Back To You (22 page)

The night before I was to go home, Leah asked me to go out with her and some friends, of course.  Dad, Sharon, Bryan and I all had gone out the night before so I could save the last night for friends.  We weren’t planning on doing much, just hanging out.  Leah sent Mike down to my house to pick me up.  You can imagine Dad’s face when he saw him.  And of course
he had on his FUCK t-shirt.  It was a good thing that I warned them about Mike.  He was nice and polite too, which helped.  I hurried us out the door because it looked like Dad was starting to have second thoughts about letting me go. 

Everyone met at Leah’s house and then we all piled into Ryan’s truck.  It was a small truck with a camper top in the bed.  Several of us were in the back, bouncing around with every bump and turn.  Thank God there were blankets to sit on!

I wasn’t expecting to be picking up anyone else, but we pulled up to a nice house a few minutes later.  Ryan honked twice and out came Dillon.  I didn’t have time to get nervous.  He and I had talked a little here and there, but most of the time when we were in the same place, we were on opposite sides of the room.  When he hopped in the back with us, there was no choice but to sit next to each other, sometimes grabbing or bumping each other as we trekked our way to Ryan’s house.  That gave me the opportunity to smell him up close and personal.  Damn he smelled good.

As we were trying to scramble out of the back of the truck, Dillon held his hand out to me to help me out.  And he smiled.  He was always smiling.  And he had beautiful teeth.  His hair was frosted and teased up and out, as was the style.  But most of all I liked that he smiled a lot.  He had to have known that he was gorgeous, but he was nice too.  That didn’t happen often.

When he smiled, of course I smiled back.

“Fun ride, huh?”  He laughed.

“Uh, yeah.  Better than a limo ride.”  I said sarcastically.  “But, hey, I guess limo rides come later in life, right?”

“For some of us, yes.”  I knew he had dreams and aspir
ations of being in the music field.  Who in Cali didn’t dream of being rich and famous?

“Well, maybe one day I will get the pleasure of riding in a limo. Preferably one with the Jacuzzi in the trunk.”  I was thinking about the one in a Motley Crue video.

Dillon rolled his eyes and chuckled, “That would be nice. Huh?”

Conversation just flowed between us.  We laughed a lot.  Other people would pop in and out of the conversation.  And we would stop when the guys decided to jam out a little.  But for the most part, I spent the evening chatting with Dillon.  I didn’t mind at all.

When we had all decided that food was certainly a necessity, we piled back into the truck.  This time Dillon and I were sitting against the cab of the truck facing the back window.  Since it was still a little warm out, the hatch was up on the camper, so we got a little bit of the night breeze.  One of the things I remember the most is the smell of the gardenias mingling with the “old truck” smell and Dillon’s cologne.

Being a teenager has its perks for sure.  One of the perks is being able to eat junk food without feeling guilty.  We b
ypassed Del Taco this time and headed to Weinerschnitzel.  I am not sure that there is anything on their menu that is made for human consumption, but it tasted good!  Bags of dogs and fries were passed around the truck as we all slurped our Cokes.  There wasn’t a thing in the world to complain about, except maybe the hard and unforgiving truck bed on my butt.

The food was gone by the time we got to our next dest
ination, the park.  It was pretty much your basic city park.  Slides, swings, benches to sit on, grass to lay a blanket on and plenty of stars in the sky.

Dillon and I found our way to the swings.

“You know,” he started after he had lost his bet on who could swing the highest.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad I got to talk to you tonight.  I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better.”

“Really?”  I was surprised, to say the least.

“Really.  Everyone is always surrounding you to talk to you.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah huh.”  He laughed.  He was quiet a moment.  “Suzy, you are really cool.”

“Thanks.  You are too.”

“I was afraid to talk to you at first.”

“Good Lord, why?”  I looked at him like he was nuts.

“Because you are so pretty.  And nice.  And funny.”

“You must be smoking something,” I said back.  “I am nowhere near as pretty as most of these California girls.  Funny?  Goofy maybe...I guess I will give you the nice part.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“About what?”

“That when you walk into a room, people notice.  It is like a light comes on.  People WANT to be close to you.”

“Dillon, I am just me.  I am shy and a complete goofball.  Just a little ole southern girl from a small town.  And I talk too much when I am nervous...”

“Stop.  You are smart.  And yes, you are completely different which is what makes you so interesting.  I just really like listening to things you think about.  You are like a breath of fresh air, and you make me think a lot about stuff that no one ever brings up.  I’m just sorry that we didn’t have more time to hang out.”

