See Her (Turn it Up #1)

Chapter 11

11

JACK

I have a girlfriend I haven’t even kissed. The idea makes me feel like I’m in middle school again, but in the best of ways. It’s something I plan to remedy at the first possible opportunity. I can’t seem to enjoy this blissful feeling fully, however, as it keeps getting interrupted by a cold, dark feeling of guilt that thrashes at my insides at random moments.

I told Mayzie to come see me at work again tomorrow night… instead of tonight when my band is playing.

Shortly after she left with Annie earlier, it came like a big pang that flashed through my whole body. I stood here and asked her to be only mine, but didn’t tell her to come see her man play tonight.

And I don’t even know why. All I know is it makes the immense feeling of gratification feel annoyingly skewed.

I should call or text her and make sure she knows, but I can’t seem to do it; something is holding me back. Something about her seeing my band play scares the shit out of me. A black tornado of anxiety, guilt, and confusion swirls tightly around me and amplifies in potency when Matt shows up towards the end of my shift to get started on set up.

He jerks his chin in greeting at me as I come over to give him a hand with the equipment. We get right to work with the heavy lifting of amps and speakers, and the strain on my muscles is a welcome distraction from the cold grip my nerves have on my chest. It’s not until we start getting things into position and plugged in that he starts to make conversation.

“When’s your friend coming to a show?” he asks me while we’re assembling the three main mic stands. I had told him about Mayzie the night before I took her out on the Harley, and his eyebrows understandably went up. When I told him she was something I wanted to keep to myself for a little while, he ceased with the questions like a good friend, and just keeps giving me laser–sharp, questioning glares instead.

“Soon,” I say, noncommittally. “And she’s actually… my girl now.” I deliver the information with –my lips pulled up at the corner, trying to cover the tension I’m feeling.

An amused breath slips out of Matt’s mouth as he straightens up to his full height. “So she’ll be here later,” he assumes, rather than asks.

“Well, no…” I trail off, trying to think of a way to explain I’m a cowardly idiot while trying to make it look like the amp settings are really complicated. “But she will. Soon,” I try to finish off casually, hoping he won’t notice my evasiveness.

There have been two other shows we’ve played since I met her, and now that we’re together… With how I feel about Mayzie, I should be jumping at the first chance to invite her out for one of our shows so she can see what it’s all about for me, and then she’ll really see me… all of me. It’s coming to that realization that makes me tense up.

Matt shakes his head at me, but goes back to what he’s doing, silently letting me know he’s letting this go for now but that he thinks I’m messed up in the head.For some reason, I feel like Mayzie seeing me play will be a make-or-break point for us. I don’t know why.

I try to tell myself that like kissing her for the first time, I want to make sure it’s nothing short of amazing. When I see her tomorr ow, I’m determined to kiss her in a way that will make her see no one but me in her future. The same thing goes for when we take things further than kissing.

I already know how great sex with Mayzie is going to be, just by the way I already feel about her.I know her touch is going to feel insane and will set me on fire. I’m willing to wait however long I have to wait for the moment to be just right so it rocks both our worlds.

And when I think of playing my songs in front of her, I want the same thing. I want her to love it, bask in it with me, and be proud of me. But is it even reasonable to expect something like that? For her to love my music so much that she’s my biggest fan?

Every show we’ve played I’ve just enjoyed expressing myself and feeling the music, and I couldn’t give two shits what anyone has thought of it, women included. And now here I am, having a nervous breakdown over what just one person will think of it.

As it gets closer to show time, I can’t take at least reaching out to her in some way; to feel her near. I pull my phone out of my back pocket to send her a text before Tyler announces for the bar crowd to welcome us.

That night as we play our show, I’m thankful my hands have enough muscle memory with all the songs that I sail right through them while my mind is a million miles away. I keep wondering what it would be like to look down and see Mayzie in the crowd; what her face would look like as she listened to the music. How she’d react to the way I am on stage. I can’t come up with anything, and that’s the wall I’m hitting.

Satisfied with this decision, I turn myself over to the music, giving it all I’ve got.

Mayzi e

“ Will you come back and see me tomorrow?” Jack had asked before I left The Cedar last night, and it made my insides bind together in ecstasy.

“I’m thinking about you and I will be all night,” his text had said later on in the evening, making it damn near impossible to fall asleep. It made me keep replaying the night before, only with a different ending that involved him staying in bed with me all night.

So why now, as I’m striding down the sidewalk towards The Cedar’s entrance, do I feel so apprehensive? I tell myself that I’m just nervous to come see Jack at work, even though he asked me to; that it’s just different returning here on my own. Things also feel a little off–kilter, being officially together but not having kissed yet.

That has to be it. This just doesn’t feel as real as I’d like it to. I need that first kiss.

