Tracks (Rock Bottom) (7 page)

While I’m looking down at my hand and his chest, he leans closer and I tense, stopping my hand. Slowly, sweetly, he kisses my forehead. I close my eyes and love the feel of his warm, wet lips on my skin.
His scratchy face rubs down my hair to the side of my face, so that we’re almost cheek to cheek. My breathing speeds up. “Dylan,” he whispers. His hand is still on the back of my head.

I know I’m now shaking, and I know it’s noticeable. My mouth is co
mpletely dry. “Yes?” I whisper.

He breathes warm air into my ear. I sigh. “The car stopped…”
he whispers again in his melodic tone.

My eyebrows come together. I open my eyes and look out the window opposite me. I see the sidewalk in front of my townhome il
luminated by the street lights.

I sit up st
raighter as he drops his hand from my hair and lets go of my hand. He turns and opens the car door. He steps out on to the sidewalk and I scoot to the door, stepping out behind him. As soon as I’m on my feet, he grabs my hand again, like it’s so natural now. My heart is heavy. What happens from here?

He pauses on the sidewalk and turns towards me, looking down at our hands entwined. He looks into my eyes. “I’d like to come up.”

            
 
I tense. I wasn’t expecting that. I try to go through scenarios in my head. He waits, even seemingly becoming uncomfortable. “Um,” he starts. “I understand if you don’t want me to…”

“No,” I interrupt. His smile fades a bit. He almost
looks hurt. My eyes widen, panicked about his misunderstanding. “No, I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you to. It’s just, I’m not sure I want to…I’m not sure I’m ready to do anything yet…”

His eyes darken with desire. “I wasn’t necessarily
implying that. I just don’t want this night to end. It’s only 9:00. And I actually have the night off. And I want to spend it with you.”

How could I deny that?
“Ok, come on.” I pull his hand as I start walking up the stairs. We get to the front door and I walk inside. I hear footsteps come running from the hallway. Oh, shit.

Before she can see me, Theresa says, “Dyyyllannn! How was it? Was it amazing? Was…” she trails off as she comes into sight. She freezes and her e
yes widen as she stares at him.

“Theresa!” I say, almost too loud
ly. Lord, please don’t let her embarrass me. “This is Jeremy.” I motion towards him. “Jeremy,” I point to Theresa’s frozen body. “This is my best friend, and
obviously
,” I emphasize, “your biggest fan Theresa.”

“Charmed,” he says, and extends his free hand to her, even though it’s his left. I’m happy he doesn’t want to let go of me. Theresa shakily
holds out her hand to take his.

She seems to snap back to earth
, looking at both of us. “Oh my gosh! I have such an important
thing
to go to!” she almost shrieks. She’s wearing a ratty T-shirt and some gray sweat pants. She runs behind our couch and throws on some of my sandals. “Planning it all day,” she says as she grabs her purse. She walks past us and to the door. “See you guys later!” she says as she opens the door and steps out. “Nice to meet you!” she waves and shuts the door. I hear her flip flops going down the stairs.

Subtle, Theresa.

I turn to Jeremy and give him a shy smile
. “She’s…perky,” he volunteers.

I laugh under my breath and let go of him to put my purse down on the couch. T
he silence lingers. “So,” I say. “This is my home.”

“It’s cute,” he says, looking ar
ound. My stomach rumbles again.

I star
t heading toward the kitchen. “Is pizza okay?” I say, taking dough out of the refrigerator.

“Yeah,” he says and smiles, sitting on the couch. I flick the stove on
to preheat and turn to look at him before I reach down for the tray. I see him looking down at his torn shirt. He shrugs and takes it off.

I fee
l like such a jerk. “Oh, Jeremy, I’m sorry. Do you want me to get you a shirt?”

He puts his shirt over the back of my couch. “No, I don’t mind being shirtless. Usually I perform shirtless.”

I smile, secretly happy my ogling can continue into the night. “But what about getting home?”

“I’ll have Rich bring me something.” He pulls out his phone and writes a
quick text. I continue to cook.

We make conversation as I prepare
and finish the pizza and we start to eat it. Sitting on the couch across from this man, this piece of living art, draped so normally along the cushions seems like a dream. It’s almost easy to forget that he’s the bad boy on T.V., the mega-star, the child prodigy. We talk about normal things; favorite movies and shows, what schools we went to, what friends we had. Jeremy told me about traveling all over the world with his parents, playing the piano for the Queen of England, meeting Princess Diana and various U.S. presidents.

“Your
life,” I say, smiling. “It sounds so amazing. You’re very lucky.”

He looks down at his empty plate and puts it down on the coffee table. “Yea,” he says darkly. I look at the clock. It’s after 1 a.m.
already, my eyes watery and red from sleepiness. I think of Theresa and hope she’s ok. I worry when I don’t hear from her.

I stand
, stretching as I do. He looks up at me and stands as well, his hard, shirtless body in plain sight. I wonder how his warm skin would feel against mine.

“Well,” he sighs. “I better get going.
I have a show tomorrow night…”

I know that it’s best that he leave but I
really don’t want him to go. “Okay,” I say quietly.

“Could I call you
, maybe? Tomorrow?” He sounds unsure. It's very endearing.

"Sure, yeah.
Of course." I try to hide my excitement.

His eyes meet mine, and they are smoldering. He slinks closer to me, prowling. I tense.
If he comes on to me now, I don’t know that I would deny him. "I am so happy you came to meet me, whether or not it was forced."

I squeak out a breathy laugh. I muster up some courage and walk over to him and into his arms, wrapping my arms around his bare chest as he wraps his arms around me. We hug for a moment
before I realize he's shaking.

