A Song For Julia Part 33

"I'll stay tonight. But it's fun, all right? It's not ... whatever ... that ..." She sighed, unable to even say what it was she didn't want.

Okay. I wasn't going to push. Not now. This was all too new. I got it. She needed some time. Some time to trust. Or ... whatever. Honestly, I didn't know what the issue was. I mean, I did. She'd talked-just that once-about her experience in high school with the guy who screwed her over. I got that. But why this much cynicism about relations.h.i.+ps? If anyone ought to be cynical about that, it was me. But here I was, ready to jump right in, and she wasn't. Not even close. In fact, she got mad at me any time I even suggested it.

At least she was willing to say we were dating. I shook my head and stared out the window, and we stayed silent until a few minutes later when she parked next to the warehouse. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Okay. I was exhausted. It had been a long couple of days. She looked over at me and gave me a tentative smile. I grinned and then walked around the car to her.

She started to talk. "I'm not trying to be a b.i.t.c.h, I just ..."

She didn't finish because I grabbed her hands, pulled her to me, and brought my mouth to hers and kissed her. As our lips met, hers opened slightly, and then she pressed herself to me, pus.h.i.+ng closer. Her arms came up around my back, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

We parted for just a second, and I took a breath. "I could do that all night. But they'll be waiting inside."

Her lips lifted in a quirky smile. "All right, let's go." She grabbed my hand, and we headed in.

Mark, Pathin and Serena were all in what pa.s.sed for a living room upstairs, Mark and Pathin sitting on chairs across from each other playing cards, Serena stretched out, languid, on the couch. Mark and Pathin put the cards down when we walked in.

I didn't know where to start.

Serena looked at us through her half-lowered eyelids. "I do hope wherever you've been was important enough for you to miss practice today, Crank. You two look pleased with yourselves. Did you run off and get married?"

Hardly, I thought. Not much chance of that.

I froze for a second. Did I just have this moment of cynical disappointment? Over the idea of us ... no. No. No. Not even going there.

I decided to start out the right way. "So, we were hanging out and having lunch with Allen Roark and-"

Mark burst out laughing.

I grinned at Mark, and he looked at me and then stopped laughing.

"Seriously," he said. "What's going on?"

"You tell them," I said to Julia. "It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you."

She looked at the three of them, eyes round and excited. "You guys will be the opener for Allen Roark's US tour this summer."

Stunned silence. Serena sat up, no longer relaxed on the couch. Mark and Pathin seemed frozen in place.

"You're serious," Serena said.

Julia nodded. "That's not all ... as of yesterday, Morbid Obesity is signed with White Dog. You've got a recording contract, and they're going to release the single immediately."

Serena's eyes darted to me, and I nodded, grinning. Her lips slowly curled up into a smile, and she stood, and suddenly Mark and Pathin were standing too, and shouting, and Serena walked over to Julia and wrapped her arms around her. Then Serena did something I didn't think I'd ever see in my life. She burst into tears. Mark and Pathin began peppering me with excited questions, and I tried to answer them, but the general pandemonium took a few minutes to calm down.

Finally Julia said, "Look ... we're both ... very tired. It's been a long couple of days. I'll answer more questions tomorrow. The main thing right now is you guys are going to have to go to work. We need the alb.u.m completed by January 30th. Which means you've got songs to write and record starting right away."

"We've got a budget for recording?" Pathin asked.

"Yes. Plenty."

"h.e.l.l, yeah!" Mark shouted.

"Plus, the advance. We'll sit down and figure out the accounting on that. We need to hold some back for merchandising, we'll work out the details. Plus, I need to be reimbursed for the tickets to California, which weren't cheap."

Serena looked at Julia. "Looks like you got the job. You're the boss now. Just tell us what to do."

Julia shook her head. "Let us get some sleep?"

"One thing first," Mark said.

Julia raised her eyebrows. Mark had been hostile to her managing the band from the moment the idea came up. I tensed, ready to tell Mark to shut the h.e.l.l up as he approached her. "I'm sorry. And ... thank you."

Julia smiled. "Thank you, Mark."

I felt my body relax. Mark was unpredictable, and who knew what was going to come out of his mouth at any given moment. It was a relief knowing I wasn't going to have to beat the c.r.a.p out of him.

"Let's go to bed," I said, quietly, and I took her hand and led her back to my room.

The moment she walked inside, her face lifted into a grin. "Is it safe to sleep in here?"

I gave her a sour look, but then took a second glance around the room, and I guess I could see where she was coming from. Place was a mess. The top of my old, scarred dresser I'd picked up beside the sidewalk was scattered with paper, mostly messy musical notations. The floor, what you could see of it, had old, dingy carpeting, but my clothes, which were fairly evenly distributed around the floor, completely hid that.

The sheets were clean. But rumpled.

In fact, the only genuinely clean spot in the room was the corner opposite the window, where my guitar leaned in its stand.

I grunted. "Once the light is out, you won't even notice."

She snickered, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her warmth against my chest.

"I'm proud of you," I said. "No one else could have carried off what you did this weekend."

"No," she said. "It was your music that did it. All I did was give the song to a friend and ask him to pa.s.s it on to his dad."

"My music, which I would have sold short to a bankrupt studio."

She shrugged.

"We make a good team," she said.