I feel the corner of my mouth pull up in a self-deprecating smirk, feeling amused but slightly annoyed with myself as I approach the thick, wood door that leads into the bar. I stop just a few feet short to let two girls approaching from the other direction to go ahead of me.

“So he also bartends here?” The brunette in the short denim skirt waves a questioning hand at her redheaded friend.

My ears perk up at the word bartends , and my pace falters slightly, but I quickly brush it off, reminding myself there’s more than one bartender in this joint.

“Yeah,” Red responds, yanking the large door handle, clearly on a mission. “And I swear to God, he made sex eyes with me from on stage last night.”

Okay, that, I can’t let go so easily.

“I’m sorry,” I butt in, quickening my stride a couple of steps to catch up in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but was there a band playing last night?”

“Yeah,” Red guffaws, rolling her eyes dreamily skyward before letting them come back down to meet mine. “This local band, Turn it Up.”

My heart pounds hard against my chest wall as soon as the band’s name is out of her mouth.

“Sexiest rock music you’ve ever heard,” she goes on as I try to wrap my head around the fact that I was just here with Jack last night, and he didn’t tell me he had a show. “Have you seen them play before?” she asks, eyebrows lifted in question.

“Uh, no,” I stammer out, and the admission tastes bitter on my lips in this moment. I was giving Jack time to invite me into that part of his life and not just turn up at a show. But here he is now, declaring me his, and he doesn’t tell me he has a show that very night?

“And the lead singer?” Red continues. “He is every woman’s wet dream and he’s working here tonight, so we’re headed in to get our flirt on,” she informs me.

With that, she and her friend whip through the door, letting the heavy slab of wood close slowly behind them while I stand here on the sidewalk, trying to process everything I just heard.

My heart turns to cold concrete and feels like it’s dropping into my stomach as I try to figure out if I should be feeling this way. I feel my skin start to buzz, the feeling I get when anger starts to manifest, making me more frustrated. I don’t know if any of these feelings are even rational; there’s so much to process.

Less than twenty-four hours being together, I’m not Jack’s keeper, he doesn’t have to tell me when he’s playing, but… shouldn’t he?

I don’t know what to think right now. All I know is these nameless girls that are wearing belts for skirts have seen him play… and I haven’t.

Moving out of the way of other pedestrians, I prop a shoulder against the stone wall and pull out my phone, not even sure yet what I plan to do with it. I don’t know if I should call Annie, text her, text Jack …

I need time, by myself, to process this. I need music, a hardwood floor, and solitude.

Turning away from the bar entrance and back towards my car, I tap out a text to Jack.

Me: I’m not going to make it tonight after all. I’m sorry. Have a good night.

After walking the rest of the way to my car and sliding behind the wheel, my phone rings, displaying his name on the screen. I don’t know what makes me answer it, but I can’t seem to help myself as I swipe to accept the call.

“Hey.”

“Hey, everything alright?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” How the hell do I say this? “I just heard that your band played last night.” I wave my hand in explanation even though he can’t see me, and drop it in my lap.

The silent pause I’m met with can’t be a good sign.

“Yeah,” his voice finally comes down the line again, albeit quietly. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” I push, suddenly wanting to get to the bottom of this so I can stop feeling this way. “Do you not want me at your shows?”

“No, that’s not it at all.” is tone picks up pitch now.

“Well then, what is it?” I ask in a huff. “Because to have me standing right in front of you the same night you have a show and not tell me about it is not adding up to anything good, Jack.” I hear a domineering tone in my voice that surprisingly makes me feel a little proud of myself.

“I know,” he sighs heavily into the phone. “I know, you’re right, this doesn’t look good. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“It must be,” I respond, trying to sound completely unaffected, even though I’m inwardly seething, “to be able to tell a person you want to be in a relationship with them but leave out the ch ance for them to see you do what you love most...” I shake my head, just realizing from my own words why this hurts the way it does. Playing music is his passion… and he doesn’t want me to see. Or possibly…

“Did you not tell me so that you can appear available to your female fans?” I chance, feeling my chest twist and tighten at the thought of the two girls I encountered.

“Fuck no,” the conviction returns to his voice. “Don’t you ever think that! Put that out of your mind right now,” he commands in a way that only a tender boyfriend could, and it’s maddening.

“Well,” I chuckle lightly into the phone. “When you figure out a way to un–complicate it, let me know.” It’s a bad sign when my cynical, sarcastic side starts to step in. I need to go. “In the meantime, I want to be alone, and you need to get back to work.” I sign off, ending the call before adding out loud to myself, “And you have two thirsty fangirls waiting on you to serve them so they can throw their panties up on the bar!” I say under my breath, grinding my teeth as I toss my phone on the passenger seat and start the ignition.

After a drive home to change into my dance clothes, I dare a look at my phone as I walk into my house.

Jack: This isn’t over.