The Girl in the Yellow Dress

Chapter 23: Delete

2010-02-01T06:49:00.001-08:00

by Landee

Kris didn’t know how long they had been sitting on Adam’s couch. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness with the warmth of MJ’s body beside him and the feel of her hand in his. It would have almost been heavenly had it not been for his throbbing right eye, the tenderness of the back of his head and the most painful way MJ would squeeze his hand each time to get him to wake up again. He didn’t think the force with which she would squeeze was entirely necessary but he wasn’t about to say anything. He figured he deserved any punishment given to him right now.

Judging from the light outside Kris figured it was about 5 o’clock now. So maybe they had been sitting here for 2 hours or so? Tori had left a while ago but Kris hadn’t heard where she was going. Jimmy had gotten up and left not long after without a word. AV had been in and out, checking his pupils with a flashlight and refreshing his ice baggies.

He had barely moved a muscle in those two hours and, now that he was starting to think a little more clearly, he realized neither had MJ. She hadn’t uttered a single word since she sat down but she hadn’t insisted anyone else come and keep him awake either. Kris decided to take this as a sign that maybe all was not lost after all.

Kris slightly turned his head toward MJ so he could see her with his good eye. His vision was still a bit blurry but he could see that she sat with her head leaning back against the couch staring up at the ceiling, her feet tucked up under her legs. This caused her to lean on him slightly. If a stranger had walked into the room right then he would have figured Kris and MJ were a happy couple snuggling on the couch and enjoying each other’s company.

“I’m feeling a little better now,” Kris said, his voice raspy from not speaking for a few hours. MJ glanced over at him quickly and then looked back at the ceiling, her face unchanging, her hand remaining in his.

“What time is it?” he asked, hoping this would get her to speak to him.

MJ got out her phone, pushed the home button so the time would show up and held it in front of his face.

5:47pm.

“Thanks,” Kris muttered.

He adjusted his weight a little to prepare to stand up but the moment he moved a wave of nausea hit him. He took a few deep breaths to keep from vomiting and closed his eye. When he opened it again he could see MJ staring directly at him. He turned his head just in time to see concern on her face. The look of concern was gone instantly and the emotionally void expression returned. Kris sat back into the couch.

“Ok, I’ve just done some intense research on the internet,” AV said, rushing into the room. “It turns out this Shemily person doesn’t know anything! I mean, really, the sister of a doctor? What kind of credentials are those? So what, you shared a bathroom with a future doctor growing up so now you’re qualified to spout off medical advice? No. And that whole ‘keep the person awake all night’ thing is a myth, by the way. After looking at several medical websites I’m thinking we need to get you to a hospital.”

“No, I’m totally fine!” Kris said in the most upbeat voice he could muster. He didn’t want it to be obvious that he was fighting off a wave of nausea at this very moment. If there was one thing Kris hated more than donating his precious universal blood, it was doctors and even more than doctors, hospitals. He hadn’t been to a doctor since his last visit with a pediatrician when he was thirteen. And hospitals? Man, those places gave him the creeps. The smells, the tubes, the lighting… all repulsive. Kris shuddered just thinking about it.

“How many times have you thrown up?” AV asked. “Tori said you vomited once at Café Rio and then twice more on the way home.”

“Well, the one at Café Rio, yes, but the other two were because of Tori’s driving,” Kris said. “She’s a terrible driver….really, really terrible.”

AV looked skeptical. “And are you still feeling nauseous at all?”

“He looked like he was about to throw up just a second ago,” MJ offered up before Kris could lie and say no. He might have been angry with her for making him that much closer to having to go to a hospital but he was so happy to hear her voice actually acknowledging his existence that he forgot the anger and relished in it. His split second hesitation caused AV to switch into high gear.

“Oh dear, ok, that’s it. Here we go….stand up Kris, honey,” she said, putting his arm around her neck in an effort to lift him off the couch. MJ got under his other arm and together they became his crutches. “We are getting you to the hospital right now. No ifs, ands, or buts, mister.”

The sudden movement of standing up was more than Kris could bear and he threw up on Adam’s family room carpet. Luckily his stomach had been almost completely empty but still. Embarrassing.

“Don’t worry about that,” AV said. “I’ll get that. You just concentrate on getting out to the car. Ok. Let’s go. Come on.” AV encouraged and soothed Kris every step until they reached the car. MJ held him up, keeping one arm around his waist in the back and one hand on his abs, but said nothing.

She smells good, Kris thought, just before losing consciousness.

When Kris awoke he was laying on his side on an uncomfortable bed. The buzz of a fluorescent light was buzzing in his ear and the single sheet which covered him was extremely scratchy. He went to rub his eyes and let out a yell. Touching his right eye sent a shooting pain through his entire body.

“What the?” Kris mumbled as he tried to sit up.

“Now, now, just lay back down,” someone said to Kris gently as they pushed down on his shoulder. He recognized the voice as AV’s but couldn’t see her. He rolled over onto his back and saw her standing next to the bed. He looked beyond her and saw MJ sitting in a chair, peering at him over the top of a magazine.

“Hey!” he said, grinning. He was so happy to see her there. Wait, see her where? “Where am I?” Kris asked.

“Scripps Mercy Hospital, sweetie,” AV said. “You blacked out and we brought you here immediately. You’ve been out for about 30 minutes. They had to come and get you out of the minivan with a gurney.”

“Blacked out? What? Why?” Kris was thoroughly confused. At a hospital? Oh no. The last thing he remembers is being in the bathroom at Café Rio. He thought for a minute. Yes. Tori wanted him to do something crazy…he couldn’t really remember what right now. He had then gone in the bathroom and sent a text to…MJ? He couldn’t exactly remember that either. And now he was here in a creepy hospital. It was as if an entire paragraph of his Word document day had been highlighted and then someone pushed the delete button.

Kris felt for his iPhone in his back pocket and slid it out. He propped himself up on one elbow, slid his thumb across the screen to unlock and went to his texts. He looked over at MJ who was looking curiously at him now. Her curious look was adorable, he noted. After his phone opened the text app he touched on MJ’s name. He scrolled up a little to read their latest conversation as he could not, for the life of him, remember where they had left off:

Kris: Ah! Didn’t even consider that problem. I guess I must first choose between your hand, and Tori’s nonsensical tests.

MJ: You probably think you can have both.

Kris: I do have excellent testing skillz. Can text one-handed if necessary.

MJ: Not interested in seeing that demonstrated, thanks.

Kris: K, can I show you how I can put my iPhone in my pocket and just hold your hand?

MJ: Yes, if you want to.

KRIS: Will your hand be available for the holding sometime this evening? My hand’s schedule has been completely cleared and anxiously awaits your reply.

(4 minutes later)

MJ: After checking my hand’s calendar, I am pleased to inform you that it is available for the holding this evening… and forever if you’d like. I’ll see you for lunch in a bit. I can’t stay away.

Kris smiled and looked at MJ. Why was she looking at him like that? The look on her face was not matching the sentiments in these texts at all. His head began to spin and he lay back on the bed.

“Honey,” AV said, “you got punched in the face by some random guy and hit your head on the ground pretty hard. You…don’t remember any of that?”

“Punched? In the face?” Kris asked as his hand went up and gingerly touched his right eye. Well, that explains that. It also explained why this pillow felt like there was a baseball in the middle of it jamming into the back of his head. Ouch.

MJ had gotten up from her chair and was walking over to Kris’ bed just as a nurse came in the room. MJ quickly sat back down. Kris squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead with one hand while the nurse put a blood pressure cuff around his other arm. He was racking his brain in an attempt to remember anything about getting into a fight. He couldn’t even think of a single person that hated him enough to punch him the face like this. Had he almost gotten mugged? Did someone mistake him for someone else? Was he jumped in the Café Rio bathroom?

“Kris? Kris Allen?” the nurse was saying.

Kris opened his eyes. The nurse was leaning over him and smiling from ear to ear. She looked positively giddy. “Oh my gosh! Kris!!” she was now practically squealing as she bent over him and hugged him as best she could while he was laying prostrate on the bed. Once she was arms length again he got a better look at her.

“Jeni?” he whispered.

“Yes!!! Wow! How are you? I mean, I can see you’re not doing great right now, but I mean, other than this how have you been??” She was talking a mile a minute and it was making Kris’ brain hurt.

“I…I thought you had, uh, moved to Arizona or something?”

“Yeah, I went to nursing school there and now I’m back and working here! I can’t believe this! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” Jeni was practically bouncing up and down now.

“I thought you got engaged to some guy named Michael?” Kris asked.

“Oh, right, well, that didn’t exactly work out. It’s a long story really.” Jeni replied. Kris had to admit she looked really good. Her hair was a little shorter than when they had dated but her skin was still flawless and her smile infectious.

“Yeah, no, this is awesome to see you. We should get together sometime…or…something,” Kris stammered because he felt like it was the thing to say.

“Oh my heck, YES!” Jeni said, each word getting higher and higher. “Here, let me give you my new number!” She grabbed Kris’ iPhone out of his hands, and in a matter of seconds went to Contacts and added herself to his phone book. Then, for good measure, added herself to Kris’ Favorites list.

Jeni handed Kris’ phone back to him. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to get my phone so I’ll have your number too!” she said and then left the room pulling the curtain closed behind her. Kris sat stunned for a moment and then looked down at his phone. Now there were two people on his Favorites. MJ and Jeni.

MJ.

Kris had been so thoroughly confused at the whole not knowing where he was, the not knowing why his right eye wouldn’t open, the general uneasiness he felt even being in a hospital, the seeing some random ex-girlfriend, etc. that he had completely forgotten MJ was sitting just a few feet away. He looked over at her to see what she thought about all of this but she was just sitting there, her head in her hand staring at an empty space on the floor. Kris got the feeling she would rather be anywhere than here right now. She looked tired.

“Huh. That was weird,” Kris said, in a weak attempt to start a conversation with her. MJ just sat back in her chair and stared at him. Kris stared back (with his one eye only, obviously) waiting for her to say something in her usual snarky way. She didn’t. Jeni then came back into the room in a tornado of energy, breaking their line of sight.

“K! What is your number?” she asked while flipping her phone open. Kris recited his number and gave her a half-hearted grin. “Yay! A bunch of people are going down to Tijuana on Friday. Remember my friends Holly, Cami, Dexter and Raj? Anyway, I’ll call you. It’s going to be sooooo fun! Oh, and the doctor will be in in just a minute to look at you. K? K. See ya!” And with that, she was gone.

“Well, she seemed nice,” AV said. She had been standing at the foot of Kris’ bed and now moved back up near his head. “So, I’m just a little concerned that you don’t remember what happened to you.”

“No, no…I totally remember,” Kris stammered. “I was just confused after waking up in a strange place. I got punched by some guy in the bathroom at Café Rio. He, um, thought I was someone else I guess. He apologized, but, you know…” Kris trailed off. He was hoping he sounded convincing enough. A little amnesia after a head injury was enough to get yourself ordered into a CAT scan or an MRI or something. There was no way in ayche-eee-double-hockey-sticks he was going to let that happen. He wanted out of here as soon as possible. He had some things to piece together (i.e. what freaking happened??) and, according to his last text from MJ he had an appointment to hold her hand tonight. There was no way he was going to do anything to mess that up.

Chapter 22: K.O.

2010-01-22T13:25:00.000-08:00

by Jespy

Kris blinked a few times, but the constellation Orion was still floating above his head, right in his line of vision. He decided to stay where he was for now, as he was pretty sure there were no stars arranged in such a way on the ceiling of Café Rio, and maybe the fact that he was seeing them meant he had a concussion or something. For a second there, he thought maybe he was dead, but the hard tiles beneath his head, covered in grit, smelling faintly of Café Rio’s signature sweet pork, was a dead giveaway.

He was alive; he only wished he were dead.

“Just so you know, Tor, that was for MJ. Not for you.”

Kris recognized Jimmy’s voice, but not the sharp, angry tone in which he spoke, void of his usual cool-calm-collect composure. He could almost feel Jimmy punctuating every syllable with a finger-jab to the air in front of him.

Tori was full-out crying now. Loudly. And from the sound of feet stomping on tile, moving away from where he was laying, it was safe to assume that Jimmy had stormed away, and took someone with him. Probably MJ. Kris couldn’t imagine her sticking around after what he had just done.

“Tori,” Kris finally managed to say, still looking up at the ceiling. His voice echoed in his ears. He reached his hands up to apply pressure to the sides of his head, because he felt like it was going to burst open at any minute. “Tori,” he said again, swallowing hard, “is she gone?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sniff, not even pretending not to know who he was asking about. “Our plan didn’t work, Kris. I’m sorry.”

Our plan?

Kris blinked up at the ceiling again, but he still saw a half-dozen blurry stars, and they were starting to sway and rearrange themselves into different constellations. Orion, to Cassiopeia, to the Big Dipper. The last of which was a good description for how he felt about himself right about now.

He heard the sharp scrape of a chair being dragged out near his head, and the sound of a body collapsing into it. It was Tori. He recognized her sniffles, periodically stifled as she’d take a bite of her salad, which he would never describe as meatless, despite having no meat, as to do so would be an oxymoron.

He realized she was speaking to him, but she was talking with her mouth full and her words were so garbled, he couldn’t begin to make sense of them. In fact, he was still trying to wrap his brain around what had happened in the last five minutes.

The moment he’d seen MJ walk in behind Simon, with Jimmy at her side, Kris had locked eyes with her. She looked shocked, her brown eyes as wide as two backyard trampolines. It was not unlike the expression in her eyes when he had kissed her backstage on Karaoke night. He wished he could go back to that night and begin things differently with her. Ever since that night, it seemed like for every step he’d take forward, towards a relationship with MJ, he’d take two steps back, towards MC Scat Cat. The regrets were really starting to pile up, and he couldn’t stop it from showing in his eyes as he looked at MJ.

The moment he let that regret show, MJ’s eyes had clouded over with tears.

Kris was ashamed of himself. He hated himself. He wanted to punch himself in the face. Of course, Jimmy beat him to it.

But before Jimmy punched him in the face, Simon had a few choice words for Kris, including a string of British curse words, all of which were quaint and adorable-sounding to anyone west of the Atlantic. The customers closest to them turned in their seats to look at Simon and smile adoringly, placing their hands over their hearts.

“Consider yourself uninvited to bloody wedding!” Simon had shouted at the end of his tirade. “So much as show your face, and I’ll call Scotland Yard and have you hauled off to jail!” Then he turned to Tori, took her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek. “I apologize, my dear, but I have lost my appetite. In fact, I won’t make good company for at least few days. But I’ll see you before the wedding.” He kissed her cheek again, glared at Kris, then turned on his heel and left.

And that’s when Jimmy’s fist exploded in Kris’s face.

He fell straight back like a piece of tazed timber. He had never been so thoroughly punched in his life, and the crushing pain was surprise. That lasted a few unbearable minutes, before it turned into a more throbbing-type pain. His vision was blurred and doubled, thus the floating stars, and there was high ringing in his ears. His entire head felt like it had been stuffed inside a giant cotton ball, hooked to a cement block, and thrown off a dirty Jersey pier into the ocean.

Even with all the pain, Kris was glad somebody had had the guts to punch him out. It needed to be done. He deserved it. Although, it should have been Simon’s weak British fist to punch him in the face, instead of Jimmy’s strong American one.

Kris heard Tori munch another bite of her salad and then say, “What are we gonna do now? Did you hear Simon? How could he possibly think of still marring me after you kissed me like that? And I haven’t seen Jimmy so angry since… well, since a long time. I think he actually wanted to punch me more than he wanted to punch you. It’s like he punched you harder to make up for the fact that he couldn’t punch me.” Another bite, then chew a bit. “I’m so so so glad I’m a girl and boys can’t punch me, ya know? That looked super painful. And the sound your head made when it hit the hard floor? Gross. I’m gagging, Kris.” Then she scrapped her chair back and leaned down to say in a lower voice, “Are you gonna get up off the floor, Kris? People are staring.”

“I’d like to. I mean… I don’t know if…” Kris raised himself up on one elbow and heaved himself to the side just as his pork salad came up from his stomach, and all over Tori’s shoes.

He was not fit to drive. That was what the doctor (who happened to be eating lunch at Café Rio) had said. Actually, she wasn’t a doctor, but her brother was. Shemily (which was her name) took one look at Kris and diagnosed him on the spot.

“You got punched in the face, hit your head on concrete tile, your vision is blurred, you feel disoriented, and you barfed? That means you have a concussion and shouldn’t drive. I know because my brother is a doctor.”

So Tori was driving his car. Barefoot. Her vomit-soaked shoes found a new home in the trashcan at Café Rio. Kris had to promise her a new pair. She drove so manically, pressing on the gas petal then letting up then pressing, that he felt like he was on a pirate ship or something. He had to have her pull over twice so he could hurl on the side of the road. The second time, as he was wiping the barf from his mouth with a napkin, he got a glimpse of himself in the side view mirror. His right eye was almost completely swollen shut, which explained why he couldn’t seem to focus his vision, and the two-inch radius surrounding his eye was already a deep crimson.

“There is no way I’m taking you home right now,” Tori said, putting on her blinker and pulling back into traffic. “I don’t want to chance running into Simon, what with him being your next door neighbor. Plus, I think I should keep an eye on you for a while. At least overnight.”

Kris looked over at Tori. Her hands were on “ten and two” on the steering wheel, and she kept glancing over at him nervously. Could she actually be concerned for his wellbeing?

Kris started to lie back against the headrest, but felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and pulled back. He probed the area with his fingers and felt a huge lump, tender to even the slightest touch. That must be where his head had hit the floor. Sighing, he turned his head toward Tori and rested his ear against the headrest. Then he closed his one eye that wasn’t already swollen shut and tried to relax away the pain.

“Kris! Don’t fall asleep! Are you falling asleep?”

“No,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.

“Well you better not, unless you want to slip into a coma and never wake up and then die,” she threatened. “Kris! Open your eye!”

Her concern made him smile for some reason. Probably because it was so unexpected.

“Kris, I’m pulling over if you don’t open your eye this instant! Kris!”

He cracked open his good eye and she visibly relaxed. “That’s better. Keep your eye open. No falling asleep. Here, give me your hand.” She took one hand off her death grip on the wheel and held it out to him. Giving her a little peace of mind was a means to an end for him, so he went along with it and took her hand. “Hold on nice and tight. And if I squeeze your hand, you squeeze back fast or I’ll know you’re falling asleep.”

Kris thought he had a better chance of living if Tori kept both hands on the steering wheel, but he was too exhausted to argue that point with her. Instead he said, “So what’s the story with you and Jimmy?”

She hedged the question at first, and Kris had to threaten to close his good eye before she finally gave in.

“I’ve been in love with Jimmy for as long as I can remember,” she said, glancing at him to check his reaction. He just stared back at her, waiting, so she continued. “Our moms are BFFs, did you know? They met on blogspot when Jimmy and I were just kids, and they instantly imprinted on each other. We took family vacays together for years, and eventually his family moved to Bako to live closer to our family, and to launch their joint business venture: Instant Imprints T-shirts. We were practically raised together from then on. Jimmy is four years older than me, so he always thought of me more as a little sister than a potential girlfriend. But I was oh-so-obviously in love with him.”

She squeezed his hand, and when he didn’t squeeze back fast enough, she squeezed again. “Kris! C’mon!”

Squeeze.

“That’s better. You better squeeze back faster next time or I’m gonna pull over for reals.”

He rolled his eye.

“Anyway,” she continued, “Jimmy didn’t really take my crush srsly. I would follow him around, all swoony, hanging on his every word—it was very pathetic, but you know Jimmy. Never lets anything bother him. He was always so sweet with me too. I would show up at his house almost daily—he lived just down the street on Severn Lane—and he’d swing open his front door, looking pleased to see me, and say something like, ‘Finally! Tori’s here!” even though his friends had to hate me hanging around—I was only a freshman, after all, and they were seniors. His girlfriends especially hated me. Once, I showed up at Jimmy’s house and he’d been watching a movie with this girl all snuggled up against him. I can’t remember her real name, but we called her Toddler Dancer, cuz she danced like a toddler. But anyway, Jimmy just said something like, ‘Oh, you’d love this movie, Tor,’ then he got up from the couch and started the movie over for me, and made room for me on the couch. Toddler Dancer spent two hours glaring at me.”

This was all hard for Kris to imagine. Tori on the wrong side of unrequited love? She was just so freakishly hot.

Squeeze.

“Good squeeze, Kris. Where was I? Oh yeah. It wasn’t until the summer before my senior year of high school that I started to notice Jimmy noticing me. He was home from school for the summer—he went to Harvard, ya know? So clever. Anyway, our whole family went with his parents to pick him up from the airport, and when he saw me waiting by the baggage claim, he just looked at me differently, like I wasn’t just a little girl with a crush on him anymore. We spent the whole summer together, hanging out, watching movies, talking until two in the morning and then texting for another two hours after that. We couldn’t seem to spend enough time together. And it was nice, ya know, cuz I liked hearing about his classes and his goals and dreams and stuff, and he also liked hearing me talk about my interests, even though it was mostly superficial stuff compared to his plans to change the world. Stuff like boys and shopping and becoming a shoe designer. He never judged me for being interested in that kind of stuff, because he knew there was more to me than that. But with the summer mostly over, he still hadn’t made a move on me and I started to think that maybe I was wrong and he did still see me as a little sister to him.”

Squeeze.

“Of course, he’d always have his arm around me, which I knew didn’t mean anything to him because that’s a casual thing for him to do. But I lived for those moments. I would let myself melt into him. I’d pretend he had his arm around me because he loved me so much that he couldn’t stand to keep his hands off me. That’s how I felt about him. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure,” Kris said, and he stopped himself before he could think about MJ, and how much he wanted to just hold her hand. “So nothing happened that summer, then?”

“Well, something did happen, but it wasn’t until his very last night in town. We were down in his parent’s basement, watching a movie, his arm was slung across the back of the couch, and I was snuggled up real close beside him, but acting as if I didn’t mean anything by it. Have you ever felt his chest? Or his abs? Rock hard. He’s built. He has muscles on top of muscles but not in an over-the-top way. Think Jacob in New Moon. Anyway, I was sitting there beside him when he turned to me and said almost casually, ‘The only reason I haven’t kissed you is because you’re 17 and I’m overage and it feels illegal. This is killing me, though.’

“I am telling you, I about died! I was so caught off guard by it all; my heart was pounding like I had just run all the way down the driveway to my mailbox! In heels!”

Long squeeze.

Normal squeeze.

“So I blurted out some stupid response, he laughed, and then he leaned down kissed me, finally, for the first time—”

“What did you blurt out?”

“—and it was the most amazing kiss. Have you ever had a first kiss with somebody you were already in love with? It’s breathtaking—”

“What did you blurt out?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not pertinent to the rest of the story.”

“My eye is closing…”

“Kris! OK, fine! I said, ‘please, I’m begging you.’ Don’t laugh, geez, I told you it was stupid. But it worked, obviously, because he completely caved and kissed me despite my underageness.

“We dated long-distance for a year. He came back to visit every chance he could, but it wasn’t often. That was the best and worst year of my life. But the next summer, I was finished with high school and he was finished with his undergrad and we could finally be together.”

“So, you got engaged, and then you called off the wedding only days before. Why?” Kris asked.

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” she said, sighing. “I don’t know if you’ll understand this, but it just felt like the wrong thing for Jimmy, ya know? Marrying me when he had all these big plans for himself. He wanted to go onto law school and I sort of pressured him into marrying me first. I just couldn’t stand to be apart from him anymore. He went along with what I wanted just to please me. It took me a while to realize I was making a mistake. I didn’t want to start off our life together that way, forcing him to do what I wanted. I tried to explain it all to Jimmy, but he kept telling me not to worry, he was ready to marry me. He just wouldn’t listen. So I finally forced him to listen and called off the wedding.”

“Whoa,” Kris said.

“I know.”

Squeeze.

Long Squeeze.

“It was terrible. Jimmy was angry and hurt and wouldn’t speak to me for about a year. I’d never cried so much in my life. I was miserable, and I made a whole lot of other people miserable too.” She glanced over at Kris and said, “You can understand now why I can’t put my family through that again? I know this is my fault and I need to take responsibility for it all, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it again.”

Kris nodded, but he actually thought Tori was underestimating herself. She was a lot stronger than she knew. Mentally speaking.

Tori pulled onto Adam’s driveway and turned off the car, but she stayed in her seat and twisted toward him. Something else was on her mind, he could tell. After a few false starts, she finally said, “Kris. I’m gonna help you fix things with MJ.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, finding a firm voice despite his fuzzy head. MJ seemed like such a lost cause now that even hearing her name made his heart feel like it was in a vice grip. That pain was much worse than any other physical pain he was feeling right now.

Tori nodded a little and squeezed his hand. He didn’t know if she was squeezing his hand in understanding or squeezing his hand to make sure he wasn’t dying, but he squeezed back just in case.

“Well, so you know, a black eye really suits you.”

“Really.”

“Yes. A black eye on your boyish, adorable face? Makes you look interesting and mysterious.”

His black eye was no mystery to anyone who mattered, but he didn’t say anything.

Tori squeezed his hand one last time and then let go without waiting for his response. She jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger side and opened his door for him.

“Mm fine, Tori,” he said when she tried to put her arm around his waist and help him out. He was very lightheaded, but Tori’s fragile, weak arm wasn’t capable of supporting his weight; she would only get in the way and make walking more awkward.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind Tori. Kris’s head shot up, because it was Jimmy. “You need help?” he asked, watching Kris evenly. Tori stepped back and put her hands on her hips with a huff. She gave Jimmy a look that wouldn’t inspire a reunion between them anytime soon. Kris decided he’d have to talk to her about that, or she’d never patch things up with Jimmy.

“I think you’ve done enough,” she said.

Jimmy ignored her, looking only at Kris. He didn’t apologize to him, and there was no contrition in his expression either. Kris didn’t want one anyway. They both understood that he had gotten exactly what had been coming to him. Jimmy had only done the necessary dirty work, like taking the trash out to the curb.

“Uh, no, I got it,” Kris said, and quickly stepped from the car to prove this, which made him sway. He tried to reach back for the door to steady himself, and was in danger of kissing the driveway, when Jimmy moved past Tori and put his shoulder under Kris’s arm.

So Kris walked up the path to Adam’s house, supported by the guy who had punched him in the face only moments before.

Adam was standing in the open doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Kris remembered that he needed to talk to him about that lying jagbag Simon, but it would have to wait until he could get him alone. “What the aych were you thinking?” Adam asked, closing the door behind them.

“It wasn’t his fault. If you want to blame someone, blame Landee…” Tori started to say but then AV walked in the foyer and let out a cry, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh no! Kris, what happened?” she said.

So, Adam knew what Kris had done to deserve this, but AV did not. For that he was grateful, even though she deserved to know. The wedding she’d been planning was about to fall apart and he had played a key roll in this mess.

“It appears he was punched in the face,” Jimmy said.

“What?! Why? Who would do such a thing to our Kris? Bring him into the family room, Jimmy. Oh thank goodness you’re here to help.”

“I’m fine,” Kris said, collapsing on the far left side of the couch.

“He’s not fine, and neither are my shoes,” Tori said, sitting on the coffee table across from him and studying his face.

“Great, what happened to your shoes?” Adam asked.

“He threw up all over them.”

“The strappy red ones?” Adam asked, horrified.

“Yes, but don’t freak out, he’s going to buy me a new pair.”

“Threw up?” AV asked incredulously. “This is serious. We need to take him to the hospital.”

“I saw a doctor, I’m fine.” Kris leaned to the side and pulled Shemily’s business card out of his back pocket.

