Playing Along (28 page)

“It’s the earth that is awesome, Becca,” says Russell, sweeping his hand in the air. “We are merely attempting to protect that awesomeness and hoping everyone else will do the same.”

“Cool, well, I’m on board, Russell,” says Becca, revealing a silver stud in her tongue when she smiles.

Lexi wonders how close Becca is to George? He’s obviously surrounded by witty, trendy girls like her. How silly was she imagining that he might have been gazing at her during his concert? Crazy really. She’s relieved to have moved on from that puerile scenario and can safely say she feels almost nothing at all when she thinks about him now. Almost.

GEORGE
15
^th
February, 2010
Camden, London

LEXI
February 15
^th
, 2010
Camden, London

There are at least eight people in the room and everyone’s talking. Even so, every time George so much as glances at Lexi, it’s as if the world goes quiet.

Lexi has never experienced anything like this ever. She only has to glimpse the back of his head and her stomach tightens. The word ‘butterflies’ has taken on a whole new meaning. She has them. Not just a handful, but a forest of translucent, colorful creatures fluttering against her rib cage and rising up into her throat.

He has to curb an impulse to walk towards to her. To take her hand. To lead her out of the room. He keeps telling himself there is nothing more that could happen to confirm to him that this connection is real.

She has to stop herself from turning around and running out of the door. She wants to gulp cold air into her lungs and freeze this melting feeling. This is not convenient. This should not be happening.

He needs to see her alone.

She needs to be sure that she is
never
alone with him.

“Lexi, what are your thoughts on the subject?” Russell is talking to her. Everyone in the room has stopped to look at her, except George. He is looking at his feet. They have just finished walking around the recording studio and now they are meeting with Gary, the band’s tour manager, to discuss the potential to carbon neutralize the upcoming “Under the Radar” tour.

“Solar energy panels,” Russell continues, “I was saying how we are advising all of our clients that solar panels are the way of the future, isn’t that right, Lexi?”

“Yes, yes,” says Lexi, endeavoring to recover. “Harness the resources we do have rather than exploit those already depleting. The sun is—” George looks up from his shoes and catches her eye.
Oh dear God. This is torture
. She can’t think straight.

“The sun is…”

“Hot,” offers Duncan. “Like you.”

Shit!
thinks George. Duncan’s getting started. He needs to stop him.

“What?” says Lexi.

“Duncan says you look a little hot. Maybe you need some fresh air?” George walks over to her and takes her arm.

“No, I’m fine. Just the jet lag, I think.” Lexi can feel his fingers lightly resting on her sweater. Her cheeks feel like they’re burning.

George is close enough to smell her and thankfully there isn’t even a hint of grapefruit. Rose petals. She smells like rose petals.

“Some air might be a good idea,” says Gabe, getting in on the action. “The journey this direction can really knock you out.”

Russell nods in agreement, “Don’t concern yourself, Lexi. We’ll save the important parts until your return.”

Before she can resist again, which would undoubtedly call even more attention to herself, George is leading her out of the room and into the corridor. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s exhausted. When she and Russell finally made it up to their rooms, Lexi had opened her door to find practically a garden full of long stemmed red roses. There must have been a hundred of them. A small white card was propped against one of the vases.
Happy Valentines Day Sexy Lady, from your not so secret admirer xoxoxoxoxo.

Lexi wasn’t sure whether to feel elated or smothered. She had spent the night lying awake, until she could no longer bear the smell of the petals and thought she might gag.

George opens the door of the studio and leads Lexi outside. The street is teeming with people. In LA you would only ever see this many people in a shopping mall or at the airport. There is a biting breeze and the sky looks like thick grey felt.

“Sorry about Duncan,” says George, beginning to walk. Lexi falls into step next to him, starting to breathe, finding it easier to concentrate now that they are outside. So much for avoiding being alone with him.

“It’s fine, he’s very entertaining. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… the jet lag must be fogging my brain.”

