Thomas & January (4 page)

Jason smiled widely. “No, but I think I just figured out why you’ve been so effing crazy lately.”

I shook my head denying it before he’d even spoken another word.
              He ignored me. “She’ll be at the party tomorrow, you know that?”
              “I figured she’d be,” I said, trying to sound absent. I avoided eye contact. “She’s good friends with Casey Donigan.”
              “Yeah, she is, but she’s also kind of responsible for the party arrangements. She practically did all the prep for it. She’s a cool chick.”
              “That’s cool,” I said, trying to be that very word, but the curiosity was killing me. “So, uh,” I said taking a swig of beer, “is she still seeing that dude from the mailroom?”
Smooth
.
              “No, actually, she’s
free as a bird
,” he said, borrowing a line from her the night I’d made a fool of myself.
              “Oh, cool.”
              “God, you idiot. Shall I just set a date at the church then because you’re clearly infatuated with her. Just bite the bullet, Tom. Damn, never thought I’d have to say that to you of all people.”
              “Shut it, Jason.”
              “Yeah, yeah,” he said, lifting up his six pack and heading for the window.
              “Finally,” I said under my breath.
              Jason was right. I was clearly infatuated with her, but that was all. We shared an amazing kiss that nearly flayed the skin from my bones from the sheer razor-sharpness of it, but that was it. I was attracted to her but didn’t want to get to know her. Besides, say, for hypothetical sake, I even wanted to get to know her, I was headed to Europe soon. I didn’t have time to get to know her.
              Saturday night was The Belle Jar’s platinum party. That morning, I woke on Charlie’s patio on one of his ridiculous chairs, my back aching like no other. I peeled myself through the window and stood straight in their dining room, stretching my body to rid myself of the kinks.
              “Tom?” I heard from the kitchen.
              “Yeah, Cherry. It’s me.”
              “Where the heck did you come from?” she asked , laughing and rounded the counter.
              “You left me out there all night. Some friend you are,” I teased.
              “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep out there, goofus.”
              “I’m out of here,” I said, yawning.
              “What? Why? Stay for breakfast!”
              “Nuh uh. I’ve got to get ready for this party tonight. You guys are coming, right?”             
              “Now, that was a dumb question,” she teased. “When have any of us denied the chance to dance and party, my friend?”
              “I suppose that was dumb,” I said, straightening a stack of papers on her bar top. “See you,” I said, kissing her cheek and heading out the door.
              My apartment was a few blocks down from Charlie and Cherry’s. I’d lived in Austin for a year, yeah, but the label still paid my rent here, and I had a roommate who didn’t mind getting the apartment all to himself. I’d dropped my bags there earlier when he wasn’t home but could hear him in the kitchen when I walked in.
              “Tom?” I heard from around the foyer hall.
              “Yeah, it’s me.”
              “Good,” my roommate Matt said, meeting me halfway. He gave me a slap hug. “Thought I’d have to bring out the big guns,” he joked.
              “You got a gun?” I asked.
              “No - I...never mind. Come in, asshole. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks. What’s new, man?”
              “Oh, nothing. Got a sweet deal from the label a few days ago. Going to Europe to scout.”
              “Damn,” he said, his cereal-laden spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “That’s cool.”
              “Yup,” I said, heading toward the room I hadn’t seen in a while.

“I had Sal clean in there. That cool?”

“Of course,” I said, before closing the door behind me.

My room was in perfect order and exactly as I’d left it. I brushed my teeth in my attached bathroom, threw on my workout clothes and headed out into the New York streets to run a few miles. Working out in New York was definitely different than working out in Austin. The air was very different and I was finding it hard to adjust. I went five miles before turning around and heading back home, unable to go further. In Austin, I’d run six before turning back. It probably didn’t help that I drank so much the night before. I’d come to be a lightweight. I only drank socially and usually had only one or two beers but that night I’d gone a little overboard.

At home, I showered and tucked a towel around my waist before heading for my suitcases and dragging out a pair of boxers. I unpacked, putting everything up so I could see what I could scrounge up that was decent enough for the party. I was spoiled in Austin. It was such a laid-back city, there was no dress code for things like this.

I couldn’t find anything, then decided I didn’t care. I threw on a pair of jeans and belt, stuck my wallet in my back pocket, making sure the chain didn’t hang weird, then picked a black t-shirt and hoodie and threw my green military jacket over that. I cleaned my boots up a bit and threw those on as well. Since I’d woken so late at Cherry and Charlie’s, and unpacking had taken forever, I’d lost track of time. When I looked at my watch, I was actually fifteen minutes late.

“Shit! Nine-fifteen?” I asked no one.

I rushed out the door, not because I was in a hurry to see what January looked like after all these months or to see what she thought of me. No, I was excited to meet my friends. Yeah, that’s it. I hailed a cab but when the cabbie asked where to, I couldn’t tell him. I’d forgotten to ask Jason. I’d flipped my cell open and rang him.

“Yo!”

“Jason, where’s this party at?”