AV took it from him, read it, and said, “What’s this? This isn’t a doctor’s business card, it’s some girl who works at AT&T.”

“Her brother is a doctor,” Tori explained.

“I see,” AV said. “Well, I’m gonna give her a call, then, because I have a few questions. But who in the world would punch you, Kris? What happened?”

“I didn’t really see the guy, just his fist,” Kris said, locking eyes with Jimmy, who had taken a seat in the arm chair closest to him. He looked relaxed, sitting with one foot up on his knee, home teacher style, but there was concern marking his expression, which made Kris nervous. Maybe he was in worse shape than he knew.

When AV left the room to call the doctor’s sister, Jimmy leaned forward and said, “You do look terrible. If I’d known how poorly you’d take the hit, I wouldn’t have used my left hook.”

Tori shot Jimmy a look. “Was it really necessary to use your left hook anyway? You knocked him out!”

“I honestly didn’t think he’d go down like that.”

“I’m fine,” Kris insisted. This was getting embarrassing. Now he was a jerk and a wimp. He actually felt queasy again but he was determined to hold it back this time.

“Dude, your breath is probably nast, so Imma go grab you some gum,” Adam said.

“Plus Motrin, and a glass of water,” Kris added.

Adam nodded and patted Kris’s shoulder on the way out of the room.

In the silence that followed Adam’s departure, they could hear AV’s muffled voice as she spoke on the phone with Shemily in the other room. Then they heard her call out, “MJ! Get down here, we need you! Hurry, honey!”

The three of them exchanged looks. Kris hadn’t allowed himself to even think of her since he left Café Rio. He didn’t know what to say, or how to deal with this situation at all. He wanted to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. He’d probably puke on her shoes, too.

The couch was positioned in such a way that Kris’s back was to the kitchen. He could hear AV in there, opening drawers and then the freezer. She was still on the phone with the doctor’s sister when she said, “MJ, there you are. Kris has been hurt. Hurry and take these ice bags into him and help him, OK?”

Tori’s eyes widened slightly, but then she gave Kris a quick reassuring smile. When MJ walked into the family room, it was hard for Kris to look at her, but he made himself do it. Her eyes were clear, carefully void of any expression, but she cringed when she saw his face. She had two ice bags in her hands, but she just stood there as if she didn’t know what to do.

“Sit here, MJ,” Tori said, all business now, patting the cushion next to Kris. “Give him one bag that he can hold that over his eye.” MJ followed her instruction without a word. The ice offered a surprising amount of relief from the pain, and Kris let out a sigh. “He needs ice on the back of his head too,” Tori said. “No, he can’t hold both bags of ice, MJ; you’ll have to hold it for him.”

“It’s OK, I got it,” Kris said.

“Kris, will you stop saying you’re OK?” Tori snapped. “It’s really annoying, geez! Make sure it stays right over the lump on his head.”

MJ’s arm came up to rest on his back as she plopped the ice pack on the back of his head. The jagged ice cubes on his sore head gave him more pain than relief, but he kept this to himself. He shut his eye for a second and just enjoyed MJ’s closeness. Then Tori snapped at him again. “Kris! You can’t fall asleep. Open your eye. MJ, hold his hand,” she said sharply. “He wants to fall asleep, but you can’t let him. If he looks like he’s falling asleep, squeeze his hand.”

And so it happened. Not the way he had hoped it would happen, but it happened. And it didn’t matter that she was doing it out of some strange obligation; he still had a heart-pounding physical reaction to her hand in his. It felt small, and was cold from holding the ice bags. He wanted to bring their linked hands up to his mouth and kiss the back of her hand, but he didn’t, of course. He just held it, and occasionally brushed his thumb over hers.

“You OK, MJ?” Jimmy asked after a while. She just sort of shrugged.

AV came back in the room, then, and sat down next to MJ. “OK, here’s what the doctor’s sister said. Kris has a concussion so we can’t let him fall asleep tonight or he’ll die. It’s gonna be a long harrowing night.”

Chapter 21: Vibes

2010-01-20T20:03:00.003-08:00

It makes no difference that the Café Rio website indicates that there is no Café Rio anywhere near San Diego. There is one. As a matter of fact, it’s conveniently located near Adam’s house. And, as another matter of fact, this is precisely where Kris was when he kissed Tori. On the mouth. Lips parted. A little tongue.

Half an hour before Kris had had absolutely no intention of following through on the plan Tori had laid out in the car on the way over. No intention at all. But what Kris was beginning to realize was that Tori, though seemingly short-changed in the smarts department, was surprisingly shrewd and cunning when it came to getting what she wanted. And through no fault of his own, Kris had become a key player in getting Tori her little heart’s desire.

Looking back now it was almost silly to think that he fought it. Going against Tori was a lost cause from the get-go. But fight it he did….for a while.

Kris had stood in line deciding on what to order. He usually went with the sweet pork salad with black beans & rice, no pico, tomatilla dressing, and extra tortilla strips. However, knowing Simon was on his way made him think twice about his ole standby. Salads weren’t exactly manly after all (even if a Café Rio salad was the most un-salad-like salad ever made). And Kris would never forget how much Simon ridiculed him when, during his one four hour shift at Chuck E. Cheese, Kris ate his “on the job meal” completely from the salad bar. You would think Simon had never seen a man eat a piece of lettuce before the way he berated Kris and attempted to emasculate him. No, Kris wasn’t going to put himself through that again. He ordered a much more manlier sweet pork burrito—enchilada style, for good measure.

“Um, I’ll have the salad….oh no, no meat. Just the beans, rice and cheese….” Kris could hear Tori ordering behind him. It was a good reminder of her ridiculous food issues. Just what he needed to firm up his decision to absolutely not help her out of her love triangle catastrophe. After all, what did he have to gain here? Nothing. How would this help him move closer to a meaningful relationship with MJ? It wouldn’t. Why would he want to damage his relationship with Simon, his only link to the music business? He didn’t. Did he want a drink with his burrito? He looked over at the drink choices and spotted Diet Dr. Pepper on tap. Yes. Yes he did. Kris was feeling like he had all the right answers today.

Kris paid for their food, filled up their drinks and joined Tori at a table.

“Now remember, when we see Simon pull up you need to skooch your chair over here and look into my eyes all lovey-dovey and stuff, I’ll do the rest,” Tori said as she dumped her dressing on her salad and began mixing it all together.

“I’m. Not. Helping. You. With. This,” Kris said as seriously as he possibly could, emphasizing each word. “I already told you in the car. No friggin way am I getting involved here.”

“Kris, puulleeeeeeeaaaaazzzeeeee,” Tori said in the whiniest baby voice Kris had ever heard. She was stamping her feet under the chair a little as she said it as well. The people at the table next to them looked over.

“No…stop” Kris said, putting his hand on hers in an attempt to steady her body from bouncing up and down.

“Exactly. Perfect. Just like that. But with more eye contact,” Tori said looking down Kris’ hand on hers.

Kris recoiled his hand immediately as if he had just touched Parking Lot Willy’s toothbrush. “I’m not kidding here, Tori!” Kris was getting agitated now. He decided the best way to convince her was to simply be honest. “Look, judging from your comment earlier about MJ, you’ve probably figured out that I really, really like her. I really, really want to get to know her better. And I really, really don’t want to screw anything up with her more than I already have.”

Tori looked at him with an expression of complete sympathy and understanding. Good, thought Kris, maybe this is working and she’ll leave me out of it.

Tori’s sympathetic expression vanished and her eyes narrowed. “It won’t screw anything up with MJ, believe me. My plan is foolproof! MJ will never even know why Simon has called off the wedding. Besides, MJ has adored you since the second she met you. No wait, since BEFORE she even met you. She’s always known what she’s wanted in life.” Tori looked down at her salad, “I envy her that.” The last sentence was uttered so quietly Kris could barely hear it.

Gosh dangit, Kris thought. He’d never seen Tori look so genuine. Do not let her suck you in, he told himself. She does look kind of pathetic sitting over there eating a meatless salad though…no no no! Stop it. You’re not doing this.

Tori looked up at him. “Why are you squeezing your eyes shut & shaking your head?” she asked, back to her usual self.

“Was I? Well, it’s probably because you’re making me insane,” Kris said clenching his jaw. “Do you not see what is at stake here? For ME? Look, I’m sorry Jimmy showed up and you are now having second thoughts about marrying Simon. I really am. I know what it’s like to think you love one person only to realize you…” Kris hesitated, “…love someone else. I mean, no one understands more than I do. But, even if MJ weren’t a factor here, there is no way I’m jeopardizing what I have going with Simon. He’s my manager. He’s my only link to the music business. I’m not throwing that away for you Tori. I’m just not.”

Tori laughed.

“Why are you laughing? I’m srs here,” Kris said, even more agitated than before.

“I’m laughing because you’re such a sucker,” Tori said, still laughing as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Simon is hardly a manager in the music biz,” she continued, making air quotes as she said “music biz.” “What was the last gig he booked for you? Huh? Karaoke night at The Shack? What music producers have you met with where Simon has set up the meeting? Any? Didn’t think so.” She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest, practically daring him to answer.

Kris stared at her. He could hear the words coming out of her mouth but they made no sense. Of course Simon had helped further his career. He had… well, that one time he… actually, come to think of it, all he had done was criticize Kris’ music and told him to get a better haircut. Kris had to admit his new I’m-Not-Trying-Too-Hard-Disheveled-Do was a brilliant move style-wise but what had it done for him career-wise? Anything? Simon had made all the arrangements when Adam and Kris recorded their demo tape but even at the time Kris wondered if they were just in the basement of one of Simon’s friend’s mom’s houses. The equipment was pathetic and the sound quality awful. And, as far as he knows the only person to ever hear that recording was MJ.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tori said, leaning forward, “Simon wants to be a manager more than anything. He loves music and he thinks you and Adam are superdee dooper talented. But being the youngest manager in the history of Chuck E. Cheese doesn’t happen because you’re spending all your time helping someone else crack into the music industry, ya know?”

“But what about that $2000 Adam and I gave him a couple of months ago as an advance?” Kris asked, still a bit bewildered. “He said he needed it for his travel expenses for when he goes up to LA to promote us.”

“Oh….I don’t know….” Tori said as she absent-mindedly began to twist her engagement ring around her finger.

Kris could feel the blood rushing to his face. He knew exactly where that two grand went. He gripped the sides of the table in an effort to keep himself from throwing a chair across the restaurant. Breathe, just breathe, he repeated to himself while at the same time picturing himself choking Simon until his pompous British accent no longer existed. He obviously had no proof of this but he knew it was the truth. All the little inconsistencies he had previously ignored instantaneously added up in his mind to form the whole of his realization. Tori was telling the truth. Even if she chose this moment to tell him just to get him to go along with her plan it was still the truth. Now the question was what is he going to do about it?

Kris needed to walk around. He needed to think. He got up, without saying a word to Tori, and went into the bathroom. He got out his iPhone to send a text to Adam. He slid his finger across the screen to unlock it and immediately saw the text he had typed out to MJ but had never sent: MJ, I desperately want to hold your hand. I ache to hold your hand. I can barely think straight when I’m around you and your hand is within my reach—Kris was so annoyed with himself. He hated it when he didn’t send texts right away. Now, after all this time had passed, this text was going to be so stupid. But at the same time he didn’t want her to think that he had forgotten about her. He backspaced the entire text and decided to lighten the mood a little: Will your hand be available for the holding sometime this evening? My hand’s schedule has been completely cleared and anxiously awaits your reply.

Send.

Kris’ small smile that had crept onto his face while thinking of MJ vanished as he remembered why he had checked his phone in the first place. He went to Adam’s name and typed out a text: Dooooood, have you heard anything from Simon about his trips to LA? I was just thinking he probably should have given us an update or something by now.

Send.

Kris didn’t want to say anything too damning over text. What he really wanted to do was talk to Adam in person and figure out what their next move should be. He hoped this text would at least get Adam thinking.

He stood against the bathroom wall for a few minutes hoping either MJ or Adam would text him back but neither did. As the seconds ticked by, Kris’ anger rose steadily. He kept replaying in his mind all the things Simon had said to him in the past. He thought of all the times Simon said he was “this close” to getting them a meeting with Sony Records and how his “contact down at RCA was very interested in Kris’ vibe.” Who says vibe anymore anyway? No one. Certainly not anyone who works at a major record label, that’s for sure. Kris was practically shaking with rage at this point. He pushed away from the bathroom wall determined to face punch Simon the first chance he got.

As he walked back to the table he looked at Tori and realized his chance to hurt Simon was right in front of him. What better way to get revenge than to break up his engagement? Kris knew his unreasonable side had taken over but he didn’t care. He was determined to put Simon in his place and the perfect opportunity was being served up to him as easily as a cheeseburger at a McDonald’s drive-thru.

Kris scanned the parking lot through the glass wall which spanned the entire front & left side of the restaurant. He saw Simon’s Ford Fusion pulling into a parking spot a few spots away from his pearl-toned Suzuki XL7.

“Ok Tori, let’s do this,” Kris said as he touched her on the shoulder.

Tori turned and looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You really mean it?” she asked, her voice squeaky with excitement.

“It’s now or never,” Kris said. “Look.” He nodded toward the parking lot. Tori turned and saw the back end of Simon’s car sticking out of its parking space. Now Simon had opened his door and was getting out.

“Ok…ok…um….ok…” Tori said as she stood up to face Kris. “Let’s just, um…ok…let’s just act like we’re talking and then I’ll…”

“Ssshhh….” Kris said, pressing his finger to Tori’s lips. He looked out of the corner of his eye, waiting until he was sure Simon could see them through the glass. He was inches away from Tori’s face and they stood toe-to-toe. He felt the vibration of his phone receiving a text in his back pocket and heard the muffled doodledoot but decided to ignore it for now. If it was Adam he didn’t really need to consult with him on what they should do next now. “Just hold on a second here…” he said, patiently waiting for the perfect moment.
“Kris,” Tori said, “you don’t have to….”

“It’s ok,” Kris replied, with a devilishly handsome grin, “I want to. I reeeeeeally, really want to.” Just then he could feel Simon’s eyes on them through the plate glass window.

“Showtime,” he said as he reached down and took a hold of Tori’s face in both his hands. He pulled her to him and gently kissed her. Unlike MJ, Tori was obviously experienced in kissing and she immediately began to kiss him back. Their lips parted. The classic “plum” kiss began, but only lasted a fraction of a second before they heard—

“What in the bloody hell is going on here?” Simon yelled as he swung open the glass doors leading into the restaurant.

Kris and Tori broke away from each other and Kris turned to face Simon, shoulders back with confidence. He could not wait to hear what that lying, cheating jagbag Simon had to say about this. Simon remained standing in the doorway, unsure of how he should handle what he had just seen. Kris smirked a little as he had never seen Simon unsure of anything. Kris’ smirk vanished immediately, however, when he noticed Simon wasn’t the only one standing there in the doorway.

MJ was there too.

Chapter 20: Torn Between Two Weddings

2010-01-20T19:09:00.000-08:00

by Jespy

“It’s all yours, Tor,” Jimmy said, handing over the keys to his rented Cadillac Escalade. “Be gentle.”

Tori took the keys with barely disguised anger. “Why am I the one stuck babysitting the boys, while you all get to go shopping? I’m the bride,” she said, almost stomping her foot in frustration.

Having been stuck babysitting the Spawns of Satan many times in the past few days, Kris found himself sympathizing with Tori, especially when he saw what the Spawns were doing to that larger-than-life Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakual display.

Tori (who Kris had always called “Gityd” in his mind—which stood for “Girl in the yellow dress”—because he hadn’t known her real name) was the girl who Kris believed himself to be in love with until a few days ago, when he realized that he was actually in love with her younger sister, MJ. Tori had turn out to be rather self-centered and silly once he had gotten to know her, not to mention she was engaged to his British A-hole manager, Simon. But by the time Kris realized all this, he had really screwed things up with MJ—kissing her and then participating in an all-night texting fest with Tori on the very same night, to give an example. He’d been confused! But he wasn’t anymore, he knew which sister he wanted, and he was willing to do whatever it took to win MJ. That’s when this Jimmy fellow came into the picture, a Rhett Butler-type but without the mustache. Kris had yet to figure out why Jimmy had suddenly and unexpectedly arrived, and why his presence seemed to annoy Tori, while at the same time, make MJ so happy. Kris just hoped there were no romantic feelings between Jimmy and MJ, because he defiantly couldn’t compete with a mustache-less Rhett Butler.

“Tori, honey,” AV said, bringing all readers back to the present time, “we’re shopping for your wedding gift. You can’t come along.”

“I don’t think I should be brushed off like this and made to babysit,” she said, disregarding her mom’s perfectly reasonable explanation. “What sense does it make to have the bride suffer before her wedding day? I shouldn’t feel this unhappy. Can’t MJ watch the boys?” she said sullenly.

MJ rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll take them.”

But Jimmy slung his arm over MJ’s shoulders and pulled her back. “She’s not your lap dog, Tor, she’s your sister.”

Tori glared at Jimmy. An intense glare that carried more anger and resentment than the situation called for. MJ and AV seemed to understand where this anger was coming from, and looked even more uncomfortable for knowing. But Jimmy was taking it all in stride. He even smiled at her.

Kris couldn’t stand the awkwardness, so he jumped in, although it pained him to make the offer he was about to make. “Hey, I’ll go with you, Tori,” he said, despite wanting desperately to spend the day with MJ. “So you won’t be alone with the Spawns… er… I mean, with your brothers,” he said, which was like volunteering to shove bamboo shoots under his fingernails. He was a fricken saint. “Maybe we could drop them off at Adam’s house and then I’ll take you out to lunch or something?” he suggested, wishing he could take MJ out to lunch instead, who, incidentally, hadn’t spared him a glance since they’d left the theater.

Kris’s goal was to move this day along in the hopes that he’d have MJ to himself when the day’s wedding errands were finished up. AV was sure to have more to do tomorrow, but there would be some down time tonight.

Kris watched MJ chip away at her nail polish, and willed her to look up at him. But she didn’t.

AV heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you Kris. Tori’s right, she shouldn’t feel left out before her wedding.”

“That will be fine,” Tori said, her chin raising a notch as he held out Jimmy’s car keys. “More than fine, actually. Kris is exactly the person I’d want to spend the day with.” Her eyes flickered briefly toward her sister, who was still the bearer of Jimmy’s arm, and then she looped her arm through Kris’s. She jingled the keys. “Take them. I don’t need your car. I have Kris,” she said suggestively, snuggling in closer to him.

Kris tried to put some distance between he and Tori, despite their linked arms, as he had no desire to send MJ any more mixed signals. All he wanted was her, and he would gladly convey that to MJ with a meaningful stare if she would just look at him, fhs!

Jimmy finally disengaged his arm from around MJ’s shoulders and took Tori’s outstretched hand, gently removed his keys, and then closed her fingers. “She’s all yours, Kris,” he said, matching Tori’s harsh gaze.

The Spawns were driving him crazy, so it was a good thing they were almost to Adam’s house. Tori had been staring out the passenger side window the whole drive, apparently too lost in her thoughts to carry on a conversation, which was just fine with him, but he wished she would snap out of it long enough to get her brothers under control.

“Boys!” she suddenly screamed, and Kris about hit a mailbox. “Shutty!”

Silence from the backseat.

“It’s as if you were reading my mind. Impressive,” Kris said. He glanced over at her and she gave him a half-hearted smile then looked away. Her eyes had been suspiciously shiny, as if she was tearing up, and Kris quickly faced forward, pretending he didn’t just see what he just saw.

When they pulled into Adam’s driveway, the Spawns of Satan burst forth from his faux-SUV like dough from a Pillsbury crescent roll can, and raced toward the front door. Kris got out and walked around the car, and then thought better of going inside. “I’ll just wait out here while you get them settled, if you don’t mind,” Kris called.

Tori nodded, and Kris acted as if she hadn’t nodded in such an obviously morose way. He didn’t want to know what was upsetting her, and he had no desire to get involved in another one of her problems. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he his own problems to figure out? Besides, Tori always recovered quickly. She’d probably be her usual bubbly yellow self by the time she came back out.

Kris put Tori out of his mind, leaned against the passenger side of his pearl toned XL7, and pulled out his iPhone. Before Tori and her watery eyes had distracted him, MJ had been on his mind. He was making himself crazy, thinking about her, but he didn’t care. He was craving her like a housewife craved an afternoon Diet Coke slash Diet Dr. Pepper cocktail, but without the accompanying headache. Every nerve in his body itched to have some contact with her, however slight.

He sent her a fishing text…

Kris: So, awkward question for you…

And then he waited. Her response came quick, to his utter satisfaction.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Awkward questions are best delivered thru text. Ask away.

Kris typed: What would’ve happened if I had tried to hold your hand during Paul Blart Mall Cop?

He was openly flirting with her. And it made his pulse race. Send.

Doodledoot.

MJ: If you had held my hand, how would you have managed to text Tori?

Kris smiled. He had sent Tori a few texts before the movie started, only because she had looked so sad, and apparently MJ had taken note. Had she been jealous?

Kris: Ah! Didn’t even consider that problem. I guess I must first choose between your hand, and Tori’s nonsensical tests. Send.

Doodledoot.

MJ: You probably think you can have both.

Yes, she was for sure jealous. Brilliant! He decided to tease her a little.

Kris: I do have excellent testing skillz. Can text one-handed if necessary... Send.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Not interested in seeing that demonstrated, thanks.

Kris: K, can I show you how I can put my iPhone in my pocket and just hold your hand?

She made him wait long enough for her reply that he started to doubt his approach. Had he sounded insincere? Should he have been more contrite? More understanding of her feelings?

Doodledoot.

MJ: Yes, if you want to.

Kris smiled down at her text, feeling the triumph explode inside him like a Mentos in a soda bottle. He was so happy that he typed out exactly what he was feeling, without editing himself: MJ, I desperately want to hold your hand. I ache to hold your hand. I can barely think straight when I’m around you and your hand is within my reach—

Before Kris could finish his thought or send his reply, he heard the front door open, and looked up to see Tori coming down the porch steps. He started to turn his attention back to his iPhone, but did a double take at Tori. Her eyes were swimming with tears.

Oh boy, thought Kris, quickly shoving his iPhone into his back pocket. Not again.

She blinked and the tears spilled down her cheeks. By the time she reached Kris, her face had completely crumbled, and she threw herself into his reluctant arms, squeezing the breath out of him.

Umph.

“I can’t marry Simon!” she wailed in his ear.

“Shhh, it’s all right… Wait, what?!” Kris said, pushing her away and holding her at arm’s length. “What do you mean you can’t marry Simon? The wedding is right around the corner. Every arrangement has been made. You bought a yellow wedding dress!” And all that was exactly the wrong thing to say, because Tori’s wails turned to gut-wrenching sobs and Kris had no choice but to collect her back into his embrace. “Forget what I said. It’ll be OK,” he murmured, even though he knew it wouldn’t be OK.

As Kris soothed Tori, holding her delicate figure in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that up until a few days ago, this is exactly the outcome he would have hoped for. Staring up at the stars glued to his bedroom ceiling, he had dreamed that girl in the yellow dress would be in his arms, refusing to marry that A-hole Simon. What a selfish dream. Now it felt more like a nightmare. AV had spent a small fortune on this rushed wedding, and to call it off this soon before the wedding would probably cause her a great deal of embarrassment too. On the other hand, he couldn’t encourage Tori to marry a man if she was having doubts about it. He wouldn’t try to convince her one way or the other. She had to decide, and then take responsibility for it.

“Do you love him?” he asked gently.

She hiccupped. “Maybe, but not enough to marry him.”

Kris sighed. “Do you think you’re just having cold feet about getting married?”

She pulled away and looked up at him in confusion, and even with tear-streaked mascara, she was stunning. “It’s not about getting married, it’s about getting married to Simon. I want to marry someone else.”

Oh boy.

Kris said, “I think maybe you should talk to your mom about this, or MJ.”

Tori was shaking her head before Kris even finished his sentence, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “I can’t! I can’t break off another wedding. My family will hate me even more.”

Tori collapsed against him, sobbing, and Kris could feel the dread blooming inside him as her tears soaked through his shirt. “What do you mean ‘another wedding’?”

She sniffed, and spoke into his chest, but he could hear every muffled word. “I was engaged before. Days before the wedding, I called it off.” She wailed. “And everybody hated me for it!”

Kris hugged her and whispered encouraging words, even though he felt stunned and appalled. Two weddings, completely arranged and paid for, and then called off on a whim? He didn’t know if he was being fair about the whim part, but he couldn’t help but feel some anger on behalf of Tori’s family, and on behalf of the poor sap she’d left at the alter, so to speak.

“Wait a minute,” Kris said, pulling away to look down at her. “Who was the other guy you were engaged to?”

She nodded, seeing the guess in his expression. “Jimmy.”

Kris hugged Tori back to his chest, as he felt an inappropriate, yet unstoppable, grin coming on. Jimmy was the poor sap! What luck! Because there was no way MJ could have romantic feelings for one of Tori’s exes. Of that, he was sure—and grateful that he would never become one of her exes.

Kris tried to imagine Jimmy being jilted, and a fresh grin blossomed on his face. He looked at Jimmy’s arrival in a whole new light. Tori was right about one thing: Jimmy had some nerve showing up for her “welding” (ßas she had texted). But things must have ended somewhat amicably for him to do so. Or maybe not, Kris thought, remembering the last look Tori had given Jimmy. Either way, he had to admit, he would never have the nerve to show up if he was in Jimmy’s position, or the confidence to pull it off.

“Tori, try to calm down. It isn’t the end of the world. You have to decide what’s best for you—”

“Kay,” she said, sniffing and looking up at Kris. “I have decided what’s best for me. I need to make Simon call off the wedding so I can marry Jimmy.”

“How can you make Simon—Whoa, did you say ‘marry Jimmy’? I thought you didn’t want to marry him, either?”

“That’s right. I didn’t want to marry Jimmy, but now I do. I was wrong, I guess. I mean, I was right to call off my wedding to Jimmy back then, but wrong to agree to marry Simon now. Because I love Jimmy. I love him.”

Kris had never heard her speak with such unaffected honesty. Still, he had to ask, “Really? Cuz it seems more like you hate him.”

She nodded. “I hate him a very small amount. Mostly, I love him. Madly. Deeply.”

This was srs. And way beyond his understanding. “You need to talk to your mom about this.”

“No. You have to promise me you won’t tell her! I’m confiding in you, Kris.”

And that’s what he was worried about. “I’m the wrong person to confide in.”

“No you’re not. You’re perfect, don’t you see? I can’t bear to disappoint my family again.”

“Your family won’t be disappointed in you,” he said, boldface lying. “They’ll understand if you explain that your feelings have changed—”

“I have a plan,” she interrupted. “But I can’t do it without your help.”

“Uh, I dunno, Tori. This is kind of a conflict of interest for me.”

“I can’t do this by myself, Kris!” Tori wailed. “I have to get Simon to call off the wedding, and at the same time, get Jimmy to take me back.”

Kris didn’t like where this was going.

Tori continued, “Simon is so jealous, if he caught you and I—”

Kris jumped away from her. “No. No. I will not do what you are suggesting.”

Oh Sword. Simon is gonna kill me. Litrly. Kill me.

“Kris, please listen to me. It’ll be one innocent brotherly kiss.”

Kris walked to his side of the car and got in. Tori was buckled in the passenger side and wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes with a tissue from her purse before he even had the key in the ignition. “You don’t get it, Tori. I object to so much more than a brotherly kiss from you. This isn’t right, and it’s not going to work, and it’s going to hurt a lot of people in the process. Honesty is the best policy in this case, believe me.” He looked over his shoulder and backed out of the driveway.

