Текст книги "Memphis Black"

Автор книги: M. J. Fields

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

How am I going to be better than my dad and get Tally to understand?

Fuck, she better not have used me. Would Tally do that shit? Why the fuck would I question it, she’s not here now. She didn’t even say goodbye for fuck sake.

“I need a pill.” I need the shit in my head to go away.

“You need to eat something first,” my mother scolds.

“Right. Fine. And when is my doctor’s appointment? ’Cause I also need to get back to work. I have a tour to prepare for.”

A week after I returned was the first time I heard from Memphis. He told me he was on his way home, and we needed to chat. I told him we didn’t, and he needed to shine. I threw my phone away the next day and got a new one. No, I couldn’t afford it, but it wasn’t an indulgence, either; it was a necessity.

Necessities should also be categorized. Although I needed new ballet slippers because mine were so terribly worn that my feet ached, I needed a thirty dollar pre-pay more. The soul’s health was much more important than the feet’s. Feet don’t take as long to heal.

A week after his first call, he showed up at the old apartment. He was angry, so angry at me, and I tried so hard to make him understand that I left for him. I wanted him to focus on his career, but he didn’t buy it and demanded an explanation. When I wouldn’t give him that, he wanted, he took something else—my lips.

I have decided lips are even more intimate than a vagina. His kiss was impossible to pull away from, so I didn’t. He did, and then he told me when I came to my eff’ing senses to call him, because he hadn’t changed his fucking number.

I smiled and hugged him. “Soar, Memphis,” I whispered, then turned and walked into the apartment, leaving him in the hall.

He banged on the door for a good ten minutes, and I fell to my knees and cried.

Crying is soul cleansing. Well, ugly crying like I did is soul and sinus cleansing, though not something anyone should ever do in front of another human being they love or want to return your love.

A week later, he called my new number from Madison’s phone.

“Tell me what the fuck I did. You owe me that much.”

My response: “I owe you even more than I can ever give you, Memphis. Forget about me. Move on knowing I will always have a little girl crush on the boy next door. Soar, Memphis.”

Apparently, that made him angry. He tried to call back several times, and he left messages, a lot of them. Each one made me cry, each breaking my spirit, and each making me realize that Karma really is a bitch.

A day later, I am walking around the corner to my apartment, and he is leaning against the brick wall.

I force sunshine. I smile. I dig down deep and do what I was raised to do: be polite, be kind, and be a good girl.

“My hand is healing.” He pushes off the wall. “I can use it now.”

“I knew it would. That’s a God-given talent you have.” I smile, though the threat of tears is burning my chest and moving up my throat.

“You aren’t talking to Madison anymore, either?” he says, as his eyes rake my body from head to toe.

I swallow down my tears and give him more sunshine. “Just been busy.”

He looks in my eyes. “What the hell happened? For the life of me, I can’t figure it out. Did you not come to my bed, strip naked, and fucking climb me, basically begging for my cock? Tell me, what the fuck did I do?” He beats his left hand against his chest, and I see the pain it causes him. He yells again, “Tell me, goddamn you!”

He draws his fist back as if he’s going to strike the brick wall, and I yell, “No!” Then I grab it and cry.

“Tales, come the fuck on. Talk to me.”

I strangle the sob and shake my head, releasing his hand. That’s when he grabs my face and pulls it to his.

“Talk. To. Me.”

When I close my eyes, he grabs me by the ass and lifts me, walking us to the door of my apartment building. “Your mom home?”

“No.”

“Apartment number?”

“No.”

“Fine, then right here.” He pushes me back against the wall under the stairwell, pulls a condom out of his pocket, and tears it open with his teeth. “You fucked anyone else?”

“No,” I cry. “No, I haven’t.”

“You gonna tell me no?” he asks as he unzips his jeans and sheaths himself. “Tales, say the word no, or I am gonna give you something I know you want. I can fucking smell your desire. I can see it lighting up in Emerald City. You know who the fuck I am?”

