Chapter 13

"EVERY TIME I TRIED TO TELL YOU, THE WORDS JUST CAME OUT WRONG"

OCTOBER 21st, 1980

I don't dream much.

Well, that's probably not true. Everybody dreams. What I don't do, often, is remember my dreams. It has to be a particularly vivid one. Plus, I generally have to wake up during or right after it to remember it. Since I sleep like a coma, that doesn't happen often.

So, the ones I remember tend to be very, very vivid. Rather lifelike, which is disconcerting sometimes. There have been a few. In the first life, I had one that stuck with me for years--the main female character in my first novel came to me in a very vivid and very detailed dream. She sat down in front of me, and said, "Hi, I'm Sophia, and you're going to write about me." And then told me all about herself. That's a dream that I'll never forget. I got four hundred thousand words out of that dream. So, yeah, it happens. But, for me to remember a dream that well, it has to be a pretty memorable dream.

Like, for instance, an argument with a ghost.

It was a couple days after my talk with Deb. I was still mulling the whole thing over. And, one night, when I went to sleep, my subconcious decided to send some help with the mulling.

I knew it was a dream, but, damn--there she was. Sitting on a bench in some undefined woodsy park.

"Hello, Beffy," my dream-self said.

"Hi, yourself," she smiled. "I hear you got a problem."

"You heard right." I sat down next to her.

"Eddie. She's a wonderful girl, you know that? I think you could make her very happy."

"Well, maybe, but would I be happy?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

I thought for a minute. "When I told you about the whole back-in-time thing, did I tell you I'd been married in my first life?"

"No! Really?"

"Yeah. She left me a few years before the send-back. Dumped me for another woman."

"Oh, jeez!"

"That wasn't the real problem, though. Look, she was very high-maintenance."

"High-maintenance?"

"Needy. Demanding. Wanted someone to dote on her 24-7. She spent the first fifteen years of our relationship following me around like a puppy asking 'Do you love me? Do you love me?' And I couldn't live up to that. Nobody could. Before the send-back, I heard she was having trouble with the woman she dumped me for--and for the same reason. She constantly needed reassurance." I snorted. "Of course, the problem was, whether or not she loved me was never even discussed. It was all about her."

"And you didn't deal with that well."

"Not at all. Hey, I like alone time, you know? You know I like being in love, you saw it. But I like a balance. I can't handle people that needy. Plus, any time I tried to assert even the tiniest sliver of my rights, I got called selfish. I couldn't win. It was all about her."

"And you think Olivia is the same way."

"It's crossed my mind."

"You're wrong," Beth said. "Olivia needs love, yes. But it's not the same. Look at it this way: what demands has Livvie made on you? The answer is none. She didn't even tell you how she feels--Debbie figured it out and told you. Olivia hasn't asked a thing of you. And she probably never will."

"Hmm," was all I said.

"I think there's a difference," Beth went on. "She's needy, but she's not high-maintenance. She takes what you have to give. That's probably not particularly good for her, if you think about it. But she's so affection-starved that she'll take little morsels, you know? She basks in your friendship, even though she wants more."

"Yeah, but I'm afraid of what happens if I give her more."

"You think she'll morph into a clinging vine?"

"Well, yes," I laughed.

"I don't see it. I just don't, Eddie. Look, you know what her life is. She has nothing. She looks more needy to you than she really is because she's coming from a place where there is no love. She doesn't need you to be everything--she just needs you to be something. See the difference?"

"Hm. I see your point."

"Plus, if what Debbie told you is true--and I'm inclined to agree with her--then it won't be as one-sided as your marriage apparently was. Olivia doesn't just want you to validate herself. She wants you because she loves you."

"That's true."

"You need love too. I saw it with Kara and Kelly. You're a happier person when you're in a relationship."

"Yeah."

"Outside of what you just said, how do you feel about Livvie?"

"I like her. I've always liked her. That was really my only reservation. Besides worrying about that, I like her a lot."

"And I hope I helped you out with your reservations."

"You did."

"So? Go for it!"

"You know what? I think I just might."

"Good!"

