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Wow, everyone. I'm really flattered by the response. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it so far. I only hope I can keep it up. So, here's the next bit. Play It From the Heart‘Mexico Starting at $199!’ ‘Join Us for Karaoke Every Wednesday Night’ ‘Voted Best Sushi in Alexander 3 Years Running’ ‘Manicures and Facials’ ‘Hot Corned Beef’ Krista surveyed the signs as she walked down Peer Street, the main shopping district in downtown Alexander. Door after door, window after window, small businesses competed to lure passers-bys with their signs; from hand-made signs with scrawled writing declaring that they sell phone cards, to glitzy lit signs offering Budweiser. The buildings stood shoulder to shoulder as if hunched together in protection against the towering skyscrapers a block away that announced the presence of the Financial District. That was where the city went to work, and Peer Street, with its shops and restaurants and bars and more bars stretching in diminishing quality all the way to the train station, was where they went to play. ‘Used CDs Bought and Sold’ She stopped and peered through the music store’s windows. The late Saturday morning had yet to see as many strollers and consumers as it would in a matter of hours, but the store already had its fair share of patrons. Mainly school kids from the looks of it, none of whom Krista recognized. The thump of bass was audible through the glass storefront. She perused the various flyers attached to the glass. Community events, concerts…a gay bookstore. She stopped and re-read it, her eyes widening in excitement. The address indicated that it was on the same block. All thoughts of going inside the music store were replaced with a desire to visit the bookstore, and she turned and went in search. She almost missed the little store with the rainbow flag tucked in between a hardware store and the Alexander Legal Aid Society. She was halfway past the doorway when she registered a familiar book cover in the small window. She stopped short and looked again. Best Lesbian Erotica 2004 was proudly propped up next to a host of other titles that were obviously gay in nature, some that she recognized and others that were new to her. This was it. She glanced around to see if she saw anyone she recognized from school, and ducked inside. Her smile grew until she thought she could barely see around it, and she looked down to compose herself, lest anyone should think she was a loony. She raised her head, a more sedate grin on her face, and let her eyes scan the aisles of books and racks of clothing and stands of postcards, buttons, and bumper stickers in excitement. Here was a gay bookstore within biking distance from her home! Back in Staughton it was at least a 30-minute trip by car into the city. She remembered those trips with her parents, when she’d make a bid to check out the huge main library in hopes of finding a book or two by a known lesbian publisher to slip into her backpack. She’d felt bad about stealing, but had known there was no way she’d be able to check them out without her parents noticing. Once she’d been on the verge of picking one such book off the shelf when her mother had suddenly appeared beside her, asking her if she’d found anything interesting. She’d wound up checking out an incredibly boring book about a boy and his life on a farm. Here she was, suddenly presented with the possibility of having what looked like hundreds of books right in front of her, almost whenever she wanted. Who knew a little place like Alexander would even have such a store? She read the placards hanging above the aisles, and headed towards the one marked “Lesbian.” Her route was intercepted by a middle-aged woman with a short, graying afro and square glasses. “Hi,” the woman said, smiling warmly, “can I help you find anything?” “Um, no thanks,” Krista answered shyly. “I’m just looking for now.” “Okay. If you need any help, I’ll be around,” the woman offered. “Thanks.” Krista ducked her head and continued towards the desired section. She was aware that people who worked in a gay bookstore must be ok with her being gay, but it still made her nervous. She stepped into the aisle and found herself overwhelmed. The bookcases were six shelves high, and spanned about eight feet. They were broken into sections covering fiction, health, relationships, politics, gender studies…she didn’t know there were this many books about lesbians. She moved to stand in front of the fiction section, and randomly picked a book off of the shelf. She turned it over to read the back cover. A lonely psychiatrist takes on a mysterious patient who appears to have a dark past. Perhaps she can unlock the patient’s memories, and the patient can unlock her heart. Deciding that it looked interesting enough, she began to flip through it, stopping from time to time to test out a paragraph or two. In this manner she perused the first 3 shelves of books, skipping over the few titles she’d already read, until her arms became too full to hold any more. She contemplated her load. She had $30 in her wallet, and each book was about $11. She carefully lowered herself to the floor and set the books in front of her, and began the methodical process of deciding what two books to get.