I was stunned.  I mean, I know I think way beyond my years.  Most of the time that is a turn off to people.  I dreamed big dreams, I thought big thoughts, but I figured most of the time people thought I was just babbling.  In the past people had looked at me funny when I brought up deep subjects, kind of like I was totally weird or som
ething.  To me, it was just something that made me stand out from the crowd, most often that wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t know what to say.  Thank you?”  Now I felt stupid.  Out of words.  That funny feeling in my stomach was flu
ttering around.  “I was scared to death to talk to you when I met you.”

He smiled, “I get that a lot.”

“You are actually a lot nicer than I thought you would be.  Sorry if that sounds bad.”

“Thanks.  I’m just a normal guy.  With nice teeth.”  He smiled really big.  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Indeed.”  I said when I stopped giggling for a second.

“Suzy?”

“Hmmm?”

“Would you be offended if I kissed you?”

Offended?  How on earth could I say that I would probably melt into puddles if he kissed me?  What to say? 

“I, uh, hmm...”  Our eyes locked and I said dreamily, “It would be my pleasure.”

Why is it that when someone kisses me, I feel like fainting, floating and throwing up all at the same time?  Nerves?  Excess hormonal discharge?  His kiss was tender and sweet.  So very sweet.  I can’t imagine a better way to end the evening.  Except for one.  As I was getting out of the truck back at my house later that night, he handed me a folded piece of paper and told me to wait to read it until after he was gone.  One more small kiss and he was out of my life forever.  Except in my memories of course.  I just knew that I would never see him again after that summer, but for just one moment in my life, he made me feel different.  Better.  Appreciated.  After the devastation of losing Jack, I wasn’t sure I would ever recover.  Ever want to hold my head up again.  But that night, something happened that made me feel like squaring my shoulders and being proud of my differences instead of being scared or ashamed of them.

His note?  Well, it was a short note.  I am not sure when he had the time to write it that night, but basically it thanked me for b
eing me.  Can you imagine that?  He said I was something truly special and that even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I should never forget that I had the power to touch people in ways most people couldn’t even imagine.  And he had written out a poem for me.  Maybe it was lyrics, I have no idea.

I would say that was a good note to end a vacation on.

C
hapter 18

Senior year.  Finally.  It was a busy week.  Before classes started, we had to go to the school for our senior pictures.  The next day we went to our classes, set up our lockers, caught up with friends and teased the lowly freshmen.  After school, Megan and I hung out for a while and planned our weekend.  Typical teenage stuff.

While getting ready for the first day of school
, I saw someone a little different in the mirror.  My hair had gotten really long which made it easier to tame.  My skin was clear so I didn’t bother with heavy foundation.  Usually it was just too hot and that crap caused acne, so I wore powder and blush, eye makeup and lip gloss.  I wanted to start out the school year feeling good about myself.  I was a senior after all.

A
couple weeks into the school year, we got word about Cheap Trick coming to town.  Just like Rick said.  Tickets sold out pretty quick.  I didn’t pass up opportunities to go to a concert if I could help it.  I called Rick and got my hookup.  Free tickets and backstage access to meet the opening band, Shredders!

I was trying to figure out what to wear t
o the concert.  The hard part was that I wanted to look sexy, but not like a slut.  I chose a tight white mid-driff shirt with a ripped up Mickey Mouse t-shirt over it with black leggings.  And high heeled ankle boots.  My hair was teased and my makeup was rock concert appropriate.  I thanked God that my skin was clear.  Randy was picking me up.  I gave him the extra ticket since Megan couldn’t go.

C
oncerts were loud and obnoxious.  Hair bands are the greatest ones to go to because they do all kinds of fun stuff on stage with pyrotechnics and props.  As we waited for Shredders to get tuned and started, I noticed that the two girls that I had seen at every single concert were there, wearing the same neon colored “rubber suit” mini dresses.  They should have just had GROUPIE tattooed on their tanned shoulders.  I would never put on a dress like that and go out in public.

I
wasn’t surprised to see Jack there.  He went to more concerts than I did.  I didn’t think he liked Cheap Trick.  Maybe he was there to see Shredders.  It still felt like a punch in the gut when I saw him.  There was a part of me that was still angry with him and didn’t want to talk to him, and another part of me that wanted to hold on too long.

I had
broken up with Bryant right before we went back to school.  I couldn’t keep holding on to a relationship going nowhere fast.  I wanted to leave my options open for new guys in my life.  So far, I hadn’t had a lot of luck in that department, but I stayed optimistic.  I mean, Dillon thought I was pretty special.  Surely someone else would too, right?

