Chapter Seven

“What if I want more? What if I want more?” Stiff Litter Fingers

The rest of that autumn passed in a similar fashion. Lather, drink, repeat. I managed to pull decent grades on my finals, with a few Adderal-fueled all nighters in the Wellesley library. Andrew and I tripped our way along one of those blurred college romances; we drank together, I watched all his gigs, and we occasionally managed to have sober sex. But despite Marie’s warning about my tendency to dive bomb into my inevitable heartaches, I liked him. I had seen Javier around and barely even noticed. One night, as I sat on a bar stool, swiveling back and forth while sipping a vodka tonic, he appeared at my side, surprising me.
“You are like a ghost, carina.” He smiled.
“I’m at least 99% sure I’m alive, Javi.” I accidentally used his nickname, and cleared my throat.
“Why haven’t we spent time together?” I now remembered his slightly old fashioned way of speaking, “I spent a year without seeing your beautiful face, I don’t know how.”
I almost rolled my eyes. Andrew never flattered me like this. He was honest with his compliments, not overly theatrical. Javier, who had mesmerized me before, seemed silly now, and I saw what everyone else had seen back then. I cringed with embarrassment.
“I’m seeing someone, Javier, so…” I saw awkwardly as I avoided his eye contact.
“He would not make love to you like I can, remember?” I felt embarrassed for him now. Yuck.
“I have to go.” I slid off my stool and walked quickly to the bathroom to recollect myself. I finally had closure on that asshole. What did I think was so great about him? I had, until now, compared Andrew to my recollection of Javier. I realized at that moment the strengths that Andrew and I shared. We had the same sense of humor, passing back and forth quips and mock-insults. We had this innate rapport that never felt forced. He was the smartest boy I knew, as well. I was constantly challenged by him, by his knowledge and competence. But he also let my guard down, and I didn’t feel pressed to be as hard as I was with the girls. I even cried during a movie in front of him. I was cautious though. I felt myself holding parts of me back from him. I was scared he’d realize, just like Javier had last year, that I was just not enough. And frankly, I knew I was a mess underneath. Beneath my groomed exterior, I knew my mind and conscience were tangled, corrupt black cords, choking my organs with anxiety. I found myself lying in bed next to him, his arm curled easily over my stomach, holding my breath for no reason. My muscles felt like they were seized and my thoughts raced. I would ease out of bed, and go into the small bathroom. Sitting on the toilet with my knees nearly touching the sink, I would double over resting my forehead on my folded arms. Sometimes I would stare in the mirror again, searching for reasons why anyone bothered with me at all. But other times, listening to records with Viv and Marie, or eating dinner at a café with Andrew, the cords released their hold on me, and I breathed freely. The anxiety only increased when I realized I would have to go home for Christmas break in a few weeks. I wasn’t a product of a broken home or abuse. My parents’ only crimes were being WASPy and being vaguely disinterested in the particulars of their children’s lives.
One particularly bone-achingly cold night, Andrew and I were reading in bed together when I asked his plans for Christmas.
“Actually, our manager has arranged a short tour of the west coast for us. Los Angeles to Portland.”
“Ugh, lucky. I’ll be drinking martinis while my mother passive aggressively calls me fat at the dinner table.”
“So come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me,” He repeated, putting his book down.
“Okay.” I looked straight in his eyes.
“Just like that?” he smiled, quizzical.
“Please, if I don’t tell my parents, they probably won’t notice.”
“Well now you’re coming, I’ll tell Jason to invite Marie.”
“Really?” They had been on and off (on when fucked up, off when sober) since they met.
“And Viv can come for sheer entertainment value.” Andrew babied her, taking her drinks away when she didn’t need more, watching her like a big brother.
“Shouldn’t you ask someone about this? A manager or something?”
“I already did.”
“You are so cocky.”
“I’m a semi-famous guy in a band; please, you can’t say no to that.” I hit him in the head.
“That’s why I’m with you, you know,” I said in a mock-serious voice, “For the perks and so I can meet a really famous guy.”
“That’s it, enough sass.” He rolled on top of me, holding my hands back, and kissed me deeply. I still felt the same thrill as I did the first night. Kissing him always intensified quickly, both of us grasping at each other’s lips. Even though it was familiar territory by now, I still felt an urgency to explore all of him. His sexuality was blatant even in everyday life. Girls always looked at his low slung skinny jeans, and tight t-shirts with obvious admiration. He joked about his semi-famous indie rocker status, but rock n’ roll sex appeal oozed out of him anyways. He started calling me his muse after a few weeks, and I tried to surprise him constantly. One day I was dressed as Marianne Faithful, the next as Edie Sedgwick. He started playing a cover of “Sweet Jane” during their sets, causing Viv to make catcalls and Colin to point me out in the crowd. But this was Boston, where the music scene was basically lacking. The west coast; would I be enough? I tried to banish those thoughts from my mind and enjoy this: the feel of his calloused fingers running down my thigh, how he shook slightly under my light touch on his back.
Marie’s parents’ response when she told them about our winter break plans was priceless. Independently wealthy bohemians who lived in a loft in Greenwich, they started waxing nostalgic about Haight-Ashbury during the “golden years” when she said she was going on tour with a band. Viv’s parents, a plastic surgeon and former debutante, had long since given up on controlling Viv. And my parents thought I was going on an all-girls road trip. I figured now was not the time to start telling the truth.