing to go on but feelings, though,” he says.  

   “Well, please know that I feel safe, and I am alert, and I keep the doors locked while I clean up now,” I say.  “But, I will keep my eye open when I am outside.”

   “Good.  I am going to hang around a little tonight, though,” he says.

   “Cool.  Maybe if I feel the need, I’ll tell that story tonight,” I say.

   “It’s about time.”

   Then April bursts in on the mic. “I’m up.  I got a romantic story.  It kinda sucks and all, but it’s romantic.” “Fuckin’ With My Head” by BL’AST has already started to play.

    I snuck out.  It was summer, gorgeous at 10pm.  Black Cons on my feet, blue jeans, Sid Vicious shredded shirt on my back.  He told me he'd meet me in the empty cul-de-sac in the subdivision next to mine.  I grabbed my flannel and wrapped it around my waist before I left.  I figured it'd take me 20 minutes or so to get there.  He was gorgeous.  He was younger than me.  It was never a good set up, but we were on fire for each other.  Ohhh…that sounds so cheesey.  But it was.  It had to be.  He was my first love.

   Earlier that day we were up at school skating.  I had my board with me, but I was so nervous to try to skate in front of him.  I opted to sit and smoke cigarettes most of the afternoon instead.  A few of my friends were there early on.  We joked and horsed around.  He would skate over to where we were talking and screwing around, take a drag from my smoke, kiss me, and then go skate again.  He was showing off and being cute.  I became an idiot.  Not on purpose you know, but it happened.  I would have fucking done anything for his attention.  I tried doing normal shit, but mostly I did stupid shit.  I couldn't help it.  Stupid teenage April was on fire that day.  He, on the other hand, was too cool to sit and hold my hand that day.  It should have been obvious to me.  Fuck.  It should have been fucking obvious.  I mean, looking back now, I wanted to be equal and in my head I wasn't.  His friends were first, maybe I was 2nd or 3rd?  As an adult now, I'd love to know what he thought then.  Would he say that he looked up to me?  Would he say I was easy to use and throw away?  I'm pretty sure he'd say I was crazy, but you all even know that.

    Anyway, I got snippets of his attention that day.  He got all of mine.  But I was happy watching him land tricks, watching him fall, hearing him laugh with his friends.  I loved it and him.  He skated over to me and told me his mom was picking him up at 4.  It was close to 4.  

     "Meet me in the empty cul-de-sac we were skating last weekend.  Meet me tonight at like 11," he said to me as his bangs fell into his eyes.

    What could I do?  I had a shit eating grin plastered on my face and fear rising underneath.  I said ‘ok’  “He kissed me quick, smiled, and skated back to his friends.  Within 5 minutes his mom pulled up in her purple station wagon.  She glared at me.  He didn't even wave; he just hopped in the car and off they went. I remember being crushed, then excited, then crushed again.  I mean, what the fuck, he couldn't even fucking wave or, shit, nod in my direction?

       My friends had been warning me for weeks that he was gonna break my heart.  I couldn't listen to them anymore.  I drew his name on my hand, my arm, my chest.  I withdrew so that I could be available if he ever wanted to hang out.  Fear took over when I thought about missing a call from him, or missing an opportunity to see him.  We didn't go to the same school, so I couldn't just fucking run into him in the halls.  Well, I wouldn't have anyway.  I was in summer school; he wasn't.  He didn't get into the trouble I did.

     As I walked to the cul-de-sac that night the no wave weighed on me.  I figured it was stupid to think he'd want to meet just to break up, but shit, I didn't know a fucking thing about boys then.
 
     Social D. played on my Walkman.  The flipside played the Jerks.  I didn't like the combo on the tape.  That was the only tape I ever made with those two bands playing so close together.  In fact, I only made one or two mix tapes that contained the two at all.  When I hit Buckley Rd., I put some Carmex on and lit a cigarette.