"Oh, are you cold?" I say, instinctively running my hand up and down his bare back.
Weird, because it's about mid-August and around 70 degrees, even at night. "Let me get you a shirt."

"Oh," he lets go of me instantly. "No, no, I'm alright. I'll call you tomorrow," he says and heads for the door. He opens the door and stops at the top of the stairs. "Night," he says and smiles, but I
think he doesn't look too well.

"Night," I say as he turns and walks down the stairs, getting into the back of his elegant
black car. The car pulls away.

I stand there for
another minute after I watch the car fade into the distance. I am a mix of emotions: confused about the shaking, worried about his sickness, sad to see him go, and excited about the thought of him calling tomorrow. I feel very unsatisfied at how the night ended. I am also unbelievably tired. I turn and go back inside, shutting the door.

I take off my green and blue wrap shirt as I walk towards my bedroom. Before I take off my j
eans, I send a text to Theresa.

Dylan: Theresa, where are you? It's almost 2 am.

I throw on some shorts and a tank. I head to the bathroom and wash the make-up off my face with the lights off. I throw my long hair up in a ponytail and leave the bathroom as my phone blings.

Theresa: It's cool! Crashing at Miranda's pad. Have FUN!!!

I roll my eyes. Miranda is a friend Theresa knows from childhood who moved out here a few years ago. I'll explain everything to her tomorrow. I'm too tired to have the 'I'm not into being a slut' conversation.

I crawl into bed a
nd fall into a dreamless sleep, finally too exhausted to dream- even about Jeremy. But at least it keeps the nightmares away, too.

I wake up the next morning to my bed shaking. I fly up in bed, alarmed.

Theresa is at the end of my bed
.

"Shit Terri!" I say, holding my
chest. She looks disappointed.

"Did he leave already?
" she moans.

I roll my eyes at her. "He left
last night
."

“Ewe, he just left after the action? That’s kind of
jerky.”

What does she tak
e me for? “No action, Theresa.”

She scoffs. "You had him he
re ALONE and you did NOTHING??"

"Nope!"
I say, proudly. "Not even a kiss."

She moans loudly and stands up from the bed. "Why is it YOU and not ME?? I bet he's FABULOUS in bed. The way he walks, his sexy voice..." I feel a tingling in
my groin as she describes him.

"
Allll right, Theresa. Let me get dressed. I'll tell you all about it when I get out," I say, climbing out of bed.

I quickly shower and get dressed. I put on a nice blue, short sleeve, silk blouse that has three buttons going down from the collar and light blue jeans. I can tell I haven't gotten enough sleep. It's only
 9am and I went to bed after 2. I'm a solid 8 hour sleeper, so I rarely feel rested since I haven’t gotten 8 hours in a long time. I silently praise God for Theresa when I walk out of the bathroom and smell coffee.

I walk into the kitchen and immediately start pouring myself a cup. Theresa is sitting at the kitchen table, reading a magazine. "I put that on when I walked in the door," she says, flipping a page and not looking up. "I thought you would like some coffee because I thought you two
would have been up all night."

"Silly you," I said, taking a sip and pulling a chair out from the table op
posite Theresa.

"So," she said, shutting the magazine and looking up at me. "What DID happen?"

We spent the next hour talking about the previous night. Theresa did me an unasked favor by analyzing his every statement and movement he made. It was nice to talk to someone about it, I guess.

At one point we're laughing, and I happen to glance down at the m
agazine she was reading. There's a dark picture of Jeremy on the front with a familiar looking girl with her hands raised to the camera, blocking her face.

I stop laughing immediately and pick it up from off the table. "Theresa, whe
re did you get this magazine??"

She looks confused.
"From a little convenience store down the street where I stopped to get the bag of coffee. It's one of Boston's free daily gossip things I guess. Why?"

I'm flipping widely though the magazine. I find the
article that says, "Jeremy Mason’s New Mystery Blonde." There are pictures of him and me leaving the record store. There are also pictures of him leaving my house without a shirt very early in the morning. In the article, they suggest that we are having a passionate and sexy love affair, and they even identify me by name, and say I'm off to Harvard Law in the fall!

I look horrified.
"What??!!" Theresa stands up from the table in alarm.

"Didn'
t you see the fucking cover?!" I spit, looking up at her angrily. She's instantly taken aback. I almost never use the F-word out loud.

"I know Jeremy's on it, but he's almost alwa
ys on the cover of everything."

I push the cover at her. "D
oes she look familiar?"

Theresa squints at the cover. Her face relaxes and s
he laughs. "Haha, oh shit! You're famous girl." She puts the magazine back down. "No one can tell that's you."

"Yeah," I say exasperated, standing up and walking away from the table, pacing. "Except that they identify me by name in the article and specifically mention I'm atte
nding Harvard Law in the fall."

"Oh
my gosh! Everyone will want to know you!" Theresa says excitedly.

Oh God. Everyone will know me. Stare at me. Ask me qu
estions…

I huff. "I do not want to be known as the party girl slut who sleeps with
‘rock stars’ at Harvard. I want to be taken seriously. How did they even get that in the paper so fast? He just left last night. Err, early this morning."

Theresa walks over to me and places her hands on my arms to stop my pacing. "It's ok. Breathe. It's in a local paper that probably no one even reads. This will b
low over before school starts."

I look into her comforting brown eyes. I sigh and the burning quells. "You're right. I'm b
lowing this out of proportion."

Theresa picks up the magazine and throws it out in the trash can in the kitchen. I go into my room, reach under my bed and pull out my laptop, and bring it out to the kitchen table.