"You always know what to say to me. Even now." She laughed at that. "So, can I get away with hugging a ghost?"

"In a dream, you can!" So, I did.

Then I woke up.

OCTOBER 25th, 1980

I wasn't as freaked about it as I might have been, actually. The dream, I mean.

It was very lifelike. That should've freaked me. I mean, there she was, in all her glory. It certainly looked like Beth. She said things that sounded like things that Beth would say. If they came dredged up from my subconscious, that was a neat trick.

But I just accepted it. I guess, when you've been thrown back in time thirty years, you stop looking for rational explanations for everything.

Besides which, I appreciated the advice.

So, on this day, a Saturday, I decided to do something about it. I called Olivia, and went over there. We were sitting on her front stoop, talking about nothing, when I just decided to hit her with it.

"So, Debbie said something interesting to me on the phone the other day."

"Really? What?"

"She's convinced you're madly in love with me."

You know, I've read the phrase "all the color drained from her face" before, but I don't think I'd actually ever seen it happen. Not quite this vividly, anyhow. I mean, she went completely pale. And she stared at me with those big brown eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

"So. Is this true?" I asked.

She still stared at me. But, damn, I guess I should've been a little more subtle, because it looked like she was going to start crying any minute. We can't have that, right? So, I didn't say anything else.

I kissed her instead.

I think that's the first time I've ever felt someone else heave a big sigh of relief! It wasn't a big tongue-suck, just a little kiss, but it definitely worked.

I broke the kiss, but kept my face close to hers, and asked again. "Is it true?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good." I moved away from her and sat back on the stoop. "So, you wanna go to Max's and get a burger? We could call this our first date, if you want. Of course, come to think about it, we've pretty much been 'dating' for a while now. But if you want to call this our first date, we can--just to make it official and all."

I think you could've heard the squeal of delight in Boston! And, the next thing I knew, I had a very happy female in my lap, kissing my neck.

"Oh, God," she said when she moved away from my neck. "Do you know how long I've been trying to tell you? Since Kara left. Definitely since Kara found her new guy. When you told me about that, I wanted to tell you. I just couldn't."

"It's OK."

"God, I never thought that you might, you know, feel, you know..."

"OK, let's say this. I like you. I like you a lot. I'm willing to see where it goes from there. Fair enough?"

"Perfect."

Max's was a decently easy bike drive, but a long walk, and we wanted to walk. So, we went to a sub shop that was closer, walking hand-in-hand.

"I'm surprised you never saw it," she giggled. "I thought I was being way too obvious."

"Well, that's what Debbie said," I laughed. "Livvie, I'll be honest. I guess I didn't see it because I never thought about it. Debbie pointed out why--I had you interwtined in my mind with Beth. Which was stupid, but I wasn't doing it consciously."

"Ah. That's not what I thought it was, but it makes sense."

"What did you think it was?"

She looked down. "Nice guys don't go out with me."

"They do now," I said firmly. Livvie lit up like a Christmas tree.

We got the subs and took them back to her house. We ate them out on the stoop.

When we were done, she said, "Come in. Nobody else is home." She quickly led me back to her bedroom. "I don't spend any time in the rest of the house if I can help it." She closed the door.

"Won't people be suspicious? If you get caught in the bedroom with a guy with the door closed?"

"My mother doesn't dare say a word. I've had to listen to her getting laid for as long as I can remember," she snorted.

"I'm more worried about your brothers."

"They don't live here anymore. My mother kicked them out. They're out of school and working, so Mom said they can fend for themselves. They live downtown. And even if they stop by, just growl back at them. They back down easy."

"OK," I said. "So what do you want to do?"

She got shy. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I can think of a few things," I said with an exaggerated leer, which made her giggle. "But maybe we should take it slow."

"Really?" she said.

"Well, let's do this, and see how it goes." I leaned over, and kissed her. She eagerly returned it. We ended up making out a bit. It was actually very nice--Olivia was a hell of a kisser.

We made out for a while, then she broke it. "We can go further than this, you know."

"Well, let's take it one step at a time for now."

"OK," she said, but I saw a flicker of dismay cross her face. I figured I knew what that was about.