Fifteen minutes later she was out the door, two books stowed safely inside her backpack, a story already forming in her mind should her parents notice that she’d spent most of her money and wonder where it’d gone. She glanced at her watch as she headed towards the rack where her bike was chained. She hadn’t done much more sightseeing, but she was anxious to get home and read. She only hoped her parents wouldn’t be in a family-mind and would leave her in peace.
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Five hours later she lay on her back in the middle of her bed, daydreaming. She’d finished both books, reading them as quickly as a starving person eats their first meal. She’d sighed deeply at the romantic parts, groaned out loud at the stupid actions the characters took on the path to resolution, squirmed slightly as her body reacted to some of the steamier parts, and now she was basking in the afterglow of vicariously living lives and loves she wished she had. She was 16 and her hormones were doing a fandango on her mind and body. It was definitely time, she thought, to experience these things first hand.
Krista rolled over slowly onto her stomach and reached a hand to the floor. She grasped her notebook, humming a tune that was forming in her head. She slid her pen from the metal rings of the notebook, opened the book to a blank page, and started to jot down the lyrics that were bubbling in her head. She grimaced at some clichéd lines that had found their way into her thoughts, but forced herself to keep writing. Editing would come later. She continued to hum as she wrote.
Once she had exhausted her thoughts, she set the notebook down and walked to the corner of the room where her bass was propped, standing alongside a small cart atop which lay a brand new digital 8-track, a microphone, and a pair of headphones- birthday presents from her parents. She slipped the headset on, turned the power button on, and adjusted a few knobs. She positioned the strap of the instrument over her shoulder, gave a few experimental strums to test the tuning, and began to play. She started slowly at first, grimacing in frustration as she sought to find the right notes until the melody that had been looping in her mind found form in the rich notes of her instrument. She played the lines over and over again, winding her way through a verse and a chorus and back again until it sounded exactly the way she’d heard it in her head. Her head bobbed in time to the implied rhythm, and she hummed the melody as she played.
Satisfied with her efforts, she pushed the record button and played through her new song, smiling to herself. It took a few tries to get it perfect, but once it was done she pressed the stop button with satisfaction. Removing her bass she glanced at the clock and found that she had been playing for quite some time. She was due at Jay’s house soon. She shook her head to try and clear the sudden nervousness that had her heart beating faster and her stomach feeling as if she had a swarm of butterflies trying to get out.
“It’ll be fine, Krista. This is what you’ve wanted for a long time now. And if it blows you come home, eat dinner, and tell your parents that you want to go to boarding school.” She gave a short laugh and proceeded to pack her gear for the short trip around the corner.
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She stood on the porch, waiting for someone to answer the doorbell. She had recognized the house immediately even though she had only seen it from behind. The house was located right behind hers, or from this vantage, her house was located behind Jay’s. It makes sense, she thought to herself, putting everything together. A few nights ago, while changing the CD she was listening to, she’d heard a female voice singing along with a radio. She’d followed the sound to her open bedroom window and realized that it was coming from the house behind hers, specifically from a window directly opposite hers. The yards weren’t particularly far apart given the design of the neighborhood; the two houses themselves were only as far apart as the medium-sized swimming pool her neighbors had, and the lack of dense tree growth enabled a body to see rather well into the opposite home, and both singer and music were pretty loud. She’d liked what she’d heard, and the voice of the singer had captured her attention immediately. A beautiful alto voice, incredibly sexy. She’d fantasized about that voice and the kind of girl it would belong to, hoping she might come across her in the neighborhood one day and have an excuse to talk to her. It made perfect sense that the voice would wind up belonging to Jay’s sister.