Shredders had the
dirty raw sounds of an edgy heavy metal group.  The concert was loud.  It was raunchy.  It was fun.  I wasn’t completely familiar with their music yet, so I couldn’t sing along much, but I was right there with my fist in the air, banging my head and throwing my hair around with the best of them.

When their set was over,
Randy and I were escorted over to the entrance backstage.  On the way we passed Jack, who looked at me with a question in his eyes.

“Going backstage to meet the band.”  I said as
we passed.

“Cool.”  Was all he said.  I felt his eyes on my back until I disappeared behind the curtain.

*****

Jack never understood why girls dressed up
to go to concerts.  Not that he didn’t appreciate a few of them, even those chicks who were at every concert wearing the same damn neon dresses.  He would be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way the dress zipped down past their bulging cleavage.  And how the skirt rode up to mid thigh, showing off their nice assets in the rear.  Eye candy for sure.

Randy had told him that he was giving Suzy a ride to the concert, so he figured they would see each other at some point.  He wasn’t expecting to be blown away by the way she looked.  Jack a
lways thought that Suzy had interesting style.  Just a little beyond the norm.  Like most of the time, she wore conservative clothes with just a little something different that gave Suzy her own look.  Most girls dressed pretty wild to go to concerts, especially if they are hot.  But Suzy?  She was wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt.  The sleeves had been cut off and the bottom cut to show a little of her belly.  She had on a tight fitting short white shirt underneath the t-shirt that showed no cleavage at all.  Suzy had on black leggings that accentuated her muscular thighs and calves and her hips that flared from her tiny waist line.  The black leggings covered her to her boots, but they sure looked great.  Basically she was covered from her neck to her toes and was probably one of the sexiest girls there.  Her shirt was quirky, her hair was long, her eyes were sultry, and her hips, oh her hips.  But he wasn’t allowed to look anymore.  He walked away from all of that almost a year ago.

He didn’t bring anyone with him to the concert.  With the exception of a
couple of friends like Randy, he liked to go to concerts alone.  He didn’t want to deal with a needy girlfriend who complained about head banging or that he wasn’t paying attention to her.  He was there for the music.  But he was always glad to see a friend in the crowd.  Darrin had caught up to him right after Shredders cleared the stage.  They were chatting about the set when he saw a huge Security guy escorting Suzy and Randy through the crowd.  He hoped they weren’t in trouble, but then he realized they were going backstage.  How did she manage that?  Jack had always wanted to go backstage to meet bands, but since he was a guy, his odds were slim.  She smiled at him as she passed, telling him that they were going backstage.  Jack was sure his jaw dropped.  He watched her as they went through the curtain.

“Would you look at that ass?”  Darrin said when she was out of earshot.

“Hmpf.”

“Hey, dude, Suzy has changed a lot in the last couple of years.  Is she dating anyone now?”

“Don’t know.  Don’t think so.”

“Well, maybe I should ask her out sometime.  You mind?”

Jack did mind.  He shouldn’t, but he did.  “Darrin, she is not your type.  She doesn’t just put out like half the girls you date.  And she beats your IQ by at least a hundred points.”

“Hey now, don’t be mean.” Darrin laughed and punched him in the arm.  “She probably wouldn’t say yes anyway.”

“She might.  You could ask.”  It almost hurt Jack to say those words.  “But she is way out of your league man.”

“Then maybe I should hit up some of THAT!”  Darrin was pointing in the direction of a scantily dressed groupie.

“Yeah, that’s more your type.”  Jack mumbled.  And he wondered what Suzy was doing backstage. 

*****

I was a little nervous when a huge guy brought us backstage to a room that had a few other people in it.  Of course the Neon Twins were there.  They probably had VIP passes to any concert as long as they wore those hideous dresses.  A few people from the local paper and the Baton Rouge paper were in there too.  A couple other girls pretty much rounded out the group as we waited for the band to enter.  I guess we were there about twenty minutes before they emerged, freshly showered.  I wasn’t too sure who to meet first.  Should I go up to them?  Do I wait for them to come to me?  I was definitely not familiar with this stuff.

On stage they wore makeup and had wild hair and had on a lot of leather.  Backstage, their hair was wet and they were in jeans and t-shirts.  Just like normal people.  That was a little more comforting.  The drummer came up to me first.  We cha
tted, took pictures and he called the bass player over.  He was pretty cool.  You could tell he loved the rocker lifestyle.  He was tall and very good looking.  He smiled at me, spoke for a few minutes and then was consumed by the Neon Twins.  I didn’t mind.

The guitarist came over to me, and we talked about how we both knew Rick.  He thanked me for coming backstage to meet them and said he was happy to meet me too.  I
realized one of the other chicks in the room was his girlfriend.  He excused himself and said he was tired and headed out with the girl on his arm.

