Tracks (Rock Bottom) (15 page)

He looks down and laughs.
“Heat rash. I get it often. Especially after a show-with the lights and sweating and stuff.”

He looks back up into my face and grabs my chin, pulling my lips
to his and kissing me sweetly.

Our lips break apart, and I look to the floor, almost sad.
“What?” Jeremy asks me softly.

“You didn’t drink because…because you were bored with me or anything, did you?”
I cross my arms over my chest. Maybe last night wasn’t as good for him as it was for me. I was extremely out of practice, and he was more experienced sexually…

He places
his finger under my chin, lifting my face so I can see his blue eyes.

“Dylan, last night…”
he begins, and pauses. I see him warring with himself in his eyes. I hold my breath, bracing for the harsh words I am worried are coming. “Last night was amazing. Don’t do that to yourself, okay? I…God…” he stops himself again. He smiles at me, and I smile back at him.

After he cleans up the bottles on his floor, we grab some coffee in the kitchen. I tell him about the job Theresa and I managed to get, and he talks about his upcoming tour schedule. It sounds like a long tour, and he rarely has time off. I try to sound excited, but really I’m sad and scared at the thou
ght of him leaving in just under two weeks.

When I look at the clock on the wall above his small kitchen table
, I realize it’s almost noon. “Wow,” I say. “You better start getting ready for your last show tonight.” I stand up from where I’m sitting and stretch. My body feels deliciously sore.

Jeremy
smiles. “At least I’ll have a few days off before I leave.” I attempt a smile. He leans against the refrigerator, twirling his empty coffee cup. “I’ll have Rich take you home,” he says, almost sad.

I stare at him for a moment. His fingers are long and graceful, even with his arms being so muscular. His neck
curves up to his chin, his cheekbones sculpted. His hair is messy this morning, but it looks like it was done professionally that way. I notice his blue eyes meet mine. He stands uncomfortably. “What?” he asks, noticing my scrutiny.

“You’re hot,” I blurt out. I bite my lip and shake my head at myself. Now I feel really stupid. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo
.

Luckily, he begins to laugh uncontrollably. I let out a shaky laugh, too, and hear a ding at the elevator door. He composes himself enough to walk out of the kitchen and
step in front of the door before it opens and Rich walks out. I follow behind him. “Hey,” Jeremy says, slapping Rich on the shoulder.

“Nice dress,” Rich says, nodding at me. I suddenly remember I’m wearing a
t-shirt, which is thankfully long, and run down the hallway into the bedroom. I hear Rich and Jeremy laugh together.

My
cheeks burn as I take off the t-shirt and throw the gold dress back on. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I walk out and huff as I turn towards Jeremy, still laughing, so he can zip the dress. “I’m glad I amuse you,” I say.

When Jeremy finishes zipping the dress, he grabs the tops of my shoulder
s and turns me around to look at him. Rich turns towards the elevator door and steps in, holding the button so the doors remain open.

“You’ll be at the sho
w tonight,” Jeremy commands. I nod.

“I’ll see you then,” he says, kissing me sweetly on the lips. He puts his lips to my ear. “Last night was amazing, and I have more things
I want to do to you.”

My insides tighten. He releases me and I turn to walk into the elevator. Rich turns the key to go down, and the door shuts, leaving Jere
my standing in his living room.

Rich and I ride down the elevator silently. I feel the elevator stop and the gold door dings as it opens. Rich steps out of the elevator and holds his hand in front of the door so I could safely step out. He turns and walks side by side with me.
              When we reach the main door across the lobby, I don’t notice a doorman standing by it, which is strange. Rich opens the door and motions for me to walk out.

When I step onto the pavement, I’m m
et with 20-30 people storming up to me. They circle me and snap pictures. I quickly put my hands up to my face and freeze. My heart beat rises.

“
Dylan, was this the first time you’ve spent the night with Jeremy?” a woman says, throwing a silver recorder towards my mouth. I smack at it and then move my hands back to my face.

“
Dylan, how was he?” a man with a video camera taunts. I’m getting pushed and pulled. My heels almost make me fall over.

“Leave me
alone!” I shriek. “No comment!”

I feel claustrophobic, trapped in this sea of people. They surround me; I feel them everywhere. I start to shake, and I’m terrified. Dear God, just get me out of thi
s!

I feel big hands grab my arm and Rich say “Let’s go!”

He starts pulling me ahead quickly and suddenly pauses a minute later. I hear the click of a car door opening and he throws me inside and shuts the door. I lock it immediately as Rich climbs in the driver’s side. The photographers still click their cameras at me through the window.

Instead of shock or sadness, I’m angry. “Is this what I’m supposed to expect?!” I scream towards Rich as he begins to pull away. The photographers scramble to move out of the way. “This is fucking ridiculous. I’m so over
this! Where were your guards?!”

We’re passing the lake and getting onto a main street. I don’t see anyone following us when I look out of
the back window. “I’m sorry Miss Dylan,” Rich says, flipping on his turn signal. “They really usually leave Jeremy alone at his apartment. I guess you’re causing a lot of news.”

“How d
id they even know I was there?”

I see Rich shrug. “I don’t know.
Probably paid someone off. I didn’t see the doorman there.”

I sigh. “Well you can tell Jeremy that I’m not going anywhere anymore unless those reporters can be handled. I’m not just goi
ng to take this god damned harassment!” I’m so mad, I can’t control myself. The burning in my stomach feels like a volcano erupted.

