See Her (Turn it Up #1)

Chapter 5

5

JACK

“ I can’t let this girl go anywhere,” I voice out loud to my dad.

“You met her, what? A few days ago?” My dad gives an incredulous yet warm smile from his workbench, before picking up his beer to take a pull.

“That’s why I’m kind of messed up over it,” I explain, running a hand through my hair as I look up from his bike engine. “How can I lay claim to someone I just met? But then, how can I get to know her more without her getting snatched up by some other guy?”

“Listen to you,” he chuckles, fondly. “Twenty-eight, and yet I feel like we just got blasted back about thirteen years. You haven’t asked for romantic advice in a long time.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve cared enough,” I murmur as I go back to checking the fluids.

“Over someone you just met,” he reiterates.

“One conversation with her inspired me to write songs again,” I tell him.

“Wow.” He blows out a breath and looks around his shop. “Okay, that’s really something. Only trouble is, you know how things can go when you rush them.” He tilts his beer bottle at me and I pick up my own as if he cued me to.

“I know,” I nod, before taking a pull. Throughout this decade of my life, I’ve tended to just lead with what my body feels rather than what I think and feel emotionally, and while it’s good in the moment, it never lasts long.

“Fireworks are powerful and beautiful, but only for a few seconds before they burn out and it’s over,” he reminds me of his slow burn metaphor for the hundredth time in my life.

But I still want those fireworks. And I don’t want to burn so slowly that we burn out and miss out on them.

My dad must see me warring with myself as I stare at the concrete floor, trying to figure out how to hold onto Mayzie without giving it too much, too fast. He sighs, like he doesn’t know what to do with me.

“Do something special for her,” he advises me. “Something that will make you stand out from the rest, something that she’ll remember without having to have any strings attached. It will show her that you’re serious, and that you’re into her without having to call it anything just yet.”

“That’s a good point.” I nod lightly in agreement.

“Trust me, she’ll be thinking of you anytime she’s approached by any other gentleman callers .” He rolls his eyes at his own old fashioned adage as he rises to toss his beer bottle in the can with the other empties.

“I’ll just have to think of something,” I voice out loud as he makes his way to the side door.

“In the meantime, why don’t you take that Harley out and get those juices flowing?” He nods at his beloved motorcycle that he himself hasn’t touched in years.

“You got it.” I salute as he disappears out the door, and I look down at the beautiful bike that seems to speak to me in this moment. And now, I know what to do.

Mayzie

“I kind of want breakfast,” I say as we walk out of the dance studio with Annie after a couple of hours practicing the latest dance we’re choreographing.

“Well, if we hurry, we can do Maggie’s,” she says, locking her door.

While I live more on the edge of town, Annie lives closer to midtown, so her house is walking distance to some of the shops and restaurants. It’s 11:00, and Maggie’s serves breakfast until 11:30.We can easily be there in twenty minutes, but Annie power walks wherever she goes. It took a few years into our friendship, but now I can easily adapt to her speed.To anyone else, we probably look like we’re headed to take someone out. Oh well.

Annie is my best friend for a number of reasons.She came into my life when we were both in hell, I mean college.Only, it wasn’t so bad for her.She exuded the confidence of someone who loved who she was and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought.We met in the dance troupe when we were placed next to each other for a lyrical number.We joked, laughed at ourselves when we messed up, and talked a little between run-throughs.Afterwards, she insisted we grab fatty milkshakes and hang out in her dorm, where we learned everything about each other.She knew her worth, and anyone who didn’t was a waste of her time.I, on the other hand, allowed myself to be at the mercy of anyone that showed me any hint of wanting to be around me, just trying to scrape up any shreds of validation which led to bad decisions, and being screwed over constantly.

She was having none of that, and it was the first time I’d spent time around someone who wanted to be around me without me feeling like I had to adapt to their personality .

And from there, she steered me away from situations when she saw me leaning towards doing something stupid or spending time with someone that would leave me feeling like shit.She truly changed the way I saw myself, and thus the trajectory of my happiness. To this day, I still harbor some self-consciousness, and that will never go away, but it no longer rules me.

Annie kept going to school for a year after I left, and then decided she wanted to follow her passion for photography and transferred to the downtown university. She’s started her own photography business that isn’t quite lucrative yet, but it helps supplement her in the meantime.She does families, weddings, and kids right now, but she hopes one day to be renowned;to be sought after by magazines and to travel the world.I daydream that by then I’ll be a writer doing the same, and we can do it together.We’re not co-dependent, I just struggle with the idea of not having her around.

As usual, I enjoy our banter as we speed walk down side streets, joking and shoving each other until we turn down the street that leads to the busier part of this area.It’s Saturday morning and people are out, shopping, walking their dogs, running errands, or getting a bite to eat.We maneuver our way through the flood of people and duck into Maggie’s.There is a ten minute wait, making my prospect of getting breakfast questionable.

“Dammit!” I say, and then look up at the hostess. “Sorry,” I say, holding my hand up in apology.

“Forgive my girl here,” Annie says. “She’s fiending for some French toast.” Annie knows I’m the hangry type, and when I’m craving something particular, I’m like a dog with a bone.

“Let me see what I can do,” the hostess says, laughing with her.Annie can make friends with anyone.She’s just a naturally social creature, making her so likable that we benefit from it sometimes.After six minutes, we’re seated and I plead with our server – with my hands clasped together no less – for some French toast and scrambled eggs, while Annie orders a club sandwich.

"What have you got planned for the rest of the weekend?" she asks, dumping a glob of ketchup on her plate for her fries.

"I don't know,” I say, shredding the hell out of my French toast. "I’ll probably go to my parents in the morning. I haven't gone over there in a couple weeks;it’s been even longer for Ian though. They should probably be graced with at least one child's presence once in a while."

"Ian still drowning in quicksand?"

"Yeah, although I don't think Tina is as bad as he makes her sound." I drizzle syrup over both the toast and eggs as Annie shakes her head at me. I tilt my head and shrug, like everybody does that and she's the one with the problem, before continuing. "She just wants it to be loving and exciting like it was before they moved in together, and he seems to think that once he dropped his bags in her apartment, he was off the hook in the effort department.She's driving him nuts wanting attention, but if he'd just show her a little..." I shrug as I trail off.I stab a banana slice, piece of eggs, and toast, all together on my fork and cram it in my mouth.

“So… who’s on the roster for this weekend?” she asks casually, and I gulp an eclectic bite of breakfast.

“What do you mean?”

“Who are you turning down or blowing off on the app this time?” she specifies, popping a fry in her mouth.

Should I tell her I deleted the app after meeting Jack?

Bold move, I know, but seriously, it was a total bust anyway. Besides, even if this goes nowhere, I have proof that there are better guys in a coffee shop than in cyberspace.

“Nobody,” I mumble into my coffee.

“Are we happy or depressed about that?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I busy myself with another bite of my delectable breakfast, debating on whether I want to say anything yet or not .

I don’t like to keep things from Annie, and yet I’m finding myself feeling a little superstitious. Like the minute I share Jack with someone, the whole prospect will blink out of existence.

Deciding to hold this close to my chest for a little while until I know what’s happening is real, I finally answer, “Happy.”