"Don't for a minute think it's that I don't want you. I do. Believe me. I'm just not a jump-in-bed-right-away person. Not my style."

"OK," she said, and then giggled. "I'm so not used to that!"

"Hey, you were around when I was dating Chris, you heard Beth and I talk about it."

"Oh, yeah. Went way too fast. I see your point. Just remember, Eddie, there's a slight difference. I'm no virgin."

"True. But I still would rather work my way up to it. I mean, isn't this nice?" We were lying on her bed, wrapped up in one another. I was stroking her hair. "I think this is nice."

"This is very nice," she agreed. "So. The band all ready for Friday?"

"Getting there. We have one more practice tomorrow. We're going to run through the whole set from beginning to end. Are you going Friday?"

"You kidding me? I wouldn't miss it." She laughed. "It's funny. The boyfriends I've had wouldn't be caught dead at something like a school dance. So, the only times I've ever gone were alone. And I always sat there waiting for someone to ask me to dance--which never happened, of course." She grinned at me. "And, now, this time, I'll actually have my boyfriend at the dance. And I still won't get to dance!"

"Sorry, honey, you're dating a musician. Better get used to it."

"I'm kidding. I think it's great. I'd rather watch you guys play. I'll just have to dance with myself."

"Ah, I'll send Steve or somebody to get you out on the floor once or twice. Maria won't mind. Or, I'll have Peter dance with you when Kara wants to watch. They're coming, you know."

"Peter is her new guy?"

"Yeah."

"You OK with that?"

"Sure. I told her to bring him. And that was before I had you. And now that I got you, what the hell do I care?" She sighed happily and snuggled deeper into my arms. "However, Kara and I will always, always, always be the closest of friends. Does that bother you?"

"No. It really doesn't. I trust you." She looked down at her feet and said, "Someone I was close to once knew you like a book, remember that. I know what you're all about. I don't worry about that, at all."

She took a breath. "In a lot of ways, I knew you through her. Of course, I knew you, but I got more info, a lot more, from Beth. She thought you were the greatest, you know. 'Best friend anyone could ever hope for. Nobody's more loyal.' Stuff like that. If you're that loyal to your friends, I don't ever worry about you being loyal to a girlfriend."

I was more than a little stunned by this. Not so much that Beth said it, but that Olivia was strong enough to talk about it. She went on, though. "I have to admit, knowing you through Beth--well, that's probably why I kind of avoided you for a while, after, you know..."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"And, just so you know, it was after I got over that--after I called you this summer, and started hanging around with you--that's when I fell in love with you. Wasn't because of Beth."

"OK."

"But because of Beth I trust you more than I might otherwise."

"That makes sense. You don't trust particularly easily."

She laughed bitterly. "Would you, if you lived my life?"

"Probably not. I'm glad you trust me, though."

"I do." She sighed. "I'm glad about the dance, and you playing. That's going to be fun. The next day isn't going to be quite as fun."

"For either of us."

"I'd, well, I'd like it if we spent it together. That would make things easier."

"You got it."

After that, we just cuddled some more and made out a bit. It was great.

After I got home, I called Debbie. She was ecstatic. Happy for me, yes, but even more ecstatic that she was right!

Then, I called Kara. I knew I needed to tell her. After a bit of small talk, I got right to it.

"Kara, I started going out with Olivia today."

I could hear the smirk in her voice. "Saw that coming."

"Wow, did everyone see this coming except me?"

"Apparently. I think it's great, you know. You two will be good for one another. And now I don't have to worry about you."

"You never did, silly."

"A little. But now I don't. I'm glad for you, Eddie."

OCTOBER 31st, 1980

The big debut.

The stage was all set up--in the gym at Cabot High--and we were waiting in a side room that had been put aside for us.

I think we were all slightly nervous--well, all except Stan. That's just not his personality. First of all, he's mister happy-go-lucky. Second of all, he's confident in his abilities on the guitar. So, his whole attitude was, "Hey, we can play these songs. So let's go do it. It'll be fun." He was fine, he was trying to calm Michelle down. She was all right, but there were definite butterflies. So Stan was talking her through it.

