Foriveness

(I'm writing this on the spot with no ideas or any motivation. I just think something needs to be uploaded.)


It wasn't every day that Kayla felt like this, but it seemed to be the case more frequently than ever before.

Everyone has those days when they want nothing but to lay in bed and soak in their thoughts.

Well, this will be the third time this week that Kayla has just sat in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, the phone unplugged from its outlet, and the curtains drawn over the windows.

It wasn't all too surprising that Fred hadn't made his way over to the house considering that he hasn't answered Kayla's phone calls for the past two weeks. Kayla took it that he was still mad at her for what happened at The Empire.

Kayla had not seen the look on his face, but Tom had. Later, when Kayla stopped on the sidewalk after running after Fred, but to not avail, for his strides were too long and he refused to turn back as she called his name, Tom said there is no use trying to beg for his forgiveness.

Vampires of the Night

(I know that this is really short. But I'll come back to it eventually.)

Kayla and Tom made their way from his car, parked along a curb in Downtown Philadelphia whose streets were lined with large apartment buildings and alleyways, to a club called Rizzo. Kayla had never heard of it and wondered what kind of crowd hung around the building. They could be a bunch of vampires, Kayla thought, lagging behind Tom as they crossed through a scrubby park.

"Keep up," said an irritable voice in front of her. It was Tom, who had dropped back to walk beside her. "Are you shoes killing your feet or something?"

She looked down at her platform boots. "No," she said in a whisper.

"Last time we walked this far you complained about it the whole way." he pointed out.

She blinked. "I didn't complain. I just asked you to slow down and keep in mind that I was in pain."

Tom flipped his bangs away from his sticky skin. The night was warmer than usual, the grass along the sidewalk burned brown by the summer heat.

They approached a street with bright neon sings above every building. Tom scanned them, the lights glimmering in his dark eyes. "That's it!" he said, pointing to one of the farther buildings. Kayla squinted hard, but there was no way of telling if this was the right place.

"Are you sure you're seeing it right?"

"Absolutely." he murmured.

She looked sideways at him, a little doubtful. "If you say so."

Summer's Dream ( Brought Back From Love's Got Me Doin' Time For July 4th )

Parking was always brutal at city functions, exspecially during Forth of July. Instead of driving the four blocks to the park and scrambling to find a parking spot, the girls walked from their house.

The sun was beginning to set and the day's temps were disappearing with it. Clouds dotted the sky like wispy paint strokes and the moon was barely a silver.

Cheyenne kept up with Kayla, who was practically jogging to the park while Robin hung farther back.

"Who are you meeting here?" Cheyenne asked more out of curiosity than anything.

"Just someone. He said he'd be here tonight."

Cheyenne quirked an eyebrow. "He?"

Kayla pursed her lips and gave Cheyenne an exasperated look. "He's cool. Just a friend."

Two blocks from the park, cars parked the curb along every side street. People walked in groups toward the city center, their hands and arms overloaded with coolers and picnic baskets and folded lawn chairs.

When the girls reached the park, they wound through the lawn chairs and blankets spread out on the grass. Children ran around the playground, screaming and laughing, their parents following closely behind.

The air smelled like barbecue and hot dogs and spent fireworks.

"So where are we going exactly?" Robin asked, catching up to Cheyenne and Kayla.

"I told Fred that I would meet him near the fountain." Kayla said.

Cheyenne gave Kayla a glare.

"Look! There's Fred!" Kayla said, pointing to a tall dark haired man standing beside a taller blond fellow.

"Why are you meeting Fred here? It would have been just as easy to ask Tom."

Kayla shrugged her shoulders. "Tom's gonna be here, too. Just, I didn't want to ask him and make it seem like i was asking him on a date or something.."

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. "But you would be asking tom on a date. Isn't that what you want? I don't see why you have to meet Fred here."

"Kay?" Tom came up behind Kayla, running his fingers over the small of her back.

She turned and gave him a friendly smile. "Hey."

Cheyenne looked at Tom, admiring his beauty.

Tom looked about their age, maybe a year or two older. Along with the shimmery black scarf around his neck, he had on a pair of black cowboy boots pulled over the bottom of his skin-tight leather pants. Silver wing earrings dangled from his ears and a ring was worn around every finger. "You look nice tonight." Tom said, glancing down at her.