I leaned forward, bringing our lips together. She breathed deeply, pressing against me, as our tongues played against each other, wet, pa.s.sionate. For the first time since I was in middle school, my lips were actually sore from so much kissing. I slid my hands down, cupping her b.u.t.t, and she moaned, and suddenly her fingers were clawing at my back, pulling me closer, it felt like she was trying to get inside me.

My lips dropped to her neck, and she gasped and pushed me toward the bed. I pulled her along, lying down with her on top of me, and then her lips were moving down the base of my throat, and I whispered, "G.o.d, I love you."

She froze, her whole body suddenly going rigid.

f.u.c.k!

She was off me, and moving toward the door.

"I have to go," she said, her voice shaking.

"Julia, wait!"

"No!" she shouted. Her eyes were watering and she said, "Why the h.e.l.l did you have to say that, Crank?"

And then she opened the door and ran out.

I followed, running down the hall after her and grabbed her wrist. Jesus, I had to stop her.

"Julia, stop! Just wait a second!"

"Let me go!" she screamed, yanking her arm away from me. "Why do you have to ruin it? Why? I'm done here."

I reached for her again, and she slapped my chest, pus.h.i.+ng me away, and then slapped harder, backing away from me.

"Julia, please!"

"Don't you ever say that to me. We aren't ... whatever you think we are. We never will be."

Then she turned and walked out.

I slumped against the wall, rage and sadness warring inside me, my stomach clenched. I balled my fist and slammed it into the wall and shouted a curse. What the h.e.l.l? I didn't understand.

I didn't understand. I didn't understand how I'd fallen for this girl, and I didn't understand why she ran away. Nothing made sense, and I didn't know how to fix it. I felt out of control, desperate, and I wanted to run after her, to make her explain.

But I knew she wouldn't.

A soft voice beside me, edged with anger. "What did you do, Crank?"

I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted, the emotion draining out of me as if someone had just pulled the plug. Serena was standing next to me, a look of mixed concern and scorn on her face. She'd seen girls run out of here before, but this was different. This was Julia.

She asked the question again, her voice insistent.

"What did you do to her? Why did she leave like that?"

I took a deep breath and answered honestly.

"I told her I loved her."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Like dust (Julia) It was midnight when I got back to my room. Blessedly, none of my suitemates were in. Adriana and Linden had gone home for the holiday, and Jemi was out, I didn't know where. I didn't want to deal with questions from her about the very sudden trip to California, so it was just as well. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The sun was high up in the sky when I woke the next morning to the sound of my cell phone buzzing on the nightstand next to my bed. I reached over and picked it up, answering with a groggy, "h.e.l.lo?"

"Julia, it's Serena."

I fought to open my eyes and let them slowly focus on the clock. Almost noon.

"What is it?"

"Are you asleep?"

"I was."

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I was just calling to check in."

My brow furrowed. "Check in ... why?"

Then it sank in. She was calling because of me storming out of the warehouse last night. A stab of anxiety shot through me.

"Um ... you seemed pretty upset last night."

"Don't worry about it, Serena."

I didn't want to say, it's none of your business. Even though it clearly was none of her business.

"Sorry," she said, "I don't mean to pry. I just wanted to make sure ... that we're okay. The band."

I blinked. "Of course we are."

"You and Crank, um ..."

"Serena, listen. What happened between Crank and me is ... private. Okay? I don't want to talk about it. But it won't affect our business relations.h.i.+p."

"Oh. I'm glad," she said. She didn't sound glad. Or relieved, or anything else. Finally, she said, "Just so you know ... Crank's as ... upset as I've ever seen him. He's really torn up over you leaving."

I closed my eyes, lying back against the pillow. My heart was thumping in my chest, and an unaccountable sadness ran through me. "And that's exactly why I had to leave. And I'm not saying another word about it, all right? If Crank's upset, tell him to go pick up some girl, I'm sure he'll get it out of his system."

Before she could answer, I disconnected the call. I curled up on my side, staring at the wall. I had what I wanted, didn't I? I had my independence. I had my security: no ties to break me apart. No risk, no overwhelming, out of control emotions taking hold of me and making me do things, making me allow things that I didn't want.

So why the h.e.l.l did I feel so heartbroken?

My arms were curled up in front of me, and I could easily trace the lines of the scars on my wrist from that hideous year when I'd finally given up and willed myself to die. Looking at the scars gave me strength. It reminded me that being dependent on people you love is nothing but a crutch. It reminded me that the inevitable result of love is heartbreak. It reminded me that the other side of those overwhelming emotions was death.

And I wasn't willing to go there. I wasn't willing to do that harm to myself ever again. Never again would I watch my own lifeblood pouring out of me into a bathtub because I needed people in my life. I was going to live life on my terms or not at all.

It was bitter, like dust, a bare moonscape inside my heart instead of flowers or bunnies or hearts or whatever the h.e.l.l other people wanted to feel like. But it was also survival; it was life. And it was mine. No matter how much my heart yearned for Crank, no matter how much my body wanted him, my mind knew that he was a mistake.

Watch you go (Crank) I made it amply clear I wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone the moment Julia left. Mark and Pathin avoided me carefully all day Sunday, until Serena finally barged into my room and demanded, "Aren't you supposed to be moving back in with your brother today?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "I'll go hop on the T in a little while."