“Memphis,” I answer as my head drops to his shoulder while he rips my panties and pushes, not one, but two fingers inside me.

I cry out as his fingers move and twist swiftly in and out, feeling the burn immediately.

“No. I’m the fucking Wizard of Oz, Tales.” He rubs himself against my wet flesh, then pushes in. “The wizard controls Emerald City, you feel me?”

When he shoves inside of me again, I immediately feel an orgasm’s tug.

“God, yes.” I bite his shoulder as he rams himself in and out of me over and over as I tremble, shake, and contract everywhere.

He doesn’t stop; he fucks me hard and unforgiving as he sucks on my neck and bites it harder than ever before.

“You.” He rams into me again. “Don’t.” And again. “Get.” And again. “Two.” And again. “Hours.” And again. “Of my cock.” And Again. “Until I know.” And Again. “Why you’re doing this!” He growls right before he comes apart.

His dick twitches inside of me as he comes. I feel each burst, absorb each thrust, take it because I want him so badly.

As he sets me on my feet and leans in, I am shaking and breathless.

I lean up to kiss him, but he pulls back.

“You don’t get my mouth again, Tales. Yours is for either sucking my cock or answering my questions.” He pulls the condom off, takes my hand, and drops the used rubber into it. “Get on the damn pill. I’m sick of using these fucking things.” He pushes his thick, semi erect dick inside his black jeans and walks away.

On shaking, post orgasm legs, still quaking inside, I walk down the hall and toss the used condom in the trash, walk up three flights of stairs, trip into my apartment, and then fall onto my bed and cry myself to sleep.

***

A month later, I walk out of the dance studio and onto Broadway. If I hurry, I’ll catch the early train back to Hoboken and get home to soak my feet.

I am exhausted. Since my return a month ago, I picked up two classes a day at Classic’s Dance Studio. Six days a week before and after, I dance with my tour crew, and we practice anywhere from five to seven hours, five, sometimes six, days a week.

Mom and I have a two bedroom that I love. She was against it at first, because it was more than her social security check from dad’s death every month, and she felt it was indulgent. I told her a moderate indulgence was acceptable.

Everything should be in moderation, even indulgences. Anything else is either gluttonous and will fill you until you burst or starves the soul and kills you. That’s my new way of looking at life and also the only reason I can still look in the mirror.

When I round the corner, I see Madison. She looks like she wants to smile, like she’s ready to burst. Her long, straight, black hair is piled high on her head, and her eyes are covered with some ultra-chic sunglasses that are too big for her face but look amazing, regardless.

I stop in front of her and give her sunshine, and then I give her rain.

She reaches out and pulls me tight. “I am so mad at you right now, Tales. You’re breaking his heart.”

“I just can’t be with him. I just want him to do his thing and become who he is meant to be.”

“And what about you?” She looks around. “Is this who you are meant to be? Where you are meant to end up? Fuck, Tales, from Julliard to …”

“Broadway.” I shrug. “I really like teaching. I’m content.” I wipe the tears from my face. “What about you?”

“I’m not ready to go back to school. I think I’m going to take a year off, maybe do some online stuff. I just want to be with my mom right now. You know how it is.” She points to the building. “You like it here?”

I nod because, if I tell her in words, it’ll feel more like a lie than it is.

“Tales.” She looks dead serious. “You have to talk to him. He’s doing some really fucked up things lately.” She laughs nervously.

“Like …?” She shakes her head. “Not drugs, right? He’s not—” I can’t even ask if he’s addicted.

“Well, he really likes his pain pills, and he actually fell asleep during recording last month.”

“When last month?” I wonder if it was before or after our encounter.

She smirks and shakes her head. “The stairwell day.” I gasp. “Tales, he isn’t really quiet about the way he feels. He’s also adamant that he’s gonna wait you out.”

“Wait me out?” He hasn’t let go. Immediately, I feel happy, but I shouldn’t. And, oh, my, goodness, he told her!

She looks at me, not answering. After a few minutes, she sighs.

