White Horses

(1984)

(This also isn't finished. Sorry for being lazy, guys.)

 

When the doorbell rang at the front of the house, unease and excitement mixed in her chest, making her heart quicken.

 

Fred looked up from the strings of his beat-up acoustic guitar as Kayla ran past him. "What's the rush, baby?"

 

"You need to stop calling me that. I don't think Tom will appreciate it." she said.

 

He rolled his eyes and went back to strumming a tune. In an almost perfect British accent, he sang, "I know I've dreamed you, a sin and a lie. I have my freedom, but I don't have much time. Faith has been broken, tears must be cried. Let's do some living, after we die."

When Kayla reached the foyer, she stopped, check her too-tight Guns N Roses T-shirt to be sure she wasn't revealing too much skin, and then pulled open the door.

"Hey," she said, seeing Tom standing on the porch.

"How's it going?" He shot her a gorgeous grin.

"It's going good. Come in." She opened the door and he sauntered inside, his boots thudding heavily against the wood floor.

Fred stopped strumming inconspicuously, watching Tom as he walked into the room, his hands tucked warmly inside the pockets of his coat.

 

He laughed internally. What the hell does Kayla see in this pretty boy, he thought. Fred looked over Tom's ridiculous outfit with a smug grin. The sleeves of his floor-length coat were fringed. It reminded Fred of something he once saw in an old western movie. His black button-up shirt remained unbuttoned, exposing a pale and lanky torso. Tom's jeans were way too tight-fitting and a pair of ivory snake skin boots were pulled over his ankles.

 

Kayla came back into the room, rubbing her hands together. "It's cold out there, isn't it?"

 

"It's not too bad. I'm just glad I got the heat fixed in my car." Tom said over a shoulder as Kayla made her way to the couch.

 

Fred would bet money that he took his car to the local repair shop. Tom really didn't seem capable of fixing a car. God forbid he get a little grease on his fancy boots.

 

"You can have a seat, Tom." Kayla plopped down beside Fred and grabbed a throw pillow from behind him. She hugged it against her chest, squeezing the poor thing until she was comfortable. "You know Fred. He won't bite."

 

Tom nodded his head. "I do. Hey, Freddie."

 

"Only girls call me Freddie."

 

Tom looked over to Kayla, then back to Fred. "Oh," he breathed. "I'm sorry. Just Fred, then."

 

"Thanks," Fred twisted his pick between the greasy strings of his guitar and set it against the coffee table. "You two want to be alone, right?"

 

Kayla laughed nervously and said, "We're just gonna watch a few movies. You can stay if you want."

 

He thought about it for a brief moment, but decided against it when he saw the desperate look on Tom's face. Fred was sure that Kayla wouldn't have known what he was thinking, even if she looked over at him that very second. It was a guy thing. Fred just knew. If Tom didn't get anything more than an innocent good night kiss on the first date, he was damn sure to try for second base tonight.

 

Fred sighed and picked up his guitar. "Don't worry about me. I'm just going to go upstairs. Try not to make too much noise, either. I'll be in bed early."

 

Kayla shot him a glare as he stood from the couch and waved at Tom.

 

"I'll see you another time, pretty boy."

 

"Good night, Freddie." Tom said with a shit-eating grin.

 

Fred ignored him and disappeared up the stairs.

 

When Kayla heard the door slam, she turned to Tom and smiled. "Can I get you anything? There's cold beer in the fridge. Ren picked some up earlier."

 

He nodded his head and started toward the couch. "Sure, I'll take one."

 

Kayla pulled herself up and made her way into the kitchen. Walking past the island, she rolled her eyes at a bowl of warm milk and plastic Poptart wrapper. Although she was a bit disgusted, a smile crept across her face and she found herself thinking more of Fred. Where would she be without him? Oh, that's right, she thought. She'd probably be living under a bridge in Downtown Philly.

 

A flicker of the lights brought Kayla out of her reverie.

 

"Sorry," Tom called. "I hit the wrong light. Why the fuck is the kitchen light switch in the living room anyway?"

 

She laughed to herself and grabbed two beers from the fridge before strutting out to meet Tom on the couch. She handed one over and said, "We don't know. This is an old house."

 

He pulled the hem of his shirt up in one hand to get a tight and comfortable grip on the bottle's cap. Kayla could see a sliver of his stomach, a line of dark hair trailing into his jeans. There was a pop and Tom brought the bottle to his lips.

 

"Your friend," he said with a lick of his lips. "Doesn't like me very much, does he?"

 

Kayla turned her head to stare down at the bottle in her hands. "I think he does. He's probably just trying to give you a hard time. Fred can be like that sometimes. I don't know why he does it. To be an asshole, I guess."



