Nick
"That's gross, man."
Even though it was gross, Andrew couldn't take his eyes off of the sight. Blinking through large drops of perspiration, I held my shirt in my hands, twisting it like one of those Sham-Wow rags. Sweat poured onto the wooden floor.
"No, the gross part will be for whoever has to clean it up," Lauren said. She was hunched over her equipment, carefully packing her lens' away. She gave me a look and I knew exactly what she was thinking.
It suddenly became mass middle-school hysteria. Lauren and I both got out a loud 'Not it!' before Andrew even opened his mouth. He jumped up, his eyes wide like he had just stepped onto a land mine. He looked around the room as if someone else was bound to appear that he could trump his own 'Not it' on, only to meet five of his own reflections in the large mirrors.
"Fuck," he muttered.
"If it makes you feel better, you can bottle the shit up and sell the DNA," I said. "My sisters would probably jump at the chance."
Andrew scowled. I looked around; Lauren had disappeared. We both stared down at Lake Carter.
"Hey," Andrew said, his voice lowered. "It's none of my business, but what happened to Heather?"
"What? Nothing happened. She's at home."
We shared a look. "So you're still--"
"Yes. No. I don't know," I said. "I don't know what I'm doing. Why?"
Andrew grabbed a mop and bucket that was chilling in the corner and began a half-assed attempt at cleaning. "Well, I was just thinking that if you two had broken up that maybe I--"
I almost choked. "Are you shitting me?"
He held his hands up innocently, dropping the mop he was holding onto the floor. "I was just asking! She's a hottie and she's a sweetheart. I usually don't care about the girls you cheat on, but she's put up with a lot of your crap and--"
I groaned. It was like I was hearing Brian's speech all over again.
"I know she's perfect. That's just it. I'm not sure I can deal with perfect. I mean, that's exactly what I needed while I was going through this crap with my heart and my weight loss and stuff. I needed support. But Heather's the type that I can see in a kitchen with two little floppy haired kids holding onto her legs while she makes...meatloaf."
"She makes damn good meatloaf," Andrew said. He gave me a 'What' look as I just glared.
"I know she does. But now that Heather's almost thirty she's getting all biological clock-y on me. When she sees those Kay Jeweler's commercials she gets all weepy. Same with the Huggies' commercials. I'm not ready for that."
"All thirty year old women are like that though," Andrew said. "It just comes with the territory."
The sound of a door opening caught our attention. Lauren walked back in, minus her camera case. She stared at the smeared sweat on the floor and just smiled.
"Do we have time to go out and try some German beer?" she asked hopefully.
"Hell yeah!" Andrew said. The word 'beer' was magic; he seemed to forget entirely what we were talking about. I gave them a nod.
"I'll meet you guys after I take my shower," I said.
Lauren playfully knee'd Andrew's ass. She turned and laughed. "Don't be long. I don't know that I want to be seen in public alone with this one."
"Hey!"
I laughed. "Don't worry. I'm the Lightning McQueen of showers."
The two of them left, bickering good-naturedly back and forth. I finished cleaning up my own sweat and kicked off my pants before heading towards the archaic showers. As I turned on the hot water and felt the ice cold sting pierce my shoulders, I thought about what Andrew said.
He was probably right. Most thirty year old women did want the whole 'fairy tale' thing.
"But not all women," I muttered under my breath.
At that exact moment, Lauren was probably walking past that huge jewelry store we had passed on the way to the studio. I would have bet a thousand dollars that her head hadn't even turned. Her thoughts were on a large stein of beer.
And did Andrew think I was just going to give Heather to him? I wasn't stupid; I knew she put up with a lot of my crap. And maybe, this whole Lauren thing would work itself out of my system by the time my solo tour was over (yeah, right).
I needed Heather. She was my backup. Even if that meant putting a ring on it to keep her with me--
It was probably a good investment.
Heather
The thing about a Kentucky home is that it’s always home no matter how long you’ve been away from it. I felt instantly better the moment the old screen door shut behind me, like my life with Nick in Los Angeles was some other world, some other life. The only thing that connected me to it was Brian. We’d had a marvelous afternoon. My mom had indeed baked cookies and pinched Brian’s cheeks. Brian and Chris had played catch with Barrett out back while I sat on the steps and watched. And as the sun started going down, Brian had announced it was time for him to go home and I’d waved from the driveway as the rental car he’d chosen had driven away.