“I understand Miss
Dylan. No problem.” The car stops in front of my house which, luckily, has no reporters in sight. I step out onto the pavement and slam the door behind me without even saying goodbye. I kind of feel like a jerk but I’m so angry and embarrassed. I run up my steps and into my house.

I shut and lock the door behind me.
I kick my heels off at the doorway and walk down the hall. Even though it’s already 1:00, I put on a pot of coffee in the kitchen. I hear footsteps coming down the hallway.

Theresa is smiling at me, her brown curly hair pulled up into a messy up-do. She has on casual jeans and a purple fitted tee. I smile at her and she walks over to me and gives me an excited hug.
My anger at the reporters starts to fade.

“How was it?” she inquir
es.

I sigh.
“Everything.”

She giggles and pulls away from me.
“Oh God, I hate you.” I laugh.

She plops down on our couch and turns on the T.V. I head over to the coffee machine and pour us two glasses. “How was your date?” I inquire. I pick up the mugs and begi
n to walk into the living room.

“Great,” she says, extending her hand to reach for her cup. I sit down on the other side of the couch. “I j
ust got home not too long ago.”

I laugh.
“So is that it for him, then?”

She sighs. “No. I really like him actually.
We’re going out again tonight.”

I inhale
in shock. “I know,” she says.

“When can I meet…
er…” I’m embarrassed that I don’t know his name.

“Sean,” she says. “Soon I guess. Not tonight though. I know
Jeremy is leaving town soon. You have to work in as much time as possible before he leaves you.”

Her words make it feel like the air is punched out of my chest.
I feel the color run from my face.

“Wow, Dylan. What’s wrong?” Theresa says, sitting up more on the couch. “I didn’t really mean it that way, but
honey, you have to accept it could be a possibility.”

“I
think I’m falling in love him.” I blurt out.

My mouth hangs open, astonished at my own words. Theresa freezes and her brown eyes get larger. The wor
ds hang out in silence eerily.

‘
There’, I think. I said it. There it is. There’s my ticket to heart break. How could I be so stupid? How could I let this happen?

Suddenly, I faintly hear the T.V. saying something about Jeremy. I turn my eyes towards the screen and see a news reporter, no older than me with pink hair, talking with a picture of Jeremy in the background. Theresa turns up the volume.

“…footage of new girl toy Dylan leaving his house in the same outfit she wore the night before.” A video of me smacking the silver recorder outside of Jeremy’s apartment is shown. The video lasts about 20 seconds, until Rich comes and grabs me and they show me getting into the car.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

Theresa turns the T.V. off. I stand up angrily and march into the kitchen. I put my coffee cup down on the counter and stand there, leaning against it, facing away from Theresa.

It’s not like this is embarrassing enough for me, dating a rock star. It’s not like I don’t know I’m not anything special and he is. Why does the whole world have to know? Why do I hav
e to be broadcasted everywhere?

“You’re in a heap load of shit, Dy
lan,” Theresa finally whispers.

“Yea
h, thanks,” I snap.

“Keeping it real!” she sa
ys happily. I try not to smile.

Suddenly I hear the phone ring. I walk over to it and look at the caller-ID. I recognize my Dad’s phone number. I sigh, wondering if I should bother to pick up the phone. I click the answer button, and put it up to my ear.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, button,” my Dad’s warm voice answe
rs. I smile. “How’s the place?”

“It’s great Da
d. It’s all set up.”

“Uh, huh,” he says. I know my Dad really isn’t interested in stuff like that, but I appreciate the effort.
“Are you preparing for school?”

“Uh, yeah,” I lie. I haven’t even thought about school the last couple of days. “I got a job a
t the bookstore.”

My Dad sighs. “Dylan, I wish you would take me up on my offer and hold off working for a while. You know I think it’s better for you
to just concentrate on school.”

I roll my eyes. “I know Dad. But I’m going to have a huge amount of loans to pay off from Harvard and you know I like being independent.”

“Speaking of concentrating on school…” my Dad clears his throat.

Uh oh.
Here it comes.

“I don’t know…” he pauses and sighs. I cringe. “I don’t know how much I like seeing my daughter on the news leaving a
man’s
house.” He sarcastically emphasizes the word
man
, to indicate he knows exactly who this man is, and his history.

Ewe.
Please not with my Dad. Please!

“Then don’t watch the news,” I snap. I’m so embarrassed now that I just want to
crawl under a rock.

“Dylan, don’t get defensive.
I know you’re an adult. I’m just worried about you and your schooling. You worked so hard to get to Harvard.” Usually my Dad’s warm, soft voice calms my anger, but not this time. I’m just over defending my relationship, especially since the relationship will probably end in less than 24 hours.

“I’m
not
defensive. It’s just, what do you want me to do? Every girl my age dates. Or is married. I happen to date Jeremy Mason. I have reporters following me. I don’t
want
them to follow me, but I can’t do anything about it. And I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’m going to be virginal out here. I’m 22 years old for Christ’s sake.”

“Dylan,” my Dad says, trying to stop me. But now I’m on a roll. Theresa stands across from me, eyes wide and hands held up with her palms facing toward
s me, as if telling me to stop.

“We all know how much
you
like sex.
And don’t even get me started on how much
MOM
liked sex. And
I’m
not screwing the entire student body, or two different married men. Just
one
guy!” I scream

Theresa puts her hand to her mouth. My Dad is silent. For a split second I’m pleased with myself.
That shut him up. But then, quickly, I feel like a jerk. He was only concerned for me, in the same ways I’m concerned for myself. I sigh.

“Dylan,” he starts. Then he sighs. “Just prove me wrong when school starts. Get good grades. I’ll talk t
o you later.” His voice is sad.