And then there was Debbie.

There's a difference between nervous--and staring into space, shaking. Which is what Debbie was doing. I guess that was one way to cure my mild nervousness--make me try to help her with her extreme nervousness.

I sat down next to her. "You OK?" I asked.

"I can't do this," she hissed.

"Yes, Deb, you can."

"I can't! What the hell was I thinking? I'm going to go out there? In front of people? Who are all going to be murmuring about the school slut? I can't do this!"

"Yes you can. You think you're the only one they're going to be murmuring about? Lessee, on lead vocals, we got me, the school geek. On keyboards, we have Karen The Invisible Mouse. And then there's our bass player. You think anyone at this school ever thought they'd see pristine, classy, straight-A student Michelle Pepper playing bass in a rock band dressed like that?"

Deb snorted out a laugh. "Oh, God." Michelle hadn't gone for the leopard-print miniskirt--but she was wearing a miniskirt and it was tight. High heels, fishnet stockings, and this barely-there spaghetti-strap thing that showed beaucoup cleavage finished the ensemble. She was my best friend's girlfriend and one of my best friends and part of me still wanted to jump her!

"And let's not forget the third song of the set, and the first one she sings," I said. "And she insisted on that placement." The song was Up The Neck by the Pretenders, a rocker that just exudes sweaty sex.

"I know," Debbie laughed. "I can't believe her. I cornered her when I saw how she was dressed, and asked her if she was unleashing her inner sexbomb now that she's getting laid." I cracked up at that. "She just gave me this very knowing smile."

"So. The school geek is going to blow them away with his voice. The school sweetheart is unleashing her inner sexbomb. The only one that nobody's going to be surprised to see up there is Stan. And you think they're all gonna be talking about you?"

"They still will be," she said, getting glum again.

"Debbie. The first song we're doubling the riff so we'll cover for each other. But the second song is Prove It All Night. And you're going to do what you do every day in practice--you're going to pick up your sax and blow everybody away. OK? You know that song cold and it sounds great. And if everyone's still calling you the school slut, you know what they're going to be saying? 'Wow! Who ever thought the school slut could play like that?' Then you're going to pick up the guitar and blow them away with that. Just remember that. You're good. You're damn good. That's what you want them talking about, and you can absolutely do it."

"You think so?"

"I know so." I grabbed her around the shoulders and looked right into her eyes. "Listen to me, Deborah Romelski. You have talent. I almost wish you were in a band where you weren't third option some of the time, but there's still enough there. We're playing four hours. You're playing guitar, percussion, tenor sax, baritone sax--hell, you're playing flute on one song. And you're a great harmony singer and you get to do that, too. Debbie, you're good. Damn good, and good at doing a lot of different things. Let's go show 'em."

She smiled at me for a minute, then kissed me on the cheek and said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, and anytime."

"Are we ready to rock and roll?" Stan yelled.

I couldn't resist. "Well, your girlfriend certainly looks like she is, but you guys have to wait until after the gig."

"Oh, God, don't say that," Stan said, "she keeps threatening to change her clothes."

"I wanted to shock people, but now I'm all self-conscious."

"Michelle, you look dynamite. If you weren't my best friend's girlfriend I'd be trying to pick you up." She giggled at that. "And you will definitely shock people. You look great. You look like a bass-playing rock chick. Go with it."

"I am. It's too late to change anyway!" She giggled and looked at me. "Besides which, you won't be noticing me in a minute anyway."

"Hm?"

"I looked out there a minute ago. Somebody went shopping," she giggled.

"Huh?"

"You'll see."

I just looked at her. Then, it was almost time to go.

We went to the doorway entering the gym. We all waited there for a minute, waiting for the Student Council president to introduce us. While we were standing there, I saw what Michelle was talking about.

Olivia, as I've said, was poor--and her clothes often reflected that more than anything. But I knew she'd been doing some babysitting to get some spending money. Now I knew what she spent some of it on.