     There were hardly any cars out.  Back then there was so little in the way of civilization out that way.  I crossed Buckley and tried to remember where we were hanging out the other day.  It all looked the fucking same.  Empty streets and empty cul-de-sacs just waiting to be built on.  Then the fear hit.  There's no way we'll find each other.  I got so worked up, I was close to tears, hyperventilating.  My confidence was gone; I untied my flannel and put it on even though it wasn't cold.  I decided to just fuck it and sit close to a street light but not directly under it.  I lay down on the concrete, lit another cigarette, and stared up at the stars.  I kept inching further away from the light to see more stars.  That was something awesome about living in the suburbs before there was much there.  Every night the stars were beautiful and there were no people around to fuck up the view.

     The Social D. side of my tape was over which meant I left home 40-45 minutes before.  I flipped it over knowing the Circle Jerks would only play for 20 minutes.  I never got around to filling the tape.  After the Jerks, I opened the Walkman up to go back to side A, and I saw him walking out of the shadows, blue hoodie, hands in the front pocket, big smile.  I sat up, stood up, and walked to him.

     "What are'ye listenin' to?" he asked as he grabbed my hand and stuffed it in his pocket.  He kissed me.  He'd been drinking.  

     Now, I know it's hard to believe, but I didn't drink in high school.

     He giggled at me, put my head phones on and sat down on the sidewalk in front of no one's house.  I sat down next to him and nuzzled in, like I'd done a few weekends before at the Expatriate show.  We made out, talked about Social D. and if there were any good shows coming up. As I'm getting ready to tell him about the flyers I picked up at Wax Trax, I hear skateboards, then boys’ voices, someone falls, everyone laughs.  At that moment, I knew I was an idiot.  He didn't go there to see me; he went to drink with his friends; it was a bonus to get me there, make out and cop a feel...Frozen, I wondered, hoped he would stay with me.  For a moment, just a split second he sat.

   "Hey guys, where ya been?"  

   "We got tired of waiting on you.  Nick's brother went to get more beer.  You ready to go yet?" one of them asked.  I don't remember their names anymore, maybe I never knew them?

     He actually turned to me, we were standing up, and he asked, "Are you going to be mad if I take off for a bit?"

    For a bit?  Seriously?  What the fuck did that mean? My mind raced, how do I not fuck this up?

     "Ummm...no.  Will you be back?"  I tried to talk quiet so his friends wouldn't hear me.

     "Dude, you need to get permission or some shit?" One of them says, and my face went red.

     "Shut the fuck up," he says to his friend, and to me he says, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes.  I promise."  With that on the table, he got up and went off with his friends.

    "Dude, we saved you a beer." I hear as they skate off and then a can opens.  Laughter. I'm alone and it feels so open and empty out.  Much more empty than when I was waiting for him to show up a half hour ago.

     I thought about just leaving.  I felt empty of the adrenaline and emotions from when he was there.  I started to get tired.  I lit a cigarette.  It seemed likely that he'd be back because he promised. There was too much at fucking stake for me to leave.  If he came back and I wasn't there, he might break up with me.  So I sat, smoking, nervous, pist, scared, bored.  

      About an hour and a half after he left and a half hour after my Walkman batteries died, I heard a car coming.  I could hear Agent Orange playing before they got close to me.  The car pulled up and someone pushed him out.  He couldn't stand himself up.

     "I love you April," he slurred.  He finally got up and hugged me.  He kissed me so, so softly and brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.  All the waiting was worth it.  He loved me.  I heard it; I felt it; I knew it.  Then he turned quick and fucking puked all over the empty street.  He wiped his mouth and smiled.

     "See ya," I swear there was a twinkle in his eye, smile on his lips, and puke hanging from his chin.

     "I love you," I said.  He stumbled back into the car which was in an uproar because of the puke.  The tires squealed, and he was gone.

    Idiot me had on a smile. I was tired but happy.  The entire walk home was filled with me repeating him telling me that he loved me. Ha! He loved me.

   “You’ve got a shitty track record with boys,” I hear Oscar say.

   “Yup,” April says.  “And that one, that one there, he messed me up.  I didn’t let anyone break my heart again after that one.”

   “You need to take a break or quit telling so called love stories.  They make you look dumb,” Oscar adds.

   I poured a shot glass full of whiskey, and I waited for her to get to the bar.  One of these days that boy is going to walk into this bar and all Hell’s going to break loose.

   “You know me so well.  Thanks Glenna.”