“Yep—that can do it,” says George, trying to work out what’s next. He can’t just say to her,
I hardly even know you but something out of our control is bringing us together
. Or could he? What he really wants to do is kiss her. That’s what he should do. Just kiss her. But that could backfire. She might think he was some sex-crazed rock star and be disgusted. How is he ever going to get this right? The one thing he does know is that he can’t let her leave London without something happening between them. Something concrete, rather than this intense chemistry driving him to distraction.

“Your studio is great,” says Lexi, trying to hold onto a coherent thought.

“We like it,” says George, noticing that Lexi is about two inches shorter than he is. Perfect kissing height. “So is this your first trip to London?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Cool. It’s the best city ever—in my humble opinion. I mean LA is good too but—what have you got planned while you’re here?”

“Other than business? I don’t know, I thought maybe Russell and I could take one of those buses that drive around Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament—try and really embrace the whole obnoxious American tourist thing.”

George laughs. “Go for it. You should get to Abbey Road studios and take a picture of both of you on the zebra crossing—that would be hilarious.”

Lexi notes the word
hilarious
and how when it leaves his lips, it doesn’t bother her at all.

“Maybe we will.”

“How long have you and Russell been together anyway?”

“I’ve been working with him since last year, but I’m positive he’s been campaigning for the environment since birth. We’re not together though, I mean like a couple together—if that’s what you mean? I wasn’t sure…” Lexi trails off embarrassedly. Of course that wasn’t what he meant.

“Together together? No—I didn’t mean that but… good. I mean good that Russell is so passionate about his cause. I love that.” This is going well.

“I know. He really
is
inspiring. And passionate about lots of things. Especially his cat.” Lexi is beginning to feel as if she can say anything to George.

“Really? I don’t like cats,” says George, pushing his hands into his pockets to prevent them from trying to hold hers. “My parents used to have one when I was a kid. They give me the collywobbles.”

“The whatie wobbles?”

“The collywobbles—you know—like the creeps.”

“Or the heebie jeebies?”

“Or the heebie jeebies.”

“Collywobbles—I like it. I’ll have to use that one when I get home.”

“You do that. Let me know how it works.”

Lexi laughs, “Will do. So let me see, you don’t like cats but you have parents. The picture is widening. I bet the parents must be very proud, even if their cat gave you the wobbles.”

“You forgot the colly.”

“Huh?”

“Before the wobbles.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

“Forgiven. Proud parents? That’s another conversation. My family is strange.” Lexi notes his reference to
another conversation
. He’s already anticipating more.

“Oh God—my parents are strange too…”

“What about the rest of you? Any brothers or sisters?” asks George.

“Nope—only me.”

“Might be a lucky escape. I have a sister, but she’s always hated me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone hating you.”

“You’re too kind, but really, she does. She thinks I’m pompous, which I probably am.”

“Maybe she’s jealous—I mean it can’t be the easiest thing in the world having a brother who gets so much attention.”

“Have you been e-mailing her?”

“No! I’m just imagining what it might be like
being
her. My parents were a bit too obsessed with me. I would have loved a brother… or a sister.”

“Ahhh—I’m getting sad. Did
you
have a pet at least? One that you liked?”

“My mom has one now—a yappy little dog called St. Tropez. That’s how weird she is.”

“A hint of irony perhaps?”

“No irony. She honestly thinks it’s a chic name to call a dog.” Lexi notices a girl wearing headphones and a wooly hat look over her shoulder as she passes George.

“It might be the way of the future. You should get a goldfish and call it Liverpool.” George hopes the girl who just walked past isn’t going to backtrack and try to talk to him. He doesn’t want this rhythm ruined. He doesn’t want this to end.

“I could do that,” says Lexi, feeling suddenly like the world is effortless.

“Yes, you could. I could get one too and call it San Diego. They could be pen pals, or Facebook friends I guess.”

“How would they write to one another?”

“They wouldn’t. They’d just transmit silent messages through the water. Like dolphins.”