Cheryl Hoffa set down the romantic thriller she was engrossed in (current New York Time’s bestseller she’d inform you, in case you thought such material was silly) to answer the doorbell. She parted the light curtains covering the glass section at the top of the front door to see her visitor before opening the door with a warm, generous smile.
“Hello. You must be Krista.”
The slender, sandy-haired girl in front of her returned her wide smile with a shier one. “Yes ma’am,” she replied.
“Come on in,” Cheryl invited, stepping inside for the younger woman to enter. Krista adjusted her shoulder bag in a nervous gesture and stepped into the brightly lit foyer, trying hard to quell the natural instinct to immediately look at everything in a new surrounding. Her mother had often warned her that it was impolite to have a “visual picnic”, as she called it, when first meeting someone. “Jay’s in the basement already with Sergio. Would you like anything to drink before you head down?”
“Oh, no thank you.”
“Alright, I’ll show you to the basement.” Cheryl walked silently down the carpeted hallway that connected the foyer to the rest of the house with Krista behind her, discreetly glancing around. As they proceeded through the house, her ears registered faint thumping sounds and what sounded like a guitar. The sound grew slightly louder as they walked through a door on the right into a gleaming kitchen. Everything looked brand new, right down to the appliances, a phenomenon Krista had never witnessed in a kitchen before. She followed Jay’s mother to the far right of the room, where a wooden door contrasted with the gleaming newness of the kitchen. Mrs. Hoffa opened the door, and the thumping and strumming that had been almost unnoticeable came to throbbing life. Krista jerked back a little, taken aback by the sudden increase of sound. Mrs. Hoffa noticed this and, leaning closer so as to be heard above the din, answered the unasked question. “We sound-proofed the basement. Seemed like a smart idea.” With a look at the doorway, she added, “Still does.” She leaned through the doorway slightly and yelled, “Jay! Krista’s here!” Turning back to Krista with a shrug and a smile that admitted the futility of the move, she gestured for the teen to enter. Krista smiled her thanks and scooted past her to descend the stairs. Cheryl stared briefly at the retreating figure. Both of her teens were very outgoing, and this shy girl seemed as if she could use a little of what they had, especially if she were really going to be in their band. She closed the door behind her and, her parental duty temporarily discharged, returned to the living room and her book.
Krista paused on the stairs, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to experience. She hoped the other members were as nice as Jay.
She descended the stairs, a simple light fixture on the wall illuminating her path. Below her she could see that the stairs gave way to a large, carpeted room. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs she saw that the carpet continued from the floor to the walls, the light green color giving her the feeling of being in a forest. To the left sat a washer, dryer, and pool table. To her right, still unaware of her presence, Jay sat at his drum kit, and a short, auburn-haired boy stood a few feet away from him playing a guitar. They were arranged with their backs to the stairs, the far wall acting as their audience. She stood awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. The guitar player (what was his name? Steve? Scott?) rescued her when he turned to say something to Jay and spotted her.
“Hey,” he said in acknowledgement.
Jay swiveled on his stool and stood up when he saw her. “Krista, hey,” he greeted as he strolled over to her.
“Hey,” she replied, giving her patented trademark shy smile.
“That’s Sergio, our guitarist,” he informed her, throwing a thumb in the direction of the waiting boy, who gave a short upward nod of his head in that cool teenage shorthand for ‘What’s up?’ Jay walked back towards the set-up and Krista followed suit, her eyes taking in the spread of instruments and equipment. He led her to a large bass amp. She recognized the brand as one she’d salivated over in a music store back home, and hoped that her awed reaction didn’t let on that she knew how much it cost. Certainly more than her parents would ever spend on her for an amp. As supportive as her dad was about her music, he’d still been a little tight in the wallet when it came to buying her equipment.
“You can plug in here.” He motioned towards the amp. “We were just messing around with a new song while we wait for my sister, who…” he glanced at his watch with a trace of annoyance, “should be here any minute now.”