Kayla's lip parted as she was about to respond to Tom's compliment when she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

"Kayla, I have something to show you." Fred said to Kayla, then turned to the girls. "Can i steal her? If you girls don't mind?" Fred nodded his head towards Tom.

"Go ahead," Cheyenne said.

The two of sauntered off, Cheyenne and Robin and Tom watching them leave.

 ♥ ♥ ♥

Excitement floated on the air like the fire sparks, but Cheyenne just couldn't catch it. Cheyenne didn't feel like being here, let alone smiling and flirting and pretending everything was okay. She just wanted to be home right now, curled in bed, reading a book with a bowl of popcorn by her side.

And more importantly, she wanted to be alone. it wasn't anything against Eric or her friends. She just needed some Cheyenne time while she tired to sort some things out. Maybe she'd get that time tomorrow, go out somewhere with her sketch book and pencil.

"Need anything?" Eric said, holding her hand tightly as if he were afraid that he'd lose her if he let go.

"Actually"- she plopped down on one of the swings, abandoned by the little kids now that darkness had settled in- "could you see if you can find an elephant ear? i smell them, but i don't see them."

Eric nodded, raked his fingers over her back. "I thought I saw someone selling them by the back entrance. I'll head over there."

"Thanks."

He disappeared into the crowd and Cheyenne clutched the swing, resting her head against one of the chains and closing her eyes. The noise of the park was nearly deafening. Conversation mixed with the sound of fireworks screeching and popping. Kids screaming, parents hollered. A headache blossomed at the base of her skull. She groaned.

Cheyenne felt a presence take a seat on the swing beside her and begin to swing. Not opening her eyes, and figuring Eric had returned with an elephant ear, she said, "You're back already?"

"Back from where?" Tom said, curling his legs beneath the seat of the swing as the wind pushed him back.

"Oh, I thought you were someone else." Cheyenne let out a heavy sigh.

"You okay, Cheyenne?" Tom dragged his boots against the sand, slowing down the swing to a complete stop.

"I just have a headache, is all."

♥ ♥ ♥

Kayla leaned back on her elbows on the blanket Fred had spread out for them. It was fleece, blue at least queen-sized. He'd also packed a cooler of Pepsi and water with some brownies on the side. He was so damn perfect that Kayla could have married him that very second, if she wasn't in love with someone else or if it hadn't been for the whole lack-of-chemistry thing.

"You good?" Fred asked, leaning back on his side.

Kayla nodded. "You did great."

"Really? Because you seem... I don't know... somewhere else."

Kayla finally looked at him. The cotton material of his T-shirt strained against his arm, hugged his toned chest. His shirt crept up just a little bit so that Kayla could see a sliver of his stomach and the waistband of his boxers.

She really was somewhere else mentally, but could have kicked herself for it.

She wanted to be there, focused on nothing but Fred. But all she could think about was Tom.

Why did Tom say she looked good tonight? She obviously hadn't put much effort in getting dressed for this occasion. Her Aerosmith T-shirt had wide holes in the bottom hem, strings hanging lose from the tears in her jeans.

Someone tall and dark-haired swung slowly on a swing just twenty feet from where Kayla sat. A red burst of fireworks lit his face, and Kayla's stomach tingled.

Tom.

Next to Kayla, Fred sighed. She tore her eyes away form Tom.

"What?" she said.

Fred sat up. "You are somewhere else, aren't you?" He nodded in Tom's direction.

"Oh.." It was a good thing darkness had begun to set in. Kayla's face felt hot as embers. "Tom... he's just a friend."

"Kayla." Fred turned to her, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know that look. The way you look at him."

She started to shake her head but instead looked at the blanket, ran her fingers over the soft material. It would be so easy to stay here, to stay with Fred and force herself to like him because she knew that Tom would never like her back.

That would be the easy route, she thought.

But she didn't want to.

What she wanted to do was get up and run over to Tom and then... Well, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do. What could she do?

"I came here with you," she said to Fred. "and i like hanging out with you."

As a friend, she thought.

More fireworks boomed in the sky, lighting Fred's face now that the darkness was thicker. He grabbed her, pulling her closer. Her heart panicked in her chest. Was he trying to kiss her now? After she just implied that she wanted to just be friends?

"There's this poem.." he said, "love is the wild that runs through the forest." His eyes focused on Kayla's face. "You see the wild, Kayla, you run after it. Don't let it get away." He pulled back, looking Kayla straight on.