The Shining

(1987)

(This isn't finished.)

 

Outside the sun was beginning to rise, casting pinks and oranges across the darkened sky. Tom opened the sliding glass door and walked onto the balcony, the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath his boots. As he peered over the rail at the city, an icy wind whipped hair across his tired face. He pulled a strand of ink black hair behind his right ear with quick fingers.

 

"Getting an early start?" Eric asked as he squared his body in the doorway.

 

Tom shook his head. "Hardly,"

 

"Haven't slept?"

 

He turned away from the view of the city and plopped down in plastic chair. "Not a wink. Hey, do you have a cigarette on you?" He threw his legs over the rail of the balcony and leaned back in his chair.

 

"Don't even think about taking up that habit again, Tom. You're not fooling anybody. What do you think Kayla would say if you came home with a cigarette between your fingers?"

 

Tom threw back is head and closed his eyes against the morning sun. The little drummer boy in his head beat louder with every word that exploded out of his friend's mouth. The headache was unbearable.

 

"Do you have any Excedrin, then?"

 

Eric checked the pockets of his coat, but pulled them out empty with a fake expression of sympathy painted on his face. "Sorry, man."

 

"It's alright," Tom breathed. "I'm sure Jeff has something. I'll have him bring a few pills with him to breakfast."

 

There was a moment of silence before Eric could ask, "Are you okay?"

 

Another gust of wind whipped past Tom's face. It whistled in his ear and send a throbbing pain toward the back of his head. He shoved his hair back with shaky hands and turned his face away from the wind's current.

 

"I don't think you're feeling too well, Tom Tom. Maybe you should eat breakfast in your room."

 

"I'm feeling fine. I just have a nasty headache. It could happen to anyone."

 

"I don't want you to start chewing on pills. That's what drove Jack Nicholson insane."

 

Tom chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly against his chest. Oh please, Eric, he thought. I smoke a few packs in high school and you think I'm going to amount to a murder spree.

 

"That's only a movie, Eric. That can't even happen."

Here I Go Again

 

(1987)

 (This isn't the best story, but it's a little something I wrote in class.)

 

There wasn't a day in the past four months that Kayla didn't think about the tour. It just started to seem as if things were getting back to normal. Instead of Tom and Fred fighting over the seat beside her on the bus, they argued over which national football team would make it to the Super Bowl.

 

At the start of the band's time off, Tom and Fred could hardly handle being in the same room. Now, after four months, they're shopping and watching sports together.

 

Kayla liked it better this way.

 

It was only a matter of weeks before the boys sunk back into their selfish differences on the road.

 

She tried to shake the thought from her mind as she topped a stack of whip cream-covered pancakes with rainbow sprinkles. This would be the last breakfast Tom would eat at home for eighteen months. After today he'll be ordering too-crispy bacon from The Marriott's kitchen.

She brought the plate to the table and set it in front of Tom's favored chair. Puck was beneath the table, whimpering.

"Shh, baby. This food is for Daddy."

Tom sauntered into the kitchen with a tired smile and kissed Kayla's cheek. He was fully dressed and ready to board the bus, which he knew would be coming for him within the next hour. He didn't know if he was excited to leave and get back to work or if he was dreading eighteen months on the road with Freddie boy and grumpy ol' Eric. He was too tired to think about it.

"Good morning, Tommy." Kayla said, wrapping her arms around her man, not wanting to let go. He smelled like after shave and hairspray, something she wouldn't smell for a year and a half.

"Good morning."

"I made breakfast." She motioned a hand to the plate of pancakes.

"Just for me?"

"I'm feeling a little sick. I probably shouldn't eat anything this early. Who knows what it could do to my stomach."

Tom gave her a puzzled look and she waved her hand. "Don't worry. I bet it's because you're leaving. I'll feel better. It's butterflies, I guess."


The Cat's Meow

(1984)

So there she was, sitting in the passenger seat of Tom’s crappy car. She could feel his eyes on her as she stared out the side window at the lights of passing cars and buildings.

He hadn’t said a word since they started on their way to Corpus Drive-in and she began to wonder if he was nervous.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his hand already reaching for the knob on the dash.

“No, I’m fine,” she didn’t take her eyes away from the window and what was beyond it.

Tom, frustrated, shook his head and stopped at a red light. He turned to her, his face pale. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m a little nervous, is all.”

Kayla looked at him for the first time since pulling out of the driveway. She looked to his hands, tapping rhythmically against the leather wheel.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m a little nervous, too.” she said with a smile.

