Joanne sat quietly, sipping a soda, head in hand, while Maureen and Angel chatted happily beside her. Fucking third wheel… once again. The must have been there for three hours or so. Gigs didn't last much longer than that, right?
"Jo? Joanne… Joanne!"
"Huh?" she asked, feeling a hand shaking her arm.
"You've been sitting there not saying anything all night long," Maureen informed her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, m'fine," she mumbled, eyes dropping to the table, avoiding the gaze of the lead singer.
"Come on," Maureen smiled, tugging on her hand gently. "Let's go dance or something."
"I dunno, Mo," Joanne grumbled, trying to sink lower into the booth.
"Come on, Jo," Angel grinned, grabbing her other hand.
Joanne grumbled and resisted the whole way out of the booth and over onto the dance floor. But eventually, Maureen and Angel won and had the brainy Harvard-bound girl swaying back and forth.
"Isn't this fun?" Maureen asked, latching a hand onto Angel's.
"Mhm," Joanne nodded as Maureen pushed her back and forth to the rhythm of the music.
"Don't get too excited. Wouldn't want you to die of a hernia or something," Maureen giggled.
"Don't plan on it," she replied as Maureen let go of her hand to toss it around Angel's shoulders. "I've got a headache. I'm gonna go sit. I'll be fine, I promise," she buzzed, taking advantage of her newly freed hand, and sped back towards the booth.
br>
Last song… Roger thought to himself. He glanced around the room, searching for a certain dark skinned brainiac. There she was, sitting alone at the booth, picking at the edge of the table, an empty soda can in front of her. Roger frowned at her lack of attention and enthusiasm for his band, but sighed and prepared himself for the last song.
As soon as the last chords were sung, Roger had tossed his guitar down and hopped off the stage. He climbed through bunches of screaming fangirls, crawled through mobs of drunk high schoolers and weaseled his way over to Joanne's booth.
"Hey," he puffed, quite out of breath.
Joanne jumped slightly as she turned to see the speaker. "Hi," she squeaked, jaw dropping slightly.
"Did you like it?" he asked, pushing his thumb over his shoulder, motioning towards the stage.
"Yeah," she smiled thinly, still mad about Mimi. "It was good."
Roger frowned slightly. "Oh," he murmured.
"So where's Mimi?" Joanne asked, sitting up straighter.
"I dunno," he shrugged. "Figured she'd be with you. If she's not here, then she's probably out screwing some old guy."
Joanne laughed at the comment, but quickly wiped the grin off of her
face. "You let her do that?"
"Let her do that?" he echoed, a bit confused. "I'm not her boyfriend, I don't care what she does."
Joanne's eyes grew wide. "Oh," she squeaked. "Jesus Christ, I've just made the biggest fool of myself… I'm such an idiot," she murmured under her breath. "I've gotta go."
"Wait," Roger pleaded, grabbing onto her shoulders. "Erm… whaddaya say we go grab something to eat… I hear Burger King's open all night."
Joanne paused. She melted under his gaze, feeling herself collecting in a puddle on the ground. "Okay," she nodded. "Mo, I'm gonna go grab some food… with Roger. I'll be over afterwards…"
"Okay," Maureen replied as she and Angel approached the table. "I should be home. If not, you can let yourself in."
"Bye Mo, Ang," Roger nodded as he grabbed onto Joanne's hand.
"Bye," Maureen giggled as she watched Joanne's face change from one of shock to one of complete happiness. "So Ang, what now? Wanna go grab some ice cream?"
"Okay," Angel nodded.
br>
Mark tried to look around for Maureen, but found himself unable to focus on anything besides Collins. The man commanded his attention… He looked up at him and smiled nervously. Collins returned the grin, rubbing his fingers on the back of Mark's hand. The filmmaker's eyes were inexplicably drawn to the sight. His dark fingers were such a contrast to the pale skin of his hand. Mark's free hand actually twitched, itching to film the moment.
A moment later he forgot what he had been wanting to do. Collins had gotten up, still holding his hand. A sly grin curved his lips, lips that Mark had watched too often that night. "Wanna dance?"
"S-sure…" Mark stuttered out. Mentally he kicked himself for being such a spaz. But Collins didn't seem to notice his social ineptness. The larger man led him out to the dance floor, bringing him into the crowd of dancing bodies. Mark gulped at the closeness of the people. He reached up and adjusted his glasses, cursing the way he felt himself shaking. Collins stopped at some point, tugging on Mark's hand to bring him close. Mark felt himself blushing at the sensation of Collins's body near his. His hand remained in Collins's, and soon he felt himself relaxing, letting his body sway to the music. People had often told him that he was spastic when he danced. He only hoped that no one got seriously injured… this time.
Collins had always thought of himself as a fair dancer. He managed to keep a steady rhythm with his hips and limbs at least. But Mark… Collins had to bite his lip not to laugh. The boy's arms flew all over the place, uncoordinated. People actually had to move out of the way to avoid being hit. Collins stepped closer to him. He caught his forearms gently. Mark's cheeks flushed when Collins smoothed his hands down the boy's arms, taking his hands. Without a word, he placed Mark's arms around his own neck. His hands relocated to Mark's hips, moving them in a gentle sway. Collins liked the feeling of Mark's slim body against his and how Mark's fingers dug slightly into the back of his neck.
He slid his hands around to the small of his date's back, brushing against a sliver of bare skin. Collins grinned a little when Mark's eyes slid shut. Daringly, he bent his head down, his breath mingling with Mark's. The music in the club drowned out any inner voices protesting. A warm feeling flooded his stomach when their lips finally connected. Mark let out a surprised squeak, making Collins pull away. "Sorry," he apologized, thinking he had misread the filmmaker.