A purple firework blossomed in the darkness. Kayla looked up, seeing Tom off in the distance. He leaned against the swing chain, watching the fireworks half heartedly.

Fred caught her staring then. He straightened, lifted a few fingers in an almost imperceptible wave.

"He's my friend..." Kayla heard herself say. "I couldn't tell him how I feel. If he doesn't feel the same way, then I'm screwed!" Tom looked over to them, laying close beside each other on a blanket.

Draft

{ Kayla, 1986 }

(Will hopefully be continued soon.)

I slept better that night than I had for several months. I suppose it could have been a matter of sheer exhaustion, but no one will ever convince me it was anything other than having Tom back at home.

When Tom came through the door, I didn't care about the "end of tour" funkiness or who was watching - he gave me a fierce hug and a kiss that under any other set of circumstances would have had me taking off my panties. As it was, I managed not to let Puck trip us, or to forget to say hello to Fred, who just stood solemnly beside the door with a jacket in his hands.

"I'll be outside if you need me." he said, and let himself out.

This is the Time

{ Kayla, 1985 }

(Back to the lame format of Love's Got Me Doin' Time with random things that I think are cute and deserve to be written about.)

Tom was enjoying his last day of Memorial weekend by doing some tanning on a fold out chair in the backyard. 

At least I didn't walk in to find Ren standing over him in one of her little bikinis, which would have been a real kicker to a day from hell. Apparently he heard my car, or Puck tipped him off to my arrival, because he was coming into the house just as I opened the door.

"Hi, honey, I'm home!" I called out. "Possibly forever."

There was a brief silence while he processed that, then he said, "Fired or laid off?"

I laughed. A little too hard, but I laughed. "They're shutting the whole place down. I would have preferred fired."

"Oh, Kay," he said and opened his strong, sun-kissed arms. I went right into them, not caring if I got oil on my work clothes. What the hell did it matter? Are they work clothes if you're out of work?

After a while, he said, "You'll be okay, you know."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I know Ren will take care of things until things get better for me."

"No, don't worry about that. I'll find a way to do it."

"The universe is expanding."

"I'll take your word for it.'

"No, it's something Fred says to me. God. Poor Freddie. What's going to happen to him? He loves that job."

"Do you serious doubt he'll land on his feet?"

"No... I just hope he doesn't get too bruised on the way down."

He smiled. It was one of those you-are-crazy-but-that's-what-I-love-about-you smiles. I'll take one anytime.

"It's all right," he said, pulling me closer. "My real point was, go easy on yourself. You'll find what it is you're going to do next. Or it will find you."

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to sit here eating bonbons all day?"

"I'm more afraid you'll run yourself into the ground. Or decide to redecorate."

That made me back up. "You know, I do want to paint the kitchen."

He sighed dramatically and flipped his bangs away from his eyes with one seductive swoop.

"What? I'm just talking about painting."

"It's never - never - just painting."

He was right, of course.

Draft

 

{ Will be finished soon. Check back here for the updated version }

One day two Irish men were digging in a ditch / One called the other an Irish son of a / Peter Murphy had a goat, a wiser goat was he / Along came a bumblebee and stung him on his cock / tail gingerale, five cents a glass / If you don’t like it shove it up your as / k me no questions, tell me no lies / If you get hit with a bag of / it just close your eyes.

- Warren Barnes, great grandfather of Kayla Mae

The yard was lush with grass, delicate against Kayla’s olive-brown skin. Rays of sun shone through the trees in Fred’s front yard, reflecting off the pallid water in a stone birdbath, making steamy waves in the air. Fred was laying on the grass, admiring Kayla’s smile as she laughed at something he said, her head burrowed warmly against his well-muscled arm.
 

It must have been at least one hundred degrees, but the humidity didn’t bother him, and it didn’t seem to bother Kayla either. The weather channel has been reporting record highs all week. There hasn’t been a hotter day in the danity town of Birch Falls since June of 1943. This was good news for Fred, who appreciates quiet, relaxing drives to the beach on weekdays after work. He’s always busy on Fridays - that was the day Tom put aside for band practice and meetings. Saturday and Sunday nights were for playing gigs at local clubs. Because of this new whacked-out schedule, Fred’s alone time with Kayla was very short and limited. Working out at the gym on the first floor of his apartment building took up the first few hours of his mornings, and work took up the rest of the day. His shift at Scrappe ends at four o’clock, giving him two hours of retreating daylight to drive down to the shore with the windows of his beat-up Chevrolet rolled down, the cool evening breeze smacking his hair across his sunglasses.
 