“Look, come have dinner with me.”

“My mom …” I start.

“Don’t give me that shit. It’s Wednesday; she’s at a woman’s church thing, isn’t she?”

“Madison, it really is best if we just—”

“I know, okay? I fucking know, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, and—”

“What do you know?”

“About your dad. About my dad. It wasn’t a woman in his bed at that hotel, Tales. I didn’t see his face, but fuck … Do I even need to keep going? I mean, it’s really not something a girl wants to remember.”

“You knew, and you didn’t tell me!” I yell at her. She looks stunned.

“You didn’t tell me, either. It’s really not a fucking conversation you ever expect to have with anyone, let alone your best friend whose father is a fucking minister and apparently a bottom—” I cover her mouth with my hand and scowl.

“Shut your face,” I hiss at her.

She starts laughing and hugs me. “Oh, Tales. To think, we could have been step—”

“You really have to be quiet. Imagine the scandal. Imagine what they would say about Memphis.”

“Oh, my God, that’s why you won’t admit you’re in love with him. That’s why you’re pushing him away. Tales, that’s so gallant of you, but you’re the chick. Let the one with the dick figure that out.”

It feels good that someone else knows, but it shouldn’t. It should feel good that it is Mads and not a random stranger, but it doesn’t. It feels awful that Memphis might have to face this, but if I open my mouth he will…He will hate me.

“Does your mom know?”

“Not sure. You’re the only person I’ve talked to. Does yours?”

“No, absolutely not. I think she would die.”

“Or join a cult,” Mads says, smiling sadly.

“Or that.” I smile back in the exact same way.

“Come to dinner with me?”

I nod. “I would really, really like that.”

“Me, too. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”  I just didn’t think I should be allowed to feel that way after keeping the secret from her, but she did the same. What a mess. What a complete and total mess.

“I’ve missed you more than my brother has.”

“I’ve heard from him more,” I joke

“I don’t swing that way, so back off.” She laughs as she jumps in her little, red Beemer.

I get in the other side and close the door. “New ride?”

“Father is feeling guilty.”

“Well, guilt looks good on him,” I attempt to joke.

“Your father didn’t,” she throws back at me, and I fall into a laughing fit. Both of us do. “Hashtag: white girl problems.”

“Oh, wow, we’re like the Kardashians.”

“Oh, fuck no, we aren’t! Hell to the no. But Brody Jenner … Damn, I would like to cry on that shoulder. You know, bond over a little dysfunction and then get all dysfunctional in his sound booth. He could spin a record. I could spin on him.”

“You gotta keep it a secret for Memphis.” I state the obvious.

“You love him, Tales.” And so does she.

“I think I do.”  That’s another lie. I know I do. Without a doubt, I know I do.

“It wasn’t a question. You love him, Tales.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to.”

“Why?”

I look at her and roll my eyes. “Why would you even ask that?” He’s going to hate me when he finds out, I say to myself.

“Because he loves you, too.”

“Did he say that?”

She looks over at me. “No, I did, and no one knows him like I do.”

I nod and she hugs me.

I sit in the sound booth at Forever Four in a fog, wondering what the fuck happened to me. Soar, Memphis, runs through my mind like a fucking freight train. How does one do that?

“You sound good, Memphis.” X-man walks in and sits behind me. “‘Bang Bang’ is a fucking epic jam. It’s your first chart topper.”

“We’ll see,” I say with a nod. “We all set here for the day?”

“You’re kidding, right? You have two more songs to get nailed down.” He shakes his head. “Let me give you some advice …”

“Not being rude, man, but I don’t fucking need any. I’ve got this.”

“Really? What is it that you’ve got? No, don’t answer that. Let me tell you what you’ve got.” He stands up and leans against the wall. “You have one of the best voices in the industry, yet that guitar is more important to you. Your raw sex appeal that makes the girls fucking crazy, second best in the industry—”

“Second to who?” I half-laugh, half-snarl.

