Disclaimer: We do not own Twilight, but we do own several versions of the song used in this chapter. Hope you enjoy! See ya at the bottom!
jam–a two-minute period during which the action happens. The jam may last less than two minutes if the lead jammer decides to call off the jam. There may be any number of jams in a bout.
Chapter 3
"So, I heard you gave Cherry a ride the other night after the bout," Jasper says, waggling his eyebrows.
"I swear, you and Emmett are worse than two old women. All you're missing are muumuus and curlers in your hair, because you have the gossiping down pat." I roll my eyes.
"But you're not denying that you gave her a ride."
"No."
"So, if you gave her a ride, then you had to have talked to her," he quips back, leaving the statement as more of a question.
"Yeah, I talked to her," I answer, lifting my head up from the laptop I've been working on for the last hour. "You know, if you worked as much as you talk, we'd be finished with this by now."
"Someone's a little testy today."
"I'm not either! There's just nothing to say. Yeah, I gave her a ride to the bar after the bout. Her car broke down. We made small talk on the way there and talked briefly while we were in the bar. End of story." I put my head back down and start working again.
"Come on, Edward! You've been wanting to talk to Cherry for, I don't know, forever. Now that you finally have, you're not going to tell me anything about it? What was she like? How did she smell? Was she as hot up close as she is when she's in the rink? Did she flirt with you? These are the kind of things I want to know...the things I need to know! Bros before hos! Let me live vicariously through you!" Jasper is now standing in front of me, waving his arms around wildly, emphasizing each word.
I let out a deep breath of frustration and defeat, knowing that I'm not going to get by with the minimal information I've given him.
"She smelled amazing," I say, not able to keep the grin from spreading across my face.
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Jasper says, with a huge smile on his face. He claps his hands together, pulls up a chair and sits right in front of me.
I tell him everything. I give him the play-by-play of her wailing on her car and tell him how amazing it felt to have her in my car. I told him that she blushed when I opened the door for her and I even confessed about my overly-inappropriate inner dialogue. When I mention that she goes to the bar to listen to music because she really enjoys it...and that I'm planning on giving her guitar lessons, he chokes on the cheeseburger he's chowing down on.
"Back the fuck up," he demands, after he clears his throat. "You're giving her guitar lessons?"
"Yeah, I told her that I know how to play and she said that she'd always wanted to learn. It seemed rude not to offer."
"Right. Rude. Sure. This is all about being polite." He stares across the desk at me, cheeseburger in mid-air, waiting for me to argue with what he's insinuating.
"Damn it, Jasper! I just wanted to see her again, not like at the rink or while she's skating, but I wanted to see her and talk to her again like I did that night." I push my glasses up, feeling frustrated with my pussy-ass self and annoyed with Jasper for always making me talk shit out.
"Why didn't you just ask her out on a date?" he asks nonchalantly, like it's no big deal, when he knows damned well that it is a huge deal.
I laugh, not from humor, but because I can just imagine what would've happened if I had. Just thinking about the rejection I'd certainly receive makes me want to never talk to her again.
"She has a boyfriend."
"Really? Did you ask her?"
"No, but he came in right after we were talking at the bar. He had his hands all over her; I wanted to punch him in the face!"
"Whoa, Mr. Make Love Not War! I can't believe I'm hearing such violence," Jasper jokes.
"Shut up!"
He sits there staring at me, incredulously. His eyes get a mischievous gleam and his mouth turns up into a smart-ass smirk.
"What?"
"Nothing." He shrugs his shoulders, but I can tell he wants to say something. He sits there quietly for a minute, in deep thought, like he's working out a math problem or something. "So, you mentioned that she likes to go listen to music at Willie's...you think she's ever watched you?"
I push my glasses up and grip the back of my neck, rubbing it to release the tension. "I don't know, man." Because I don't know. I mean, yeah, as she was talking, I let myself go there. I thought that maybe I was the guy she was talking about. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind, but there's no way..." I let my words drift off, refusing to get my hopes up.