Mark touched his lips lightly, the very thing Collins was longing to do.
What was it about this boy that made Collins act like a teenager again?
The anarchist-turned-computer aid didn't have time to ponder it as Mark pressed against him again, looking up at him longingly. Collins reached up to rub a thumb along Mark's cheekbone before leaning down for another kiss.
br>
Maureen cleared her throat as the engine in her car turned over. She squinted her eyes; gently tapping the gas, praying the car would start. And it did, with a cough and a sputter. She grinned as she shifted. "You can change the radio or the tape if you want," she offered.
Angel smiled back, flipping through her collection of tapes. "Pat Benetar," he said excitedly. "The Police… actually, this is fine," he said, noticing that Maureen was humming along.
"We're here anyway," she said, pulling into a parking spot. "Ooh, I'm crooked."
Angel opened the door, peering out at the ground. "Not too bad."
"Okay," Maureen smiled, turning the car off. Slamming the door, she shoved her keys into one pocket and reached around to her back, pulling out a few crumpled bills. Angel dug into his pocket as well but Maureen pulled his hand back. "I got it, babe," she said, smiling.
Once they'd ordered, chocolate chocolate chip for Angel and strawberry for Maureen, they walked hand in hand over to the curb and sat down on the sidewalk. Angel watched as she consumed the frozen treat, trying not to laugh at the mess she was making.
"What?" Maureen asked, pulling her ice cream away from her face as she noticed him watching her.
He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just… making a mess."
Maureen smiled, licking her lips. "I'm not messy, I'm creative."
"Well, whatever you want to call it, you missed some," he said, pointing to the corner of her mouth.
"I did?" she asked. "Where?"
"There," he said, scooting closer, his finger centimeters from her mouth. "Let me get it."
"Okay," Maureen said, waiting for him to brush his finger across her mouth. But Angel hadn't intended to use his hands as she soon found out when his lips brushed against hers instead. She nearly dropped her cone in surprise but she let her eyelids slide shut and she leaned into the kiss. After what seemed like an eternity and two seconds at once, he pulled back, looking up at her. She opened her eyes and smiled dreamily at him.
"It's… s'gone," he murmured, smiling slightly.
"Yeah… thanks," she replied, a dumb smile hanging on her face.
br>
Maureen still had the same dazed look on her face on the car ride home as she did back on the curb. She sat quietly, seeing stars and fireworks. He sat quietly, not sure if he'd done the right thing. A heavy silence hung in the air. An awkward silence. Angel shivered, still staring out the window. Maureen reached up, running her fingers over her lips as they stopped at a red light, still able to feel his lips against hers.
"Maureen,"
"Huh?"
"It's green," Angel said, pointing at the stoplight.
"Oh," she smiled. "Yeah."
Maureen turned left, and then pulled into his driveway. Shifting into park, she sat back quietly, wanting to lean over and kiss him right then. He sat quietly, too, not getting out of the car, not moving at all.
"So I," she started.
"Thanks for the ride," Angel said quickly, smiling over at her as he unbuckled.
"Sure," she smiled. "I um, I had fun tonight."
"Yeah, me, too. Soooo I'll see you at school on Monday?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
He reached for the door handle.
"Ang," she said, grabbing his shoulder.
He turned around to face her. "Yeah?"
Before another word was spoken, she'd leaned across the seat and pressed her lips against his, her hand on his cheek. He kissed her back, letting it last longer this time, letting his fingers sift through her dark hair. She pulled back, smiling, almost giggling.
"So," Angel mumbled, grinning back.
"So you'll call me?"
"Yeah," he said, reaching for the door handle again.
"Ang,"
"Yeah?"
"Night," she said, kissing his cheek before he hopped out of her car.
She pulled out of his driveway after watching him walk into his house and sighed happily. "Wait till Joanne hears about this."
br>
Roger cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before shoving another French fry in his mouth. He and Joanne had managed to make some sort of conversation on the way to the fast-food place, but once they had gotten their meals, it died. Joanne was staring intently at her burger, refusing to meet his gaze. He could tell that she still felt awkward about what had happened with Mimi. "So, ah, where'd you get the idea that Mimi was my girlfriend?" he asked, his voice teasing slightly.
Joanne looked up, startled. A little blush spread in her mocha cheeks. "She told me you two were sort of a thing, and I assumed - "
"You assumed?" Roger grinned playfully at her above his chocolate shake. "Now, Joanne, you know what assuming does, right?" His grin grew wider at her confused expression (which was quite adorable, he thought.) "It makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me.'" She laughed. He was surprised at the musical sound. Inspiration struck. Frantically, he dug in his beat up backpack for his notebook and started scribbling in it. Notes and words streamed from his mind to his pen. He was so deep into his work that he didn't notice his companion until she spoke.
"Roger?" His head jerked up, a retort on his lips. The harsh words died when he saw the fallen look on her face. "I know I'm boring. I'll just go…" She started to get up. Roger quickly scrambled out of his seat to stand next to her.
"Joanne, no… You're not boring and I certainly don't want you to go. Sorry, I just… I got inspired and I had to get it down before I forgot it, you know? You, your laugh shook something loose in my mind and I'd be kicking myself in the ass if I had forgotten it…" He stopped his little babble, wondering at the look on her face. "You okay?"
The hopeful look in her eyes and the secret smile she gave him struck a chord within him. "I inspired you?"
He sank down to his knees beside her, half-smiling. "Yeah…" His voice was low and gravelly, the one he used for ballads and love songs. Cautiously, he raised a callused hand and touched her face. Her skin was soft and smooth. Almost as if he couldn't control himself, he leaned forward and lightly kissed her. Joanne, surprisingly, kissed him back. Music exploded in Roger's head, but for once, he didn't scramble to write it down in his notebook.