“Me,” he says as if it’s gospel.

I can’t help laughing, and so does he.

“You lead this crew from the front. You don’t get pissed when River gets fucked up like Finn does; you don’t get pissed when Finn doesn’t talk for days because he is so deep in his head. He is a total D-bag to everyone around, like River and Billy are. And you don’t get pissed when Billy spouts off all the knowledge in his fucking enormous head and makes everyone around him feel fucking stupid, including me.” He chuckles, shaking his head. ”You are the lead here; don’t get hung up on a set of strings.”

“Not gonna feel natural on stage without it.”

“Believe it or not, I didn’t snatch you up because of your ability to finger fuck the six strings. It’s the voice and your natural leadership ability.”

“And because your wife—”

He glares at me. “My wife what?”

“She found me at Rockin’ Joes.”

“She knows talent.” He grabs his package. “And she is mine forever.”

I nod. “Forever Steel.”

“You’re part of that, too, man, although you put your own twist on it.” He tries to look pissed, but I know the name amuses the shit out of him. “You’re family now, and that means, if you need a kick in the ass, you’ll get it.”

“That mean I can get the ink, too?”

He laughs and nods. “You want the ink?”

“Every one of my tats means something to me. And with each one—”

“You gained some sort of clarity or a moment of self-realization.”

I nod. “Exactly.”

He muses for a minute before nodding. “I could use some fresh ink, maybe a piercing to surprise my Irish.” He looks at his watch. “Fuck it, let’s blow off and head down to Forever Steel.”

We walk out to where Taelyn is holding their son.

“I’m gonna go with Memphis down to Forever Steel. He’s gonna get some ink.”

“And you?” She smiles at him.

“I’ll surprise you.”

She laughs and nods. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Prepare yourself, Irish,” I hear him whisper as he bends down and kisses her, then kisses the baby.

“Will do.” She blushes. Fucking blushes, just like Tallia Annabelle Priest.

I can’t believe I’ve left her alone for so damn long. Fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t gotten laid in that long.

But I can’t. I’m now like that little chick with the golden hair; except, I’m not sampling porridge. I don’t need to know which one is just right. I already fucking found it.

“You ready, man?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

When we walk into the shop, I look around. The storefront tells a story of Xavier’s family. The outside doesn’t match the inside, not one bit.

The white walls display thin, black, framed works of art that are lit with track lighting. They are not pictures of tattoos, but art. One wall is full of black and white photos of people and places. It’s unbelievable how the artist caught stolen glances, private moments, and older buildings that no doubt tell stories of history and life.

The next wall holds paintings that pretty much sing. Each showcases an instrument or a stage. I notice X-man wearing a fedora and playing a saxophone in one.

“That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, seems like a lifetime ago.” He pats my back. “Let me get Rico.”

I look at another wall. There are white, lighted pedestals lined up against it, all holding sculptures. Nothing whimsical or cute. Whoever did this was in a dark place. I look at the dates. It’s the same year as hurricane Sandy hit the shore. I wonder if this twisted steel is from the havoc that bitch wreaked.

There are more pictures on another wall—photos and paintings—and I recognize all the people in them. Cyrus, Tara, and their two kids; Justice, Truth, and at their feet is the ugliest dog I have ever seen; Jase, Carly, and their girls, little Bell and Kiki; Zandor and Bekah, and she is on her knees next to him; Xavier, Taelyn, and baby Patrick in front of the Red Socks stadium, him and the baby sporting Yankee’s gear, but she isn’t. Next there is Abe and Nikki; someone who looks familiar; a woman in a vineyard; and Sabato, whom I have seen around Forever Four a handful of times; and the girl, Mel, who looks at him like he’s a god. The shit kicker is he’s looking at her like that in this picture, too. Then there is Momma Joe, surrounded by all of them.

“Right there is Forever Steel, man,” Xavier says from behind me.

“Who’s this?” I ask, pointing to the vineyard picture.

“My cousin Dominic and his wife, right before she started showing.”