At the mention of Jay’s sister Krista’s nervous energy, which had been reduced somewhat by the reality of finally being here, quickly hit the red again and she had to avert her eyes to hide her excitement. Her rational mind realized that such excitement over someone she’d never seen could be construed as crazy, but she tucked that part away till later, when she would sit in her bedroom and carefully review each second of this visit for opportunities to berate herself for her behavior. She’d constructed lavish ideas about people with little to go on before, and she was old enough to realize that this was perhaps par for the course for Krista Evans, delusional romantic.
Jay returned to his drum kit and gave it a few experimental pops while he waited for Krista to set up. Krista pulled the strap of her bass over her head and turned the amp on, unaware of Jay’s eyes on her nor of Sergio smirking at Jay. She plucked a string and winced at the loudness. She adjusted the volume; later there would be need for that, but for now it was a bit much. She glanced at Sergio, and in the silent communication that exists between musicians, he played a note, knowing that she wanted to tune to him. She tuned her E to his, and once that was going right she tuned the rest of her strings on her own. She played a few riffs to guarantee that everything was as it should be and, once satisfied, turned to the others. Sergio and Jay looked at each other.
“Whadda you want to do?” Sergio queried.
“Well,” Jay started, glancing again at his watch. His next words were halted by the sound of the basement door opening, and a series of heavy thumps as someone came bounding down the stairs. Krista looked towards the stairway expectantly, and watched as a pair of scuffed black boots came into view, attached to slender denim-clad legs, attached to shapely hips and thighs, which were closely acquainted with a green army-camouflage shirt that was even more closely acquainted with snug-fitting jeans that hung low on her waist….finally, mercifully, Krista dropped her gaze, realizing that she was staring in a manner that could never be interpreted as merely curious, should anyone notice. A furtive glance around assured her that no one had noticed, and she returned her gaze to the safety of her bass and pretended to be engrossed in the strings.
“ ‘Bout time, slowpoke,” she heard Jay say in a mildly berating tone.
“Sorry dad,” the disembodied voice of the girl said, noticeably closer. Krista raised her head, realizing that her refusal to look at the new addition to the room would be just as conspicuous as gawking at her. Her eyes quickly panned up from the floor and the previously traveled territory of feet and legs and such, skipping parts best left alone, and finally landed on the face of Jay’s sister, where they rested in what they hoped was a nonchalant manner while the rest of Krista’s senses re-fired as she recognized the girl. Jay’s sister was none other than the popular girl she shared a lunch period with. Suddenly, instead of being many feet away, separated by a crowd of people, she was approaching her and holding her hand out.
“Hey,” Taryn greeted and shook her hand. She walked in a manner familiar only to those who have reached the level of ease with their bodies that comes from always being told how “hot” they are, and believing it. Taryn Hoffa had been praised on her looks by many people, and she knew how true it was. It hadn’t made her vain; she was simply confident in a way that the Kristas of the world usually never experienced.
“I’m Taryn, and you must be Krista,” she continued, and firmly grasped the other girl’s hand as she responded to the unusual gesture. Krista felt her face grow hot as Taryn’s eyes swept over her, clearly taking her measure in that one glance. She fought to keep herself from yanking her hand out of her grasp. “Nice to meet you. Jay’s been talking about you all week.” She smirked at Jay who looked at her with murderous eyes. With that she turned around and headed for the unoccupied mic stand near Sergio, and took her place facing the carpeted wall that served as their audience. “Let’s start with ‘Heaven Knows.’ I need to warm up.”