Look, my attraction to Olivia wasn't physical. It was mental. Despite my reservations that I'd discussed with 'Beth' in my dream, I was very attracted to Olivia's personality. She was sweeter than a glazed donut, for starters. She was smart. I found her vulnerability very appealing. She was a great conversationalist--and, even rarer, a superb listener. She was also trustworthy and loyal. So, that's where the attraction came from.

Don't get me wrong--she was damn cute. Especially in the eyes, and the smile, and her smile reached right into her eyes, something that always struck me. I was a complete sucker for that. But her body? Well, I rather suspected she had one, mind you, but I hadn't seen much of it. The raggedy hand-me-downs she usually wore didn't lend themselves to scoping out her assets.

Well, standing there waiting to go play, I got myself one hell of a scope.

It wasn't as out-there as what Michelle had on, but it was close. Sneakers instead of high heels, and white knee-highs instead of the fishnets. The miniskirt wasn't tight, but short it certainly was, and pleated. If she got off a good twirl on the dance floor, I'd be able to tell what color her panties were, let's put it that way.

And the shirt was very close to Michelle's--a skimpy, tight, spaghetti-strap thing. Lavender, to go with the purple miniskirt. The first thing I noticed about that, strangely enough, was that Olivia had really cute shoulders. Don't ask me to explain that. She just did. I looked and said to myself, "I could get used to nibbling on those shoulders."

Then I looked down.

Oy.

You know, I certainly assumed Olivia had tits, her being a girl and all. But not like that.

Jesus.

Don't ask me to tell you cup size, I have no freakin' idea. All I know is, whatever the cup size was, she was spilling out of it. Impressively. I mean, we're talking about cleavage. My oh my.

You know, there's different ways to wear a guitar. Stan had his low-slung. I preferred mine on the high side, up over my stomach--it's easier for me, especially with all the finger-picking and strumming I had to do. And, at that moment, it was a damn good thing. Because I would not want to have to go out there and start banging my guitar around down near crotch level. Not with the boner I had just sprouted!

I say again: Jesus.

Michelle caught me gazing at this. "Told you," she giggled. "Close your mouth, you're letting the flies in." Before I could respond to that--my brain wasn't working at that moment--the Student Council president announced us. Showtime. We headed for the stage.

But I made sure to pass Livvie on the way up there. "God, you look good enough to eat. If I didn't have to go play rock and roll, I'd nibble from your head to your toes." I got a delighted giggle and a megawatt smile for my troubles for that one.

However, that was a project for another time. Now it was time to play. We got up there and strapped on the instruments--or sat behind them. We quickly made sure we were all still in tune.

And, yeah, the murmuring started. Towards Deb and me, sure. What's the school slut/geek doing up there? That kind of thing. I just shot Deb a 'trust me' look.

Of course, they murmured about Deb and I, but when they got to Michelle--it was just sharp intakes of breath, mostly. With the odd longing sigh. I felt like making an announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the stars of our show: Michelle's Boobies!"

I was getting giddy. The nervousness had come back. The butterflies in my stomach were doing a tango. I looked back at Dave, settling in behind his drum kit. I gave him the 'let's get on with it before I throw up' look--he caught it. settled down, counted us in, and away we went. Deb and I hit the riff, the rest of the band kicked in, I stepped to the mike, and we were off. "Just a castaway, a pilot lost at sea, oh! Another lonely day, no one here but me, oh..."

It sounded good. Not great, but good. I stayed on tune and remembered the words, thank goodness. Our rhythm section, as always, kicked ass. Message In A Bottle was a good opening tune--nobody was screaming or anything, but people were bopping up and down to it.

Then we hit Prove It All Night, a song intended to raise the energy level. You don't want to hit 'em with that first off, but as a second song, it was perfect. And we really knew how to play that one. As I predicted, people's eyes popped out of their heads when Deb hit the sax solo. Especially since, before and after she took that solo, she was strumming an acoustic guitar. Show that versatility, babe! Someone even yelled "YEAH!" in the middle of the solo--I could see Deb's mouth curve into a bit of a smile even with a sax mouthpiece between her lips. Stan answered her with a screaming guitar solo of his own. People were already dancing and hooting.

