Sarah
He rented a Chevy Malibu. I felt like everyone rented Chevy Malibus, like grandmas and rental car places kept the Chevy Malibu on the road. This Malibu was maroon, which doesn’t make me think or feel Malibu at all. Malibu was a laid-back glitzy place with palm trees and mansion-lined beaches. I promise there were no maroon Chevies there, none. I don’t know why I was so darn fixated on the car. Probably because I wanted to think about anything but the hours ahead, trapped in a closed space with Horse, who had basically shunned me when I threw myself at him the night before.
Watching him heave our bags into the trunk of the car, his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt, I decided fairy godmothers did not exist because, if they did, I would definitely not remember what happened with Horse. But I remembered. I remembered the heat of his tongue in my mouth, the strength in the grip and knead of his hands, and how my heart raced when I felt him pressing against my thigh.
I also remembered the sting of his rejection. It was everything I could do to not cry when he jumped up, and then I was so embarrassed and I got angry. Horse was just another man who treated me like a girl. Although, I had to admit, it was honorable for a man to not take advantage of a woman who’d had too much to drink… but even drunk, I wasn’t planning on going all the way with him. And the way he handled it was so cold. We were having fun, weren’t we? I mean, it seemed like he was into it, but honestly, I still felt like there was more to it than a few drinks. Maybe I was terrible? Maybe I wasn’t sexy enough? Either way, I wasn’t feeling this current situation, the two of us a foot apart in our maroon Malibu.
As we pulled out of the lot, he asked, “Should we stop and get some snacks? Road food? Water?”
I shrugged as a response.
“I thought you might be hungry or thirsty after last night.” His voice was soft and kind, but I still avoided looking at him or conversing.
Even more gently, he said, “It’s a long drive, Sarah. I’m hoping we can clear the air.”
I looked at him. His face was relaxed and open. He was trying.
“I want fries and a greasy burger. Also, lots of water.”
He smiled and turned the wheel. “Coming right up.”
He took me through the drive-through of a place called Fat Mo’s and ordered two deluxe burgers with fries and drinks and also an order of fried pickles. We ate in the car and didn’t talk much. The burger was perfect. It had cheese and mushrooms and onions and BBQ sauce. So good. I moaned on my first bite, and next to me, Horse choked on his.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yep, just fine,” he said, his pitch a little higher than usual.
Other than that, we were silent during our meal. In fact, we stayed silent for a while, even after we left the parking lot and headed on our way. Horse didn’t seem to mind silence, but I thought maybe he was waiting for me to say something. After about twenty minutes, I stopped waiting for him to speak and started letting my mind drift. Instinctually, I was humming, working on a new song in my head.
“I’ve heard you hum that before,” Horse said.
He had? Humming was one of the first steps in my songwriting process. It was like I heard musical phrases in my head, and then they grew up to be songs. No one had ever really noticed my humming before. Mostly because I did it in my quietest moments when I was being with myself, and usually there was no one around to listen.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes, the other day when you were making instant oatmeal on the bus.”
Oh, I forgot about that. We were the only two up early that morning. He was working and we didn’t talk much, so I just made breakfast and went back to my bedroom.
“Is it a new song?” he asked.
I nodded.
He hummed it back to me, exactly. “Is that the chorus or the verse?”
I responded, curious to know just how much Horse knew about music. “The chorus, I think.”
He nodded but didn’t extrapolate.
“Why?” I asked, feeling pushy.
“It’s catchy, but in that last measure, you need to hold the note longer and then punch it.”
He hummed again, changing my melody to match his advice. He was right, for sure.
“Not bad,” I said, underplaying how much better it was that way. “And you know this how?” Still curious but also not sure whether I should feel annoyed or impressed that he was tuned in.
He shrugged. “I know music.” Frustratingly, he left it at that.
“You are an enigma,” I said, turning to look out the window.
“I thought I was a weed,” he quipped.
I could see the reflection of my smile in the glass of the window. “That too.”
Then, uncharacteristically, he started to spill all kinds of information. “Listen, about last night. I think I offended you. I offend people easily. It’s like a talent, but I didn’t mean to offend you. And when you kissed me… well, who would have the sense to stop that immediately? I mean, you’re a sexy woman, Sarah. I shouldn’t have let that happen because you’d been drinking, and because I work for you and your sister-in-law. You don’t fraternize on a tour and I know that. Anyway, I’m really sorry.”
He said a lot of things, but the only thing I really heard was that he thought I was sexy. My stomach churned with excitement. I loved that he thought I was sexy. I loved that he struggled to not kiss me—he said that too. That he couldn’t help himself. I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I remembered him not stopping. Once I’d moved beyond my own ego, I picked up that last sentiment.
“You don’t fraternize on a tour?” I asked.
“People do, but you’re not supposed to. It’s bad for the tour. It’s like not sleeping with your bandmates. You don’t want to break up the band. The crew is the same; we all have to count on each other, so it can’t get too messy.”
I wasn’t used to having conversations like this with a man I’d kissed. I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure I’d kissed a man before. I’d mostly kissed boys, gangly horny toads, really. Horse was something different. He was a legit grown-up, willing to do the work, acknowledge the awkwardness between us, and communicate about it. “So, you’re telling me that you don’t want us to get messy?” I asked just for clarification.
He laughed and I realized how that sounded.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said.
“I know.” He was still smirking. “Truth is, Sarah, a big part of me is dying to get messy with you. But it’s really complicated. There are factors.”
OMG!Horse wanted to get messy with me. I had to be blushing from head to toe. I was also having a little trouble breathing. My lungs were in a state of happy shock, which was weird because I was pretty sure I’d thought I kinda hated him. But I certainly didn’t hate him last night. Okay, I might have had a little crush on Horse since the minute I laid eyes on him. And yet, it was all for naught because what he was telling me was that no matter how much he liked me, it wasn’t going to happen.
“Like not fraternizing,” I faux grumped, making it clear that the idea of fraternizing wasn’t totally unappealing to me.
“Yes. And, well, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” He wasn’t looking at me. He had his eyes on the road but something in his jaw changed and I could tell he was uncomfortable.
“What does that mean?” I asked, instantly annoyed.
“I’m pretty sure it means you’re gonna be mad at me again in a minute.”
“What does that mean?” I asked again, trying not to already be mad.
He sighed. “Well, I’ve noticed that you don’t like to be treated like a kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” I said haughtily, sounding like a kid.
“I know you’re a woman with your own mind, Sarah. I do. But you’re Kat’s little sister and you're young and I’m not…”
I cut him off. “Let’s get something straight. I am not just a woman with my own mind. I am a woman in control of my own choices and they get no say in who I want or don’t want to date or fraternize with or whatever.”
“They?”