“I’m glad you came by the house, Freddie.” Kayla said. “I miss you.”
 

Fred looked down, his eyes glancing over her red tube top, and said, “I miss you too. It’s been hard finding a way over here - Tom’s been booking gigs left-and-right and Holly has been having me close the shop for two weeks straight!”
 

Kayla stopped smiling and said, “I could close the shop for you, Freddie. I don’t mind it. I’m there late enough anyway. I wait around the back room until ten o’clock so Tom and I can get dinner.”
 

Fred shook his head. “No, no. I can close the shop, that’s not a problem. It just takes up a lot of time since the place stops serving customers at eight but stays alight until nine-thirty. How late does Tom work?” Fred’s arm tightened around Kayla. He felt her breasts press against his side and smiled.
 

“Oh, it depends on the day. He locks the doors at nine o’clock and then goes through all the buckets of film to make sure everything is in the right place. He tidies up and sweeps the floor of the back room: stuff like that. He doesn’t make it to Scrappe until after ten. We go for dinner and end up here. He doesn't leave until after midnight. I ask him to stay, but he often doesn’t.”
 

“I don’t know how he could decline such an offer, pretty lady.”

 

Kayla laughed at this, and Fred couldn’t help but wonder what Kayla and Tom’s relationship was really like. On the outside, they seemed to be the perfect couple. But, knowing Kayla for as long as he has, her relationship with Tom could be in the gutter and she wouldn’t say a word about it. Fred thought he could read Kayla pretty well, though, so he wasn’t concerned about the later thought. If something was wrong, he was sure he could catch something in her voice or smell it on her. Their relationship was weird like that. Fred could always sense when something wasn’t right.

 

“Fred,” that was Kayla, speaking in nothing more than a whisper above the highly anticipated gust of wind that rattled the grass around them, dancing gently over their skin and cooling the sweat on his brow.


There was something in her voice that made Fred uneasy.


Later, he would remember this moment. He’d think about it in his dreams: the way her hair felt on his arm, the brilliant flame in her amber eyes, the way her bottom lip twitched between words.

Murder Bird

{ 1987 }

 

Kayla awoke to the sound of a motor running. The waking was gradual; at first the sound was there at the back of her consciousness as part of a dream, and then it seemed to grow louder and louder so that the dream itself was lost in a roar. Then she became aware of the fact that she was in bed and that the sound was not within her head at all but from someplace outside of herself.

She opened her eyes to find the room flooded with morning sunlight. Below her bedroom window the caretaker was cutting the grass with a power mower.

I slept, Kayla thought in amazement. How could I have slept so hard when Tom--

Just the thought of his name brought her to a sitting position. The KISS alarm clock on the bedside table showed ten-fifteen.

Why, the morning’s half over, Kayla thought incredulously. I’ve been asleep for over six hours!

It had been three in the morning when Tom had decided to leave. Tom’s mother, who had been seated in a chair opposite the front door, had sprung to her feet when Tom came rushing down the stairs, a leather handbag thudding against his legs.

“Hurry now, Tommy. It’s late.” Mrs. Keifer told him wearily.

“Please don’t go with her. Tom!” Kayla put out a hand to steady herself against the back of the couch. “Don’t believe a word she says about me! You know me better than that, Tom! Please, you can’t go with her. You can go tomorrow if you still don’t believe me.”

Mrs. Keifer and Tom had crossed to the foyer. Mrs. Keifer’s face was white and drawn, and for the first time since she had met her, Kayla thought the woman looked old.

“That’s it? You’re going home?” Kayla asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“Yes. Tommy is exhausted. He’s been putting up with you for far too long and he’s finally had enough. You’ve manipulated him enough, and you’ve embarrassed him enough.” She turned to Fred, who had risen to stand at Kayla’s side. “This is all your fault. Tom wouldn’t have wasted his time with this girl if you had just--”

“Of course,” Fred said, cutting her off before she could even point a finger in his direction. “I let everyone down.” There was a spark in his eye that made Mrs. Keifer huff and turn her back. She opened the door, gestured to Tom for him to follow, and then they were gone.

“I won’t be able to sleep,” Kayla said, watching Tom through the window as he got into his car. “I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.”