They both walk for a little while without talking—transmitting some of their own silent messages.

“We should probably get back,” says Lexi, admitting to herself that this is exactly the opposite of what she would really like to do.

“Probably,” says George, as they turn around. “Although there are still lots of animals we haven’t talked about yet.” Lexi loves his quirky sense of humor. How easily he makes her laugh without even trying.

George wants to kiss her. He should just kiss her. Here. Now. Or else he might never find the moment again. Why do the bloody films make it look so easy?

“Thanks for the fresh air,” says Lexi, needing to savor the sweetness between them. Knowing that anything more is surely unfathomable.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling now?”

“Better.”

They are almost back at the studio entrance—a nondescript black door with no indication of what lies behind.

George takes a deep breath.
This is it, do it! Don’t talk, just lean forward and kiss her.

They both stop in the street and Lexi looks up at George. He has grown a beard since the last time she saw him and his hair is a bit longer. He looks like a nervous teenager, not a famous rock star.

I’m doing it right now,
he tells himself.

Get back inside,
she tells herself.

He pitches forward slightly.

She tilts her chin.

Don’t kiss me
, she thinks.
Please kiss me
, she thinks.

The space between them momentarily closes and their lips are on the verge of touching, when the door flies open.

They both jump backwards. Quickly.

Gabe and Russell are standing in the doorway.

“We were just checking up on the situation,” says Gabe, looking quizzically at George, who has started to cough.

“Are you okay, Lexi? Or am I asking the wrong person?”

Lexi pats George on the back. “
I’m
okay but I think George might be choking on his gum. He was just showing me some of the sights of Camden town.”

George holds up his hand. “I’ll survive,” he says, darting back into the studio. He can’t believe he’s fucked that up. Fate has been so good to him, delivering Lexi into his eye line on three different occasions, and now he can’t even manage to kiss her.

Lexi composes herself and smiles at Gabe and Russell.

“Making progress?” she asks, trying to sound interested.

“Lots,” says Russell, “why don’t we fill you in?”

They all head back indoors.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God
. Lexi’s whole body is churning up with desire and confusion. She wants to giggle and cry at the same time. She attempts to steady her thoughts and her heart, both swirling around in ecstatic, jet-lagged euphoria, while a bossy voice inside of her begins to transmit loud and clear,
Hello missy! He’s
not
a happiness option. He’s a famous singer, who lives across the world from you, dating a slutty pop idol. Get with the program, honey.
Lexi knows this is true but somewhere in the background she can hear another voice. A relaxed, chilled out voice. The voice of a girl sitting cross-legged in the grass, threading a daisy chain.
Or write a new program
, this girl says, pulling one delicate green stalk carefully through another.
He’s completely lovely
.
It’s all up to you…

GEORGE
16
^th
February, 2010
Maida Vale, London

Somehow The Brit Awards seem to have receded into the background overshadowed by Lexi landing, but George wakes up knowing today is the day. This is the third year they have been nominated. The first year they were up, they won ‘British breakthrough act’ and the second year they won ‘British single’. Tonight there’s a chance they might get the album award. The band are performing “Under the Radar” and George has calculated that despite yesterday going horribly awry, Lexi is in London for the next forty-eight hours and he’ll be sure not to miss another opportunity. Surely she’d be inclined to kiss him after seeing him perform in front of thousands of people? He needs to stop thinking and start acting.

After they went back inside yesterday to continue the meeting, he had caught Lexi’s eye a couple of times. She didn’t look away immediately. That had to be a good sign. He shook her hand when they all said goodbye. He made sure to not let go too soon. Gabe had scheduled a magazine interview that afternoon and then there was a dinner with a new producer they were considering using for the latest album.

The journalist from
NME
was a pretty Asian girl with a Scottish accent.

Halfway through the interview she asked, “You’ve been linked recently to Fanny Arundel. You’re both making a big impact internationally. Do you think you might ever perform together?”