“Showing what?”

“The kid growing inside of her.” He laughs. “Come on, man; he’s ready for you.”

When I walk into the back room, Rico stands up. “You sure about this?” he jokes.

“I’m sure.” I pull my shirt off and lie down.

“The pain is only temporary,” Xavier says, patting my shoulder.

“But the commitment is forever, man.” Rico winks. “You sure you want to commit to this?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Just like the brothers?”

“No,” I answer. “I’m gonna rock it my way.”

“I knew you would, man.” Xavier laughs. “See you on the other side.”

Xavier leaves as I roll to my stomach. “Across my shoulders. Forever faded, grey in the background. Steel bold and black.”

“Bold and black is pretty damn close to heaven, man. Throw in some curves, and I am on it like white on rice.” Rico smirks.

“We ain’t just talking ink, are we?” I laugh.

“No, man, we ain’t.”

I lie down and feel the sting of the needle. I don’t go to the place in my head I’ve gone to before. No hiding from the pain. I feel it. I want to feel every damn inch of it. I embrace the pain, relish in it. I accept it, and I appreciate it.

“I want an emerald centered below it, tinted green. Light enough so that, when I want to add to it, the addition won’t get lost.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you want, man.”

“I may want something else, too.”

“I get paid by the piece, and I got all night.”

I walk out of Forever Steel with Xavier laughing.

“You didn’t just drink the Kool–Aid, man; you fucking did a keg stand on that bitch.”

“Thanks for bringing me. I needed that.” I nod.

“We all do once in a while.” I look down at his arms covered in ink. “Some of us more than others.”

“Yeah, true, true.”

My phone rings and his immediately follows.

“The wife.” He holds up the phone.

I hold up mine. “The queen.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be in early,” I tell him as I walk away.

“Sup, Mads?” I answer my phone. She wants to see me. “Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty.”

***

I pull onto River Street and throw the keys to my new ride to the valet. Dad bought Mads a little, red Beemer, and she kept it. He bought me one, too, and I traded it in for an Escalade. It’s identical to the one I drove in Miami where I purposely fucked with Tales because making her squirm was second best to fucking her raw. Now I know better. There isn’t a second best to her, and no matter what the fuck is going on, I won’t try to find out if there is for a long time.

“Keep it close. I won’t be long.”

I walk in and bee line it for the hotel bar, but as soon as I walk in, I see her sitting there, and she sees me, too. This is no surprise to her, though; it’s not me waiting for an hour outside her apartment so I can remind her I’m still fucking breathing. This is her knocking the wind out of me, so I can’t.

Madison turns and gives me a sad smile, and I shake my head as I walk up to her. I kiss her on the head, turning my back to Tales.

“Where’s the car?”

“In the parking garage.”

“No flat, huh?”

“No.”

“So you lied to me to get me here.” She shrugs. “Don’t you think you should have given me a fucking heads up, Mads? Fuck.”

She nods toward Tallia. “You gonna say hi to her?”

I turn and do my best to act unaffected as I give her a nod. “Tales.”

“Hi,” she whispers, her lower lip popping out a bit.

I look away before I can’t. “So why am I here?” I ask Madison.

“Geesh, you don’t have to be a fucking assh—”

“Madison, don’t,” Tally says sadly.

I look back at her.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of not in a place to talk right now.” I stare right at her pouty, little lips, remembering the last thing I said to her about them. I think of her dad, hoping it keeps the impending erection at bay.

“I need to tell you something,” she says, looking down at her hands. She’s wringing the hell out of them, and quite frankly, I’m nervous.

“You pregnant?”

She smiles and shakes her head. She then lets out a cute as hell, nervous, little chuckle and looks up at me.

Emerald City has a storm brewing, and it ain’t just a sprinkle.

I pull a barstool up and sit.

“First, promise me you won’t hate me. Even if you do, tell me you don’t so I don’t have to live my life thinking any worse of myself than I already do,” she says as the first tear falls.