I was sitting upstairs in my bedroom, staring at my laptop screen. When I’d last finished writing, my character, Holly, was dating Bryce, who was cheating with his secretary. Eric wasn’t quite as dreamy as Bryce was, though only because Eric was older than Bryce and had a more boyish charm than Bryce did. Bryce was a fierce animalistic kind of hot. Eric was more… squeezable, pinchable. Eric was the kind of guy that girls do make friends with, the kind of guy that moms approved of. Holly loved Bryce, Bryce loved his secretary, and Eric loved Holly.
I stared at the blinking cursor point on the screen at the end of that sentence and wondered how to explain Eric’s love for Holly. My mind filtered through various things he could’ve said or done, but they all seemed obvious, like Holly would have to be a freaking idiot not to see Eric’s love for her. Then I got a brilliant idea.
I’d use Brian as my model for Eric. I mean, Eric was a good hometown country boy and so was Brian. Eric had to be protective of my female character, and Brian was pretty good at protecting me most of the time. Eric had a lot of the same qualities as Brian. Funny, cute, sweet, kind-hearted. The only difference, actually, was that Holly was going to fall in love with Eric.
I was not in love with Brian.
I knew this because I had a chance to be in love with Brian once, a long time ago, and I let it pass me by.
It was 1997 and the Backstreet Boys were on tour and I hadn’t seen Brian in months. I was seventeen and my Junior Prom was coming up. I was ecstatic. I had the best boyfriend a girl could ask for – aside from Nick, of course – and I had a gorgeous dress. It was seafoam blue with shimmery netting that hung down like petals from my waist. The skirt was hooped and hung in a bell around me. I had a tiara and my hair had been done up in a loose, curly updo that hung with tendrils that coiled on either side of my face. My mother was looping her arms around me to hang my Titanic Heart of the Ocean knock off necklace around my neck.
“You look beautiful,” she whispered in my ear.
“Thanks mom,” I answered, smiling into the bathroom mirror.
She laid her hands on my shoulders, “Now Heather, we need to talk about something important.” I looked into her eyes and I just knew I was about to get the sex talk. I didn’t want my mom to bring up the talk. I had plans, you know? I wanted to end the night experienced, no longer a virgin. And Keith, my date, was the perfect guy to do it with for the first time. He was the captain of the football team and he had dark hair with chocolate brown eyes and wore a letterman’s jacket. He was going to go to college on a full scholarship for football.
My mom opened her mouth to continue talking ,but downstairs, the door banged open loudly and a thunderous shout echoed up stairs, “MA! YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN!” It was Chris.
Chris had moved out several years before, just a couple months after graduating high school actually. So it was weird that he was at our house at eight o’clock at night. My stomach rolled with butterflies. Could the cat have dragged in my Keith? My mom sighed, “I’ll be right there Chris.”
“Okay, but hurry up,” he said with a laugh, “You never know when the screaming fan girls might come whisk him away!”
“HI MRS. JOHNSON!”
My eyes widened and so did my mother’s. Her mouth curled into a grin and I squealed and ran for the door, both our minds off the sex talk instantly. I flurried down the stairs, holding my skirt high so I wouldn’t trip over it in my hot pink Converse sneakers (yes, that’s what I was wearing under my princess gown, got a problem with that?). “BRIAN!” I squealed.
He looked different than I remembered him. He was better dressed, for example, and his beautiful strawberry blonde curls had been dyed a dark bricky-reddish brown color but it didn’t mask the most bluest eyes in all of Kentucky. I leaped at him and he caught me midair and laughed, “Heyyy kiddo,” he laughed, spinning me in the velocity of my jump before putting me down. He looked me over, “You look like a seasick cupcake,” he said with a snort.
“It’s junior prom night,” I’d laughed, “I’m leaving in just a couple minutes when Keith gets here.”
“Keith?” Brian raised an eyebrow, “Keith – Keith, hmm. Do I know this Keith?”
“Keith… you know, Roland’s younger brother,” Chris said, answering Brian.
“Ah, Roland, yes,” Brian rolled his eyebrows. “Is he a player like his brother was?” he asked me.