“Oh barf, Kris. How boring can you be?”

“I have no problem with boring.”

“MJ hates boring.”

Kris clinched his jaw. Then he said incredulously, “And MJ would find me more appealing if I kissed her sister? She can’t even stand it when I text you.”

Tori looked at him in surprise and Kris immediately wished he hadn’t said that. Tori’s reaction made him feel like he had divulged some sort of secret about MJ, and he would never do that intentionally. He wished again that he was with MJ right now, instead of with Tori. He replayed their last text exchange in his mind, torturing himself with his building desire to see her.

They were silent the rest of the way to the lunch, which was Café Rio. Tori started crying again at one point on the way there, which made Kris feel horrible, but she managed to reign in the tears after much effort. He felt sorry for her, and he wanted to help her do things the right way, although he had no intention of aiding and abetting her in any scheme.

Walking into Café Rio, Tori inhaled the tell-tale shaky breath of someone who has been crying, and looped her arm through Kris’s. He patted her arm comfortingly, looking down at her with concern. Tori had her iPhone in her other hand.

“Who are you texting?” he asked, watching her thumb skip across the keyboard. A one-handed text, while her other arm was linked in his.

“Simon. Just telling him that you’re taking me out to lunch, which is the honest truth. He seems mad about it, tho,” she said innocently. “He’s going to meet us.”

And that’s when Kris realized that Tori would find a way to drag him into this mess whether he liked it or not.

Chapter 19: Movie Madness

2009-09-27T22:33:00.000-07:00

Chapter 19: Movie Madness

“Wha? How did you…? Why…. Mom!” Tori said, turning to her mom with her mouth gaping open and her eyes as big and round as dessert plates. She turned back again to Jimmy, her expression never changing. Kris couldn’t tell if she was elated or beyond angry. The answer was neither. She was utterly shocked.

“I just….” Tori attempted to continue her thoughts but she had yet to complete a sentence. Jimmy just sat there cool as a cucumber with a smirk on his face not saying anything. Kris could tell he was enjoying this moment very much. No one else was exactly jumping at the chance to chime in either. Finally a synapse in Tori’s brain connected. “What is HE doing here?” she asked, directing the question at no one in particular. Now the anger seemed to be setting in.

“C’mon, Tor, you know I’m not here to cause any problems. It’s obvious you’re very much in love with…Simon is it?” Jimmy got up off the couch and walked toward her. “I’m here to help your family pull this three ring circus together is all. Believe me, this is strictly a business trip. I’m here as your mom’s personal assistant.” By the time Jimmy said the last word he was practically toe-to-toe with Tori and was looking down at her with that same smirk on his face. The fact that she didn’t move an inch made Kris start thinking they had been in close proximity before. Tori continued to stare up at him, holding his gaze. It seemed like they were having an entire conversation without saying a word.

Kris looked at MJ. She too seemed to be enjoying this but was doing a much better job at covering it up. AV, on the other hand, looked extremely uncomfortable with what was occurring as her eyebrow was furrowed with worry. Kris tried to get Adam’s attention but he was as enthralled with what has transpiring as anyone. Who is this guy? Kris wondered again. This “Jimmy” shows up and all hell breaks loose.

“Well,” said Tori, her face changing instantly to a smile as if she had snapped her mask back on, “I guess we do need someone to go around the lawn and make sure there isn’t any dog poop there before the ceremony.” Then she forced out a laugh and turned on her heel back toward the microwave where her cold waffles still awaited her.

Jimmy chuckled under his breath. “As a lawyer I’m fully trained in dealing with every one else’s shizz so that is the perfect job for me,” he said as he returned to the couch. Kris covered his mouth unceremoniously so Jimmy wouldn’t be able to see him smile. The last thing he wanted is for Jimmy to know he thought that was funny. After all, Kris still wasn’t sure if this guy was his mortal enemy or not.

The group continued their discussion regarding that afternoon’s activity of going to a movie. AV decided she wanted to see the 4:20pm showing of “Paul Blart: Mall Cop.” Kris had already seen it. Twice. He didn’t tell anyone that though. AV said she wanted something that adults would like but that the Spawns of Satan would sit still through as well. Kris piped up and said he had “heard” that “Paul Blart” fit that bill. Tori sat at the kitchen table, eating her waffles in silence.

Kris sat in the theater watching the pre-preview ads on the big screen. He answered all the movie trivia questions correctly in his head as Freddy Willy/Jeffy and Jeffy/Willy sat and yelled out “Paul Blart!” as the answer to each question. They found it to be hilarious. The people in front of them didn’t and got up and moved. Kris hoped the eight empty seats in between he and the boys were enough to send the message “they’re not with me.” He would much rather the other people in the theater think he was here to see “Paul Blart” by himself.

Due to an unfortunate series of events, he had ended up with the Spawns of Satan in his car on the way to the theater. And ONLY the Spawns of Satan. Adam decided not to come and Uncle Jeb had to head back to Bakersfield to work for a couple of days. The rest of the party—MJ, AV, Tori, and Jimmy rode in Jimmy’s rented Cadillac Escalade. Apparently Tori had called Simon begging him to go but Simon insisted he needed to put in some hours at Chuck E. Cheese’s in order to pay for this “bloody wedding.”

So here Kris sits, waiting for MJ to arrive, with nothing to do but ponder what his next move should be…. and answer the movie trivia questions flashing up on the screen, of course.

Kris had had girlfriends before. Certainly he had. High school girlfriends who seemed so effortless. They were there and then they weren’t. No big deal. He’d kiss some but not others. Girls he had met at various places that he would text with for a while and then forget about. He had dated one girl, Jeni, for about 8 months once. That was the longest he had ever dated anyone. She was adorable and extremely friendly but Kris wasn’t in a place where he could commit to her long-term. He never truly opened up to her and, while he liked spending time with her, he always seemed to keep her at arm’s length. She wanted more than he was willing to give and so she moved on. Kris was sad but it was for the best. He didn’t love her. She deserved better. Kris was over it in about three hours. He had heard recently that she was engaged to a nice guy named Michael and they were moving to Arizona… happily ever after.

Tom Hanks, Kris thought in response to the trivia question “Which blockbuster movie star got his start on the small screen in the TV series “Bosom Buddies?”

“PAUL BLART!” yelled the boys.

After Jeni, Kris had started to wonder if there was something wrong with him. He would lay on his bed, looking at the stars, and ask himself the tough questions. Why couldn’t he make himself love this girl who so obviously loved him? Would he ever allow himself to connect to another? Was he dead inside? He was starting to worry that his first love, music, was so intense that no one was going to be able to compete with that and he would die alone. With his guitar.

“PAUL BLART!” he heard the boys say and Kris looked at the screen again. Sixteen Candles, Kris said in his head answering the question “Which rat pack movie of the 1980s ended with Samantha kissing Jake Ryan over a birthday cake?”

Then that fateful day occurred when he had seen the Olan Mills picture on Adam’s wall and his entire perspective changed. For that brief moment he let someone else in. Granted, it was simply the idea of this person, but it was enough to chink his armor and pierce his soul. The fact that Tori turned out to be a) engaged to his manager and b) a completely shallow, high-maintenance princess were merely details. Details which were overshadowed by Kris’ realization that he did have it in him to need something else in his life besides music. His realization that another human being could rock him to his core. His realization that, not only did he need it, he wanted it. And now, it is through that chink in the proverbial armor that MJ had been seeping. Kris hadn’t understood until recently, but she had been there this whole time slowly and steadily entering his blood stream and hanging onto his platelets heading straight for his heart. He was dependent on her now. Practically addicted to MJ.

As if right on cue MJ interrupted Kris’ thoughts by bumping his leg a little as she attempted to come into the row he was saving in the movie theater. He looked up and saw her looking down at him with the rest of the family behind her. Kris hadn’t even thought of how to make sure he was sitting by her during the movie. Best case scenario would be to be in between MJ and Jimmy as he still hadn’t figured out what their story was, but he had no time to figure out how to make that happen now.

At first Kris tucked his knees in a bit to let her by, but then realized she was most likely going to go down the row and sit by her brothers in order to make it easier for everyone else to come in and sit down. Right as MJ was in front of him and about to squeeze by Kris made his decision go down there first, thus ensuring a seat by MJ. He stood up quickly and awkwardly and found himself in a full body press with MJ.

MJ looked at him and raised that beloved eyebrow. “Tight squeeze here, huh?” she said.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll just, uh…” Kris stammered while feeling the whole of MJ’s body against his own. “I’ll just head down here, you know, to make it easier. For people to, you know, get by.”

“Good idea,” MJ said and she looked back at Jimmy who was right behind her. Kris had torn himself away from her and was heading down the row when he looked back. It was dark in the theater, so he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw MJ roll her eyes.

Kris hurried down the row and took his new seat next to Willy (he was pretty sure he had figured out Willy was the youngest one now) and, as if he had planned it all along, MJ sat down next to him. Then Jimmy. Then AV. Then Tori. He quickly glanced down at Tori and saw her sitting there with her arms folded and not saying a word as AV, Jimmy and MJ chatted away about this and that in regards to the wedding. MJ’s back was turned completely toward him.

From what Kris could gather there were only a few loose ends that needed to be done for the big day. Apparently Simon had been unsuccessful at getting a DJ. Jimmy had a friend of a friend who he thought could probably fill in and he would send him a text right now. Jimmy got out his iPhone and Kris winced. He thought he at least had THAT over Jimmy. They also needed to make the final decision about the cake and solidify the seating arrangements at the reception. Otherwise, he heard AV say, everything else seemed to be falling into place nicely.

It was odd to Kris that Tori continued to sit motionless through the entire conversation. It was her wedding after all. She looked positively miserable sitting down there like that. Since there was still a good five minutes before the movie started, and he wasn’t contributing anything to the wedding conversation either, he decided to send Tori a text.

Kris: Hey. R U not feeling well? You look all frowny-facey.

Kris tried to text to her in her “native tongue.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as she dug around in her purse for her phone. She got it out and read it and then glanced down at him before replying. Kris set his phone to silent. The movie was about to begin, after all.

Tori: My life is poop right now. I h8 that cames for mine welding!

Kris: Who? Jimmy?

Tori: YES! He has major nervous for coming. I’m soooooo pizzzzzzed.

Kris: Why? He seems like he’s here to help.

Kris hoped she would answer some questions he had about Jimmy’s involvement in the family, and MJ in particular, but he didn’t get them. Kris watched as Tori read his last text. She just shook her head and snapped her phone shut throwing it back in her purse. Apparently she wasn’t kidding about being “pizzzzzzed.”

Kris slid his iPhone back into his pocket and the lights dimmed even more as the previews began. He felt something hit his face and turned to see Jeffy’s follow through after thowing a piece of popcorn. Then Freddy threw one and it hit MJ on the arm. MJ reached down and picked up an old Mike & Ike off the floor and threw it back. It hit Freddy in the eye. Freddy yelled out as he covered the assaulted eye, fighting back tears. No more popcorn was thrown.

MJ now sat facing forward in her chair with her hands resting on the top of her legs. She shifted a little in her seat and then put one arm up on the armrest between her and Kris. He looked down at her bare skin just inches away from his arm. They were both wearing short sleeves. He knew holding her hand was probably out of the question right now but if he could just put his arm up on that armrest…he just wanted to feel the warmth of her skin on his. Even if it was just a 3x3 inch square of warm skin. He wanted it. That armrest was 50% his, after all. It wouldn’t be that out-of-the-ordinary to try and use it, would it?

He decided to wait just a minute until she was nice and comfortable in that position before attempting anything. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so inclined to take her arm down if his were to enter the picture. His timer was the previews. He told himself that after the previews were over and the feature film began he would make his move.

Do they really show this many previews at movies these days? Freakin A! Kris started to panic. Each passing moment made him more and more nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time they showed this many previews. MJ’s warm arm was beckoning him but Kris stood firm and in control. He had a plan and was sticking to it.

Just as Kris thought the previews would go on forever, they ended and the opening music for “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” began. Kris took a deep breath and shifted in his seat to make it seem like he was simply needing a more comfortable seating arrangement. He put his arm up on the armrest but felt nothing but the textured plastic of the chair underneath his arm.

Kris’ eyes darted over to MJ and he saw the reason he had no skin-to-skin contact with MJ to savor right now. It seems that Jimmy had a plan of his own. At the exact moment that Kris moved his arm up, Jimmy had stretched his right arm across MJ’s shoulders. She had now shifted her entire body toward Jimmy and had her head resting on his shoulder. Kris groaned inwardly. The most gut wrenching part was the look on her face. It was the look of pure happiness.

Kris slumped down so his head could rest on the back of his seat and took another deep breath. This one wasn’t to calm his nerves, however. It was to keep him from screaming in frustration. He watched the rest of the movie that way.

Jimmy never took his arm off MJ.

INTERMISSION

2009-06-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

What? We can't leave you hanging like this! Wait! Who is this Jimmy guy? Why is MJ so chummy with him? When will Kris run his fingers through his amazing hair again? Will AV pull this wedding off?

I know.

I know.

But we need to take a little break here.

The genius that is GITYD needs to simmer, stew, roast.... and stuff.

It won't be a long break, but we'd hate for you to keep checking back a hundred times a day hoping for a new chapter only to be disappointed again and again.

In the mean time, put this:

on your blog with a link and leave a message in the comments. Or just do one of those things. Or neither, really. Whatever you want.

Just come back and enjoy Kris' journey once the intermission is over.

We'll dim the lights a couple of times to let you know when to return to your seats.

Forever Yours in GITYD,

Jespy & Landee

Chapter 18: Favorites

2009-06-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

by Jespy

When Kris got to the top of Adam’s staircase, he stopped. In addition to the master bedroom and Adam’s bedroom, there were eight possible guest bedrooms, and the doors were closed to three of them. Walking down the hall, he peeked into the rooms that were open and saw suitcases in every one, including his usual crashing ground, the world atlas room. Clearly, he wasn’t the only bachelor partygoer who had planned to stay the night, and some of them had to be out-of-towners, judging by the size of those suitcases. Maybe that was why Gityd and MJ had come to share a room last night.

Kris groaned when he thought about MJ being subjected to him texting Gityd all night. He knew that was why she’d been mad at him when he first saw her this morning. After all, he’d pretty much made-out with her only hours before that texting all-nighter. To top it off, he’d sent her that stupid text right at the end… she must think he was some sort of player—if that were possible. In truth, at the time, he was just confused. He wasn’t anymore.

And then he’d sung that stupid song and made her cry.

That was the last reaction he had expected from her. He knew she loved that song, and loved hearing him sing it in particular, and that was exactly the reason he’d sang to her. He’d figured, best-case scenario, she would forgive him for acting like a jagbag the night before and talk to him again, and worst-case scenario, she would stay mad. But the tears? That changed everything. It made him start to think that maybe MJ had stronger feelings for him than he realized. Stronger than some schoolgirl crush. Maybe MJ felt the same way about him, as Kris had felt about Gityd?

The only problem with that conclusion was that Kris now understood that he’d been in love with an idea… the girl in the yellow dress… but not with an actual person. The more he’d gotten to know the real girl… Tori… the more it began to dawn on him that he wasn’t in love with her at all. So, did that mean MJ would eventually reach the same conclusion? Would she realize that she’d only been in love with a voice recording, and not an actual person? Had she already figured it out? After getting to know the real Kris, had it dawned on her that she could barely stand him, let alone love him?

If that were the case, he would just have to change her mind. And he had all the time in the world. Since he didn’t have a job.

Kris stopped in the hall right before the three closed doors on the end, and leaned his shoulder against the wall. Pulling out his iPhone, he went to his “phone” app, and selected her name. Then he scrolled down and tapped the button “add to favorites.” He went to his favorites list to make sure she showed up on there, and she had. Then he deleted everyone else from that list, including his mom and Adam. She was the only one on his list now. It was official. She was his favorite person.

Kris sent a text to his favorite person: I’m right outside your door. Then he waited, not necessarily expecting a reply. But he got one.

Doodledoot.

MJ: How thrilling for you.

Kris texted back: It is, actually.

There was a long pause before she sent him the next text.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Listen, I need to get to Tori’s bridal shower before she freaks, so is it OK if I walk out this door and we pretend like nothing weird has happened between us? I don’t have the time or the desire to discuss feelings or anything. I’m over it.

Kris texted back: I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

A beat later, the middle door opened, and out came MJ. Kris pushed away from the wall and smiled at her. “Hey, MJ, where ya headed?”

She smiled back but couldn’t hold eye contact with him for more than a second before looking away. Her eyes were about as puffy and red as his had looked that morning, but he put the reason for it completely out of his head, as promised. “I’m on my way to my sister’s bridal shower,” she said. “I’m late. Missed the facial, but not the bridal hair styles, which is just my luck.”

Kris walked in step with her toward the stairs. She set a brisk pace.

“I’m not feeling too lucky tonight, either,” he said, letting her take the stairs in front of him, and then following her one-step behind. He was about to suggest they ditch their separate parties and try turning their luck around together, when someone called MJ’s name.

“Mary Jane? Is that you?”

She stopped three stairs from the bottom, and her expression transformed from one of careful indifference, to one of unrestrained joy. “Jimmy? No! Way!”

She leaped down the last three steps and fell into his waiting arms.

Kris eyed this tall, dark-haired Jimmy-fellow, who looked maybe a few years older than himself, and hoped he was a long lost relative of MJ’s, but he had a feeling they weren’t related. It wasn’t the arms that worried him, so much as the hands.

MJ’s hands were threaded through Jimmy’s fashionably longish hair. Jimmy’s hands had found purchase on her lower back, one above the other, and as MJ pulled back to look up at him, they slid down to rest at her hips. Familiarly.

Kris’s heart felt like a ten-pound weight, and it sunk down into the pit of his stomach.

“I can’t believe you’re here! Mom said you couldn’t make it,” MJ said.

“I got out of the case at the last minute. Our client changed his mind and decided to take the plea-bargain. I flew in this afternoon. Are you surprised?”

Kris was surprised. This guy was a lawyer? He looked too young.

“Yes! I’m surprised! Oh my gosh, Jimmy, it’s been so long. You’re taller,” she said, reaching up to hug him again.

“Ah, that must be it. At first I thought you'd gotten shorter.”

She laughed, and then she must have remembered Kris standing on stairs behind her, because she pulled away, glanced back at him, and said, “Oh sorry, Jimmy. This is Kris. Adam’s friend.”

Adam’s friend? Not her friend? That was a tough pill to swallow, and Kris clinched his jaw to keep from spitting it back out.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Jimmy said briefly, sparing him an uninterested glance. Then squeezed MJ’s waist and said to her, “Ditch that lame bridal shower and come out with me.”

“I wish,” she said, and she sounded like she meant it. “Tori would flip out!”

“Ah. True. I bet she’s in her glory, getting all that undivided attention.”

“You have no idea!” MJ said. “Jimmy, she’s worse that ever. A royal pain in the A. And I’m worried about how fast things are moving with this wedding.”

Jimmy nodded, his brow creasing with concern.

“But I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” she said, stretching up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

The ten-pound weight in Kris’s stomach sunk lower. The kiss on the cheek didn’t bother him as much the relief he heard in her voice. She needed someone to confide in, a friend she could trust, and that person was not Kris. He was just Adam’s friend. In fact, it was likely that he was someone she needed to vent about to a friend.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “You better wait up for me.”

“I will,” he promised, and then he finally peeled those hands away from her hips.

“Bye, Kris,” she waved back at him and then dashed out the front door, leaving Kris and Jimmy standing alone.

Kris cleared his throat.

Jimmy said, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Chad.”

“It’s Kris,” he corrected, but Jimmy was already walking toward the Texas Hold ‘Em tables.

Kris decided to avoid the poker tables. It was not his lucky night.

It was 10:34am, Adam’s house was trashed, and, judging from how late that party ended last night, most of his house guests weren’t due to wake up for another few hours. Kris had one of those nights when you wake up and wonder if you had slept at all. Part of him had wanted to wait up for MJ for the chance to see her again, and another part had wanted to give her some time alone with a person who she was obviously close to. He eventually decided to give her some space, and he suspected that that was why he never really relaxed and fell into a deep sleep: he was at odds with himself. It also might have had something to do with the fact that he’d slept on the floor by Adam’s bed.

The moment he woke up, he was antsy see MJ. He took a few minutes to brush his teeth, and then he went directly downstairs to the kitchen. He could smell the waffles from upstairs, and sure enough, AV was making a big waffle breakfast, like the one she’d made when Kris had first met her.

“Morning,” he said.

AV gave him a quick smile over her shoulder. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly. He made a b-line for Adam’s fridge, grabbing a Slim*Fast and a Diet Coke. Breakfast.

Then MJ came into the kitchen wearing striped pajama bottoms and a white V-neck, carrying a dustpan full of broken glass in one hand and a broom in the other. “I keep finding piles of glass in the strangest places,” she said by way of greeting.

As far as Kris was concerned, her greeting belonged on a Hallmark card. He’d never felt more uplifted.

“Let me take that,” he said, forgetting about breakfast and relieving her of the dustpan. He pulled an empty black garbage bag from a box in Adam’s pantry, shook it out, and dumped the glass inside. Then he began rounding up other trash and debris, littering the counter tops. There was no way he’d let MJ or AV get stuck cleaning up this whole mess. MJ took his cue and sat down at the breakfast bar.

“How was your bridal shower?” he asked, blindly tossing half-empty cans into his trash bag. He wanted to kiss her.

“It was Tori’s bridal shower, not mine. And it turned out as exactly as Tori hoped it would, I’m sure, ending in purple nail polish.” She picked some of the polished off her thumbnail.

“If it was your bridal shower, how would you want it to go?” Kris asked, sweeping a pile of discarded paper plates into his open bag, unknowingly throwing away one of Adam’s mom’s knickknacks in the process.

AV glanced back at them with a raised brow, making Kris self-conscience of his question. He hadn’t meant anything by it, he just wanted to know something new about her.

She shrugged and said, “I’ve never thought about it.”

The way she looked down, made Kris think that she had thought about it, but he didn’t press her. He bent to pick up scattered half-eaten bags of chips and food wrappers. Who does this? he thought. Who finishes a Twinkie, and then tosses the wrapper on the floor like this?

Kris was about to ask MJ more about her night, and about her life and her hopes and her dreams, when Jimmy came in, freshly showered.

“Morning,” he said. And it seemed as if it was morning because he’d declared it so.

Kris had to admit; there was something tangibly cool about Jimmy.

He went straight to AV and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “None for me, thanks,” he said, kissing her cheek.

AV added another waffle to her tower, smiled, and said, “Still eating an apple a day, Jimmy?”

In reply, he took an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island, casually dropped it, gently tossed it back up in the air with the tip of his foot, and caught it easily in his hand.

Kris realized he was staring, so he made his way into the adjoining family room, finding more cans and paper plates and wrappers to collect.

Jimmy followed right behind and folded his tall frame onto the couch. He propped his socked feet up on the coffee table—not in an I-own-the-place way, but in an I-belong-wherever-I-am way. “MJ,” he said, patting the cushion next to him and then slinging his arm along the back of the couch. MJ came in and collapsed into the cozy cocoon he’d made just for her.

As Kris collected a row of paper cups from the fireplace mantle, he felt Jimmy watching him.

“So, it’s Kris, right?”

Kris turned and met Jimmy’s clear gaze.

Yep, he knows all there is to know about me, Kris thought. He just hoped MJ hadn’t been too hard on him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kris said, knocking another knickknack into his trash bag, and then digging it back out.

“I think I called you Chad last night. Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he said.

AV left her waffle station and strode into the family room. “That’s enough, Kris. Sit down and relax. You can clean later, if you want.” Then she pried his security blanket/trash bag out of his grip.

Rubbing his pant legs, he sat down on the edge of a floral armchair across from Jimmy and MJ. A silence followed, and Kris felt the need to fill it with a bunch of “anyways” and “wells” and “sos,” but Jimmy just sat there eating his apple, his arm around MJ, comfortable with the silence among them, while MJ concentrated on removing every speck of purple nail polish from her thumbnail. Kris wanted to hold her hand.

Finally, Jimmy said, “MJ and I were thinking Carol could use a break from all the work she’s been doing—”

“Who’s Carol?” Kris interrupted.

MJ said, “My mom.”

“AV?” Kris asked.

Jimmy managed to roll his eyes without actually rolling his eyes—it was impressive—and he said, “She’s Carol to me, but yes, Carol and AV are one and the same. As I was saying, we think she needs a break, so we’re taking her out to the movies this afternoon. Why don’t you come with us?”

Why did Kris feel like he was getting a personal invite to the most important party of the year from the coolest kid in school?

He glanced at MJ, who was still chipping away at that polish, and said, “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Sure. I’ll go. Sounds like a lot of fun. What movie?”

Jimmy took a bite out of his apple. Then he chewed it and then he swallowed it. “I think we’ll let Carol decide," he said.

Kris nodded, but Jimmy wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was looking at MJ. He asked her, “Want me to run to the store and get you some nail polish remover, or are you doing that for entertainment purposes?”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

Jimmy set his apple core on a used paper plate on the end table beside him, and then he separated MJ’s hands, entwining his fingers with hers. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her chipped nail polish.

Kris stared at their joined hands, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. At that moment, he had never wanted anything more in his life, than to sit where Jimmy was sitting and hold MJ’s hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from their hands, but at the same time, he couldn’t bear to watch this either.

He stood abruptly. “I’m going to get you some nail polish remover,” he said, as if he were announcing a flight across Pacific, rather than a drive to the nearest Walgreens.

“If it bothers you, Kris, I won’t hold her hand.”

“Jimmy!” MJ said, blushing.

“What? He was clearly bothered. I’m just trying to make him feel more comfortable.”

“You’re making him uncomfortable, and you know it,” MJ said, without looking at Kris, getting up from the couch. “I’ll borrow some of Tori’s nail polish remover. I’m sure she has gallons of it.”

When she was gone, Kris sat back down and said, “It does bother me, so I’ll accept your offer, if you really meant it.”

Jimmy just smiled.

Eventually, Adam’s other house guests began to trickle into the kitchen and partake of AV’s breakfast. Simon ate and left, taking a good portion of the guests with him, without even a half-hearted offer to help clean up the mess left from the night before. He claimed he had some wedding things to take care of, but when AV pressed him for details, wanting to help, Simon couldn’t come up with anything. Adam came down after Simon left, took one look at the state of his house (which didn’t look near as bad as it had when Kris had come down, as he and the Spawns of Satan had spent at least a solid hour cleaning) and declared he was going back to bed. Thirty minutes later, however, he was back downstairs, mopping the kitchen floor.

With everyone pitching in, including MJ and AV, the house was put back to it’s original state by 1:04pm, and they determined that the only permanent damage was a large stain on the carpet in the family room where the final Texas hold ‘em table had been set up.

“Oh yeah. Simon spilt his drink,” Adam said, moving an armchair to cover the stain, even though it blocked the fireplace. “He said it was an accident, but I think he was just mad that Jimmy beat him.”

Jimmy made no comment.

“You won?” AV said, delighted.

“Who else?” Adam said, sitting in his newly positioned armchair.

Kris didn’t know how well Adam knew Jimmy. Last night, all he’d said was that Jimmy was an old family friend. He would have to ask him for more details when he had a chance. He was confused about Jimmy’s relationship with MJ. They were definitely close friends, but Kris knew (from reading her blog) that she hadn’t had a boyfriend or even kissed anyone before him. Still, he was worried there might be deeper feelings between them. And he couldn’t compete with Jimmy.

They had all gathered in the family room, taking some time to relax after having worked so hard. Kris was the last one standing, and had to pull out the hard piano bench.