Jay rolled his eyes in response to her take-charge attitude, tossing a ‘don’t mind her’ grin Krista’s way. “You can just listen, get a feel for it,” Jay advised her before he began a count-off, tapping his sticks together. On four he swung into a heavy, bass-drum driven groove that reminded her of a “strip song” in its steady, pulsating feel. After a measure of this Sergio began to wind his guitar part into the spaced beats, his one-notes resonating with the ample reverb he applied. Krista watched as his back curved, thrusting his pelvis and the body of his guitar forward as he rocked back and forth to the sensuous beat. Jay’s head had instinctively began to loll back on his neck as he responded to the sexy rhythm. Krista’s eyes moved to take in the back of what might be her lead singer. Taryn had begun to sway, both hands cupping the microphone cradled in its stand, her hips moving side to side in short, sharp motions. This, Krista thought, is what cool is, and she wasn’t at all sure she could hang.
Suddenly Taryn began to sing, and Krista felt as if every hair on her body were standing on end. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard this voice before. The night she’d overheard her Krista had sat in her window seat, just listening to the intoxicating sounds that came from the house behind hers, imagining what form a voice like that would take. It was entirely different, however, to be experiencing the power of that voice from the same room. It was intensely erotic, that voice, and every line that she had ever read in her cheesy romance novels came crashing through her mind.
It seemed like hours had gone by since she’d began to helplessly stare at Taryn, and with no small degree of difficulty Krista pulled herself out of the dream-state she had fallen into. She glanced at Jay, registering a faint sense of loss as her eyes were robbed of the singing vision, and found his eyes on her. She wondered how long he had been looking at her looking at Taryn, and smiled nervously at him. He seemed unaware of her preoccupation with his sister, and offered her an encouraging smile and nodded pointedly at her bass. She understood that he was prompting her to join in, and she fixed her attention to the actual song that was developing around her rather than on the girl. She attuned her senses to the rolling beat of the drum, the haunting echoes of Sergio’s guitar, and the stirring tones of Taryn’s voice; her ears, well-trained from years of practice, picked up the key, and her mind worked out what was missing in the song, what her bass could supply, and she tentatively began to pick out a few notes, feeling out the line she wanted to add. Another look at Jay, seeing the grin appear on his face as he caught where she was going, and she played louder, adding the deep sounds of her instruments to the swell of sound around her, and she was in.
She ventured a glance at Taryn. It was where her eyes wanted to be anyway; it was a physical struggle to keep from gaping at her back. Her eyes had just settled on the figure at the front of the room when her crush turned around, and suddenly they were making eye contact. Taryn smiled widely, nodding her head with obvious approval as she moved in time with the music. Pure instinct made Krista quickly look away, and when she’d gathered her courage to return her gaze, Taryn had already turned back to the microphone.
Basking in your light
Covered in your kiss
Only heaven knows
Feeling like this
Falling into you
Held by your love
Only heaven knows
What it’s like to be us
Krista wanted to close her eyes and simply feel the music, but she needed to keep her eyes on Jay to be ready for changes. She didn’t want anything to mess up the music-induced trance, because a trance was exactly what it felt like. This is what she had always wanted, what she’d envisioned when she’d listened to her CDs and imagined herself playing with a band. There was a hypnotic quality to it all; the music, the connection she felt with these people who were essentially strangers to her, simply because they were all contributing to something that was so beautiful.
Jay was trying to get Krista’s attention, which had wandered again. He caught her eye; the bobbing motion of his head became exaggerated and he was mouthing the count. He was trying to indicate a change coming. She watched him carefully, but was unable to decipher whether it was tempo or key or something else, so she began to count with him, paying rapt attention so that when he suddenly stopped playing she was able to silence her bass just as quickly. There was no sound except Taryn’s voice and sparse accompaniment from Sergio.
I couldn’t imagine
This
And all of this time I’ve
Missed
You set my world on
Fire
Opened my eyes to
Desire
Krista watched in rapt attention as the singer geared up, her voice climbing the notes, practically clinging to each one, affecting a smooth slide up the scale as the bridge reached its crescendo. Without thought, her body attuned to the song in a way that only true music lovers get, she instinctively came back in at the peak, louder than ever, adding to the ferocity the song had suddenly taken on. She was playing it from the heart, which felt like it would swell under the pressure. She reluctantly tore her eyes from the captivating figure of Taryn singing from her soul to watch Jay again, aware that the song was reaching its end and preparing to take her cue from him once again. Krista’s bass line moved with him as he slowed the tempo, and everything began to get quieter; the song was fading out, till there was nothing but a whisper of sound left. When the very last audible note faded away, there was a moment of complete silence, when no one moved.