But she had. The golden light of midmorning proved that. She had slept so hard that her body ached from having been so long in one position, and when she got out of bed her legs felt rubbery, as though they might give way at any moment.

The events of the night before rose in her mind with the odd, unfocused quality of a nightmare - the argument at The Empire, the drive home, the cold, sharp hatred in the eyes of Tom’s mother, who was waiting for them on the front porch.

“If she hadn’t been messing around with Fred,” she had cried. “If she hadn’t insisted on dragging out this affair--”

“But I didn’t!” Kayla had told her. “I didn’t!”

Mrs. Keifer had not heard her, or she had heard but not listened.

“I’m not blaming you any more than I’m blaming Fred.” Mrs. Keifer had said, but in fact she was blaming Kayla.

“I didn’t,” Kayla said aloud now, her voice coming strange in the empty apartment. “I didn’t have an affair. I have never even had the smallest feelings for Fred. I’ve never touched him! I’m a good girl.”

Why was Mrs. Keifer making up these lies? How could Tom believe any of them?

There was a rap at the door. Kayla snapped out of her reverie with a jolt.

“Who is it?”

“Freddie. Just checking to see how you got through the night.”

“Wait a minute, will you? I’m just getting up.” Hurriedly, Kayla went to the closet and got a robe. A glance in the mirror as she passed it caused her to stop to comb her hair. Fred might only be a friend, but he was, after all, a male friend that Kayla didn’t want to totally disgust.

The fact was reflected in his eyes when she opened the door to him.

“I was going to ask if you slept,” he said. “I thought you’d be haggard and baggy-eyed. I sure thought wrong.”

“I did sleep,” Kayla told him with a touch of apology in her voice. “I don’t know how I could, but I did. I’m just going to make breakfast. Would you like some?”

“I’ve already eaten, thanks. I’m on my way out to work. Have you called Tom yet?”

“No. He wouldn’t answer if I tried.”

“You’re probably right.” He hooked his thumbs into his pants pockets. “Maybe you could show up at the house.”

“I’m sure that Mrs. Keifer isn’t permitting visitors.”

“Okay, okay.” He reached out and gave her chin a tap. “Keep it up. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see you after work.”

He was off, and Kayla pushed the door shut behind him. It clicked in place and she turned to walk away from it - then, slowly, she turned back and slid the bolt.

She went back into the bedroom. The sound of the lawn mower was dimmer now; the caretaker had moved a yard across the way. The sunlight had shifted slightly, and shafts of gold fell across the rumpled bed and reached over to touch the alarm clock on the dresser, Tom’s picture reigned supreme, surrounded by a jar of cold cream, a tube of lipstick, a pallet of eye-shadow.

Statuesque

“Kayla! Kayla, Tom’s here!” Ren’s voice floated up from downstairs.

“I’ll be down in just a minute! Tell him to wait!” In the room at the end of the hall, Kayla began hurriedly to take down her curlers.

Sprawled out on Kayla’s bed, Fred regarded her with amusement.

“Tell him to wait? You know he’s going to wait with Ren down there. She’ll be flirting with him.”

“If that’s so,” Kayla said wryly, “I’ll never have him come to the door to pick me up ever again. Ren acts like Tom’s heaven’s gift to the earth.”

“I know someone else who acts the same way,” Fred said teasingly.

“Don’t be an asshole, Freddie.”

“When you wake up at six o’clock on Sunday morning to wash and set your hair before going to the beach, I’d say that’s a sign of something.”

Kayla shot her friend an irritated glance and dumped a handful of clips into the tray on the dressing table. The frustrating thing was that Fred, as usual, was right. It was ridiculous to take pains with your hair when you date was to go swimming. Still, here she was, taking down the curls, relieved to find them falling in the right direction, wondering if Tom would like her bangs curled forward over her forehead instead of pushed aside in the way he was used to.

You’re an idiot, Kayla Roman, she told herself helplessly, letting a man you hardly know turn you inside out like this. True, you’re not exactly a glamor girl, but with Ren’s lingerie show in a couple of weeks, you’ll be a model and that certainly counts for something. There will be plenty of nice-looking guys, parties, and dinners, and you’ll get asked to them. Why do you have to go all soft in the head about some skinny rocker who likes cheese pizza and has more jewelry than you.