“That chair looks uncomfortable, Kris,” Jimmy said. “I promised MJ I wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, so we better make room for you on the couch.” He yanked MJ closer to himself, opening up a space between her and AV.

AV scooted away from her daughter. “Oh yes, come sit, Kris. There’s plenty of room.”

Kris took the offered seat, pretending not to notice MJ’s embarrassment, and then deflected the attention away from him, asking AV, “So what movie are we going to see?”

He passed her his iPhone, so she could use it to check movie times, and while they discussed their options, Kris thought about how much he wanted to hold MJ’s hand, and how close they were sitting, and how easy it would be to reach out and thread his fingers through hers. There was no way he would try it in the presence of all these people. Not only would it be awkward, but he also didn’t know if she wanted him to hold her hand. There was a strong possibility she would reject him flat out if he tried anything right now. He had confused things. Sent mixed signals. First, he would have to prove to her that he did not love her sister.

But the more he thought about sitting in a dark movie theater with MJ, the more he thought about holding her hand.

At 1:36pm, Tori dragged herself into the kitchen, not sparing a glance for the exhausted people in the family room, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and went straight for the a plate of cold waffles AV had set aside for her. After obsessing over her for so long, it felt strange for Kris to see her and feel absolutely nothing. Had he really drowned in those eyes? She wasn’t Gityd anymore, she was just Tori.

“You gize are sooooo loud,” she said putting her plate into the microwave. “I swear you woke me up a hundred times. I had to keep piling pillows on my head to block out the noise. Who was vacuuming? An-noy-ing.”

“That would be me,” said Jimmy, lifting his hand.

Tori’s hand froze in front of the microwave buttons. She turned and took a few steps toward the voice. “Jimmy?” she whispered, the blood completely draining from her face.

“You didn’t think I’d miss your wedding, did you Sweetheart?”

Chapter 17: Chest Pains

2009-06-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

MJ kept her head down the entire song. At one point Kris had said “Sing the harmony with me, Mary Jane” but she had simply shook her head a little and kept her eyes down.

Kris sang the last refrain “Take this sinking boat and point it home/We've still got time/Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice/You've made it now/Falling slowly sing your melody/I'll sing along…” and finished out the song on the guitar never taking his eyes off the top of MJ’s head.

When he strummed the last cord AV said “That was absolutely beautiful, Kris” and his mom clapped teeny little short and quiet claps, grinning from ear to ear. Kris continued to look at MJ.

She finally did look up after a few painfully long moments. Kris felt like his heart was literally being torn from his hairless chest. She wore a pained smile on her face as if she was attempting to cover up a deep, unseen wound and her eyes were filled with tears. She looked up at the ceiling trying to keep them from spilling over but it was no use. As soon as she blinked a single tear rolled down each of her cheeks.

Her chair made a loud noise as she stood up and forced it backward. She grabbed the keys off the table in front of her and ran to the front door, wiping her eyes as she went. She opened and closed the door quickly and was gone. Kris struggled to get the guitar strap off from around his shoulder and then ran after her.

By the time he reached her she was already in the white minivan and had locked all the doors. Kris banged on the window. “MJ! Please! Just talk to me! I’m sorry, ok? Please!” the desperation in his voice rising with each word. MJ started the car without looking up at him. He could see that her tears flowed freely now. He tried the door handle to no avail and returned to banging on the window and begging. MJ put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway as if Kris didn’t exist.

Kris stood on the driveway, shoeless and hopeless, with his fingers interlocked behind his head and watched her drive away. He felt the choke of emotion rise up in his throat but kept it at bay with a few deep breaths. This can’t be happening, Kris thought, breathing in and out as if he just got done running a marathon. How could I have just done that to her? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Now Kris realized it was the worst idea ever in the history of bad ideas. He had taken advantage of her by using information that she had both shared with him and some that she hadn’t. The thought occurred to him that he may have just messed up the best thing that had ever happened to him and he’d never feel those soft, memory foam pillows on his lips again. He had no idea what to do.

Kris suddenly remembered the text MJ had sent that he hadn’t read yet. He slipped his iPhone from his back pocket and pressed the home button.

MJ: I’m trying to pretend like it never happened. We’ll both be happier that way.

His heart, which had already been chopped up in a Pampered Chef chopper and torn from his chest ala Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom now felt like it was getting stomped on like a wooden floorboard at a hoedown. He squatted down on the driveway and put his head in his hands. She hates me, he thought. It’s all over.

After a few minutes Kris composed himself and went back inside. He found his mom and AV sitting at the kitchen table and talking quietly as they addressed the wedding invitations. His guitar was nowhere in sight. His mom must have put it away realizing he would be in no mood to continue making good on his coupon. No doubt she had noted the time, however, and would make him cough up the other 22 minutes at a future time of her choosing. Janice took her coupons very seriously, almost as if they were a legally binding contract.

Kris sat down at his spot at the table and looked at the first address on his list. He grabbed an envelope and a pen. He knew what he was supposed to do…re-write the name and address right here on to the envelope right there…but he couldn’t make himself do it. He just sat and stared at the address, pen in hand and poised over the blank envelope. His mind was dark and he couldn’t form coherent thoughts. “It’s over” and “What have I done?” just kept repeating in his mind like a broken record.

He felt a warm hand on his arm and looked up. AV’s piercing blue eyes were wide and sincere. “Kris, honey,” she said. “Don’t give up, ok? She’s worth it. Don’t. Give. Up.” She squeezed his arm and raised her eyebrows looking for a response to make sure he had understood her. Kris nodded his head slightly and furrowed his brow. He closed his eyes and they felt so much better that way. His indulgent-nonsense-texting-all-nighter with Gityd was hitting him like a ton of bricks. “You look tired, sweetie,” AV continued. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest a while. I’ll finish these up, don’t worry.”

“And I’ll help,” Janice chimed in.

Kris nodded again looking as if he was in a complete daze. He stood up slowly and made his way back upstairs to his room. He slowly lay down on his bed grabbing a pillow and holding it close to his chest as if he could protect the tender rawness that existed there now. He closed his eyes and slept.

11am

12pm

1pm

2pm

3pm

4pm

5:42pm

Doodledoot.

Kris awoke, startled by the buzz and noise that came from his back pocket. It quickly buzzed and doodledooted again and again. He snatched out his phone before he could even begin to hope as to who it was. He pressed the home button.

Adam: Dood, where u be at?

Adam: ^^^ that’s Gangsta Adam talkin’.

Adam: But srsly, are you coming tonight or not? It starts at 7pm at my house. All the girls will be gone & I promise no male strippers. Simon would kill me.

Kris had completely forgotten about the bachelor party Adam had been planning for Simon. Kris knew this was more of a career move on Adam’s part rather than an act of friendship. Adam was smart. He knew that if Simon had his best interest at heart then he’d always be the one Simon promoted the most. Kris also knew that Simon wasn’t exactly an idiot. Simon obviously saw through Adam’s tactics and allowed it anyway. He was not above accepting gifts and generous acts of kindness with no promises in return. Kris just couldn’t bring himself to kiss Simon’s butt the way Adam did. And it had nothing to do with his heterosexuality.

Kris sighed and stretched out on his bed, still completely exhausted, and contemplated his answer. He did not want to go. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to go and hobnob with a bunch of Simon’s friends. On the other hand, he had to go if he at all wanted to continue the manager/artist relationship. He already was feeling like he was walking on thin ice with Simon lately, what with quitting CEC and then drooling over his fiancée. Not going to his bachelor party would send him plunging into the icy abyss, no questions asked.

Kris wanted to stall a little on committing to go, as breaking ties with Simon wouldn’t totally be the end of the world right now. Plus, he had bigger things to worry about. He replied to Adam: Have you seen MJ today?

Doodledoot.

Adam: No. Your mom brought AV home a couple of hours ago. AV said MJ was out doing wedding errands all day. I figured she was with you.

Kris: No. Not with me. Let me know if she comes home, mkay? I’ll be to your place at 7.

Adam: Aws. It’s gonna be a good time. I didn’t want be stuck here by myself with all of Simon’s british jagbag friends. You won’t regret it.

Kris knew that last sentence was false. He would regret it just as he had regretted everything he had done since seeing that picture of Gityd and throwing all common sense out the window. But he was worried about MJ. AV was obviously covering for her. He hoped that she at least knew where MJ was but didn’t want everyone else to know.

Kris was actually glad to have a reason to be at Adam’s house tonight. He guessed MJ would show up there eventually and he would stay there until she did. He’d sleep in the walk-in atlas room again if he had to. All he wanted to do was see MJ and know that she was all right and then make sure that they were all right.

Kris took a shower, forgoing the Axe Body Spray, and threw on a pair perfectly fitting jeans, a stylin’ t-shirt and leather flip-flops. He knew Adam would appreciate his efforts. He threw an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush in a duffle bag just in case. He then yelled to his mom that he might be sleeping at Adam’s again and headed out the door.

Just as Kris was about to pull out of his driveway he hurried and put his Suzuki XL7 back into park and ran back into his house. He grabbed his guitar put it in the back of his car. If this bachelor party turned into another one of Adam’s ploys to get everyone to do karaoke he wasn’t going to be caught without his guitar again. Even though he was good without it, he was a million times better with it. Plus, it was almost like a security blanket for him. He just felt better if he had his guitar with him. He needed that tonight.

Kris arrived at Adam’s house a little after 7:30pm. The white minivan was missing as well as Adam’s cherry red Mazda. There were about twenty other cars there, however, that Kris didn’t recognize. He parked down the street a bit and walked up to Adam’s house leaving his guitar and duffle bag behind. He didn’t want to seem presumptuous about spending the night or doing karaoke but was glad he had prepared for both.

Kris knocked on the door and then let himself in. It was obvious that Adam had really outdone himself in the party planning department this time. The entire place had been transformed into a casino complete with two huge poker tables and two professional dealers standing behind them. All the curtains had been drawn blocking out what was remaining of the evening light. It was completely dark with single lights shining down on each of the tables. Kris could make out cocktail waitresses in skimpy outfits walking around with trays in their hands. Kris immediately wondered how much of their demo tape savings Adam had blown on this gig and shook his head. One of the waitresses came over and handed Kris a tray of poker chips and ushered him further into the house.

Kris could now see that there were several people already playing Texas Hold ‘Em at one of the tables. One person he recognized was Uncle Jeb. He was peeking at his two cards, which were face down on the table in front of him, like he was Amarillo Slim or something. Kris suspected he had watched the World Series of Poker on ESPN to learn the card-peeking nuance of Texas Hold ‘Em as Uncle Jeb didn’t seem the poker type.

The spread of food Adam had on the kitchen island was a sight to behold. He had all kinds of “man foods” laid out….buffalo wings, mozzarella sticks, mini egg rolls… pretty much anything off a Chili’s appetizer menu. He also had some cucumber finger sandwiches and veggies and dip for those more health conscience men. Those remained untouched. As Kris was admiring the presentation of food Adam came up from behind and grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him violently.

“There you are!” Adam exclaimed. “I was beginning to think you were ditching me with all these breeders.”

“Breeders is such a lame slur for heteros,” Kris replied. “I’ve told you that before. It’s like when people call white people ‘crackers.’ It’s like ‘so?”

“Well, until we come up with something else at least pretend to be offended by it, k? It’s all we’ve got,” Adam said as he picked up a piece of broccoli and ate it. “So… what do you think, eh?” he asked, raising his arms up and turning side to side like he was one of the Barker girls on the Price is Right.

“Amazing, Adam. Really. I didn’t think you could top your Project Runway finale party of 2007 but I was wrong. If your singing career doesn’t turn out you should definitely look into event planning.”

“Ha! ‘If my singing career doesn’t turn out….’ Good one, my friend. Good one,” Adam said, clapping Kris on the shoulder.

The conversation lulled and Kris took his opportunity. “So…. where are all the girls tonight?”

“They are doing a spa night. AV is treating everyone to facials and pedicures. This is also the salon where Tori will be getting her hair done for the wedding so they are going to be trying out a couple of different hair styles as well,” Adam said with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Ah, sounds nice…er….I assume (::clearing throat::) that MJ is with them?” Kris asked, as he filled a plate with food. He hoped he sounded more nonchalant than he was feeling as his chest felt tender and raw again at merely saying MJ’s name. Out loud. He had tried to text her several times since he woke up but he always ended up backspacing whatever he had typed out. No words “beetlebeeping” on her phone were going to help at this point. He needed to see her. He wanted to see her.

“No, actually. She wasn’t here with the group of them when they left….unless she is meeting them there or something,” Adam looked up at Kris suspiciously and paused. “What’s going on with you two anyway?”

“Huh? Oh…nothing, you know. I was just, you know, wondering…” Kris’ voice trailed off as Adam stood upright and looked him in the eye. It was no use lying to Adam, Kris knew, but he did not want to talk about it right now. So he looked away and bobbed his head slightly to the music that was playing in the background. Adam continued looking at him for a moment and then left it alone.

“Well, make yourself comfortable. The poker chips are free, obviously, but at the end of the night, the one with the most chips gets a sweet prize. I’m not telling what it is but believe me, you want it,” Adam said and then walked away into the crowd.

Between the time Kris had gotten there until now the amount of people had practically doubled. It was now difficult to get around the house without running into someone. Simon had arrived (fashionably late) to cheers from his friends and someone immediately put a fake ball and chain around his ankle.

There were so many people, in fact, that had Kris not been looking directly at the front door when it opened, she would probably have been able to slip in and out without anyone noticing her. But, as it happened, Kris was looking at the door. And he saw her.

MJ came in quickly and with her head down, making a beeline for the stairs. Kris watched her as she took two stairs at a time, apparently in a hurry or just trying to get upstairs before she was spotted. He practically threw down his plate on the nearest flat surface and headed up the stairs after her.

Chapter 16: Cigar in the Pocket

2009-06-09T06:00:00.000-07:00

by Jespy

Kris jumped at the sound of the incoming text. His iPhone illuminated on his nightstand, outshining all the constellations glued to his ceiling, like a giant supernova.

It had to be a text from MJ. She was the only person he could think of who would text him, rather than call. He propped himself up on his elbow and reached for his iPhone, careful not to disturb any of the surrounding clutter, both eager and nervous about what she had to say to him.

The text read: Are you awake?

Kris frowned. It didn’t say it was from MJ. In fact, it was not from anyone on his contacts list, just some random number, but maybe MJ was using someone else’s phone. To be sure, he replied: Is this MJ?

A few minutes passed with no response, and he started to wonder if maybe it was just a wrong number. Disappointment leaked into his senses as he watched his screen fade and then completely blackout.

Perhaps it was for the best. He wanted to talk to MJ, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to her, beyond more words of apology. He just wanted things between them to be light and friendly again. He was losing sleep over that blog post she had written. He felt like a jagbag for even reading something so personal. Those words were not intended for him; she only wrote them after believing she had successfully blocked her website from outside readers. He might as well have climbed in through her bedroom window while she slept, taken her diary from beneath the corner of her mattress, and picked the tiny lock with a toothpick. Would he want his innermost thoughts about his first kiss (which happened at the awkward age of 14, and ended with his gum caught in his girlfriend’s braces) publically posted on the WWW?

Still, knowing it was wrong, he had been unable to resist delving even further into places he didn’t belong, when he had noticed “2 comments” at the end of her post. The first comment came from “FaeriePryncessBride” (who Kris determined to be Gityd after clicking on the link), and it read: “O.M.Geeeeeeee. Ur blogs not privates doy and we have to talk." The second comment was identical to the first.

After reading Gityd’s comment (twice), Kris had tired backing up to MJ’s blog, and had gotten the message, “this blog is unavailable to uninvited readers.”

She had discovered her error, and her blog was no longer open to lurkers like himself. He was actually glad she had a private place to safely get her feelings out. Perhaps her next post would be entitled “None of your Beeswax,” and would describe how she feels about her sister reading the last post, which was meant to be private.

Thank Orion she didn’t know that Kris had also read her private post, as that would spare her a little embarrassment.

Her first kiss? Kris thought in wonder. Contrary to what she had written, Kris found her to be an exceptionally good kisser; at least, once she began to participate in it and actually kiss him back. It didn’t occur to him that she was inexperienced, only that she might be expressing her reluctance to kiss him. Well, her lack of experience made no difference; she was a natural born kisser. If Kris were interested in MJ in a romantic way, he would have a hard time keeping his lips off her. Maybe it would ease her embarrassment—and his guilty conscience—if he somehow let her know that she had performed outstandingly. Even being in love with her sister, Kris had enjoyed that kiss with MJ. Immensely.

Doodledoot.

Leapin’ Lizards, Kris thought, startled by the text after such a long delay. He searched through his tangled up sheets for his iPhone, and then propped himself up on his elbow.

The text read: No, silly! LOL! Its not MJ, its Tori! LOL! Are you awke?

Kris sat upright. Gityd? Gityd was texting him? What should he say? He started to text ten different things. He was curious how she had gotten his number, and why she was texting him at 1:39 in the morning, but he didn’t want to say something that would imply he was anything other than thrilled to get a text from her. Finally, he settled on texting back: Yes. I am awake.

Dootledoot.

Gityd’s reply: LOL! Me too! Im soooooooooo bored!!!

Kris stared at those words, at a complete loss of what to say next. It was 1:40am, she should be asleep, not bored. He texted back: Me too!

That turned out to be a mistake. Gityd continued to text him for the next two hours.

Normally, he would be overjoyed by such a scenario, but her texts were hard to read—she used so much nonsensical shorthand that he had to make himself a language key on the back of a receipt he found on his nightstand—and all she talked about was her wedding. Frankly, after an hour of it, he was bored out of his mind, and after two hours of it, he was fighting to stay awake. He just wanted to go to sleep, and see Gityd in the morning. All he had to do was send her a gentle text, explaining that he enjoyed texting her, but he had better get some sleep because he was supposed to help AV address wedding invitations in the morning, but if he had it his way, he would text her until the break of dawn… which wasn’t exactly true. But he couldn’t bring himself to end this conversation. He would just have to hope she would get tired soon and end it herself.

Then, at 3:43am, he did something stupid.

He had just gotten this text from Gityd: OhEMGeezers! I totelyt I was gonna say bout it I forgot ant legs! LOL!

As he tried to decode it, his thumb wandered over to his contacts page and found MJ. He tapped the “text” button, and then typed out this text: Are you awake? I want to talk to you.

The second his thumb left the send button, he regretted sending it. Not only because it was a stupid thing to say (of course she wasn’t awake, it was 3:44am!) but because it hadn’t even occurred to him that Gityd and MJ could be sharing a room.

Doodledoot.

From Gityd: O!M!GEE! MJ just got a test! Shes asleep, whos testing her? Im gonna grab her phone…

Kris cursed and jumped out of bed, as if he could run into the next room and stop Gityd from getting to MJ’s phone. He shot her a quick desperate text: NO! That will make MJ saddy face!

Doodledoot.

From Gityd: She won’t no. Sh sh. Trying to find it.

Kris sent a quick reply: She will no! She can tell if its been read!

Kris paced the floor, kicking discarded shoes and clothes out of his path, watching the screen of his iPhone like a hawk, and raking his hand through his head. The longer he waited for a reply, the more he was convinced that Gityd had found MJ’s phone and was reading the text he had sent her. Then…

Doodledoot.

From Gityd: Frowny face!!!!! Ur last text woke her up! She wont tell me who tested her, and shes angry face! Tells me to go sleep! Annoys much! Guess I better. See you AM!

Kris collapsed on his bed in relief. He had sent so many stupid texts lately, he swore to himself he would think twice before hitting that send button again. Without bothering to reach for his pillow, Kris fell asleep as he lay, diagonally across his mattress, on top of his bunched up covers. He had a frowny face on, because MJ had gotten his text, but she hadn’t replied.

Kris’s eyes were swollen and puffy from lack of sleep.

“Honey, did you have a rough night? You need some ice?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Kris answered, throwing back the last of his milk chocolate Slim*Fast.

Janice, Kris’s mom, puckered her brow, then got up from the breakfast table, marched to the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice. She took out a dishrag (and Kris knew it would be stinky, because all of her dishrags were stinky, even the clean ones) and wrapped up the ice, gathering the ends and twisting the bundle closed. “This will help,” she said, plopping the bundle over his eyes.

Kris winced. It felt like he was holding a bag of jagged rocks over his eyes, and that wasn’t soothing in the least, but he didn’t have the energy to argue with her. She could be a bit of a mother bear. He really should move out and get his own place. He’d have to think about it when things settled down. He had some money saved—the money he was going to use to get that demo recorded. He may as well start looking for a job, since his music career was going nowhere fast—he couldn’t even win a Karaoke contest.

It was 9:46am, and he had gotten about 4 hours of sleep last night. He was showered and dressed and ready to meet AV at Adam’s house, as he had promised to be there by 10:00am to help her address those wedding invitations, and MJ still hadn’t replied to his text.

He couldn’t stop wondering why. It took all his willpower to wait, and not send her another (possibly stupid) text. He kept opening the messaging screen on his iPhone and reading the text he had sent her at 3:44am. Are you awake? I want to talk to you. He sounded desperate, sending a text at that unreasonable hour. He wished he could replace the word “want” with the word “need.” Then it would at least seem as if he’d had an official business-type reason for texting her, and not only a desperate desire to talk to her.

Kris got up from the table and tossed the dishrag, ice and all, into the sink. His mom had gone to answer a knock at the door, and he needed to be on his way, anyway. He grabbed his keys from the counter, and looked down at his iPhone. What can it hurt now? he thought. I couldn’t sound more desperate than I already did last night. Maybe she’s just not up yet, and that’s why she hasn’t replied. So he typed out this text: MJ, when you get up, send me a text. I need to talk to you.

Just before he could hit send, he heard at ruckus coming from his front door.

“Kris! You have visitors!” his mom called. Then he heard her say, “The poor little guy woke up all puffy eyed this morning. I hope the dear hasn’t been crying. He’s my sensitive child…”

Then around the corner came AV and MJ. MJ was balancing a big box of stationary in one arm and a box of envelopes in the other, and he rushed forward to unburden her. She nodded in thanks, and he wondered why she hadn’t replied to his text. She was clearly awake.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind that we moved our little operation over here,” AV was saying to his mom. “Kris offered to help us address these invitations at 10:00, and everyone was still asleep at Adam’s place, except for me and MJ, and it just seemed silly to make Kris drive out to Adam’s again.”

Janice clasped her hands in delight. “Oh! Kris has the best penmanship. I must show you his calligraphy samples from school! He got a hundred percent on the project, and his teacher wrote a lovely note in the top corner.”

“Calligraphy!” AV said. “Kris, you didn’t tell me you could do calligraphy.”

Kris peeled his eyes away from MJ, who was looking everywhere but at him, and answered, “I wrote the alphabet in calligraphy once in sixth grade.”

Janice swatted her hand in the air and said, “Pish! He hates to brag. I’ll go see if I can find his writing sample so you can see for yourself. And I know I still have that calligraphy set somewhere.” Her eyes were wide with excitement as she squeezed AV’s arm and then dashed out of the kitchen.

“I know I’ve said this a dozen times, but Kris, you are a lifesaver! Thank you for helping us.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling at AV. He dropped the boxes on the kitchen table and helped her take out the envelopes and things.

“I can tell your mom is your biggest fan,” AV said, which was a nice way of saying that his mom was coo-coo for coco puffs.

Kris nodded at AV and wondered why MJ refused to look at him. It was annoying the crap outta him. She walked all the way around the table, squeezing through the tight space where his mom’s curio cabinet stuck out too far, and then sat down in the chair furthest from him.

AV organized everything into piles, sliding a stack across the table to MJ, and passing about a third of the invitations to him. She said, “I couldn’t get [Gityd] to budge this morning. She should be helping, but I just went ahead and let her sleep in. She’s probably just overwhelmed with all the work that needs to be done. You look tired Kris.”

“I’m fine,” Kris said, looking down at his iPhone hidden below the table. He backspaced through the text he had prepared to send moments before, and typed: Did you get that text I sent you? Send.

Beetlebeep.

MJ reached for her purse at her feet, and then read his text beneath the table. He watched her, waiting for her reply.

Doodledoot.

MJ: The 4am one? Yes. Sorry, I was trying to get some sleep, between Tori giggling all night and her phone “DingDinging” every few minutes.

Kris read that, and then looked up at her. Her head was down as if in concentration, but those lines between her eyes were that of anger, not concentration.

Apprehensively, he sent her a leading text: Why are you sitting all the way over there?

Beetlebeep.

Doodledoot.

MJ: I just need space.

Kris didn’t know if she meant she needed table space to address envelops or if she meant she needed space between him and her, figuratively speaking. He suspected that she had carefully chosen those words, just to confuse him.

He glared down at his screen and texted: That’s fine. Take all the space you need. I just need to know what you thought about that kiss first. Send.

Beetlebeep.

She read his text, and her reply came without hesitation.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Oh, I haven’t really thought about it at all.

Kris knew she was lying, but her answer still annoyed him. He texted: Then think about it now. Send!

MJ: No.

Kris: No?!

AV sighed. “Will you two stop texting each other as if I’m not in the room?”

Kris blushed, and tucked his iPhone back into his pocket. “Sorry AV.”

Dootledoot.

He reached for his pocket, but then caught sight of AV’s pursed lips and felt like he had to leave it. MJ probably sent him that one last text, just to bug him, knowing he couldn’t read it right away. He didn’t know how long he could leave it alone. It was like putting a lighted cigar in his pocket. He itched to pull it out.

Then Janice came back to the kitchen, grinning her “proud mama” grin. She hadn’t found his sixth grade calligraphy assignment, but she had found something else. “Kris, I’m cashing this in,” she said with a toothy smile. She shoved a crumpled piece of pink construction paper into his hand, and he knew what it was before he smoothed it out and read the scribbled writing.

“It’s a coupon Kris made for me last mother’s day,” Janice said to AV and MJ. “Good for one half hour of Kris singing! It’s the last one I have, and I was saving it for a rainy day, but mother’s day is coming up again, and I expect a whole new coupon book, so I figured, what the hay! You two are in for a real treat.”

AV said, “How kind of you to share with us. I’m sure Kris’s singing will make our workload seem lighter. Time will fly by.”

MJ was struggling to control her laughter and Kris felt his face heat up even more.

“What would make your workload lighter, is me helping. Besides, that’s expired,” he said, wishing he hadn’t made so many of those bloody coupons for his mom. He had felt extra generous last year, and had made the book extra thick. But without the constraint of those coupons, she would make him sing for her every second they were together.

“Oh, Kris,” Janice said, exasperated. “We both know there’s no expiration date. The only rule is that I can’t use more than one in a 24 hour period.” Janice ran to get Kris’s guitar like a puppy retrieving a unwanted newspaper.

“I’m sorry,” Kris mumbled to AV. “This will only take 30 minutes. Then I’ll get back to actually helping you.”

AV smiled at him. “That’s nonsense, Kris. All you’ve done since the moment I met you, is offer your unconditional help. You don’t owe me anything. I’m glad I get to hear you sing while I address these envelopes.”

Kris nodded, warmed by AV’s gratitude for his small acts of service. And, he realized, at some point, it had become less about helping Gityd, and more about helping her mother. After all, AV was the one carrying of the workload of this wedding. Gityd did things like stay up all night texting, and then slept in the next day.

He pushed his chair about five feet away from the table and took his guitar from his mom, who hovered eagerly at his side. First, he sang a song for AV, something that he knew she would like, and he watched her smile as she addressed envelopes. She applauded him when it was over, and then he began a song for MJ.

He picked out the intro and watched, with some satisfaction, as her cheeks flushed, but she refused to look up at him.