"But you could be," Jasper says, leaning back in his chair.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"I've just never seen you act like this over a chick before. Wait a minute. Do you even know her real name?"
"No. I didn't ask. I didn't even think about it, actually." That's so weird. To me, she's just always been Cherry. It never crossed my mind to ask her what her real name is.
My brain goes through a whole list of girl's names, trying to think of one that fits her. She's not a Jennifer or a Mallory...definitely not a Tanya or a Victoria. As I make my way through all sorts of names, I can't think of one that works.
"Earth to Edward!" Jasper says, interrupting my thoughts.
"Sorry, I was just trying to think of what her real name could be."
"I'm sure you could ask Emmett. I bet he might know...or you could man up and ask her! Now, there's an idea!"
I wad up the piece of paper I had some notes written on and nail him right in the face with it.
He laughs, knowing he had it coming. He also knows how I am around women. He really has no room to talk, because he's not much better, but he talks a good talk.
"So, are you playing tonight?"
"Yeah, my set starts at seven o'clock. You coming?"
"Maybe. You think Cherry will be there?"
"Don't even fucking start with that shit! I'll never be able to get on stage if I think she's there."
I feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach and my mouth is suddenly dry. I've never been nervous onstage. It's the one place I feel completely comfortable, like I'm in another world. A world where I'm not an over-educated accountant counting beans all day. A world where I have the self-confidence to ask Cherry out on a date. When I'm onstage, I feel like I can transform and be someone else. The last thing I want is for that feeling to be taken away from me. I crave it. I need it. It's part of me.
So, I have to put Cherry out of my mind, at least for tonight.
~~~~~~~~CZ~~~~~~~~
I pull my baseball cap down tight and remove my glasses, stashing them in my glove compartment just like every other night I play. I don't know why, but I've done it since the first time I played a gig here. I guess it's like a pre-show ritual now. I like that I look different when I'm on the stage. It's still me up there. I'm just showing a different side of me; someone I don't get to be in my everyday life. I'm far-sighted. The glasses are mostly for reading and crunching numbers, so I don't need them onstage. I don't read music when I perform; I play from my soul.
Felix, one of the bouncers at One-Eyed Willie's, is waiting at the back door for me. He stands at about 6 feet 5 inches tall, which is only a few inches more than me but, I swear, just one of his biceps is the size of my entire head. I've known Felix for a couple of years now and he's great at his job. I've seen him physically throw guys out into the alley as if they were bags of peanuts, more times than I can count. If I didn't know that his secret passion is pet photography, I'd probably still be scared of him.
"Hey, man! How's it going?" he asks while opening the door for me.
"I'm doing well, Felix. You?"
"I'm great, E. Last night, I photographed the cutest, fuzziest kitten I've ever seen! I didn't want to give it back to the owner!" The smile on his face is so big that I can't help but return it. Remembering that he can kick my ass with both hands and one leg tied behind his back keeps me from making any kind of comment.
I make my way to the small area behind the stage, nodding and waving to various employees along the way. It's illegal to smoke in bars now, but the smell of cigarettes is still strong in this old building. When I'm here after a bout, the stench sometimes bothers me but on the nights that I perform, the aroma soothes me, letting the peacefulness settle in my bones that I only get when I play.
My set starts in about five minutes, so I take my acoustic guitar out of its case and play a few cords to determine whether or not it needs to be tuned. Once I'm happy with its sound, I lean the guitar up against the wall and try to mentally prepare myself for tonight.
I purposefully stop myself from thinking about Cherry. If I suspect she is out there watching me perform, I'll lose my shit for sure. Maybe she's on a date with her meathead boyfriend, or maybe they're at her place making dinner, or cuddling or doing other things on the couch. Fuck! This is not helping my situation at all.
"Dude, are you okay?"
I look up and see Marcus staring at me as if I've grown an extra head or something.
I tell him that I'm fine but I can tell he doesn't believe me. I realize that I am wringing my hands over and over and I think I've been pacing the floor but I can't really remember. I've got to get my shit together...fast.