“Keith is a gentleman,” I said simply, then added, “Keith is a football player and Keith is—“
“—not coming,” finished my father, a little more giddy than he should’ve been, considering Keith was my date for my junior prom.
“What?” I demanded.
“Yep,” my dad nodded, wiggling the cordless phone to show he’d just hung up with him, “Keith called and said to apologize to you but he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to come pick you up tonight as he’s violently ill and he hopes maybe ya’ll can go together next year.”
I’d never felt so heartbroken in all my life. Tears sprang into my eyes and I felt my throat close up. I reached to my forehead dejectedly and took hold of my tiara, pulled it off my head and sank into the chair at the foot of the stairs. I covered my eyes and started to cry.
“What’re you taking your crown off for?” Brian asked, his voice concerned.
“Because I’m not going,” I cried quietly.
“Why?” Brian asked.
“I can’t go alone,” I sobbed, “I’d look like such a loser.”
“Aw you are a loser though, Heath,” joked Chris. I heard my father clear his throat and knew Chris was getting The Look. “Sorry,” he muttered.
Suddenly there were hands on my knees and I blinked up through a blurry wall of tears. Brian was on his knee in front of me. He stared up into my eyes. “I’ll go with you.”
“What?” me, Chris, Dad and Mom all said at the exact same time. My dad followed it up by chuckling and Chris said jinx.
“I’ll go with you,” Brian said, “If you don’t mind me not wearing a tux that is, all my suits are in Orlando…” he smiled gently, “No beautiful woman should go through all the trouble of dressing up all beautiful like and not get to go to the prom.”
I could’ve fallen in love with Brian that night.
But I didn’t.
But that is how Holly would fall in love with Eric.
Brian
It felt good to be home. Once my mum had calmed down and stopped smashing me with kisses and hugs and all, I’d settled myself down on the back porch with my dad. The smell of pot roast lingered in the evening air and across the yard, by the creek that rain under the trees that I’d climbed as a child, I could see the tiny glowing dots of lighting bugs. I sipped my sweet tea and rocked in the air quietly.
“How’s Baylee?” my dad asked, “You should’ve brought him with ya, we could’ve gone fishin’.”
“He’s good,” I answered. “Leighanne didn’t want him to miss school.”
“Ah, yes,” dad nodded.
My parents didn’t know I was there to get away from Leighanne. When I’d called them, I’d told them I had a couple weeks while Nick was in Germany and wanted to spend some time with them. I hadn’t told them about the fights. I know they thought it was kind of weird that I’d come alone – they’d prepared for the three of us. I think, honestly, that they’d thought Leighanne was pregnant again and that’s why I was coming , to tell them face-to-face because I’d seen the look of disappointment on my mom’s face and a box of cigars on my dad’s desk.
At least they’d been prepared.
“You seen the Johnson girl lately?”
“Heather?” I asked.
Dad nodded, “Yeah, isn’t she going out with Nick?”
I nodded back, “Yeah. Actually, I met her at the airport. She’s home for a couple weeks, too.”
Dad glanced at me. “She’s here too? Fancy that!”
I smiled. “Yeah. She’s looking great,” I said, “California’s done her great. She needed a break from the pace, too, I guess. She’s been really busy. She’s been freelance-writing you know? That takes a lot of work, doing the research and stuff on the articles. But she’s really good at it. She’s been working on getting a novel she wrote published, but they’re being a little hard on her with it, I guess. Well, that and Nick’s—“ I had been about to say mishap on the plane then realized it was my dad I was talking to and I didn’t really want to describe the photographs of Lauren Kitt hanging out of the hole in the wall of the Berlin Air jet latrine. “—in Germany,” I finished lamely.
My dad nodded. “You know,” he said, “You just said more about the Johnson girl than you did when I asked how Leighanne was.”
Before I could respond, the backdoor slammed open and my mom came out onto the porch. “Dinner’s ready.” She smiled, “Mashed the carrots for ya and everything, Baby Duck,” she added.
I grinned, “Mmm,” I said, glad to be rescued from my dad’s awkward statement. “Can’t wait!” I jumped up and quickly followed my mom inside… acutely aware that my father was staring after me with a smirk on his face.