Then he sang. “I don’t know you/but I want you/all the more for that…”

Chapter 15: Insights

2009-06-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

Kris walked into his house and threw his keys on the table near the front door. It was just past midnight. His parents were already in bed and the house was dark. The past few days had been such a whirlwind of activity and emotion that Kris was glad to be home. He took a deep breath. He needed some time to think things through. What had he done? And why had he done it? Why did his brain feel like mush and his heart feel like it just took a turn in a Pampered Chef chopper?

Yes. He had kissed MJ. And he had kissed her good—complete with hands traveling up thighs. But why? He had never even thought of MJ romantically. Until her lips brushed his ear he’d never considered kissing her. When he would practice making out with his pillow it was always Gityd’s face he pictured on that pillowcase. But in that moment he was suddenly a desperate fool at the end of his pitiful rope. Gityd had kissed his cheek which, in turn, had made his brain foggy with confusion. Then MJ had been there not two seconds later to confuse him even more with her “accidental ear kiss” and the sighing and the hurt look in her eyes and, and, and…..

It was all too much.

Kris rubbed both his eyes hard with the palms of his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. He just needed some normalcy for a minute. He hoped that would help him to think clearly again. He headed up to his room where he sat on his bed and opened his MacBook. His iPhone had helped him keep up on email but he hadn’t checked anyone’s blogs for at least a week. One of these days he planned on setting up the Google app and Google Reader on his phone to make checking blogs easier, but until then he could only check them old school on the computer. He didn’t have a blog of his own but he liked reading other people’s thoughts on things. He hoped that seeing what old friends were up to would snap him back into reality rather than this dreamland/nightmare in which he was currently existing.

His first stop on the world wide web was guyliner.blogspot.com. There was the familiar picture at the top of the blog that Adam hadn’t changed for over two years. Adam thought that picture made him look the most like Edward, making it his favorite, of course. Adam had posted just the day before:

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

quick update

had so much fun with clay. i don’t know where it’s going (if anywhere) but he is a great guy. tons of family is in town planning wedding. it’s gonna be a hawt mess. don’t have time to write more but things are c-rayzee around here. working thursday and saturday down at the shack. stop by if you can.

Well that was entirely useless and uninformative, thought Kris. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for but that was not it. Maybe he had hoped that Adam had had deep conversations with both Gityd and MJ and was going to do a word for word transcript on his blog? Yes. That was what he was hoping for. Adam did not deliver.

Kris scrolled down to make sure he hadn’t missed any more of Adam’s posts. Something caught his eye over Adam’s blogroll. There was a blog called “Tori’s Tidbits.” No, thought Kris. That couldn’t be Gityd’s blog, could it? Surely he would have seen that before, wouldn’t he? Kris didn’t usually look at Adam’s blogroll, he supposed. Adam had lots of friends other than Kris that Kris didn’t exactly “jive with” so Adam’s blogroll had never held any interest for him. But that name just jumped out at him like a spark out of a campfire.

Kris hovered his mouse over the link for a moment (http://faeriepryncessbride.blogspot.com) and then clicked. He was immediately inundated with animated emoticons, different colors and sizes of fonts, his curser had turned into a pair of lips and his computer immediately started playing some Mariah Carey song. He swore and pushed the mute button on his laptop so he wouldn’t wake up his parents.

Mariah Carey music aside, Kris felt like he had been punched in the face. Gityd’s blog banner was five pictures in a row of she and Simon. Kris figured they had taken them in a photo booth somewhere. Scrawled across the pictures were the words “All because two people fell in love” in a swirly font. One picture was of them doing rabbit ears to each other. Two were them sticking their tongues out (one facing the camera, one facing each other). One was her was kissing him on the cheek while Simon looked smugly at the camera and then the last one…. them kissing and, this was the worst part, looking entirely in love. Sure, Kris had seen Gityd sit on Simon’s knee and put her arms around his neck, but this was different. Seeing the line of her jawbone frozen in time as she tilted her head to kiss Simon, eyes closed …all of this made their relationship seem more real somehow. And that made Gityd seem that much more unattainable.

Kris scrolled down to see her blog posts. She had updated that morning. He scrolled all the way down to the bottom. She pretty much updated everyday in fact. Most of them were pictures of shoes (asking which ones would look the best with her wedding gown), one was entitled “O.M.Gee: i.e. AKA TDF!” and was a link to the wedding location’s website, another was entitled “How I’m So Skinny” and as far as Kris could tell she had basically laid out her day-to-day meals and found Google images pictures to accompany them. SlimFasts, Diet Coke, Lean Cuisines, Red Vines and Altoids seemed to be what she lived on. He had already come to terms with her food isues so he scrolled back up to the top to read her most current post.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Is This Normal?
You gize. This is a major frowny face-making post. ☹ I’m in complete duress. I need your help, plzzzzz! Here is the thing. I LUHRVE Simon, you know? I really do. He is totally the man of my dreams. Have I told you about how he is Chuck E. Cheese’s youngest manager ever? Like IN THE HISTORY of Chuck E. Cheese?? Wait, yes I did…a few times. Anyhoozy, I adore him. And when he talks British? TDF. And no, we don’t have a TON of stuff in common but that doesn’t really matter, does it? And no, we don’t have tons to talk about but what is the big freaking deal about talking anywayz? He is so hot in his tight black t-shirts he wears every day too. And plus, we have cHeMiSTrY. And from all the Sweet Valley High books I’ve ever read (and I’ve tooootally read them all), that is what makes relationships last. But so here is my question…can you have that kind of chemistry with more than one person? I mean, hipe-o-thet-ically (sp?) speaking of course. Not that I’ve recently felt it with anyone else or anything. No. I’m just wondering. K, maybe a little. That’s why this is so ☹- making! I’m supposed to get married in 10 days!!!!! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!! PuHLeaSe help me out. Go ahead and write anything you want in the comments. Simon thinks blogs are lame and never reads mine.
Hugs&Kisses, Tori

Kris sat and stared at the computer screen. Then he read it again. And again. She couldn’t be referring to….him, could she? But who else could it be? So he hadn’t just imagined the moment they had at the Mexican restaurant! And maybe she wasn’t as unattainable as he thought! Of course there was still the matter of Simon being in charge of Kris’ musical career but at this point that almost seemed immaterial. There were thousands of managers out there in the world, but only one Gityd. There was only one person who could make him feel like he was flying and then drowning with a single look. And now Kris knew she was feeling the same way about him? Unbelievable.

Kris scoured the rest of her blog posts to see if he could pick up any more clues regarding her feelings for him. There was nothing but quizzes she had filled out, lists of her favorite things and some pictures of she and MJ on a recent trip to Mexico . . .

MJ…MJ…Mary Jane. In all the excitement he had completely forgotten about what he had done to her not three hours ago. The pit in his stomach grew bigger and bigger as he remembered the kiss, frame-by-frame. What was he going to do now? What were his feelings for MJ anyway? And what were her feelings for him? He had rushed out onto the stage so quickly after their “encounter” and then with all the chaos of Simon declaring Gityd as the Karaoke Winner of the evening, they were never able to put the period at the end of their intimate sentence.

Kris scanned Gityd’s blogroll hoping to find out that MJ had a blog as well. After all, Gityd’s had been so informative. Gityd had over one hundred blogs listed there and they were in alphabetical order rather than in order of when they had been updated last. None of them had the name MJ in the blog title but there were several that didn’t have any proper names at all. He focused on those. His eyes rested on one called “musings.” That just seems like something MJ would call her little piece of the internet, Kris thought. He clicked and sure enough, “MJ’s Musings” was there before his eyes. It was set up very simply. Black background. No big blog banner. Just MJ’s musings, as the title would suggest.

She had updated 47 minutes earlier.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

It Happened

I’ve set my blog to private now (I hope I did it correctly). I need a place to get out my feelings and this seems the safest place to do so. Writing has always been how I sort things out and, due to the fact that I’m at Adam’s house, I’m not about to write all this down on a piece of paper so Fred can get his hands on it and read it out loud to everyone at dinner.

So I write this for myself.

Tonight I had my first kiss.

Seeing that written up there makes it seem so corny and childish. A first kiss shouldn’t be a huge deal. I heard somewhere that the average person’s first kiss is between the ages of 8 and 12. I wish that is when mine would have been. Then this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But no, I had to go all through high school having never kissed a boy. Never dating anyone long enough to get to the “first kiss date.” Having some romantic and outlandish notion of never wanting to date anyone except the person I heard singing on some random demo tape two years ago.

I curse Adam for bringing that demo tape to my house.

If he hadn’t made me listen to that I could have had a normal high school experience of dating a normal boy and having a normal first kiss.

Instead, I find myself now, having met the person singing on the tape and in complete misery. He is even more remarkable than I had imagined him to be. He is kind, charming, hilarious, smart, and devilishly handsome.

And the best part?

He was my first kiss. Just like I always dreamed.

And the worst part?

My first kiss is completely and utterly in love with my sister.
And the best/worst part?

She is getting married to someone else in less than two weeks.

And the worst/worst part?

Judging from her latest blog post, she may be developing some feelings for my first kiss.

And the worst/worst/worst/worst part?

I was a terrible kisser. I don’t have much experience to go on but I had no idea what I was doing. I’m fairly certain I didn’t move. That can’t be good.

I wish I was back at home so I could lay on my bed and stare up at the stars on my ceiling. Somehow looking at the constellations I was so careful about sticking up there in the fifth grade helps me to think.

On the other hand, the last thing I want to do right now is think. I don’t want to think about how his face transforms when he looks at Tori and how it will never be that way when he looks at me. I don’t want to think about the pain he must be feeling as he helps Tori plan her wedding to another man. I don’t want to think about the possibility of Tori giving him false hope if she decides to act on her “recent feelings” for him. And I definitely don’t want to think about what has been stuck in the back of my mind since his lips touched mine…. and that is that the only reason he kissed me, is because I was there and Tori wasn’t.

Tonight I had my first kiss.

Kris sat there reading the last two sentences again and again. Is that what he had done? Did he use MJ as a mere substitution for what he could never have? He thought back to that moment and about his reasons for kissing her and he had no better explanation. It was as if MJ knew him better than he knew himself. He hadn’t done it on purpose but that made no difference. He had done it. MJ knew it and now he knew it. He closed his laptop and wished he had never read any of this.

He laid back on his bed and looked up at his own set of stars. Orion. It didn’t hold the same feeling as it had in nights past. It seemed like Orion’s belt was cinched in tonight, making his breathing uncomfortable. Kris tried to take a deep breath himself but couldn’t quite fill his lungs up entirely. That sandbag was back on his chest but it wasn’t going anywhere this time. His mind was reeling. He closed his eyes hoping sleep would put him out of his misery. It didn’t.

He laid there for over an hour.

Doodledoot.

Chapter 14: Two Sisters, One Kiss

2009-06-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

By Jespy

“OK, I’ve had this plan formulating in my head. It’s extreme,” Adam said, fitting his chair into the gap between Kris and AV. “Quick. Pass me that binder and those slips of paper.”

Kris scooted his chair closer to MJ, who was on his right, to make room for Adam, and then slid the heavy, four-inch binder to his left. He wanted nothing to do with that binder anyway. Adam pulled it open and started flipping through the pages.

The ironic thing was, when Kris had torn out of Adam’s driveway earlier that day, he had been the one with the extreme plan formulating in his head, something that would help him win Gityd’s heart. But about two miles down the road, the extreme plan had completely slipped his mind. He didn’t know if it was all the blood-letting and fainting he had experienced that day, or if it had something to do with all the Diet Dr. Pepper he had been drinking lately. Either way, he had no extreme plan tonight, he was just gonna have to wing it.

One thing he did do, was when the waiter took his order at dinner, Kris asked for a Diet Coke. The toxins in Diet Dr. Pepper were definitely burning a hole in his brain, so he was quitting it and getting back on his more health-conscience Diet Coke diet. Besides, there’s no Sonic in San Diego. Even Google it and see.

Sham Rock’s Shack had been pretty much deserted at dinnertime, as it didn’t sell alcohol, so they had gotten seated right away, even though they were a large party, consisting of himself, Gityd, Simon, AV, Uncle Jeb, MJ, Gokey, and Gokey’s girlfriend Emily. (Adam didn’t eat dinner with them because he was busy setting up the Karaoke equipment.) Their food had been delicious—Irish food, such as potatoes, and green eggs and ham, and tiny crunchy marshmallows in the shape of horseshoes and diamonds and little rainbows. But dinner was over now, and all the plates had been cleared away.

Karaoke was about to get started, and the place was finally coming alive. In fact, there was hardly an empty seat in the joint.

The round table, at which they were sitting, was front and center to the stage that stretched the length of the restaurant. Silk, braided rope with tassels tied back a green velvet curtain, revealing a stage large enough for a Broadway musical, or big game of dodge ball. In the dead center, under a spotlight, was a lonely mic resting on a black stand. The mic hung downward, pointing toward the ground, real sad-like. None of Adam’s Karaoke equipment was on stage to keep it company, as that was all tucked away in the orchestra pit, professional-like.

Kris had no intention of joining that lonely mic on stage.

Before dinner, he had considered getting up there. He even went through some possible song choices in his head and imagined Gityd seeing him perform, rushing up to the stage in a hail of confetti to embrace him, and then telling him she would never marry Simon because she now realized that she loved him. But his mood had taken a sudden turn at one point during dinner. Gityd had been gushing to Simon about Kris donating gallons of blood for her, and how self-sacrificing it all was, and throughout it all, Simon had stared at Kris as if he could bore holes through his skull. That’s when Kris fully grasped the consequences of his decision to not give up on Gityd: Simon would ruin Kris’s chance of ever having a career in the music industry. But Kris had already made up his mind. He didn’t need music, he only needed Gityd, and to prove it, he wasn’t going to sing tonight.

Dootledoot.

Kris knew the text was from MJ before he even read it, and that made him smile inwardly. He liked that she would texted him even if she was sitting one inch away. He held his iPhone below the tabletop and glanced down at the screen: Why so saddy?

Well, MJ, he thought, I’m sad because I’m in love two things, singing and Gityd, and I have to give up one to get the other. A real Sophie’s choice. But he wasn’t going to text that to her. Instead, he just nudged her shoulder with his and whispered in her ear, “I’m not sad. Don’t worry about me.” She didn’t believe him.

Adam said, “Anyway, as I was saying. I have an extreme plan. I want all my friends and family up on that stage singing tonight, even the tone deaf ones.” Adam’s gaze flicked toward Gityd, but she didn’t notice, she just sat there grinning in excitement. “And to get you all up there,” Adam continued, “I thought I’d turn this into a little contest.”

Gokey pushed his Lens Crafter’s glass up his nose, and said, “Sounds dope! I’m feeling out of sight tonight, man.” Gokey was firmly stuck in 1991, and there was no budging him. He, too, was an aspiring singer, and Kris really liked the guy, but was afraid that his dated music style made him a lost cause. His girlfriend looked excited, too, and was saying something about doing the running man all over that stage

“Oh, how fun!” AV said, elbowing her husband. “I love singing contests!”

Kris asked Adam, skeptically, “And what does the winner of this little contest get?”

“Well, the person who gets up there and puts on the best show, wins a recording contract. But the twist is, there is no recording contract.”

“So, you’re saying there’s no prize?”

“No, there is a prize. The prize is a fake recording contract. And bragging rights,” he added.

“I’m in,” MJ said. “I’m all about the bragging rights.”

“Me too! Pass me the binder,” said Gityd, with a string of quick, excited claps. Kris immediately felt the need to protect her from getting on that stage and opening her mouth. He started to say something, but Adam held up his hand and said, “Whoa, hold your horses, little lady. I have one more twist. You don’t get to pick your own song. Each person will pick the song of someone else in the group, and you don’t get to see what song was chosen for you in advance. You’ll find out for the first time on stage.”

“That’s a horrible idea,” Kris said.

“Oooooooo, I love it,” said MJ, rubbing her hands together. “I have the perfect song for [Gityd].”

Kris looked sharply at her, and then leaned in and whispered, “You’d really let your sister get up there and sing in front of all these people?”

MJ gave him an insulted look, and whispered back, “She wants to sing, Kris. The least I can do, is give her an easy song, something that fits within her very narrow singing range.”

“What are you two conspiring about over there?” Gityd said, eying Kris and MJ across the table. Her gazed narrowed at MJ. “I’m picking MJ’s song,” she declared.

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t sing in contests, I judge them.” And no one argued with him, because his assessment seemed right for some reason. “I’ll decide the winner. And I’m picking Kris’s song. Pass me the bloody binder.”

Kris continued to insist that he wasn’t going to sing until the very moment Adam called his name, letting him know that he was second man on deck, and needed to get his A in queue backstage. Kris’s decision to walk up those stairs and go backstage had nothing to do with singing.

He was now sitting on a bench beside Gityd. His heart was fluttering around his rib cage, like a wild bird trying to escape from an aviary made of flesh and bone. He wasn’t nervous about singing, he was too aware of the girl sitting beside him to worry about singing a mystery song of Simon’s choosing in front of a live audience.

They were alone. Sharing a bench short enough, that Kris’s arm could rest against hers without seeming awkward. The situation couldn’t be more opportune.

Kris cleared his throat and turned to Gityd. “Are you nervous about singing?”

Her eyes widened. “Not at all. I can’t wait. Are you?” she asked, reaching over to lay a comforting hand on his arm.

Kris gazed down at her hand. It was like a tiny bird that had come to perch on his arm and visit the wild bird trapped in his aviary chest. “A little nervous,” he answered. It was the truth, but he was nervous for different reasons than Gityd assumed.

“Oh, don’t be nervous,” she said, genuinely distressed. “I’m sure you’ll do fine up there. I’m sure Simon picked a good song for you. He knows his stuff.”

Kris nodded, and the bird trapped inside his chest fluttered in response to the tiny bird hopping along his arm.

“MJ chose a good song for you, too,” he said.

Gityd’s eyes narrowed and the tiny bird flew away. “Did she tell you what song she picked for me?”

“No, but she told me she planned to pick a good one. Something you’re familiar with, and in your range.”

Gityd rolled her eyes. “Chaaaaaaaaaaaa right. I’m sure she picked something horrible, but I’ll show her. I’ll sing the pants off her.”

Kris was surprised by the anger in her tone, and tried to assure her, “No, really. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you.”

“Kris,” she said, giving him a look that seemed almost condescending. “You’re so sweet, it doesn’t even occur to you that MJ would totally try to sabotage me.” Her hand was back on his arm, but for some reason it was just a regular hand this time.

“That’s not true—”

“How do you know that?” she asked, interrupting him impatiently. “We’ll just have to wait and see how it all plays out. And we won’t have to wait long. I’m up next.” Then she turned to her left to watch Gokey sashay groovily across the stage, as if it was 1991.

Gokey was butchering the song “Dream On” by Aerosmith. Adam had chosen the song, and Kris wondered if his goal had been to sabotage Gokey. He would have to ask him later. AV had already sung, a song chosen by Gokey called, “Rush, Rush” by Paula Abdul. Gokey had grinned ear to ear when the song began, thinking he had nailed the song choice, but the look on AV’s face was one of utter confusion, like, “Really, Gokey? Rush, Rush by Paula Abdul? Really?” Gokey’s girlfriend Emily had gone up after AV, and she sang “Right Here” by SWV, which AV had chosen for her. It had turned out to be a good choice—Emily worked the stage, doing the running man from one end to the next, and Kris thought it was the best performance so far.

Gityd turned back to him, and a grin spread across her face causing his heart to leap. “Guess what song I picked for MJ?” she said with a devilish look in her eye that made Kris afraid to find out.

“We’re not supposed tell anyone the songs we picked.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh who cares? I’m just gonna tell you. I picked ‘Birthday’ by The Sugar Cubes,” she said, her smile widening.

Kris thought for a second. “That’s a Bijork song, right?” he asked, recalling the old song and picturing the eccentric lead singer in his mind.

“Yes! It’s a crazy song, all high and weird and out of her range.” Gityd laughed, but Kris didn’t find it funny. Before he could say anything, Gokey let out the most bloodcurdling scream on stage, and both he and Gityd covered their ears in horror. Then they both busted out laughing, and Kris forgot what he was gonna say about Gityd’s song choice for her sister.

“Allll righty,” Adam said, jumping up on stage and prying the mic out of Gokey’s sweaty hand. Gokey was struggling to catch his breath and bowing to the audience. “Next up, we have [Gityd].” The audience cheered. “And that means MJ, you’re in queue.”

Gityd stood up, and Kris rose with her. “Good luck out there,” he said, and Gityd wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Kris, you’re so sweet. But I don’t need luck.” Then she pulled back and looked into his eyes, and the thought occurred to him that she was about to kiss him… and she did. On the cheek. Then she rushed onto the stage, waving to the crowd like a pro.

Kris touched his cheek and sat back down on the bench, smiling at MJ who was just now coming to take her place in queue beside him.

“Howdy,” she said.

“Sup,” he replied, glad that he had MJ to sit beside him.

Gityd’s song began, and it was an easy song, just as MJ had promised. Gityd beamed excitedly upon hearing it, grabbed the mic, and started jumping around the stage in beat with the intro.

She had been wrong about MJ sabotaging her, but evidently, she wasn’t giving it a second thought now.

“She loves this song,” MJ said, but Kris could tell. Gityd was belting out the words without even glancing at the monitor, completely in her element, singing “Holiday” by Madonna.

“We used to dance around the house and sing this song at the top of our lungs when we were kids,” MJ said, smiling at the memory.

Kris nodded. “Thank you for picking it for her.”

She shrugged. “You don’t need to thank me for looking out for my own sister.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re a good sister,” Kris said and then hesitated before adding, “MJ, [Gityd] told me what song she picked for you. I think I should warn you…”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “Warn me? You mean she didn’t play nice?”

Kris opened his mouth to tell her, but she stopped him. “Don’t. I’m not supposed to know the song before I go out there. I want to win this thing fair and square. Bragging rights.” She smiled but there was an unmistakable hurt in her eyes.

“Right,” Kris said, looking down. He didn’t want to see that look in her eyes, and think about who had caused it. He bumped her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You have an awesome voice. I would love to hear you sing the phonebook, even.”

“Really? Just make up my own tune and start singing through the last names? Or do you want me to sing the addresses and numbers, too?”

“All of it,” he said. “Every word of the phonebook. Including page numbers.”

“OK. Can I condense the ‘Smiths,’ tho?”

“No. I wanna hear every individual Smith.”

She laughed. “This’ll be long song.”

“And I’ll enjoy every hour of it.”

She laughed again and Kris smiled back, pleased with himself for cheering her up. Then he turned his head back toward the stage to watch Gityd, and that’s when it happened. MJ leaned over and kissed him… right on his ear.

He turned back to her, eyebrows up.

She didn’t meet his gaze, instead staring straight ahead, with an expression that told him she didn’t know whether to crawl under the bench from embarrassment or laugh. She decided on laugh, although it sounded self-conscience. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you shouldn’t have turned your head.”

Kris looked at MJ as if he’d never seen her before. It never occurred to him that she wanted to kiss him. Then, without really thinking about it, he reached for MJ’s cheek with one of his hands, brought her face to his, and kissed her… on the lips.

Her lips felt soft under his, like mouse-sized memory foam pillows. Kris had never felt lips so soft, and he almost sighed with the feel of it. But then it registered in his mind that MJ was frozen in place, and her soft lips were completely immobile.

She was not kissing him back.

What am I doing? he thought, appalled by his actions, pulling away and dropping his hand.

MJ looked like a deer caught in headlights, hit by a car, scraped off the road, and then taxidermied.

“I’m sorry,” Kris said, but she just blinked back at him.

He may have acted without thinking, but her reaction was equally confusing. After all, she was the one who had tried to kiss him first. The idea of kissing her hadn’t even occurred to him before that. She wanted to kiss him, and he was simply obliging her… wasn’t he? “I thought,” he said awkwardly, “since you tried to kiss me…”

MJ blushed. “I didn’t try to kiss you, Kris. I was trying to look around you to see the stage, you turned your head at the exact moment, and my lips bumped your ear. By accident.”

Kris looked at the lips in question and said lamely, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, then. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s OK,” she insisted, “I should be the one apologizing—”

And then Kris did it again. Without thinking, he reached for her face, leaned in, and took her lips mid-sentence. As he fell upon her memory foam lips, he had the strange sensation of arriving home after a long trip, creep into his chest. The only problem with his homecoming was that MJ was sitting frozen and unresponsive. Frustrated, he pulled away, but not too far away. She was completely tharn. But her wide brown eyes only made him more determined, so he slid his hand closer to her mouth and brushed his thumb lightly over her soft lips. She sighed. He saw his chance, and went back in without hesitation.

As her lips finally began to move, responding to his, his heart soared with a kind of pride. He had accomplished the impossible: he brought a taxidermied deer back to life.

Kris wanted to describe every minute detail of this perfect kiss: the way her mouth moved in harmony with his, the way she sighed when he moved his hand to her thigh, the way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth every so often, but he couldn’t because what if his mom was reading this?

MJ’s warm hand reached out blindly and landed on his chest, in a spot just to the right of his pounding heart, and Kris quickly covered it with his own. She gently levered against his chest, breaking the kiss. “Song’s almost up,” she said, and Kris grinned at how breathless she sounded, not really comprehending her words. Then he followed her line of sight, glancing over his shoulder.

Gityd was hopping around the stage, doing this strange country hoe-down move, and even with her hair hanging in front of her face like that and getting all tangled up in the mic cord, and even singing like she was being disemboweled… she still looked incredibly beautiful.

The girl the yellow dress, Kris thought. Suddenly, he was very confused.

Kris felt MJ’s hand leaving his chest and felt himself letting it go.

He turned back to her and saw sadness—deeper than the hurt Gityd had caused—seep into her expression. This time, Kris had caused it. He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t know what to say.

“It’s all right,” she said, her smile not reaching her eyes.

He frowned at her because it wasn’t all right. He shouldn’t have kissed her like that. Not when he was in love with her sister.

Gityd’s song was over. She was bowing and blowing kisses, and the audience was clapping politely.

“Kris!” Adam called. “C’mon, mate. You’re up!”

“You’d better go,” MJ said.

Kris got to his feet, shame making his feet drag as he walked out onto the stage, both shaken and confused. He looked backed at MJ when he reached the spotlight, but the glare was too bright and he couldn’t see her.

Prying the mic off the stand, Kris waited for the mystery song to begin. Then he remembered something, and called Adam over to him.

Oh, geez, Simon, Kris thought, as the intro to a familiar song began to play, Could you have chosen a more depressing song?

The spotlight followed Kris as he walked forward to meet Adam halfway. He lowered the mic, so as not to be overheard, and said, “MJ’s song. Play it one key lower. Otherwise it’ll be too high for her.”

Adam’s forehead scrunched. “This is Karaoke, mate. I’m not working with a live band. It’s not possible to change the key.”

“Yes it is,” Kris said. “Read your Karaoke machine manual. The section on changing keys. All you have to do is cut the blue wire.”

Adam nodded. “All right. But that’s sort of cheating.”

“Who cares?” Kris snapped impatiently, and Adam agreed.

The first verse was starting and Kris didn’t need to watch the monitor to sing the words. It was a ghastly song, even for Simon’s tastes. About abortion, of all things. But taking the words out of context, the song began to strike a chord with him, and he put all of his frustrated, mixed-up emotions into his performance, as he sang, “…Sheeee’s a brick and I’m drowning slowly…”

Chapter 13: Reverie

2009-06-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

Kris was standing in a forest. The ferns were as high as his waist and everything was green. So green. He stood perfectly still. He was waiting for something. Or maybe someone. He’d never given much thought to how he would die… but dying in the place of someone he loved seemed like a good way to go. He suddenly began running. He ran faster than he ever had before. It almost felt like he was flying. Flying through the trees as if they weren’t there at all. He didn’t know what he was chasing. Or if he was the one being chased. He just knew he had to run.