"You sure, E? I've never seen you like this before a gig. You're walking in circles, mumbling, and I ain't gonna lie, your eyes are kinda crazy right now."
I let out a deep breath and hang my head. The smell of whiskey catches my attention and, when I look back up at Marcus, I see him holding out a shot for me. I take it, giving him a grateful smile, and toss the liquid down my throat. It burns so damned good.
"What's her name?"
I immediately start coughing so hard my eyes are burning, tears seeping out of the corners. I pound my fist on my chest then wipe my face before answering. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Bullshit! You got it bad, my man," he chuckles at me. "Is she here?"
"I don't know. I hope not."
"Well, whether she is or not isn't important. When you get out there, sing like you two are the only people in the room. Don't worry about anything else, just sing to her."
"Thanks, Marcus."
"No problem. Now, get out there and kick some ass!"
I take another deep breath, roll my neck around a couple of times, and shake any remaining nerves from my shoulders and arms. I can do this. Just sing to her.
Hearing Marcus announce me as "Masen" and the applause that follows makes my skin tingle with excitement. There really is nothing like performing live. I'm at peace and on edge at the same time; it's these contrasting feelings that make me come back every Tuesday and Thursday to perform.
I sit on the wooden stool that's been placed on the stage and pull the mic stand closer to me. The lights are so bright I can't see anything or anyone past the edge of the stage but I give the audience a small smile and wave before starting my first song.
Just sing to her, I repeat in my head.
I gently strum a couple of notes before putting my mouth close to the mic and start singing.
These...arms...of...mine...
They are lonely...
Lonely and feeling...blue
These arms of mine...
They are yearning...
Yearning...from wanting...you
And if you...
Would let them hold...you
Oh, how grateful I would be...
This song by Otis Redding is one of my all-time favorites and I've played it a few times before but never have I let the lyrics take over like they are tonight. My nervousness is gone and, in its place, is pain and desire; the power of my voice leaves no doubt that what I'm singing is true.
Come on...
Come on, baby
Just be my little woman...just be my lover...
I need me somebody...somebody to treat me right...
Fifteen minutes later I am standing up and waving to the crowd, as they cheer louder than they ever have before. My voice is scratchy from overuse and I am covered in sweat but I have never felt better. I'm almost to the curtain leading backstage when I hear Emmett and Jasper yelling and whistling at me. I turn to give them a little bow when I see her.
Cherry.
She's sitting at a table with Barbie and another teammate of hers, the short one with spiky hair. I think her name is Punky BruiseHer or something like that. I can't believe she's really here and, fuck me, she's looking directly at me! She cocks her head to the side with a curious look on her face before I come to my senses. I quickly pull my cap down over my eyes and walk off the stage.
How in the hell am I going to survive Cherry's first lesson with me in four days?
A/Ns:
Jenny Kate: We highly recommend that you go straight to YouTube and listen to Tab Benoit's version of These Arms of Mine!
Jiff: Then listen to Rob sing "Never Think" because...well, just because! You don't need a reason other than it's beautiful, moving, and it's Rob!
Jenny Kate: And if you mesh those two together, then you'll have our inspiration for the last part of this chapter...and we hope you swoon like we did!
Jiff: We totally swooned while writing that part of the chapter! Hopefully, a certain girl with cherry lip gloss did a little swooning while in the audience, too!
Jenny Kate: I have a feeling things are going to be a little "tense" during their first lesson!
Jiff: What do you guys think? Should Edward fess up or wait for Cherry to bring it up?
Jenny Kate: We absolutely LOVE reading your thoughts/theories, so be sure to tell us in the reviews!
Jiff: Yes! It was great reading your reviews about the boyfriend! Y'all, seriously, don't like Jacob! LOL
Jenny Kate: I'm pretty sure we could start our very own She-Woman Jacob Haters Club with our followers. And I love the level of denial when it comes to Cherry actually having a boyfriend..."we only saw Edward's POV"..."we don't know if Cherry really wanted to kiss him"..."they could totally be friends with benefits"...LMAO.
Jiff: Thanks, again, to Mauigirl60 for being our awesome beta!