The last member to walk in was Dave, the lead singer.  Of course we had some great pictures of the whole band and
Randy excused himself to go watch Cheap Trick since their set was getting ready to start.  The reporters hung out for a bit and got their photos and interviews.

“Hi there.  Who are you?”  I was startled at the British accent that came from behind me.  I turned and was face to face with Dave.  I didn’t know he was a Brit.  He wasn’t as tall as the other members of the band, but he wasn’t short either.  He had jet black hair and the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen.  He was a bit skinny, not totally buffed out like the “bowflex” guy, but he was lean, without any fat on him.

I smiled, “Hi!”  Ever the bubbly me.  “I know a friend of your guitarist.  He got me backstage so I could met you guys.”

“Ah.  Ever been backstage before?”

“Nope.  First time.  I guess you could call me a virgin.”

He lifted an eyebrow at that.  “Don’t say that too loud or he will snatch you up.”  He pointed to the bassist who was co
mpletely engulfed in neon rubber by then.

It took a second for it to dawn on me what he meant.  “Oh!  Oh no, I’m not like that.”

“Yeah, I can tell.  Cool shirt.”

“Hm?  Oh thanks.  Might not be very stylish, but it is cool for head banging and getting all sweaty out there.”

“You really into all that?”

“I like it.  It’s fun.  It’s not all I listen to, but I love going to concerts and just letting it all out, you know?”

“That’s the purpose.  It’s all a show.  Lights, makeup, costumes.  It’s a good way to escape for a while.”

“I can see that.”

“What types of music do you like?  Um, I don’t know your name.”

I laughed.  “Sorry that was rude of me.  I’m Suzy.”

“Nice to meet you Suzy.  I’m Dave.”  He stuck his hand out to me like it was a business meeting or casual acquaintance.

“This is really far out.”  Oh my God.  I couldn’t believe I just said that.  “I mean, it is so cool to meet you.”  Ugh.  I suck at social stuff.

“We are just regular guys.  You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh.  Well...” I spouted off a few bands and groups that spanned all kinds of music.  “And my guilty pleasure is Barbra Stre
isand and Broadway musicals.”  I looked down, embarrassed I admitted that to a rock star. 

“Oooo, I love
her music!  Well, not all of it, but I really like...”  He completely rocked my world as he mentioned some of her songs.  We chatted for a few more minutes. 

“Hey,” he stopped like he had an idea, “wanna hear some of my faves?”

“Sure.”

“Do you mind coming to the bus with me?”
Uh.  Moment of truth.  Live dangerously?  Or do my normal Miss Goody Two Shoes act, afraid to take chances?  I could hear Cheap Trick was already a couple of songs into their set.

“Wow, have we been talking all this time?”

He laughed.  “Yes.”  He hesitated.  “Look, I know what kind of reputation rockers have.  I swear, I have never taken anyone to the tour bus before.”

“Yeah, right.  Like I am supposed to believe that.”

“No really,” Mr. Neon Groupie Lover piped up from nuzzling the Pink Neon chick’s breasts.  “He is positively the most boring dude.”

At that moment a million thoughts were racing through my head.  He didn’t seem like a sleezeball.  He actually seemed sincere.  He wasn’t scary looking or leering at my chest or acting drunk.  He just seemed like a regular guy that wanted to show me his music co
llection.

“Okay, sure.”  I know I sounded unsure.  Geez, I was a total prude.  Maybe naïve.  He could be a rapist, I could never return from the tour bus again.  I chided myself for that thought.  Good lord S
uzy!  He wouldn’t still be on the road if he was like that.  He would have been turned in.  What if he made a move?  Well, what if he did, what was I going to do about it?  Let him?  Maybe.  Perhaps I had been celibate too long.  Besides, this could have had the potential of being a good story to tell.  And I already had so many “what ifs” in my thoughts from all the chances I was too scared to take.

He held my hand as we walked out the back and into the parking lot where the tour bus was parked.  Cheap Trick was going hot and heavy.  He opened the door to the bus and escorted me i
nside.  The inside of a tour bus was really cool.  He showed me all of the neat things that were built in.

“Won’t someone else be coming here?”

“Not tonight.  They don’t bring their women to the bus.  It is for us only.  I’m breaking a rule, but since I don’t usually leave with a woman, I don’t think they will mind.”

“Where do they go?”

“Usually the hotel to party it up.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be there?”

“No.  I don’t like to party like they do.  Not my thing.  I usually come back here and enjoy the peace for a while.  Read a book, listen to music.”