He soon realized that he was the pursuer. The hunter. And he was getting closer and closer to it, whatever it was. Let your senses take over, he told himself. You’re almost there. Don’t give up now. You can do this. He then leapt out from behind a tree and grabbed his prize, wrestling it to the ground. It was a person. He struggled with said person and turned them over on their back. The face was hazy. He stared at the face, willing it to come into focus. When it did he was confused. Willy/Jeffy was pinned under his knees, laughing.

Kris looked around and found he was now in the desert. Jeffy/Willy was gone and in his place there was hard packed earth and up ahead was nothing as far as the eye could see. He was no longer flying/running but trudging along at a snail’s pace. He was thirsty. So thirsty. He licked is lips and they felt like sandpaper. A silver parachute came drifting toward him. It landed lightly on the ground at his feet. He bent over and picked it up. Inside was one ice-cold can of Diet Dr. Pepper and his iPhone.

Doodledoot.

Unknown Caller: In the night I hear ‘em talk, the coldest story ever told. Somewhere far along this road, he lost his heart to a woman so heartless… How could you be so heartless? Oh….how could you be so heartless?

He went to open his DDP when it suddenly became a microphone. He found himself on a stage. Confetti was falling from the ceiling. People were crowding around him and patting him on the back as he sang a sub-par song regarding boundaries and not having any. Somehow he knew the words to the song. He found himself singing cheesy lyrics like “Every step you climb another mountain/Every breath its harder to believe/You’ll make it through the pain/Weather the hurricane/To get to that one thing.” It was a little out of his range but it didn’t matter. People were happy he was there. The majority of the population was glad he was the one singing at that moment. Adam was there. Gokey was there. Simon sat behind a desk glaring at him, chest hair creeping out of the top of his shirt. Kris kept singing. He had never felt so exhilarated. He knew that at that moment he was singing for millions of people.

Still, he searched for her in the crowd.

As he sang he looked at every single face hoping the next face would be hers. He couldn’t find her. Keep singing, he told himself. She’ll find you. “You can go higher/You can go deeper/There are no boundaries/Above and beneath you/Break every rule cuz there’s nothing between you and your dreams…” He was nearing the end of the song and still, she didn’t come. Finally, he heard someone say, “Look out! She’s here! Make room for her!” Kris turned and reached his hand down. He pulled her up on the stage. He pulled her to him in an embrace that would make the women in the audience and those watching at home swoon and bite their knuckles. He had never felt so at peace. He was in her arms. All was right in the world. He was home.

He pulled her back to look at her face. With the bright lights and confetti he couldn’t see her clearly. He HAD to see her face.

Right now.

He tried swatting away the pieces of confetti but that only made it worse. More and more confetti fell from the ceiling and the lights became brighter and brighter. Make it stop! he pled. He desperately needed to see her face. He felt her getting pulled away from him though he tried to hold on. His grip failed and she was lost in a sea of confetti and people…. “Kris!” he could hear her scream. “KRIIIISSS!”

“Kris,” he heard her voice say. “Kris?” No, maybe not her voice. Or was it?

He opened his eyes and the light was blinding. He rubbed them and took a moment to let them focus. When they did, he realized it was MJ’s face that was in front of him. It wasn’t all creepy like Bella’s mom’s face when she woke up in the hospital bed though. No, Kris found this to be quite nice, waking up to MJ.

“I hope you had a nice nap because we have to get going,” MJ said, smiling pleasantly. “I think you may have drooled on the pillow there a lil’ bit.”

Kris wiped the corner of his mouth hoping she was kidding. She wasn’t. “Oh….uh…how long have I been asleep?”

“About 20 minutes,” MJ replied. “Just long enough for Nurse Meyer here to get what she needed and for [Gityd] to get her discount.”

Kris looked down at his right arm. In the crook of his elbow was a piece of gauze taped to his arm. He must have been really tired to not feel that. He could see the blood saturating the piece of gauze. “Is that even legal? Taking blood from a sleeping person?” he asked, not really caring what the answer was. He was relieved that he was able to help Gityd, be her hero as it were, without her having to see him cry. It was also nice to not have the guilt hanging out in the back of his mind for never donating his highly desirable blood. He could now not donate for another ten years and not feel bad about it.

“The nurse didn’t want to do it at first but [Gityd] worked her charm on her. Plus I think the nurse was a little worried about you fainting again anyway,” MJ said. “It wasn’t pretty what with all the eyes rolling back in your head, the knees buckling and whatnot.”

Kris sat up on the fainting couch and looked around. No Gityd.

“She’s not here,” MJ said, once again jarring him with her perceptiveness. “She got her discount coupon and went back to the dress shop. Then Simon came by and picked her up. We are all supposed to meet back at Adam’s house to see what else needs to be done today. AV is in her element here. She should have been a wedding planner.”

Kris got his cookie and orange juice from the butchy nurse and they headed back to his pearl toned Suzuki XL7. He wasn’t sure what AV had been talking about. It looked nothing like a minivan. It looked like an SUV which is why Kris had bought it in the first place. He was a single guy who was extremely concerned about his image. Why would he want girls thinking he drove a minivan? He wasn’t an awesome mom who no longer concerned herself with the opinions of others. No, this car definitely had SUV lineage due to the fact that it was missing the main feature that made minivans, well, minivans…. the convenient sliding side doors. His rear doors needed to be opened by hand and had the potential to ding other people’s doors if he parked too close. Nothing but inconvenience and hassle—very SUV-ish. Also, his back seat was a simple bench seat as opposed to amazingly comfortable captain’s chairs that reclined. Looks like a minivan…chya right, Kris thought as he got in and buckled his seatbelt. I would love to have a minivan someday though. There’s nothing I can think of that would be sexier than Gityd behind the wheel of a silver jade Dodge Grand Caravan, our three adorable kids in tow—two boys and a girl.

“I’m no pearl toned Suzuki XL7 expert or anything but I’m pretty sure you gotta put the key in that little hole and turn it in order for the car to start,” MJ said, obviously intending to snap him out of his daydreaming.

“You’re kind of a smart A, you know that?” Kris replied with a laugh in his voice, as he started the car. He then did that cool thing that hawt gize do when backing out of parking spaces. He put his arm on the back of MJ’s seat and turned around to see out the back window. His perfectly toned arm and pectoral muscles flexed at the strain. He could not have chosen a better t-shirt to show off his physique. He looked down, entirely unaware of his resemblance to Jacob in the New Moon trailer, and caught MJ staring at him. He raised both of his eyebrows (because he can’t raise just one, remember).

“What?” he asked.

“Uh, nothing,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I just think you’re going to need to change that gauze. That looks disgusting.”

“I know,” Kris replied. However, he had no intention of taking it off. He was going to leave it on until it fell off. This was the only way he had to remind Gityd of his sacrifice for her. How he had laid down. On a bed of roses/fainting couch. And almost died for her. He hoped that every time she looked at his arm she would remember how he practically ran off to the Volturi to get torn up and have all the pieces burned, for her.

Kris stopped by Sonic on the way to Adam’s house. He ordered the two Rte.44 Diet Dr. Peppers, and handed them to MJ (she insisted on paying this time). She removed the paper off the straws again at lightening speed, and handed his back. Their hands worked in perfect tandem, like a well-oiled machine. Kris enjoyed the familiarity of their little routine they had now established.

On the way back to Adam’s, Kris decided he should get to know MJ a little better. After all, they had spent the better part of two days together and he didn’t know much about her. He asked her questions about her schooling and friends back in Bakersfield. She had just graduated from high school a semester early and was planning on attending UC Santa Barbara in the fall. She made it clear that she was no “partier” even though she would be attending one of the top “party schools” in the nation.

“I really like UC San Diego too, though,” she had said. “They have an amazing medical program.” Kris hadn’t responded. He had taken a wrong turn and was trying to figure out how to get to Adam’s from this new location. It was requiring his undivided attention. MJ misinterpreted his silence and slumped into her seat. She said very little the rest of the way.

By the time they reached Adam’s house it was close to 5:30pm. Everyone was there and once again it was complete chaos. Apparently in the short 15 minutes the Three Tasmanian Devils had been there they had managed to unzip and subsequently empty a Love Sac ™ Adam had upstairs in the bonus room. The room was entirely covered in the Love Sac’s ™ innards and AV was livid.

“And I don’t want to see one SPECK of that stuff up there when you are done cleaning it up, do you understand?” she was yelling up the stairs as Kris and MJ walked through the front door. She then turned to Kris and sighed. “Come here you!” she said giving him yet another one of her warm hugs. He hugged her back this time, trying to reciprocate the warmth. “Thank you so much for what you did at the blood bank today. [Gityd] told us all about it! I promise I will figure out a way to return the favor.” She then turned to MJ and put her arm around her leading her away as she spoke in hushed tones. Kris heard the words “dress,” “atrocious,” and “it’s her day” uttered. He smiled at the memory of MJ in that purple disaster. He looked quickly around the living room, family room and kitchen. Still no Gityd.

Just then Adam came down the stairs with a garbage can liner filled with Love Sac ™ filling. “Where is AV?” he asked. “I’m not supposed to be helping them clean this up but at this rate they won’t be done until Willy is the one getting married. I gotta sneak this out into the garage before she sees me.” He ran the bulging garbage sack out to the garage and was back in an instant. “So…. how was your day?” he asked wryly.

“Er….good, I guess,” Kris replied.

“Uh-huh,” said Adam, looking at Kris as if his face might give something else away.

“Yup,” said Kris, giving nothing away.

“Ok then. Well, I have to work tonight so I thought everyone could come down and have some fun while I’m there. There isn’t anything else that can be done, wedding plan wise, today. AV needs to blow off some steam and I know you don’t have anything better to do so…” Adam said, trailing off.

“Is everybody going to go?” Kris asked, still giving nothing away.

“That’s the plan,” Adam answered. “I got a sitter for the boys and the rest of us are all meeting at the Shack at 7:00pm for dinner and then some fun.”

Adam has been the karaoke host at Sham Rock’s Shack for the past two and a half years. Contrary to its description on Google, it is a nice family restaurant that doesn’t serve alcohol so Adam can work there even though he is only nineteen. It is his job to get the party going and to encourage other would-be karaokeists. Adam had single-handedly turned Sham Rock’s Shack into one of the hottest Karaoke spots in the greater San Diego area. People come from miles around to hear the “Boy Wonder” sing such hits as “It’s Raining Men” and Cher’s “Believe.”

Kris goes to see Adam perform occasionally but has never participated in the karaoke. It’s not that he thinks he’s better than that (although he totally is), it’s just that this was Adam’s realm. Plus, he’d always heard sounding “karaoke” was the worst thing that could happen to a soloist so he steered clear of the activity altogether.

However, Kris decided that tonight was going to be different. A plan was formulating in his head. This was to be a major step in the right direction of winning Gityd’s heart. He was up against the clock. He had less than two weeks remaining. Extreme measures needed to be taken.

He told Adam he’d be there and then ran out to his car. He would have peeled out of the driveway if the Suzuki XL7 was capable of such a thing. Kris didn’t bother to look back at the house. If he had, he would have seen MJ standing alone in the doorway, watching him drive away.

Chapter 12: Human Blood

2009-06-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

By Jespy Espy

Kris gazed up at the night sky. The stars were out in full force tonight, as they had been every night since he glued them to his bedroom ceiling. But there was only one constellation he was interested in: Orion. Every time looked at it, the image of that yellow dress would pop into his head. And now, he could put her voice and physical nuances with that image. He decided that he liked that she didn’t like meat and only ate chicken if it was dried up and burnt to a crisp. Meat was such a masculine food, and she was just too feminine for it. Anyway, having the complete picture of Gityd in his mind, he allowed himself to relive the incredible moment that had passed between them at dinner. She had looked into his soul, and he had tripped and fallen head over heals into her blue swimming-pool eyes.

Then she had announced her wedding date—two weeks from today, two weeks!—and he had inhaled about two gallons of chlorine as he sunk to the bottom of the deep end. No lifeguard on duty.

Even though the odds seemed insurmountable, Kris did not intend to give up. He had seen something in Gityd’s expression when she locked eyes with him; something he couldn’t quite define, but it gave him hope. Maybe she was drowning in her own swimming pool, and was only waiting for Kris to change into his lifeguard uniform, grab a foam buoy, blow his whistle, and jump in and rescue her?

Kris knocked on Adam’s front door, using his signature “shave and a hair cut” rhythm, and then took a step back and waited. He never used his key when Adam was home, unless Adam instructed him to—it was a privacy/respect thing.

He could hear bursts of activity on the other side of the door, and then the bolt was thrown back and the door swung open. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Kris!” Gityd said, her expression a burst of sunlight after a cloudy day. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She pulled him inside, tucked her arm under his, and led him toward the kitchen.

The physical contact shook him a little, and he had to concentrate on staying upright and steady on his feet.

“I need your help,” she said, looking up at him, her swimming pool eyes growing to Olympic standard size.

He swallowed and soaked up her attention. “Anything,” he managed to say.

She beamed up at him. “I knew you would! You just might be the best thing that could have happened to me right now.”

Kris blinked the desperation from his eyes—they were dripping with it, he could tell—as they approached Gityd’s loud family, sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast, along with Adam and Simon. The Spawns of Satan (a nickname that fit better than the Three Wild Things, he decided after reading chapter 11) were up to their usual antics, trying to make Willy/Jeffy laugh hard enough that milk would come out of his nose. AV was writing out a list of wedding errands for her husband to accomplish that day, and Uncle Jeb was feigning interest. MJ was reading her Kindle—a wireless reading devise for first-rate readers—but she switched it off when she saw Kris, and smiled a hello. He nodded in reply.

“He said yes, mom,” Gityd announced, hugging Kris’s arm. “He’s gonna do it.”

Kris didn’t exactly know what he had agreed to, and he was too distracted by Simon, who was staring pointedly at Gityd’s arm looped threw his, to form the words to ask. When he left the restaurant last night, the plan had been for him and MJ to take the Spawns of Satan to Sea World. Apparently, that had changed.

“Kris! You are a life saver,” AV said, getting to her feet and grabbing him in a bear hug. Gityd dropped his arm, went to the far end of the table, and took her usual seat on Simon’s knee. Simon sat back with arms folded and stared at Kris as if he was judging a singing competition, and found Kris’s performance to be rather Karaoke.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, mate?” Adam asked, skeptically.

Kris nodded, but he was beginning to feel a little nervous. MJ was giving him looks of pity, too. Whatever they wanted him to do, it couldn’t be worse than spending the day babysitting the Spawns of Satan, could it?

“We were supposed to have months to make all the arrangements, now we only have two weeks!” AV said, stress making her voice pitch higher. “It’s gonna be a long day. Did you have breakfast?” AV asked him.

“Yeah, I had a milk chocolate Slim*Fast on the way over.”

“Oh no, you’re not on a diet, are you?” AV asked, inspecting his trim, yet toned and muscular body, with some concern.

“No, I don’t drink them for dieting purposes. They just taste delicious.”

“Well, it’s clearly doing wonders for your abs,” AV said, patting his rock-hard stomach in a motherly way. Then she went to clear breakfast table, shooing Fred, Willy and Jeffy away in the process. “Go upstairs and get ready, boys,” she said, and then she addressed the group as she wiped down the table. “So it’s all settled. Adam and I will take his cherry red Mazda, and go haggle with that horrible florist—I can’t believe she thinks we would pay almost 50% more for a rush order!” She shook her head, her eyes narrowing at the audacity of hopeful florists. Then she motioned to Jeb with her dirty dishrag. “Jeb, you’ll take the white minivan, drop the boys off at the library…” (Kris was taken aback at the thought of Satan’s Spawns defiling a library!) “… and then go straight to the cake shop and order that cake we fell in love with yesterday. Then pick up the rest of things on that list I gave you.” AV turned to Simon next, who looked completely bored. “You’re in charge of interviewing that list of possible DJs. You’ll drive your Ford Fusion Hybrid, of course.” Then AV turned to Kris. “And you’re taking the girls to their fitting in your pearl toned Suzuki XL7 SUV that looks like a minivan.”

Gityd was chatting a mile a minute, and Kris alternated between watching her and watching the road. He was trying to live in the moment, and not let it bother him that he was on his way to dress shop with Gityd, who was to be fitted for her wedding gown so she could marry another man in two weeks. Even the idea of Gityd in a wedding gown made his hands turn to wet sponges; he was afraid to find out how his body would react when he actually saw her in it. But he couldn’t bring himself to back-out of the task, either. AV was so stressed out, if offering his transportation services relieved even a small amount of her burden, he couldn’t refuse.

MJ was sitting in the backseat behind Gityd, staring out the window. In contrast with her yappy sister, MJ was low-energy today. Maybe she’s tired, Kris thought as he glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She hadn’t said much of anything to him this morning. And she hadn’t sent him a single text since last night. He found himself listening intently for that “Doodledoot” sound, checking repeatedly for missed texts, and feeling more anxious as each minute passed without hearing from her. Is she mad at me or something? But “mad” wasn’t the right word, she seemed more… uninterested.

Kris was checking on MJ in his rearview mirror, trying to figure out what the deal was, when Gityd suddenly screamed.

“Oh! My! GOSH!!!” she said.

Kris jumped, his right tire crossing the median and narrowly missing an oncoming car.

“MJ! It’s our song!!!” Gityd yelled, turning up the volume up on the radio a few notches.

“Did I tell you you’re wonderful…” she belted out, and Kris resisted his first instinct, which was to bind his ears in duct tape.

Whoa, she’s completely tone deaf, he realized, way pitchy. This was surprising, considering that her speaking voice was music to his ears. But Gityd didn’t seem to care that she sounded like a key scratching a zigzag pattern down the side of a truck. She sang with such enthusiasm and self-assurance that Kris could only admire her confidence.

When the chorus hit, MJ joined in, and Kris’s eyes shot up to watch her in the rearview mirror. He smiled, because her voice was really nice, pitch-perfect with a unique tone.

They pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall where the dress shop was located before the song was over, and Gityd insisted that they sit in his car and finish singing the song. Kris joined in, then, his voice finding a natural harmony with MJ. MJ finally looked at him, and they shared a smile.

A few lines into the last verse, Kris felt Gityd watching him again. His heart fluttered as they locked eyes, just as they had in the restaurant last night, but this time, she was trying to sing harmony with him and MJ at the same time and it sounded like a cat getting its guts ripped out.

“Song’s over!” he said with relief, turning off his car.

Flanking the dress shop was a grocery store and a blood donor bank, and because of where he had parked, they had to walk by the blood bank to get to the dress shop. A man was leaving the blood bank just as they were walking by, and when the door opened, the smell of blood wafted to sidewalk and slapped Kris in the face. He cringed. The smell of blood always made him a bit queasy. Once, in his high school biology class, they’d had to prick their fingers to find out their blood type, and he’d almost fainted. It was not his finest moment, being carried to the office by his friend, Mike Newtron.

“Does the blood bother you,” MJ asked, giving him that raised-eyebrow look.

Kris shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell her the fainting story, so he jogged forward and opened the door to the dress shop, motioning her and Gityd forward. “After you.” He had found out that day in high school that he was a universal blood donor—type O negative. Ever since then, he’d felt this internal pressure to donate blood, but he could never bring himself to do it. There were only a few scenarios in which he would even consider donating blood, so if his life story was being plotted out in a book, the author would have to get pretty creative if she/he wanted to create a scenario in which he would donate blood, and possibly faint.

The proprietor of the dress shop was a proper schoolmarm-type lady, who wore her hair pulled back in a tight bun, held herself stiffly erect, and had a permanent look of disapproval on her face. She instructed MJ to try on her bridesmaid dress first, while Kris and Gityd took a seat in two floral armchairs that faced the dressing rooms. When MJ came out wearing a purple monstrosity, Kris thought he was being punked.

“It’s perfect!” Gityd said, jumping to her feet and running to her sister. “I LOVE this color!”

Kris casually cupped his hand over his mouth, first to hide his smile, and then to keep the laughter from bursting out. It was the ugliest, most unflattering dress, he had ever seen. Even MJ, who had a nice trim figure (Kris admitted, dispassionately), looked about ten pounds heavier in all those ruffles. But the worst part was the single sleeve, puffed up to almost MJ’s eyelevel. Kris was about to loose it, so he got up and walked over to the front desk, pretending interest in some of the flyers resting there.

“Please, [Gityd], this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” MJ was saying, and a laugh escaped from Kris’s pursed lips. “It’s not even symmetrical. It took me ten minutes to figure out which hole to put my head through. What is with this sleeve?”

Kris decided it would be best if he stepped outside. Once out-of-sight, he allowed himself to picture MJ in that purple dress and had a good laugh. It didn’t escape his notice that he would not be laughing if he’d been picturing Gityd in her yellow dress from that Olan Mills picture.

He was leaning against the brick wall, with his knee up, senior portrait style, when Gityd poked her head out of the store.

“Kris, what are you doing out here? I’m about to try on my dress! Come back inside.”

“Oh, sure. All right,” he said, following her reluctantly.

MJ was back in her dressing room, changing out of that dress, so he wasn’t forced to see her in it again, but he was afraid that the image was forever burned into his retinas. He sat down in the floral chair beside Gityd and shot MJ a text: You look adorable in purple.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Shutty.

Kris smiled, and sent: I will never forget how you look in that dress.

Doodledoot.

MJ: That, and 9-11.

Kris was laughing down at that text when he felt Gityd leaning toward him. “What are you texting? Is it something funny?” she asked.

He put his phone down and cleared his throat, searching his mind for a reply, but was saved from answering when the dress lady told Gityd it was her turn to be fitted. She jumped up, and her seat was soon occupied by MJ, who walked out of the dressing room wearing jeans and a white V-neck, looking ten pounds lighter.

Kris was surprised by how much he looked forward to having MJ to himself, just to talk to. When Gityd was around, he felt so entranced that he couldn’t really be himself.

“Before I forget,” he said, “I like your voice. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”

She shrugged. “I just sing for fun. I would never enter a nation-wide televised singing contest or anything.”

Kris shook his head. “It’s just weird that you and your sister are so different.”

“I know, right? She’s tone deaf and color blind. I swear, I will not make my bridesmaids wear something so unflattering—”

“What do you mean?” Kris interrupted in surprise. “You told me you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“No, I didn’t mean I’m getting married anytime soon, I just meant that when I do get married…”

Kris felt as if a sandbag had been dumped on his chest, and then before it could crush him, it was quickly lifted away. He was about to examine why he would feel such relief over MJ not being engaged, when he heard Gityd clearing her throat. His head turned toward her, and then his eyes soaked-up the sight of her, like a sunflower straining toward sunlight. And she did look like sunlight, wearing a pale yellow wedding gown…

The dress lady was shaking her head, disapprovingly. “Never in all my years as a wedding dress shop proprietor, have I had a request to dye one of our gowns yellow. It’s simply unheard of.”

“I adore it!” Gityd said passionately, hugging the full skirt of her dress, as if it was a giant stuffed duck she had won at the county fair.

The dress lady was looking her up and down. “Well, you must adore it, if you’re willing to pay this much.”

Gityd dropped her duck. “What do you mean?”

The dress lady detailed the additional costs of rushing the dress order, and Gityd’s eyes flooded with tears. “Mom is gonna flip about the price increase. I don’t know if she can afford it—” she stopped as something caught her eye on the window over Kris’s chair.

Kris turned, following the path of her eyes. A poster, hanging behind him, read: “Ask about our bridal party universal blood donor discount.”

Gityd sniffed away her tears and asked, “What’s the bridal party universal blood donor discount?”

The dress lady folded her arms and said, “That’s only if someone in your bridal party is a universal donor, and is willing to donate two pints of blood to the blood bank next door.”

Kris felt a lump a dread forming in the back of his throat…

“Don’t look at me,” MJ said. “I’m AB positive.”

Then Gityd turned her swimming pool eyes, that were swimming with tears, to Kris, and he dived in without holding his breath. “I’m a universal donor,” he said, getting shakily to his feet.

“He’s in your wedding party?” the dress lady asked, skeptically, peering over her glasses at him.

“He’s the groom,” Gityd blurted.

Kris about peed his pants.

“The groom?” the dress lady said, more doubt creeping into her expression. “And he came to your dress fitting? To see the dress before the wedding? That’s highly untraditional.”

“Of course,” Gityd said, picking up the bottom of her yellow, foofy wedding dress and marching toward him. “We’re democrats.” Then she dropped her handfuls of sunshine and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Go donate blood for me?” she whispered sweetly, placing her lips on his cheek.

MJ went with him to blood bank while Gityd finished her fitting. The red, universal blood donor discount form from the dress shop was in his grasp, and he folded it three times so his hands would have something to do other than shake, as he waited for the nurse to prepare the blood extracting tools.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” MJ asked him. She was sitting to his left, her elbow propped on his chair.

“How can I not do it? It’ll save your mom a few hundred dollars.”

“This is just a technicality, but you aren’t actually the groom,” she said quietly. “If you were, AV would expect you to do this, but since you’re not… I dunno. I think you’re really doing this for [Gityd], and if you are—”

“You think I’m pathetic.” Kris was more worried about her answer than he should have been. Maybe it was because he hoped she would become his sister-in-law one day.

She sighed. “You’re not pathetic, it’s just that—”

“Put that paper down,” the nurse said, butchly, coming at Kris with her long sword-like needle. “And you better not watch. You’re a fainter. I can spot ‘em a mile away…”

It occurred to Kris that he was about to pass-out just as all the color in the room faded into a washed-out version of black and white. Then the room titled and…

…when Kris came back to and opened his eyes, he was reclined on the blood bank’s fainting couch. He tried to sit up, and almost fell off.

“Whoa, you’re swaying,” MJ said, sitting down beside him. “You’re still a little lightheaded. Here, try putting your head between your knees.” Kris planted his feet on the floor and allowed MJ to gently force his head down. Anything, if it meant he didn’t have to look her in the eye.

She left him for a minute and came back with a cool cloth. “Try this,” she said.

“Mm fine,” he slurred, and then took her offering. “Thanks,” he mumbled with his head down, his forearms braced on his knees. He covered his face with the wet cloth.

“Tell me when you feel better,” she said.

He nodded. “Did I give blood?” he mumbled into his cloth.

“No,” she said, and the laughter in her voice made him feel like a bigger idiot.

Then he felt something comforting on his back, like a soft beanbag, made of worn-out old jeans. It was MJ’s hand. At first, he was too lightheaded to comprehend more than that, but as his head started to clear, he became very aware of her smallish hand roaming the valley of his back in small, soothing circles. It was so relaxing.

“Feels nice,” he mumbled.

Her hand stilled on his back. “Are you falling asleep?”

He mumbled, “Not at all,” in reply, but he was.

Her hand continued its soothing pattern and he exhaled a relaxed sigh, his head dipping lower, and his shoulders swaying ‘N sync with the circular pattern she was tracing on his back. After a few more minutes, she asked, “Are you feeling better?”

He couldn’t even form words, he was so sleepy. “Hmmm.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” she asked, gently, “because nurse Meyer is ready for your blood.”

Chapter 11: Destiny

2009-06-04T06:00:00.000-07:00

By Landee

Kris arrived at The Azteca about a half an hour after everyone else. When he had driven MJ and the three Spawns of Satan back to Adam’s house the white minivan wasn’t there indicating that Gityd wasn’t either. He let them jump out, made sure they could get in through the garage code and headed for home. He hadn’t showered since the day before and he was sick of smelling like yesterday. Actually, the more he thought about it the more he realized he probably reeked. Ten minutes in CEC and you smell like stale urine and grease. He had worked (almost) an entire four hour shift! Add to that all the emotions of despair, obliterated hope, torturous babysitting duty, waffles and a day at the zoo and Kris thought he should probably just burn the clothes he had been wearing.