“Keep talking, Tales, because right now, I’m ready to rip his fucking head off.”

“Memphis, you asshole, she isn’t fucking anyone.”

I don’t look at Madison. Quite frankly, I wish she would walk away and leave me alone with Tales. Whatever she says to push me away is gonna hurt, and I don’t need the little queen to see that shit.

“Tales, she need to be here?” She nods. “Okay, so you need her for moral support? Just spill it, would ya?”

“I caught Dad in bed with someone when he visited me in Chicago.”

“Right, our dad’s a low life cheat. I get it.”

“I caught my dad kissing someone right before I left for Julliard,” Tales whispers.

“Seriously? Your dad was fucking around, too? Tales, if that’s what this is about … if you’re worried all men are fucking scum, I can promise you—”

“It was your father,” she whispers.

“The person I caught Dad with in Chicago was Tally’s father.”

I feel like I have just been punched in the gut. Like the blonde kid in the movie with the green lighted sword—Luke, that’s his name—when he found out that fucked up black, robot-looking, evil thing was his father. Yeah, I know how the poor son-of-a-bitch felt.

“This is a joke, right?” It has to be. “This is a prank. This is—” I stop when Tales grabs my hand and shakes her head.

“I am sorry for what I did by not telling you.”

I pull my hand back and stare at her. She’s not fucking around.

I look at Mads. “You caught them playing hide the fucking salami?”

Tales giggles, and I whip my head around to glare at her.

“Sorry, it’s just—” Then the storm hits. “I should have told her. I should have told you.”

“But you didn’t, because you wanted the fucking fantasy, just like every other fucking chick I’ve fucked.” I stand up and throw a hundred on the bar. “I’m out.”

I leave, feeling sick to my stomach, pissed off, I wanna destroy something! Then I feel a tug on my hand. Just by a touch, I know it’s her.

“Don’t walk away from me until I have given you the entire truth. If you’re going to hate me, you’re going to do it forever, but don’t you walk—”

I turn, tug her arm, and then walk as quickly as I can to the entrance. People are starting to look, and I don’t need that shit. Don’t want it either. I wanna be left alone to process this, this fucking mess.

Outside, I give the valet my ticket.

“Give me just a minute, sir,” he tells me.

“No, he’s staying for dinner with his sister. Call me a cab.”

My fucking jaw drops at her audacity.

“You think you get to tell me what to do, Tales?”

She shakes her head vigorously. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I am to you. I do know she’s your sister, and she always will be, and …” She stops and grabs my hand. “Two minutes, that’s all.”

When she pulls hard at my hand, I decide to hear her out, just hear what she has to say. I want to know the “more” she thinks will make me hate her.

Once we’re around the building and in the alley, she turns and looks at me. “After I saw them”—my stomach turns—“I kind of got angry and, I guess, confused, too, just like you right now. I … I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say this. I mean, so what, right?” She drops my hand and throws hers in the air. “God, I am so selfish. I—”

Nope, I can’t do this right now. “I need to leave.”

“No! No, you don’t.” There is panic in her voice, and she is fisting her hair in her hands.

I hold back from comforting her because I don’t know how to process all of this.

“Mads … Mads knew and didn’t tell, because she was so afraid you’d lose focus on tour. She was afraid your mother would fall apart, but Memphis, she fell apart. Mads fell apart, and she is still falling.” She slaps her hands on her thighs and starts pacing back and forth. “None of this is fair, and she needs you, and you’re gonna need her, too.”

She spins on her heels and looks at me. “And you starting a tour … I mean, all press is supposed to be good press, but can you handle it, or will you have to prove your sexuality for all of the country?” She squeezes her eyes closed. “Not that it’s any of my business, but please don’t do that to yourself.”

She takes in a deep breath. “I didn’t know who to talk to. I couldn’t talk to Mads, and I sure as hell couldn’t talk to my mom, still can’t. So I just shoved it down deep and let it soak. And, well”—she covers her face—“I got mad that I would never be able to think or even hope that maybe someday you would kiss me again for real and not just because you were drunk. I fantasized about that kiss for years, Memphis, and it just wasn’t fair. God, I must sound so stupid to you.” She resumes her pacing. “So I slept with Jones.”