Suddenly Taryn turned around, beaming, and exclaimed in a low voice, “That felt amazing.”
“Yeah,” Jay agreed, his own wide smile so large it seemed to take up his entire face. “Krista, you hung in there like a pro, man. I’m really impressed.”
“Yeah,” Sergio added.
The music gone, Krista bowed her head in customary shyness and mumbled her thanks, wishing the attention was suddenly receiving would go away. She liked it much better when everyone was concentrating on the music.
“Let’s not lose it,” Taryn’s voice broke into her thoughts as she addressed the group. “Keep going. ‘Pieces’?” This last she addressed to Jay, referring to another of their songs.
“Yeah. Let’s start there and work our way down the list till dinner. Same as before, Krista, join in when you’re comfortable.”
They played for an hour and a half more. Krista found herself joining in on each song a little sooner, unconsciously gaining confidence in what she was contributing. They stopped and started a few songs that were still under construction, and Krista found herself being invited to weigh in on the discussions that sometimes followed. No one had said the words explicitly, but she had a feeling she was a member of this band, that they wanted her and what she had to offer. She was glad that she was constantly holding her instrument, as she felt a desire to clench her hands, jump up and down and yell out loud in excitement.
Krista lost all track of time and was surprised when Jay glanced at his watch and signaled that it was time to wrap things up. She quietly packed her gear, listening to the others talk excitedly, planning gigs and ways to advertise themselves. It was all overwhelming for her. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, all of this talk meant for her until Jay suddenly looked at her and said, “So, do you wanna be in?”
“Y-yeah. Yeah, if you want me,” she responded, caught off guard.
“Yeah he wants you,” Sergio replied, his smirk mimicking Taryn’s earlier one. Krista was a little confused, but decided to let it slide. She was in! She was in her first band, a band that seemed to be constituted of cool people. She didn’t know how she would fit in, but it was definitely a much better start to her school year than she had anticipated.
She finished packing her bass up and was preparing to leave when Jay stopped her at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, um, we’re all going to the drive-in later. You wanna come?”
Krista stared at him for a moment, taken aback by the offer. “You guys have a drive-in?” she asked when she was able to open her mouth.
He chuckled. “Yeah, bona fide drive-in. It’s fun. We mainly go just to hang out. Usually something really cheesy is playing anyway.”
Krista looked suspiciously at him. She wasn’t the kind of girl who easily believed that someone was interested in her (unless they had some obvious deformity or something), but she was smart enough to put two and two together and get date. Between Taryn and Sergio’s comments and the secret meaning of drive-in, she was suddenly not feeling all together comfortable. Taryn, who had been watching the exchange from across the room, understood her hesitation and offered, “He doesn’t mean hang-out in the ‘making-out’ sense. We really do just go to eat bad food and watch an equally bad movie.”
It was obvious from the sheepish look he gave her that Jay had had no idea of the implications of his previous words, and he shook his head as he apologized. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…what she said.”
“Come on,” Taryn added, walking over to them. “It’ll be like your initiation. Hanging out with the band.” She waited for Krista’s answer.
“Ok,” Krista agreed, not meeting Taryn’s eyes.
“Cool,” Jay said, smiling. “Um, you wanna swing by around 7:45?”
Krista nodded. She bid everyone good-bye, and escaped up the stairs. She was sad that practice was over, that the music was done, but she was also grateful for some time in her room alone to think about everything that had happened. Her fingers itched for her pen, and a new burst of excitement propelled her home.
Edited by: Big Dummy at: 8/5/04 9:23 am
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