After a long hot shower, a perfectly tousled style of his hair and an application of Axe Body Spray for Men that he had bought on his way home, Kris walked into the restaurant now confident in his personal hygiene. He knew Simon wore Axe every day (reapplying at lunch) so he thought he’d give it a try. If that was something Gityd was attracted to then he wanted to level the playing field a little. He worried, however, that it was Simon’s chest hair she couldn’t resist and, as far as he knew, there wasn’t a product at CVS that could help him there.

It looked as if everyone had recently been seated as they all had their drinks but were still looking at their menus. The remaining unoccupied chair at the table for six was the farthest possible distance away from MJ, who was deep into a conversation with AV at the moment. This caused a fleeting feeling of disappointment to Kris, which surprised him a little. Fleeting, however, because a split second later his eyes rested on the most beautiful face he thought he would ever see. Gityd. Would he ever get used to the lightening bolt to his heart he felt every time he looked at her? She was particularly animated and beaming as she told Adam all about the various wedding plans they had nailed down that day. Simon sat with an arm around the back of Gityd’s chair, looking completely bored with the conversation that was taking place. He kept glancing back over his shoulder as if he was searching for something or someone more interesting. Kris even thought he saw his eyes follow the derriere of a waitress passing by.

“Hey, you gize. Sorry I’m a little late,” Kris said as he pulled out his chair. At the sound of his voice MJ abruptly stopped her conversation with AV and looked up at him like a cat with a canary in its mouth. She then raised one of her eyebrows and gave him a little grin. I like it when she raises her eyebrow like that, Kris thought. And then he immediately wondered why he had even noticed.

“Somesing to drink, Senor?” the authentic Hispanic waiter asked.

“Uh…. do you, by chance, have Diet Dr. Pepper?” Kris asked quietly in an attempt to not let MJ hear. For some reason he didn’t want her thinking that she was the one who had turned him on to his new obsession.

“No, Senor.”

“Hey, no problemo. I’ll just have a Diet Coke,” Kris said, dying a little inside.

He glanced down at MJ who gave him a little “what up” up-nod as she presumptuously declared victory on the diet beverage battle.

Kris allowed the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly and he gave a little shrug as looked back down at his menu. He then began to intently “study” the menu as he listened in on Gityd and Adam’s wedding conversation, which hadn’t skipped a beat upon his arrival.

“… and then,” Gityd continued, “we found the most amazing ice sculpture guy. He can do anything. Right, babe? Babe? Anywayz, amazing stuff. I think I want him to do the cover of Twilight… you know, those two hands holding the apple? Wouldn’t that be A. MAY. ZING?” Adam covered his mouth so his squeal of excitement wouldn’t disturb the other patrons of the restaurant.

“It’s like she’s been snooping through your wedding binder, dood,” Kris mumbled to Adam so only he could hear. Adam kicked him under the table. Kris kept looking at his menu as if nothing happened. He was actually glad for the physical pain. His brain focused on that for a moment rather than the crushing feeling his heart was currently undertaking. It was like his chest was in a vice and with each detail of the wedding revealed it cinched tighter and tighter. He began to second guess coming tonight. But at the same time, he knew that choice was not his to make. He couldn’t not be here and he knew that. He also knew he hated double negatives and he hated himself for using one now.

“…oh, and the best part! I totally forgot! The BEST part was when we stopped by this gorgeous old house my friend Katie told me about. The people have completely redone it and they rent it out for parties, bar mitzvahs and weddings and stuff. Absolutely beautiful, Adam. Exactly where I’ve always imagined my dream wedding would be. I canNOT wait to take you there…” Kris allowed himself to look up from his menu and look at her. He had to make the pain worth it some how. She was so into her description of the house she didn’t even notice his staring. He watched her eyes… their perfect almond shape and the way they lit up the room as she spoke. Her hair… perfect sweeping bangs that framed her perfect oval shaped face. Her cheeks…slender and perfectly smooth. Her lips… full, perfect and breathtaking. Her perfect neck….. her perfect collar bone ….. her perfect….

“Ahem,” Simon said/coughed.

Kris looked at Simon, startled. Simon raised an eyebrow and looked directly into Kris’ eyes. Somehow, Kris didn’t like that eyebrow move on Simon as much as he did on MJ. Kris looked back down at his menu, humiliated. That British jagbag, Kris thought. Him and his sexy accent that makes anything he says sound brilliant and all that chest hair…. Son of a….

“Um, ok… well, let’s see here….” Kris perked up again at the sound of Gityd’s voice. Her indulgent wedding talk had been interrupted by the waiter and she was now ordering. “Well, I don’t like chicken… well, any meat really, but especially chicken. Unless it’s all dried out and practically burnt. Do you have anything like that?” She looked up at the waiter who looked back at her dumbfounded.

“No, seniorita. You no like meat? Maybe you try a cheese enchilada? You like a rice and beans, yes?”

“Uuuuhhh…. shoot… I really only kinda like the Lean Cuisine lasagna with extra cheese melted on top. Do you have any of that?” she asked as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. The waiter obviously did not know what to say.

What the…. is she serious? Kris wondered. She can’t be serious. She doesn’t like meat? Lean Cuisine lasagna? Wow. I was not expecting this.

“Love, they don’t have lasagna here. It’s a Mexican restaurant. Just get a bloody bean burrito off the kid’s menu as usual and quit announcing your insane food issues to the world,” Simon said, though with his British accent it didn’t come off nearly as rude as it was.

Ok, well, I guess she had to have at least one flaw, Kris reasoned with himself as he stared at his menu. He immediately pictured his future with Gityd and it was filled with meatless entrees and microwave dinners. I could get used to it though, he again reasoned. I’d rather eat a thousand Lean Cuisine dinners with her than one delicious, protein filled, home-cooked meal without her, he finally decided. I mean, we don’t have to have everything in common. Really, we don’t have to have anything in common as long as I get to drown into those swimming pool eyes for the rest of my life.

During the break in the wedding plans discussion, AV told Adam all about the bi-lingual immersion school the Three Amigos were enrolled in. She had a great deal to say about educational reform and Bill Gates as well. Kris didn’t care that the information was way above his head/boring. She could have recited the phonebook for all Kris cared. He was just glad the wedding talk had stopped.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Having fun?

Kris smirked and without looking down to the end of the table texted back.

Beetlebeep.

Kris: True day.

Beetlebeep.

Kris: Dat.

Beetlebeep.

Kris: Dang autocorrect.

MJ was giggling.

Doodledoot.

MJ: Sure you are. I’ve watched you go from looking like a deer in headlights to looking ill to looking bored. Btw, I can smell Simon from here. It’s like he doubled up on the cologne tonight. ::gagging::

Nothing gets by her, Kris thought as he pretended to wipe his face on his shoulder in order to catch a whiff of himself. She was right. The Axe smell was overpowering. He tried to shoot her that raised eyebrow look to act as if he didn’t know what she was talking about and realized his face refused to move that way. He quickly looked down at his phone and texted.

Beetlebeep.

Kris: He’s an oily bohunk.

Doodledoot.

MJ: True day.

She didn’t correct herself.

Just then the server began bringing out the food. He set down Gityd’s simple bean burrito in front of her with disdain on his face as if it were poison, or at least a waste of a meal.

“Chicken chimichanga?” the server then asked holding up the other plate with a hot pad.

“Right here,” Kris and MJ said simultaneously.

“We got a side of guacamole, a side of sour cream and no pico,” the server added looking at the plate more closely now.

“That’d be me.”

“Yup. That’s mine.”

Kris and MJ looked at each other astonished.

“Did you copy me?” Kris said with a laugh.

“Oh yeah… after your divine choice of half Tigers Blood and half Root Beer on your snow cone at the zoo earlier I knew you had amazing taste in food and vowed to never stray from your diet… of course I didn’t copy you!” MJ replied. “We must have rubbed off on each other more than I thought today.” If she would have winked right then it wouldn’t have surprised Kris. But she didn’t. Instead she just looked at him with that one eyebrow raised again. Show off, thought Kris. A cute show off, I’ll give her that. But still, just a show off.

Kris felt the eyes on him before he looked up and saw them. They were looking at him. No, they were more than merely looking at him. They were peering into his very being and shook him to the core. Kris thought this might be the first time Gityd had ever really looked at him. He might as well have been sitting there completely naked for how exposed he felt. She was feeling something. Kris knew she was. The look on her face was without expression but not without emotion. He would have given anything in the world to have Edward’s power of reading minds right then. They locked eyes and it was as if no one else was in the restaurant. No Adam. No Simon. No authentic Hispanic waiter….
“Senor… Senor?” the waiter, who apparently was still there, was saying. “More diet?”
“Wha? Oh, yeah. Gracias,” Kris stammered, failing miserably to appear relaxed and casual. He looked up at the waiter for a moment and when he back at Gityd she was looking down at her hands in her lap. She then looked up at Simon and smiled faintly.
“So anyway, where was I,” said Gityd suddenly. “Oh yeah. So this house was gorgeous, blah blah blah… and we started talking to the manager of the place who just happened to be there weeding the garden or something. And anywayz, he looked at their schedule and they are completely booked solid starting three weeks from now until the end of October.”

October, thought Kris as he did the math in his head. Ok. That gives me at least six months to prove to her that I am the man she should be with. To show her what a jag Simon is. To make her feel for me what I feel for her. All I need is some time. I know she felt something earlier. I just need time to…to make her realize that we are…

“So,” said Gityd as a smile spread across her face, “we are getting married in two weeks!”

…destined to be together.

Chapter 10: Phone Trickery

2009-06-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

By Jespy Espy

Kris kept a close eye on the Skyfari aerial tram, Number 77, gliding along the cable in front of him. Its side-to-side sway was making him nervous, considering they were at least 20 stories above the leafy treetops of the San Diego Zoo… and the sway was getting progressively worse.

When Number 77 teetered sharply to the left, paused, and then pendulumed back to the right, he braced his hands against the caging on either side of him, as if balancing out his own tram could somehow stop the tram in front of him from swinging out of control. “They’re gonna flip that thing over,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

MJ, who was slouched on the small bench across from him, straightened and looked over her shoulder at Number 77. “Hey!” she yelled to her brothers, “Quit it! Or we won’t feed you dinner!” Then she turned back around without waiting to see if her threat was effective, sunk down into a comfortable position, and began texting again.

Her threat seemed to do the trick. The violent rocking slowed to a soft sway, anyway. But Kris couldn’t seem to relax and put the impending doom of Number 77 out of his mind the way MJ could. He was feeling guilty, he realized. Guilty for suggesting that Fred fib about his age, so he could meet the zoo’s minimum age requirement for accompanying minors on the small Skyfari aerial trams. It had been a long day, and he just wanted a moment of peace and quiet—something that would have been impossible to achieve, wedged into a small tram with the Three Wild Things. MJ, he didn’t worry about. Any conversation between the two of them had pretty much ended on the drive to the zoo.

It was his fault. He hadn’t felt like talking, so he stopped responding to her attempts at conversation. If she asked him a question, he would give her short answers or just shrug. Eventually, she gave up, and since then, throughout the entire long, hot day at the zoo, they'd only had a handful of exchanges, all of which concerned the mischief of Fred, Willy, and Jeffy.

Now, sitting across from MJ without any idea what to say, he almost regretted giving her the cold shoulder. Not completely, just almost.

Number 77 began to pick up the sideways swing again, as the boys chanted something and pumped their fists in the air. Kris tensed. A little peace and quiet wasn’t worth risking the lives of Gityd’s brothers. How would he explain that to her? “Sorry my lack of supervision killed your brothers, Gityd. Please forgive me, and know that I would lay down and die for you. Lay down. On a bed of roses. And die.”

“Stop worrying. They’re not complete idiots,” MJ said, interrupting his thoughts.

“What? Yeah, I know, I just feel like one of us should have gone in their tram to keep them under control—”

“One of us… meaning me? Remember, you were the one who volunteered for this job; I was forced into it. What happened to ‘Mr. Nice Guy In Love,’ who got down on his knee beside a garden gnome and begged my sister for the privilege of babysitting her brothers so she could plan her wedding to another man?” She said all of this very matter-of-factly, without a trace of bitterness or anger... and without looking up from her texting.

Kris clinched down on his back teeth to keep from coming back with an angry retort. But the clinching wasn’t necessary because he couldn’t think of a comeback anyway (and neither could I). All he could think about was ripping that stupid phone out of her hands and chucking it out of the Skyfari in the approximate direction of the duck pond, so if it somehow survived the fall, it would land in the pond and get wet, which would void her warranty. LOL.

He heard the now-familiar “beetlebeep” sound, indicating that she had received another text, and he rolled his eyes. For some reason, MJ’s constant texting bothered him more than the little jab she had given him regarding his unrequited love for her sister. It was a waste of time for him to deny his feelings toward Gityd—MJ was too perceptive and he would just make himself look like a bigger fool. But the fact that she would carry on a secret conversation with someone else when he was sitting right in front of her, no explanation of who she was texting, no blaming the other party, no half-hearted apology… it was as if he was completely invisible to her… and that drove him nuts. He was a texter himself, but he was polite about it, he knew the social bounds…

Beetlebeep.

“Who are you texting?” he snapped.

“None of your beeswax,” she said evenly.

Kris narrowed his eyes at her. Then he leaned forward and pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket. He tapped the “text” app, and texted the first person on his list, who happened to be Adam: This MJ is a pain in the A. Won’t stop testing!!! Then he hit “send.”

Texting was a lot like fishing, Kris always thought. He would throw out a line to someone, and then he would sit back and wait. Sometimes he got a bite within a few seconds, sometimes it took much longer to get a bite, and sometimes he would get nothing at all. He prayed that Adam would reply this time—

Doodledoot. <--the sound Kris's phone made when he received a text.

He smiled when he caught a glimpse of MJ looking up from her phone at him.

“Did you get a text?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Who from?”

“Adam,” he said with a casual shrug. He didn’t want it to seem as if he was throwing this text in her face, although he was. In your face, MJ!

“What does it say?” she asked.

He read it to himself…

Adam: Kris, you’re a pain in the A. Stop testing me.

Kris cleared his throat and said, “Nothing.”

“He sent you a text that said ‘nothing,’ or are you trying to say that you’re not going to tell me what he said?”

Before Kris could answer, MJ got another text. Beetlebeep. And she was once again distracted, focused on her phone, her thumbs ticking out a quick reply to some mystery recipient.

Kris sent off another text to Adam that said: Send me another text, asap.

Doodledoot.

Adam: Grow up.

MJ looked up. “Did you get another text from Adam?”

“Yeah. It’s private though.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Her thumbs tapped away on her phone…

Out of nowhere, Kris was inexplicably desperate to get MJ’s attention. He wished he knew who his competition was. Was she texting a friend? A boyfriend? He didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend. He didn’t know much of anything about her, and it would stay that way as long as she continued to ignore him in favor of whoever she was texting. He needed to receive another text to get her attention, and he was just about to cast out another fishing line, when his phone buzzed…

Dootledoot.

He got a text. It was not from anyone on his “contact list,” so there was no name attached, just a number that he did not recognize.

867-5309: Wuz up, nerd?

Kris’s brow furrowed. Nerd? He didn’t even try to figure out who this was, he simply replied: Who is this?

A longer pause followed, and just when he thought the person wasn’t going to reply, he got one.

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Adam’s friend. Said you were begging him for texts cuz you needed to impress some girl. He texted me your number and asked me to take care of it. He’s busy.

Kris glanced up at MJ, but she was texting away again. “I got another text,” he told her.

“I heard.”

Kris texted a reply: Thanks, man. Not really to impress her, tho, just to let her know that she’s not the only one who has someone better to talk to.

While he waited for a reply from Adam’s friend, Kris snuck casual glances at MJ. Small frown lines marked her brow as she read her most recent text, and he wondered if she had just received bad news. What if it was something concerning Gityd? He wanted to ask, but…

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Tell me about it. I’ve been stuck hanging out with the biggest Debbie Downer all day. I’m bored out of my mind!

Kris thought, ah, someone who can relate. He typed back: That sucks. Is she sitting right in front of you, testing some other guy, tho?

He hit send. Letting out all of his frustrations to this virtual stranger seemed to be making him even angrier with the girl sitting across from him. One part of him knew it was an irrational anger. After all, he had given her the cold shoulder first. He tried to reason with himself, but he couldn’t control these feelings of…

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Are you jealous?

Wha…? he thought. Jealous? Why would this guy think I’m jealous?

He scrolled back through his conversation with 867-5309, looking at it from an unbiased perspective. Man, I guess I do sound jealous, he thought. And if he was being honest, the reason he sounded jealous was because he felt jealous.

If Adam had been the one asking, Kris would have lied like a dog, because Adam would have gotten the wrong idea, and concluded that he was into MJ… and he definitely wasn’t. Not in a romantic way. But he did feel jealous. There was no reason for him to cover up his feelings to this complete stranger. In fact, it felt good to admit the truth to him. Therapeutic.

Kris: Yes.

He waited for a response. MJ hadn’t looked up from her phone in a while. She must have lost interest in the fact that Kris was receiving texts. He saw a small smile stretch across her face, and he thought she must have gotten a good text. He hoped it was something about Gityd, but he wondered if it was some flirty text from a boyfriend.

They were reaching the end of the Skyfari cable line, so Kris sat up and cleared his throat. “Almost time to get off,” he said to MJ. “You might want to put your phone down and actually pay attention for once.”

MJ glanced back and judged the distance. “Thanks for the kind warning, but we’ve got at least five more minutes.” Then she settled back down with her phone.

“Is it a guy?” Kris asked, and then hated himself for sounding like such a jealous idiot. He quickly adjusted his tone to sound more light and conversational. “I mean, do you have a boyfriend?” It came out sharp and rude instead.

“Yes, it’s a guy, and no I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, without looking up.

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Nothing wrong with a little jealousy, but be nice.

Kris read the text. He started to type back that of course he would be nice, he was always nice, and a little jealousy would not change that, but then he stopped and backspaced the whole thing. He was being a jerk, and he knew it. He took a deep breath and said, “MJ?” When she looked over at him with that wary expression on her face, he almost wasn't able to say it. But he forced the words out. “I’m sorry,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to detail all that he was sorry about—his rude behavior in the car, barely speaking to her all day, showing no appreciation for her help with the Three Wild Things, snapping at her in jealous outbursts—he figured she knew that he was apologizing about the whole day.

She stared at him for a minute, as if deciding whether to accept his apology, and then she looked down at her phone tapped out a text…

Doodledoot.

867-5309: All is forgiven, Kris.

Kris froze. His face was a red flag: the international signal for utter humiliation. His eyes stayed glued to his iPhone screen, as if he wasn’t yet finished reading this four-word text. Because the second he was done reading, she would know that he knew. Finally, he typed: Is this MJ? Then he moved his thumb over to that green button and hit send.

Beetlebeep.

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Yes.

The Skyfari ride came to an end and the zoo employee ushered them out of the tram.

“We hope you enjoyed your ride on Skyfari, quickly, quickly, have a nice day, move along quickly,” said a man in a tan safari shirt, who was waving them toward a flight of stairs leading down to the ground level.

MJ was using a distracting technique to get her hyper brothers under control, asking them questions about their Skyfari ride and their favorite thing they did today. Kris waked beside them lamely as they made their way to the exit of the zoo.

He wasn’t mad at her. He was too embarrassed to be mad. And MJ wasn’t rubbing his stupidity in his face or anything. In fact, she was acting as if nothing embarrassing had happened at all.

“I gotta go pee!” Willy suddenly shouted, crossing his legs. Or maybe it was Jeffy?

“I’ll take him,” Kris said.

In the bathroom, he closed himself in a stall and leaned against the door. Then he scrolled back through his conversation with MJ, and felt his face heat up all over again. Why did he make himself re-live that? It was like sliding down a hill of razor blades and then walking over to a nearby pool of rubbing alcohol and jumping in. He hadn’t felt this stupid in a long time, and he hoped MJ wouldn’t tell Gityd about it. He could just imagine them having a good laugh about it… that definitely wouldn’t earn him any points.

Willy/Jeffy called out, “Are you taking a dump in there or what? Hurry up!”

They were in the parking lot, making their way towards his car, when he got another text.

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Do you like Mexican food?

Kris glanced at MJ, who was walking right beside him, and then texted a reply: Yeah.

Beetlebeep.

Doodledoot.

867-5309: Good. AV was texting me earlier. Wants me to meet up with them for dinner. Tori will be there. Plus Adam and Simon. Thought you might want to come too…

Kris didn’t allow his hopes to rise just yet. He frowned at the Three Wild Things, who were running ahead of them, leaping over speed bumps, and then texted: What about FWJ?

Beetlebeep.

Dootledoot.

867-5309: My dad’s taking them to CEC for dinner. Simon hooked him up.

Of course, Kris thought. The devil’s playground. Perfect place for three devils.

Kris smiled and texted: Then I guess I’m having Mexican food tonight.

And he added to himself, with Gityd.

Every step he took… closer to his Suzuki XL7, closer to guacamole and chips, closer to Gityd… he felt lighter and happier. The day had been worth it, he decided. And if he had to repeat it again, with only the smallest chance of seeing Gityd at the end of it, he would do it in a heartbeat.

He buckled himself in, and while MJ tried to convince Fred to stop screwing around and buckle up, Kris sent one more text: Thanks, MJ. UR#1. i O u 1.

Then he added her to his contacts.

Chapter 9: Nectar

2009-06-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

by Landeelu

As they drove down Highway 5 and headed toward the San Diego Zoo, Kris was grateful for the roominess of his Suzuki XL7. He hadn’t had the need for his third row bench seat before but it was certainly being used now. The two youngest boys… Freddy and Willy, or was that Jeffy and Freddy?...were bouncing up and down on the seats singing some song they had made up. The chorus of said song went something like “…we can poop and scoop at the saaaaaame time…” and the hand motions were anything but polite. The oldest boy sat quietly in the front seat with his iPod going and occasionally turned around to punch one of his brothers if they got too close to him. Kris thought he might head straight to a clinic and get a vasectomy right now.

This makes me realize my job at CEC was a dream. Stamp their hands and never see them again. Now I’m driving around future convicts in my car. My car that I own outright, btw.

“Jeffery! William! Sit. Down. NOW,” said MJ from the front seat. “And Fred… srsly… stop hitting them. They like the attention.”

Kris glanced over at her and noticed she was grinning. How could she possibly be enjoying herself? This was worse than any hell he’d ever imagined. He also made a mental note that Fred was the oldest one. The other two, who were almost indistinguishable, would just have to be known simply as “the twins.” He had neither the patience nor the desire to figure out which one was which right now.

“I need a Sonic, what about you?” he asked MJ.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said beaming.

“Here,” he said, handing her his iPhone. “Type Sonic in here and let me know where the closest one is from here.”

She typed it in, hit the closest “pin pointed Sonic” and they veered off the highway.

He couldn’t help but think about what Gityd was doing right now. They had left the house at about the same time as everyone else discussing plans of which florist to visit first and what kind of a budget for party favors they could swing. The last image he had in his mind was her getting into AV’s white minivan. Kris had watched them from the front step of Adam’s house. Gityd had stood by the door of the van, obviously giving Simon the chance to open it for her. Simon didn’t even so much as look in Gityd’s direction and went to his own side of the van. He checked his reflection in the window, opened the extremely convenient automatic sliding side door and got in. Gityd had stood there for a moment then took a deep breath, put a smile back on her face and opened her own extremely convenient automatic sliding side door and got in by herself.

Kris had fought the urge to run to her. He wanted to not only open her door for her but to lay down his jacket for her to walk upon so her Skechers wouldn’t get any dirtier on the bottom than they already were. He wanted to get down on one knee and beg--

“You’re really amazing, you know,” MJ said suddenly, bringing the road back into focus.

“What?” asked Kris looking quickly back and forth between her and the road.

“Your music….it’s incredible.”

“When have you ever heard my music?” Kris asked, feeling a bit unsettled.

“Once, when Adam came up to Bakersfield, he brought a demo tape you two had made not that long before. He played it for me and I listened to a song you had done on there no less than a brazillion times,” she said pulling mindlessly at her seatbelt.

“Are you srs? Which song was it?” Kris and Adam hadn’t laid down a demo tape in almost two years and obviously, since he had no recording contract in hand, it sucked.

“It was that one song from the movie ‘Once’…. I think it’s called ‘Falling Slowly?’” she replied. “Just you and your guitar. It’s magical really. Like a knife in my chest every time I hear it." She made a gesture like she was twisting a knife into her sternum. "In the good way."

“In the good way, huh?” he said. A smile crept to his face but he kept his gaze forward. “Well thanks. I, uh…you know, I just really liked that movie and…uh…”

“Aw geez, Kris,” MJ said, suppressing a giggle, “Don’t get all awkward on me now! I just wanted to tell you that because you had plenty of other ones on there that were crap, believe me.”

“MJ! I need some chapstick!” one of the twins piped up from the back.

“I don’t have any Jeffy. I told you that when you asked me an hour ago,” replied MJ.

“I know for a fact you have five in your purse!!” Jeffy cried.

“A) Stay out of my purse and B) Fine, then I don’t have any that YOU can use. You don’t ever even brush your teeth, it’s disgusting,” MJ said as she leaned her head back on the headrest.

“But my lips hurt real bad!”

“Here bud,” said Kris, reaching over to his glove compartment. “You can use this,” and he tossed back an extremely old tub of Carmex.

“Thanks,” said MJ quietly so only Kris could hear and she flashed him a smile. Kris noticed that her teeth were perfectly straight, proportioned and the perfect shade of white. Not too white revealing they had been obviously bleached but gleaming white just the same. Kris was in to teeth. He realized he had never gotten a good look at Gityd’s teeth. Next time, he thought. Next time.

Kris pulled in to Sonic and spoke into the red box with the speaker.

“I’ll have a Route 44 Diet Coke aaaand…. what do you what?” he asked turning to MJ.

“Route 44 Diet Dr. Pepper, it’s the only way to go.”

“Sir, we are all out of the Diet Coke syrup. We’re sorry…. can we get you something else instead?” said the speaker box.

“What? Srsly? Um….ok….shoot…..let’s see… I guess I’ll have a Route 44 Diet Dr. Pepper too then,” replied Kris. He hadn’t ever even tried Diet Dr. Pepper due to his addiction to Diet Coke. This day was going downhill fast. Plus, it wasn’t even Happy Hour. He’d be paying full price for this baby.

He turned back to see what the boys wanted only to hear MJ explaining to them that AV had said, under no circumstances, could they eat or drink in Kris’ car. Apparently they had done some srs damage since they had gotten the van just months before.

“….the cup holder in the back is filled with some foreign substance that everyone is afraid of and you, YOU Freddy, have been hiding all your pickles in that compartment back there… just tell Mom you don’t like pickles on your cheeseburgers fhs!”

“Sooooo, nothing for the boys then?” Kris asked.

“No way. My dad gave me some money, we’ll just get them something to drink at the zoo. Plus my mom microwaved up a batch of nummy Chex Mix in this Trader Joe's bag here at my feet that we can feed them later. MJ paused for a moment, “And then Simon slipped me a twenty…. with a wink.” MJ feigned a shudder at the memory.

Kris couldn’t help but lollerz as he pulled around to the window. Kris handed the drinks to MJ so he could pay, at his insistence, for both beverages. MJ took the wrappers off both their straws like a pro and handed Kris’ drink back to him.