Then it was time for Michelle the Sexbomb, and Up The Neck. I loved the Pretenders in the first life. The minute that album came out, over the summer, I played it for Michelle, hoping she'd like it and get some good tunes from it to sing. She loved it--though I never expected her to pick this song! The words are a bit cryptic, but the allusions and the atmosphere speak of sweaty, animalistic sex. Michelle's voice is naturally sweeter than Chrissie Hynde's, but she managed the appropriate sneer, as our triple-guitar attack screamed away.

I knew, right from the minute we got this gig, that certain band member's lives were going to change, especially around school, if we played well enough. Three songs in, it was apparent that Michelle's life was going to change drastically. Her image as the pristine A-student 'good girl' was gone, gone, gone. She'd long been the 'catch' of the school, but now she'd opened herself up to even more of that. I hoped she could handle it. Shit, considering all the guys looking at her with undisguised lust--I hoped Stan could handle it! At this point, he was clearly enjoying himself. He was looking at her with this huge grin on his face, wailing away at the guitar part, as she purred into the microphone. Hell, I knew why he was grinning. I thought it was great. But I didn't have to fend off the line of lust-crazed suitors!

We concluded the Rock Your Ass Off opening with Tom Petty's Here Comes My Girl, a fine tune that showed off our blend--guitars melding with piano and organ, Michelle's harmonies going up on top of my lead.

We slowed it down then, throwing off a couple of slow songs for the canoodlers. We came out of that with Because The Night--which was just awesome. We cruised through it, everyone hitting every note perfectly, and Michelle was fantastic. We'd been doing just fine, but at that moment, we clicked. Totally. And Michelle was inspiring complete rapture out in the crowd. As we started the intro to the next song, I sidled up beside her and whispered, "You're a hit." She looked stunned--delightedly so.

We did a couple more songs, including a nice bash through The Who's Substitute... Then I stepped to the mike and said, "I was going to dedicate this song to my girlfriend, Olivia, but I decided I didn't want to be beaten to a bloody pulp tonight." Everyone looked at me quizically until the song started--Queen's Fat Bottomed Girls. Livvie laughed harder than anyone.

We threw a couple more slow songs out, including You've Lost That Loving Feeling, which I had twisted Stan's arm to do--we did it as a duet. He was fine. Debbie showed those flute-playing abilities on Ruby Tuesday. Then we ended the first set with a fine one-two punch: Badfinger's No Matter What; and Just What I Needed by the Cars. Michelle told them we'd be right back after a short break. The cheering was music to our ears.

We got back to the little room, and just looked at one another. Finally Stan grinned, shook his head, and said, "Boys and girls, I think we might just have something here."

"No shit," I agreed.

"Hell, they even stopped looking at Michelle's cleavage and started dancing," Kenny said with a chuckle.

"Which is like a miracle," I said.

"Jeez," Michelle groaned. "They weren't staring that bad."

"Oh, yes they were," I laughed. "Stan, I hope you've got weapons to fend them off, buddy."

"Oh, he doesn't have anything to worry about," Michelle purred. "Besides which, I'm up on stage. Your girlfriend is down there--within easy reach. I saw seven guys ask her to dance. And I don't think they really meant 'dance'!"

"And she turned them all down," I grinned.

"Did you have any idea?" Michelle asked.

"None at all. That little get-up was a surprise."

"At least I knew what Michelle had planned," Stan laughed.

"I didn't mind at all. It was a great surprise," I said.

Just then, the scantily-clad girlfriend in question peeked her head through the doorway. "Hi. Can I come in?"

"Of course," I said. She walked over to me. "That's some outfit," I told her.

"Glad you like," she laughed.

"They were teasing me about dressing up like bass-playing rock chick," Michelle said. "I think you've got Rock and Roll Groupie covered!"

"Only for one rock and roller," Livvie laughed.

"Good," I said. "I don't share. And at least we've got one fan."

"Oh, you've got a lot more than that," Livvie said. "You guys were fantastic! You should hear what they're saying out there. They think you're great, and they can't believe it!"

"Because of who's in the band," I said.

"Right," Olivia agreed. "They're not surprised about Stan, but the rest of you... Of course, I heard a lot of people mooning over Michelle."