He smiled back, a clear sign of a smoothed and clear conscious, and the light turned green.

***

Pulling into the lot of Corpus Drive-in, Kayla unbuckled her safety belt and pulled down her leather mini skirt.

She wasn’t planning on wearing something so flashy on the first date, but Ren had insisted. She claimed that Kayla had the legs of a goddess and shouldn’t be hidden beneath unflattering jeans. Right now, jeans didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

How was she going to sit in this damn seat for two hours? There are only two ways (that she knows of) to sit in a skirt and neither are comfortable.

She crossed her ankles and leaned back in her seat, cursing Ren and her dumb ideas.

“Shit,” Tom breathed, throwing back his head. “I should’ve asked if you wanted anything to eat when we passed the concessions.”

Kayla looked up at the large screen in front of them and realized the movie had started. “Don’t worry about it, Tom. I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” he said.

“I’m positive.” She flashed another gorgeous smile his way and settled in her seat.

“What movie did you say this was?” she added.

“Return of the Killer Tomatoes,”

Kayla laughed. “Oh God, are you for real?”

He nodded.

Kayla realized now that there was nothing separating them from each other. The car was an automatic, but didn’t have a center console.

She looked up, saw Tom looking down at her, and made a move to slide closer to him.

When their shoulders met, Kayla pulled a strand of blonde hair behind her right ear. “So,” she began, bringing her left leg over the other. “Do you like horror movies?” She nodded toward the screen.

“I like most horror movies,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know if I’ll like this one though.”

Kayla flexed her foot and her bordello moved slowly against Tom’s pant leg.

Subtle touches are good for now, she thought. With Tom being nervous, she didn’t quite know how far she could go without making him uncomfortable.

Friendly touches are okay for now.

She thought it was cute, actually, how a movie date made him so nervous. It was cute until she thought about why it’d make him nervous. Maybe he hadn’t been out with a girl. She laughed internally. No way, she thought. He was too good looking to not have any girl he wanted on their knees before him, begging for--

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Huh?” Kayla jerked out of her reverie and turned to him, his brow furrowed and head cocked to the side in an interesting expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she swatted the air like it wasn’t a big deal. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, you can ask me anything.”

“Why are you so nervous?” She looked at him now. She really looked at him. His dark overgrown bangs casted a shadow over his icy blue eyes. His face, now that she looked at it, was gorgeous. His facial structure was very defined, so sharp and unique. His cheeks had a natural rose tint that made it appear almost as if he was wearing a hint of blush. He was wearing chapstick, that’s for sure. There was a subtle shimmer along his pouty pink lips. His lips were enticing; she was drawn to them.

His deep, raspy voice grabbed Kayla’s attention. “I haven’t been on a first date in two years.” was all he said.

Kayla’s face fell and she let out an “Aww,” She moved closer, cuddling into his arm. “I’m sorry. You must have really loved her if you haven’t been on a date since the breakup. When was it? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

He looked away, shyly. “Three months,”

She flexed her foot again and brought Tom’s arm over her shoulder. “Well you’re not doing as bad of a job as you think.”

He smelled like musky cologne and lavender fabric softener. A relaxing smell, she thought.

Relax. The word echoed in her mind.

Tom’s hand gently squeezed her shoulder before moving up to her neck. His fingers brushed against her cool skin for what felt like eternity. She thought of his warm touch as he fingered the curls in her hair. She shivered, wanting to feel his hands elsewhere but knowing she shouldn’t.

This was better, she thought. She felt that he was much more comfortable than he had been at the start of the date.

***

“Thanks for everything,”

Tom shrugged, propping his arm over the back of her seat. “Yeah, it was no problem,”

“I had fun.” Kayla reached for the door handle, but Tom put his hand on her arm.

“Wait,”

She stopped and turned.

He shifted, setting both hands on his lap. “Would you like to do this again?”

She smiled and lifted Tom’s chin to face her. “Of course,”

He smiled back, but the moment of relief was interrupted. The front door of the house opened and Ren stuck out her head. “What the hell are you doing out there?”

Kayla grunted, shaking her head. “I guess that’s my cue.” she said, pulling open the door.

Tom, again, grabbed her arm and pulled her back. This time, their lips had touched and Kayla couldn’t pull her attention away from Tom as he ran his fingers through her hair and around the back of her neck, keeping her close.

She ran her tongue over his lips and brought her hand to his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt and the heavy beat of his heart.

He pulled away and smiled with a sense of accomplishment, as if he was waiting for the kiss all night.

“You have to go now, don’t you?” he said.

“I’m sorry. Call me, okay?” She pushed open the door and stepped out onto the wet grass.