“The Bowery.”

Seriously? Did she do this on purpose?
             
“The Bowery,” I told the cabbie.
The Bowery was special to me for lots of reasons. I used to perform there all the time with my band, The Ivories, and Callum married Harper there. It was
our
place.
              “See you there,” I told Jason and hung up.
              The cab pulled up in front and I could hear the dull bass from the club beat into the street. My stomach dropped a little and my heart jumped in my throat.
Just go in there and chill out
. I walked up to the doorman.

“Name?” He asked.

“Thomas Eriksson,” I said.

The guy flipped through the list. “Sorry, you’re not on here.” His eyes lit up. “In fact, your name’s under the ‘Do not permit under any circumstance’ list.”
              “Is that a joke? What kind of list is that?”

“Exclusively yours, it seems. Your name is the only one under it.” He smiled smugly.

“You’re screwing with me.”

“No, sir.”

“Get Jason Barrett out here.”

“I’m sorry, but it says right here...”

“I know what it says. Just get Jason Barrett here.”

“I apologize, sir, but we can’t,” the bouncer said, stepping in, enjoying his position of authority a little too much.

“Screw this,” I said, reaching for my cell. I flipped it open and dialed Jason.

“Yo!” I barely heard through the blaring music.

“Jason, come to the door!” I yelled.

“What!” he screamed.

“Come to the
door!
”

He hung up and I just hoped he’d heard me correctly. Five minutes later, Jason walked out and signaled for the bouncer to let me in.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“January,” I seethed.

“Oh, hoo,
hoo,
” Jason laughed. “That is rich.”

“You’re gonna let her get away with that?” I asked, incredulous.

“Hell yeah I am! She burned you and she didn’t even have to be there. That girl, I swear,” he said, shaking his head.

When I finally glimpsed into the ballroom, I couldn't believe my eyes. The music pumped loudly, which wasn’t unusual, but what took my breath away was the swathes of billowy cloth that hung from the ceiling over our heads, giving the entire room an ethereal feel. I refused to give her credit for that.
Probably someone else’s idea.
Jason had abandoned me, distracted by an issue at the front again, leaving me to my own devices.

That little punk ass.
I searched the floor for her. I had a few choice words to lay into her. I wanted to be cured of her poisonous claws and burning me like that was one way to do it, thanks to her delightful butt. My eyes scanned the room around me. I almost hoped she was on the dance floor. I imagined myself dragging her off by her hair to the edge.
No, too Neanderthal
. She wasn’t near the bar nor anywhere near the throngs of girls in the line for the restroom. I finally spotted her on stage, leaning over the DJ’s tables.

But spotting her held the opposite effect I wanted it to have on me. In fact, all vexation I previously felt for her dissipated into puddles at my feet.
Damn it!
She
was
as beautiful as I’d remembered. More so, in fact. She was bent over the tables, the hem of her short skirt riding slightly up her muscular thighs. Her long dark brown hair was down and cascaded over her shoulder, shielding her face. I hated how much I liked that she’d worn it that way. She’d curled it into waves and I thought back to how those strands felt sifting through my fingers.

She righted herself and laughed at something the DJ had said, making a slow jealous burn seep into my chest. My breath caught at the sight of her.
Damn it!
She turned and somehow found me at the edge of the dance floor. She narrowed her eyes at me, a cold stare seeping through the people around me hit me like an atom bomb and causing my stare match hers.

She walked with purpose off stage left, making a beeline straight for me. The heated anger emanating off this girl parted the waves of people dancing like the Red Sea. The cleared path in front of her gave me an excellent view of her swaying hips for which, I feel sad and pathetic to have to admit, I immediately imagined pinching between my thumbs and fingers.

“Hello, Mister Eriksson,” January said, overly polite. Any stranger walking by would mistake it for the saccharine it appeared to drip, but I knew it for the acid it really was.

“Miss MacLochlainn.”

She stood comfortably in front of me, her hands laid gently at her sides, one hip cocked. “I see you got in.”

“I did, thank you.”

Her eyes briefly flashed something wild. She was trying to bait me. I wasn’t falling for it and that was obviously pissing her off.
That
made me smile.
              She eyed me strangely for a moment. “Huh. You do have teeth. Lost that bet.” She stood a bit taller at the insult. “Listen, if you need anything and I mean
anything
, don’t hesitate to ask. It’s why I’m here,” she said sarcastically and began to walk off.
Don’t let her have the last word, that would be too mature.
              “Oh, I believe I’ve had about all I could possibly want from you,” I barely said, but it was enough to catch her attention.
              She stopped, straightened, her hair shifted off her shoulders as she whipped back around and came stomping up to me like a five-year-old. I tried to fight the grin that spread across my face but couldn’t.
              “I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asked, a foot from my face. I ignored the way my pulse raced at her proximity.
              “I apologize,” I said, leaning in further. “I’ll speak more clearly then. You couldn’t give me anything you haven’t already. You’re quite the generous hostess, it seems.”