Hearing her say the name of some guy she banged pisses me off.

“I slept with him because I knew, at seven ten p.m. on Sunday night, my father would call.”

I have no idea what the fuck that has to do with anything. I look at her as she peers up at me, Emerald City hidden behind a curtain of dark brown locks.

“I told Jones to answer my phone, and he did, and then … Well, then my father flipped, and I didn’t deny what a sinner I was, because I didn’t care. I didn’t care, because everything he said to me was a lie. And then do you know what happened, Memphis?”

God, the need to comfort her is overwhelming. “I think so, Tales.”

“He died. He died a week later of a heart attack because of me.”

“He didn’t die because of you.”

“Did so.” She starts pacing again. “So I’m a terrible person. Even worse, because then I agreed to a vacation, knowing damn well you’d be there, and I basically prayed you and I would … you know.”

I needed a better fucking explanation to what she was talking about. Was it was revenge, was it the fucking fantasy? “Because I’m getting famous. Because I’m a bunch of chicks’ fantasy, because—”

“Because you’ve been mine since the day you pushed Johnny Stone down when he was picking on me, then just kept walking. Because you always did things like that. You were merciless at times, but I always made myself think it was because maybe, just maybe, I was your fantasy, too. I know how stupid that sounds, but you were nice to me. You didn’t judge me; you stuck up for me. When everyone else picked on my clothes, you complimented them. You watched cartoons with me and Madison. You still call my T-shirts vintage and make them seem cool, but they are not, Memphis. They’re hand-me-downs or thrift store finds. Did you know that the only clothes I have ever worn that were new are my underwear?”

I shake my head no in answer.

“In my very lonely childhood, you were ever-present. You were my fantasy first, so yes, yes, I knew. Hell, I even pretended I didn’t know you were going to be there so Madison didn’t see through me, because she has a tendency to do that, you know.”

I nod.

“But when you came out with those two girls, all I could think about was my mother and how disappointed she would be in me, and I don’t like to disappoint people; did you know that? Did you know that, Memphis?”

“Yeah, Tales, I knew that.” Even as a kid, being the better dancer between her and Mads, she stepped aside and let Mads play lead in every little backyard production they ever gave my mom. Same thing with her parents, Tally toed the line. She was the perfect kid.

“Then I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t, because my fantasy—the Memphis who was always my knight in black leather and ink—said things to me that, even though I didn’t know I wanted to hear them, affected me.”

“Tales—”

“Please don’t say anything. Just kiss me or push me against a wall or let me go down on my knees for you again, because I don’t wanna think. I want to feel.” She steps forward and grabs my shirt. I see her mustering up courage before she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and leans in.

“Can’t kiss you, Tales.” I step back regretfully.

“Then let me kiss you,” her eyes and voice plead in unison.

“No, I can’t allow that, either.”  Someday I will laugh at this, but not now.

She nods. “I understand. I do. I understand. I mean …” She turns her back to me, and I hate it. I want to see her eyes.

I grab her hand. “Look at me, Tales.”

“I don’t need you to make this okay for me. I just need you to be okay and accept my apology. I need you to soar.”

“Turn the fuck around,” I growl. “I won’t soar alone, and I sure as fuck can’t do it with you right this minute.”

She does, very slowly, asking with a whisper, “Can you forgive me?”

“Tell me what you want from me.”

“To forgive me.”

“Done, but I need time to process it all. What else?”

She shakes her head, her face flushed red.

“Need time for that, too.”

“I understand. Be happy, okay? Be happy and be safe.”

“Tell me, Tales.” I see it in her face, I just need to hear it and I really need her to say it.

“I did.”

“Fuck that. Tell me the truth about us, Tales. At the very least, tell me the truth about what you want from me.”