Kris took one sip of his Diet Dr. Pepper and for the second time in a matter of months, his world was thrown off its axis, though to a slightly lesser degree than before. The liquid that had spilled across his tongue and down his throat was like sweet nectar from on high. He had no idea a diet beverage could taste this way. It tasted like how he imagined angel’s breath smelled. How pure love felt. How the back of Gityd’s neck looked. How heaven must be.

Kris was a changed man. He vowed to never go back to Diet Coke again. Unless it was the only thing available at a restaurant or something, of course. Then he’d somehow manage to gag it down.

“Ow!” Kris cried, rubbing the back of his head. He looked down and discovered the culprit. The tub of Carmex was sitting in his lap. He adjusted his rearview mirror to get a good look at the twins so he could give them the evil eye but they were no where to be seen. He wrenched his body around in his seat to get a better look. He could hear them laughing as they crouched down out of view.

“Sorry,” MJ said letting the straw fall out of her mouth. “I’ll kick their scrawny little butts the second we get out of the car. I promise.” A look then crossed her face that was both apologetic and sad. “I know this-- being here with me-- is the last place on earth you want to be right now.”

Kris said nothing and pulled the car forward. This was going to be a horrendous day, and he couldn’t deny it. With each passing moment he was farther and farther away from Gityd while she was getting closer and closer to getting her wedding planned.

He pulled out into traffic and cranked up the radio. He suddenly didn’t feel like talking anymore.

Chapter 8: Simon's Secret

2009-06-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

by Jespy Espy

Fork in hand, Kris slowly got to his feet.

Gityd.

The soggy waffle slipped from his fork tongs and plopped to the floor. If someone didn’t clean that up, the syrup would cement it to the floor within hours. Still, he ignored it and gripped his fork tighter, as if it was an iron rod safely guiding him through the kitchen. He took a step towards destiny, but the fork pulled him to the right. Around the kitchen island, he realized. He had almost walked straight into it.

Then, something happened that brought him to a dead standstill:

Gityd turned around. Her face was exactly as Kris had remembered it, night after night. He had never seen more appealing features—everything was perfectly proportioned, her left side was a mirror image of her right (which, according to scientists, is the main factor in pretty-making). Her pale hair was pulled up in a sloppy-yet-charming ponytail. She had eyes that could bore holes into a person’s soul—blue, swimming pool eyes that you could dive into and drowned in if you didn’t have a life preserver.

Kris didn’t. And he was about to drown. Because those blue, swimming pool eyes were looking right past him, and directly at Simon. Adoringly.

“Kris,” AV said from behind him, “have you met my oldest daughter yet? She’s actually the reason we’re here in town…”

Kris couldn’t take his eyes off Gityd as she shrugged away Adam’s hand and danced her way around the kitchen island toward Simon at the far end of the breakfast table.

He was rooted to floor, trying to remember how to breathe, when Adam came to his side and nudged him back toward his chair.

“I think you need to sit down,” Adam mumbled, gently pressing his shoulder until he sat.

AV was still talking to Kris, introducing the other strangers at the table, all of whom were she and Jeb’s children. Kris tried to listen, but Gityd, sitting playfully on Simon’s knee, was distracting him. She opened her mouth in a silent plea for a piece of his bacon, and Simon sighed, broke off a ridiculously small corner, and threw it in her mouth, his hand darting back quickly to avoid a stray bite. Gityd munched on the offering and gave Simon a look like a baby bird that had just been given some lifesaving nourishment, and at the moment, Kris would have done anything to feed that baby bird his bacon.

Someone laughed. It was the girl sitting next to him—the one with the light brown hair. She was Gityd's sister, probably about a year younger than him, and she was looking pointedly at his fist. That’s when Kris realized that he had a death grip on a piece of bacon from his plate.

Their eyes met and the look she gave him was so perceptive that he was forced to look away. What he really wanted to do was wipe that smirk off her face.

His bacon snapped.

“…the boys are all missing soccer this week,” AV was saying, speaking of the three rowdy and obnoxious boys sitting across from him, who AV affectionately referred to as Willy, Freddy, and Jeffy. Gityd was smiling and laughing at her younger brothers’ antics, indulgently. The boys were currently fighting for the center of attention, balancing pieces of fruit on their foreheads and letting the fruit drop to the floor without a care. The horrified look on Clay’s face was laughable, but Kris had to agree. What a mess, he thought. That reminded him…

Kris grabbed a napkin from the table and bent to pick up the sticky waffle that had slid from his fork earlier. At that same moment, the girl beside him bent to pick up a stray piece of fruit and their eyes met again under the table.

“Sure, she’s pretty,” she whispered, “but you have to feed her by hand. She’s useless with a fork and knife.”

Kris banged his head on underside of the table.

“Mary Jane!” AV said, “Sit up, for heaven’s sake! What are you doing under there?”

Kris sat up, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding the knowing eyes of the girl sitting up beside him. She’s as obnoxious as her brothers, Kris decided.

“I think MJ was just helping with the mess under the table,” Adam chimed in, “which is why she’ll be my prized houseguest this week.”

AV looked distressed. “Oh, I’m so sorry Adam. Boys, enough with the fruit! What a mess you’ve made! Clear the table, and then get upstairs and into the shower.” She literally got up and shooed them away.

Kris was back to staring at Gityd. He was trying his best to be inconspicuous, but if the girl beside him was any indication, he was failing miserably. He just needed to know what was going on here. What was his girl in the yellow dress doing on Simon’s lap? Then he felt the sickening burn of dread rising in the back of his throat, and knew that he wasn’t going to like the answer to that question.

“Listen,” Adam leaned in and said to him quietly, “maybe you should just leave now…”

Kris turned and gave him a withering look. “This secrecy act is getting old. We haven’t had a secret between us since I dragged you out of the closet eight years ago. This one ends now.”

Adam’s face softened; his confidence in his position was wavering. “Kris, I don’t want to keep secrets from you. I’m just trying to save you a little heartache…”

Adam didn’t understand, Kris realized. He was in this way too deep to avoid heartache at this point.

“We have so much do this week,” AV said, removing plates of half-eaten food from the table--completely oblivious to the conflict going on between Adam and Kris. In fact, everyone seemed unaware. Uncle Jeb was dozing off, his chin propped up on his open palm. Clay was trying to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the back of his spoon. Gityd and Simon were… lost in each other.

Kris’s chest clinched in protest.

The only person who seemed to have a clue was the obnoxious girl sitting beside him… MJ. Actually, she had more than just a clue, Kris thought. Seeing her gaze shift from Gityd and Simon, to Adam and Kris, Kris suspected that she understood exactly what was going on here.

AV continued, “I’m worried that the boys are gonna be bored out of their minds with all this planning, Jeb.”

“I wouldn’t blame them,” Jeb said sleepily. “What boy that could hope to call himself a man would want to spend the day perusing dress shops and meeting with florists?” He suddenly remembered whose company he was in, and sat up straighter, clearing his throat and flashing Adam an apologetic look. “No offense, son.”

Adam shrugged. “None taken.”

AV crossed her arms and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe we should have left them home with Mary Jane.”

“If you had left me home, who would explain to Tori that her two favorite colors are, unfortunately, on opposite sides of the color wheel, and, therefore, must never be seen on the same centerpiece?”

Gityd crossed her arms and huffed, like a child who had just been told by the ice cream man that he is out of the Sponge Bob Popsicle with the gumball eye. “It’s my day. Purple and yellow have been my favorite color since preschool. I’m not changing my mind.”

Clay looked up from his spoon. “Oh no. I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

Many things struck Kris at once. The first was that MJ was calling Gityd… Tori. Tori. Somehow, it didn’t fit. She would always be Gityd in his mind. The second was the sound of Gityd’s voice. It was the first he had heard it, and he knew it was crazy, but her voice made him feel like crying. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. The final thing that struck him was more painful: he was beginning to piece together a confusing puzzle in his mind… dress shops, florists, colors, centerpieces, special day…

“You’re right, love,” Simon said. He was speaking to Gityd, but his gaze found Kris’s and held it in his grasp as he continued. “It is your day, and if you want those two ghastly colors at our wedding, then bloody hell, you shall bloody have them.”

Kris returned Simon’s gaze with a vengeance, ignoring the world that was suddenly crashing down around him. Simon smirked and his brow shot up, as if to say, “What are you do about it, now? I warned you. I told you to forget about her.”

Kris did not break the staring match until he felt Adam drag him from the table and out the back door.

“Have you seen my new garden gnome?” Adam was saying. “You’re gonna love this one, Kris. It’s holding a mic…”

Kris flung Adam’s hand away the moment the door closed. He paced to the left side of the yard, toward the garden, raking his hands through his hair in that devastatingly handsome way, without thinking about it. He wanted to scream. To let out all of his frustration…

He kicked the garden gnome across the yard before he could stop himself.

“You owe me thirty nine, ninety nine, plus shipping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kris demanded.

“About the cost? I didn’t know you meant to make a field goal with innocent gnome—”

“Shutty. I’m eying the gnome with the platform shoes next, so you better start talking.”

Adam sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the side of the house and said, “Remember that trip Simon and I took to LA a few months ago? Well, after we were finished with our bizzy in LA, I talked him into to driving up to Bako with me. I hadn’t seen my extended family in a while, and I promised my mom I’d make it up there again…”

Kris nodded in understanding. Adam’s parents were big globetrotters—out-of-town more than they were in-town—and Adam was too focused on getting his music career off the ground to ever go with them. His parents constantly worried about Adam getting lonely; they insisted on Skyping every night. They even called Kris and asked him to check in on Adam from time to time.

Adam said, “That was the first time Simon met Tori. She’s a knock-out, as you know, and Simon has that British accent…” Adam shrugged. “It was bound to happen. They started dating, long-distance, but Simon, the A hole that he is, insisted on keeping it a secret. He has it in his head that being ‘unavailable’ will somehow hurt his career.”

Kris would have laughed at that if the ground hadn’t been falling out from under him. He paced a few feet back and forth and asked, “Why did you keep all this from me? Once I saw that picture and you knew… why did you let me fall more in… get more… attached to…”

“I thought I was doing the right thing. Look, you are an amazing singer, but you need Simon. He excels at everything he does. He’s gonna be the one who makes you a star! And that girl in there,” he pointed toward the back door of his house, “all she’s gonna do is make it all go away.”

The door opened. It was Gityd.

She stepped down from the porch and walked toward the garden, smiling at the two BFFs. Adam was flashing concerned looks at Kris, and Kris was trying to dislodge his heart from his throat.

“I have a huge favor to ask of you,” she said.

Kris didn’t know if she was talking to him or Adam, but if she had wanted him to sit in a wooden chair with flat sidearms, so she could strap down his arms with leather straps, and cut off his right hand with a sword, he would have gladly agreed to it.

She sighed and glanced back at the house. “You know I’m crazy about my brothers, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea if they tag along while we try to plan this wedding. Simon has little patience for them, I’m afraid.”

“I’d have patience!” Kris thought desperately. “Marry me and they can move in with us, for all I care!”

“So,” she said sweetly, “would it be too terribly inconvenient if I asked you to entertain them for a week? Get them out of the house, take them places?”

“Sure! Of course, I can do that. It’d be my pleasure. Sounds like fun, hanging out with those three boys. I love their energy!” <--Kris was the one who said all that. And he realized how idiotic he sounded when Gityd turned away from Adam and looked blankly at him.

“I think she was asking me,” Adam said, smiling, “but I’m certainly willing to turn the task over to you. After all, it’s not like you have a job.”

Kris could feel his face heating up.

“It’s Kris, right?” she said, holding out her hand.

He took her outstretched hand, and it felt like a soft mound of Moon Sand, molding with his fingers. He nodded dumbly.

“That’s really sweet of you,” she said. “I’ve heard that you’re a really sweet guy.”

“Sweet as a milk chocolate SlimFast,” he said, and then wished he could take it back.

She looked confused, opened her mouth to respond, and then closed it.

“It’s all settled then,” Adam said, gripping Kris’s shoulder and giving him a little shake, as if to startle some common sense back into him. He succeeded in breaking Kris’s hold on Gityd’s hand, at least. “Kris is gonna babysit for a week, like the nice guy he is, so you and Simon will be free to plan your wedding.”

“That’s great. Thanks Kris,” she said, walking beside them as they all made their way back toward the house. “I won’t forget this. Oh! And you won’t be completely on your own. Mom said that no matter what, MJ has to help you. She’s really good with my brothers. Doesn’t put up with their shenanigans.”

Kris saw MJ leaning in the threshold of the open door that led to the kitchen. She had that knowing smirk on her face again, the one that made him want to march back to the garden and kick a gnome.

“I’ve never been to the San Diego Zoo,” she commented.

Adam laughed as he passed by her. Kris narrowed his eyes at her, and then motioned for Gityd to go in ahead of him. As she walked by, her arm brushed his chest, sending visible shock waves through his senses.

MJ smiled at his reaction and lifted an eyebrow as if to challenge him… and that’s when he knew. Engaged or not, he was not giving up Gityd without a fight.

Chapter 7: Night Owl

2009-05-31T06:00:00.000-07:00

by Landeelu

Both Adam and Kris doubled over with laughter. They tried to quiet themselves so as not to wake any more houseguests but it was extremely difficult.

“Holy crap!” Adam said, “You almost got through that with a straight face!”

“I know, right?” said Kris, wiping away the tears.

It was a long-standing joke between them to suggest people were vampires. Anytime anyone was acting strange, aloof or was particularly pale one of them would inevitably offer up the vampire theory as an explanation. Kris was grateful for their little bit at this moment as it immediately broke the tension in the air.

“Your timing and delivery was impeccable, man. I need to get the lollerzing under control here,” Adam breathed through the laughter as he punched Adam in the shoulder. He took a couple of deep breaths. “Anyhoo, no…. what I mean is that she’s just a bit of a night owl. That’s all. She’ll stay up until all hours of the night doing who knows what and then sleep until noon.”

“Oh… yeah… sure,” Kris stammered as he surveyed the doors down the hall again. That means she’s behind one of those doors right now. Probably awake. He turned back to Adam with as casual a look as he could muster. “First room on the left is all mine, huh?”

“Yupperz. Go in there and stay. I don’t want you ‘accidentally’ laying on top of any more of my family members tonight, mmmkay?”

“Whatev, dood,” Kris said rolling his eyes as he turned and headed into his room for the night.

This was a room Kris hadn’t been in for years. As children he and Adam used to play hide & go seek in here occasionally but other than that there had never been a real reason for him to be in there. He looked around. It was your typical guest bedroom/office. There was a twin bed with a trundle on one side and a computer desk with two computers on it on the other side. On the wall with the trundle bed there was an enormous wallpaper mural of a map of the world. For some reason, Kris walked over to it and immediately found Forks, WA.

Kris passed a few more minutes looking for other cities on the map….. Denver, Vegas, Phoenix, and then he tried to guess where the Volturi might live. When he thought enough time had passed he opened his door as quietly as he could and crept out into the hallway.

He looked across the hallway. Nope. That’s where some Uncle Jeb is sleeping. He looked to the left. Why does Adam have to live in a freakin’ mansion? he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was look inside each of these rooms and yet something was driving him forward. The thought of going back and laying down on his bed was excruciating. Especially if there was a chance that Gityd was no more than 20 feet from him at this very moment. He leaned against the door jamb and tilted his head back. I’m not ready for this, he realized. Even if I do find her what do I say? What do I do? Why is Adam so hell-bent on keeping me away from her? How would I explain it to him if I was found with Gityd?

All of these questions and more flooded Kris’ mind and made him slump down to the floor, head in hands. It was then that he realized he was exhausted. His three hours at CEC were the worst three hours of his life and it was taking its toll. Add to that all the excitement with AV and suddenly he could barely keep his eyes open.

He got up, walked back into the life-sized atlas and closed the door behind him, not caring to be quiet this time. He flopped down on top of the bed, fully clothed and with the light still on. He didn’t move until morning.
**********************************************************

Kris awoke to the sounds of dishes clinking together, laughter and the smell of something delicious.

Waffles, Kris thought as took a deep breath, eyes still closed. Wait, where am I?

He opened his eyes and looked straight at North America. His line of sight naturally fell on Forks, WA and then the memories of last night came flooding back. Quit CEC. Crashed at Adam’s. Met towel clad man. Freaked out AV. Came up stairs. Slept 20 feet from….

Kris shot up out of the bed faster than he could say Gityd and went over to a small mirror on the wall to check his hair. He was glad he went for the “casually tousled look” Adam’s hair girl had talked him into getting. His hair looked even better this morning than it had last night. He took a piece of gum out of his pocket and chewed it for about 20 seconds hoping that would mask some of the morning breath and then opened the door.

He peeked down the hallway. All doors were still closed. He took his iPhone out of his back pocket, pressed the home button and checked the time. 10:27am. Kris hoped the “night owl” would be awake by now. He then realized that was the first thing he knew about her. She is a night owl, he repeated in his head. He then tucked that piece of information away as if it were a treasure to be protected.

Kris walked as calmly as he could down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. The sounds of laughter and chattering became louder and louder. As he rounded the corner he could see that Adam did, in fact, have a house full of company. Every chair around the enormous breakfast nook table was occupied and down the center of that table the food was piled high.

He put on his nice guy smile he often wore and crept closer and closer to the crowd. He didn’t want to be noticed right away and yet he had to know if Gityd was there. He was able to scan about half of the faces before someone realized called attention to him.

“Hey!! If it isn’t my would-be bunk mate Kris!” AV said with a sparkle in her eye. She immediately stood up and came over to him giving him the biggest hug he had gotten in a long time. Kris awkwardly hugged her back, unsure of how to react to such warm affection.

“How did you sleep, sweetie? You want some waffles? I made plenty because I figured a growing boy like you would be starving!” she exclaimed as she pinched his cheeks and squeezed his upper arms. “Let me get a good look at you here in the light of day.” AV stood him back from her without letting go of his arms and looked him over from the crown of his head down to the ends of his toes. Kris’ discomfort level was through the roof but he managed (he hoped) to keep on his nice guy face and endure.

“Oh, he is adorable, Adam. You weren’t kidding!” she said as she walked over to the cupboard to get a plate for Kris. “How is it that you’ve never brought him to Bakersfield for a visit before?”

“Ah, you know, Aunt Visor…. he’s a busy boy. Trying to make a name for himself in the music biz and all that,” Adam replied smiling and never taking his eyes off Kris, “Plus, he told me once he had heard Bakersfield was a hole and I didn’t want to go prove him right.” Adam winked at AV.

Kris grunted. He tried to look back over at the table as inconspicuously as possible. There were about seven other people over there. One had to be the infamous Uncle Jeb. Three were boys around 9 to 15 years old, Kris guessed. His eyes went to the other three people…. a girl, not much younger than him, with light brown hair, one now fully dressed Clay Aiken and ….. Simon.

“What are you doing here?” Kris asked, surprised.

“I may be a flaming A Brit but I’d never pass up a free breakfast,” said Simon.

“Obviously,” said Kris looking at Simon’s plate which was overflowing with Belgian waffles, fruit and bacon. Kris looked at Adam who gave him a shrug back. Perfect, thought Kris. This is exactly who I want here right now when I meet the girl. The girl in the yellow dress. Kris quickly looked around the rest of the kitchen. No Gityd.

“Plus if I try to eat one more bloody nasty breadstick at Chuck E’s, I’ll vomit…. ghastly rubbish,” Simon continued. He then went on to explain how infrequently they clean that place and the various disgusting things they have found in the play equipment tunnels and ball pits.

Those at the table were hooting and laughing at Simon’s descriptions but Kris was anything but interested. He had that same disappointed feeling he had felt time and time again since he had laid eyes on Gityd weeks before. This time disappointment was spiraling down toward despair.

“Here you go, cutie,” AV said to him as she shoved a plate full of food toward his chest. “Go on and sit down. I’ll get you your orange juice.” Kris hesitated as he looked down at the plate, seeing right through it. “Go on now… I won’t take no for an answer.”

He carried his plate over to the table and sat down as far away from Simon as possible.

“….used feminine hygiene products, diarrhea, tapeworms….” he could hear Simon saying at the other end of the table.

Kris looked down at his pile of food. It did look unbelievably delicious and he hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. Still, his appetite failed him. He was just beginning to figure out how to muscle through and gag it all down when he heard Adam say something.

He turned to look thinking maybe Adam was talking to him. He wasn’t. Adam was staring intently into the face of someone Kris couldn’t see and speaking rapidly and quietly. Her back was to Kris but he didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. It was as if his pounding heart was spelling it out for him….

It’s her…. the girl…in the…. yellow….dress……

Chapter 6: Gory Deets

2009-05-30T12:40:00.000-07:00

By Jespy Espy

Kris pulled his hand through his hair and blew out a puff of air, apologizing repeatedly to Adam’s aunt, as she blindly fixed her loose rollers. The cartoon cats on her pajama bottoms were running on treadmills, doing step aerobics, and lifting barbells. Little beads of perspiration sprang from their furry heads like a bad Japanimation cartoon.

He still couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.

“Please. Stop apologizing,” she said, good-naturedly, sitting down on the couch and turning her rollers in all the wrong directions. “You couldn’t have known that me, or anyone else, would be asleep down here. Adam has enough spare bedrooms in this practical-mansion that I’m sure it’s rare for any guest to make their bed on one of his couches downstairs, but I was having back problems, and Adam and his partner were making so much noise in the room next door. Apparently, that Clay Aikin is a wildcat in the... oops. I probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

Kris cleared his throat. “No, it’s OK. Adam would have told me all the gory deets eventually. He always does.”

The woman’s face lit with enlightenment. “You must be Kris, then? Adam’s BFF?”

“Yep,” he said, taking a sip of his Diet Coke, which felt strangely awkward in his hand. He managed to swallow the liquid crack down the right pipe. She clicked her final roller closed and patted the spot beside her, indicating that he should sit, and then she proceeded to tell him everything that Adam had ever told her about his BFF. He nodded and smiled at her, though his smile wavered a bit. He was shaking, he realized.

All he could think about was Gityd.

Was she here? Sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms of the practical-mansion that he was currently sitting in? Just the idea of it made his heart soar up into his throat. He took another swig of DC, trying to wash it back down into his chest where it belonged but it was stuck there, like one of the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars glued to his bedroom ceiling. His bedroom. His bed. Orion. Gityd. Gityd in his bedroom, laying in his bed, looking up at Orion…

He swallowed.

“Adam told me all about your trip to Forks—”

Kris choked and coughed. “That was his idea. I have no interest in that stuff.” Kris’s mind flashed to that picture, framed in the upstairs hallway, of him and Adam posing in front of Forks High School with their arms around each other’s necks (in a purely platonic way), wearing matching “Welcome to Forks” sweaters. Please, please, he prayed, please tell me Gityd hasn’t seen that picture. It’s the gayest! “Adam’s obsessed with the Cullens,” Kris continued, “I just went along with him to keep him company. Bella’s not my type, either.” Kris laughed nervously.

Adam’s aunt had a knowing gleam in her eye, and that worried him. He hoped to H that she didn’t have the wrong idea about him and Adam’s purely platonic relationship. “Adam also tells me that you’re the better singer,” she said.

“Well, I don’t know about that. It’s hard to compare us. Our styles are pretty different,” Kris said, thinking of the high heels and birdcage shoulder pads that Adam liked to wear whenever he was performing.

She hmmmed. “He told me that if you two were in a singing contest, voted on by all of America, that you would receive the most votes and win the whole thing because you deserved to win.”

“He said that?” Kris shook his head in a charmingly humble way. “No. Adam’s the one who deserves to win.”

“Aw, thanks, man.”

Kris jumped at the sound of Adam’s voice. How long had he been standing behind them, leaning against one of the Grecian columns that flanked the living room, with his arms crossed over his chest?

“I see you met AV,” he said with a nod toward his aunt.

Kris sat up a little straighter. “Yes. I mean. We hadn’t been properly introduced…”

AV held out her hand and offered him a laughing smile. “Nice to meet you, Kris.”

He wiped his sweaty palm across his pant leg as inconspicuously as he could, and then clasped her hand. “The pleasure’s mine, AV.” What the H kind of name was AV? He didn’t get it. Maybe it was some sort of nickname. Adam was notorious for handing out nonsensical nicknames based solely on a person’s shoes or hat. Kris made a mental note to ask him about it later, but he didn’t think he’d get a straight answer out of him. Adam seemed determined to keep any details about Gityd shrouded in secrecy. He even refused to tell him Gityd’s name, fhs.

AV was explaining to Adam how she had winded up on the couch downstairs, and how Kris had subsequently winded up on top of her, and the whole time Adam was staring intently and accusingly at Kris, as if he had planned the whole thing.

“Well, Kris, I think AV has had enough interrupted sleep tonight. Why don’t we leave her to get a little shut-eye? I think I have an unoccupied bed for you upstairs.”

AV actually looked disappointed that her night was settling down. Kris almost felt guilty for leaving her. “’Night, AV,” he said with an awkward wave.

Kris jogged a little to catch up with Adam on the staircase, and then he stopped him when they got to the top, gripping Adams upper arm. “Tell me. Is she here?”

Adam stared at him for a moment. They were only inches apart. “You mean my frousin? What happened to your new girlfriend, Gityd?”

Kris was confused for a second. Gityd? That’s who I’m asking about. But then it came to him, the stupid story he made up about the new girl he was interested in. “We broke up,” he explained, lamely.

Adam snorted. “How fickle.”

“Adam, just tell me. Is she here?” Kris hissed.

“Listen, Kris. Get off my flank about my frousin.”

Kris was not deterred. He inched even closer. “Tell me!” he said in a sharp whisper.

Adam turned his head and stared up at the ceiling. Kris could see Adam’s Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “Yeah, she’s here, mate.”

Kris pushed away from him, breathing heavily. He put his head down and rested his hands loosely on his hips, trying to catch his breath. The girl in the yellow dress. Gityd… was here.

“Kris, you don’t understand. Like in that Olan Mills picture, she stands apart. That’s right, they didn’t pose her like that. She stands apart.”

“I don’t care where she stands, man. Don’t you get it? I’ve imprinted on her!”

Adam just stared at him with an almost sick look on his face, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. “This can’t be happening. This isn’t gonna work.”

“Why?” Kris said, pleadingly, clenching his fists in frustration. “Is it something about me? Am I not good enough for her? Do you not approve of me? I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’ll even beg Simon to give me that stupid CEC hand stamping job back. Yeah, I would walk straight into hell for her!”

Adam was still shaking his head. “That’s just it. You would have to walk straight into hell for her, and I won’t let you do it.”

“What are you talking about?” Kris said distractedly, his eyes began to flick toward each bedroom door down the hall. There were eight of them. He started toward the first door on the right and Adam stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t. Uncle Jeb’s asleep in there.”

“Uncle Jeb?”

“Look, you can take the first room on the left. No one’s in there. Go to sleep, and you can stay for breakfast in the morning. Then I’ll let you meet her over waffles.”

Kris did not trust him. “Which room is she sleeping in? I want to know, and I’ll start barging into every room until I find her…”

Adam laughed without humor. “What room is she sleeping in? Ha! She’s not the sleeping type.”

“What do you mean she’s not the sleeping type? That doesn’t make sense. Everybody sleeps. The only human species I can think of that doesn’t sleep is--” Kris stopped. His pulse raced. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He could see his warm breath in front of him in the cool night air, like white puffs from an old fashion steam train racing through the Rocky Mountains. Chew, Chew, he thought. His jaw hung open and his eyes were wide and dead inside, and then finally he said it. Out loud.

“Vampire.” It came out like a hiss.