And the facade finally breaks
. “You’ve got a lot of nerve! You know that?”

I fell to the back of my heels, wrapping my arms in front of me.
              “You kissed me back!” she continued. “I was there! I know when someone kisses me back and you
kissed me back
, Thomas Eriksson!”
I avoided eye contact, glancing to my right a bit, and noticed a waitress getting ready to pass with a tray of drinks.
              “Excuse me, miss?” I said, leaning around the statue that was January. The waitress offered me the tray and I took a cold Heineken. “Thank you.”
January’s face and neck burned a bright red. At any moment, I suspected steam would start pouring from her ears.
              I took a swig of beer before answering, still avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t kiss you back.”
              She leaned into me, inches from touching me, making my blood pressure spike to unhealthy levels. “You did. I felt you did,” she whispered. “Trust me, there’s nothing you can do or say or even pretend that could convince me otherwise.”
              “You tell yourself whatever you need to in order to make you believe that, January, if it makes you feel better. Justify slutty behavior however you wish.”
She stumbled back, hit hard by my unfeeling words. I closed my eyes briefly. I immediately regretted hurting this virtual stranger. I felt physically ill at the lie. I didn’t really feel that way, in fact. Truthfully, that girl just brought something out of me I couldn’t control and it scared the shit out of me.
              “You’re an asshole,” she whispered, her eyes glassy. She turned and stalked away toward the stage once more.
              I reached for her but didn’t reach far enough. Every second she walked away I felt too ashamed to apologize to her. I was a coward. I knew it.
Never too late to do the right thing
. I started walking her direction but noticed she’d walked straight up to Casey from The Belle Jar and started sobbing into his shoulder.
Shit! I
am
an asshole!
When Casey saw me coming, he sat January at the edge of the stage with his girlfriend Sunny and came at me like a bull and I was waving a red flag.
              “Can I talk to you, dude?” Casey asked, fury built in his eyes.
              I led him to a nearby table. “Listen,” I began but he interrupted me.
              “No, you listen,” he said, incensed, “I don’t care if you helped my band get to where it is, and I also don’t know what the hell you and January have going on. Frankly, I find it odd because she claims she doesn’t know you, but somehow you can make someone I’ve never seen cry in the three years I’ve known her, cry and trust me, she’s had plenty of reason to. Now why, I ask you, is she over there bawling her eyes out?”
              “There’s no reason, truthfully. I owe her an apology. We...butt heads.”
              “Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
              “No reason. Haven’t you ever met someone you didn’t like?”
Or really liked but didn’t want to?
             
“I have but that person has never been January, for me or anyone else for that matter. What’s wrong with you, Tom? January is literally the best girl I’ve met in my life and I’ve met a lot of girls in this business.” He took a deep breath. “Seriously, January MacLochlainn is a freaking saint.”
              The guilt started weighing hard on my chest then. I was taking my pissed off nature out on a beautiful, innocent, amazing girl for no other reason than I didn’t want to find her beautiful, innocent or amazing. I wanted my hate back. I stood up and squeezed Casey’s shoulder.
              “I’ll apologize to her. I’m sincerely sorry for the shit I just pulled.”
              “Good,” he said, calming down. “God, Tom, I always knew you were a bit of an ass, but I’ve never seen you do something so low.”
              “I know, dude. I’m ashamed. I’ll go apologize right now.”
I walked January’s direction. She saw me coming and stood taller, not wanting me to see I’d affected her. She subtly wiped the tears from underneath her eyes, but it didn’t help, they were still red, sending me down another shame spiral. I could do this. The old Tom could have done this with amazing ease.
              “January,” I said softly.
              “Yes?” she asked coldly.
              “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”
              “No.”
              “Please?” I begged her pathetically.
              She sighed deeply. “I guess,” she said, letting me lead her outside.
              When we reached the sidewalk, I led her a little farther down away from the noise of the club, stopping right underneath a street light. The light bathed her head like a crown.
A saint
, Casey had said. “I’m so sorry,” I said genuinely. “I didn’t mean any of the shit I said.”
              “It’s okay,” she said a bit more warmly than her earlier tone, but she still refused to meet my eyes.
              “No, it’s not,” I said, lifting her chin softly so her eyes would meet mine. “You’re right, I’m an asshole. I’ve been one for  more than a year and I never realized just how bad I’d gotten until I’d met you. You bring out this insane side of me for some reason, and although I’m still trying to decipher what that is exactly, I do want you to know I didn’t mean a single word I said in there.”
              She was quiet for a moment, mulling over my apology. “You admit you kissed me back?” she asked, a small grin tugging at the side of her mouth.
              I hated to admit it, but I knew I couldn’t lie anymore. She’d know. “Yes, January. I kissed you back.”
              “I knew it,” she said, a gleam in her eye. She abruptly turned from me and walked back to the club, abandoning me to the newly discovered harsh light of the street lamp.
              “She played me,” I said under my breath, shaking my head at the ground. I smiled the widest, shit-eating grin. “She played me.”
Probably wrong about that innocent part.