She knew as she asked the question that she would have no answer for it, and she reached for a comb, smiling ruefully at her reflection in the mirror before her. From the moment she kissed Tom, sitting in his beat-up car at the curb in front of her house, the glow of the streetlights bright against his blue eyes, all the other men she had ever known had faded into nothing. It had taken her three days to carefully plan a phone call. It was the first time she had ever done such a thing, and she had worried that he might decide that she was too forward and never make any effort to go out with her at all.

The worry had been unnecessary, for he had turned up at Scrappe the same night. She had glanced up from the table she was clearing and had seen him there in the doorway, and relief had washed through her. It had taken her a moment to steady herself enough to cross the room to him and say lightly, “Tom, hello!”

“Hello, miss,” he had regarded her with mock seriousness. “I’m looking for a beautiful gal with big brown eyes and lovely blond hair. Has she been in here tonight?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Kayla told him happily. “but if you’ll sit down, I’ll bring you something to drink, and maybe we can wait for her together.”

They had sat over hot chocolate and talked that evening until Holly had finally told them that she had to lock the doors for the night.When she thought back on it, Kayla realized that it was she and not Tom who had done most of the talking. He had sat across from her, smiling and interested, asking questions, laughing at her stories, seeming fascinated by the antics of her and Fred. He had volunteered little, however, about his own background. Even now, after knowing him for a month, she knew only that he has lived in Birch Falls all his life and he lives with his younger sister; Georgine was her name.

Still, she thought reasonably, it wasn’t as though they had spent a lot of time alone together where confidences would come out easily. Their working hours did not coincide. The only time they really had to date was on weekdays after work. Tom had gigs on the weekends with his band and Kayla had fittings with Ren at her lingerie shop on Jackson Street, which happened to be across the street and seven shops down from The Galaxy, a club that Tom played every Sunday night.

Giving the curls a final pat and glancing around for a T-shirt to pull over her bikini, Kayla had a feeling that it was going to be a good night.

“See you later,” she said briskly to Fred.

The Honk

(Kayla, 1984)

 

"I don't know what you're talking about." I shot back, way too quickly for the lie to be any good. Here's the thing about lying: a part of you has to mean it - even if it's a tiny, sinister shred that only lives in the blackest, deepest part of your mind. You have to want it to be true.

 

I guess I didn't.

 

"Oh, come on," Ren said with a roll of her eyes. "It's been, what? A week?" She cocked her head and asked, "You been to second base yet?"

 

I've read plenty of books about female independence and how we shouldn't let men distract us from our dreams and desires, but all I could do was look at Ren and say, "You think I could get to second base?"

 

I hate to admit it, but it was probably one of the greatest compliments I had received in my entire life. Tom is so amazingly gorgeous and talented. I still it find it strange how he'd be interested in a girl like me.

 

"His real name is Carl." I said finally.

 

Ren only repeated, "Carl." as if trying it on for size.

 

"Yeah," I said. "Kinda funny, isn't it?"

 

"Carl is a popular name..." Ren giggled a little and made her way closer to the bed. "Now you can't stop thinking about him... You always want to know what he's doing... You'd kill to know if he's thinking about you..." she said, like a doctor reeling off symptoms.

 

"Is that bad?"

 

She shrugged. "That's too bad, kid."

 

"You've got to help me." I pleaded.

 

"Oh, sorry. Not my department."

 

Of course it wasn't. It was clear that Ren never had to deal with something like this. She couldn't possibly understand life on the outside, looking through the window at a place she'd never know. Then I thought about the hours she'd spent at The Empire and wondered, Or could she?

 

"Come on!" I said.

 

"Why not tell it to Fred? He knows more about Tom than I do." She eased onto her bed and crossed her legs. "I'm sure that boy would do anything for a handful of skin. Maybe he'll do it for a peak at your bra strap. Ask him to talk to Tom about his feelings for you. Guys talk just as casually about relationships as we do." Ren smiled to herself as she lowered her head, as if to hide it.

 

"That isn't funny. There's no way I'm doing that. I have some respect. I mean, if I can hold out on Tom past the first date, I must have a lot of self-respect. That took a lot, you know! He's so perfect..."

 

Ren nodded her head and took my hand. "I understand. If it were me, his ass would have been--"

 

"I know, Ren." I pulled my hand away from her grip and turned to crawl out of the bed. "I guess I'll ask Fred to talk to him, but he sure won't be rewarded with a peak at my bra."

 

 



The Golden Age

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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."