The One I Love

Blurb

Music might bring them together but their high school memories will try to tear them apart!

I thought I would put my high school heartbreaks out of mind.

But then, he comes back into my life

He’s gotten much HOTTER with the years

Those gorgeous green eyes and that crooked smile makes me so WILD…

And this time he wants me to take a big risk!

And guess what?

He says “I’m the only one he LOVES!”

Chapter One: Ada

My hands are shaking and there are no pockets on the dress I chose to wear. Hiding them isn’t an option so I clench them tightly behind my back. I’m aware my teeth are also chattering. How can I be this nervous? I look around for the cardigan I had on earlier. I can put my hands in those pockets. I can also pull the cardigan over my head and run away. Running away seems like a splendid idea right about now. What have I gotten myself into? The fear in the pit of my stomach has me on the verge of losing everything I ate all day.

“You’re almost up,” Lila Carnes says to me. She’s my friend and fellow teacher at Salmon Ridge High.  Lila is the complete opposite of me. Her confidence can be felt across a room. She is bosomy and loves wearing outfits that show her assets.

When I mean assets, let’s be real I mean her boobs are very present and her bottoms hug her ass. It always seems she has the perfect amount of makeup on and her hair is never plagued by fly-aways like mine. It’s a gorgeous chestnut brown naturally. My frizz puff is that dull looking brown you see on cartoon drawings. If it is even the slightest bit humid outside, I might as well try to forget about leaving my house. It’s kind of ridiculous and seriously unfair.

Some girls have all the luck, I guess. I’m trying to focus on this instead of my stomach at the moment. I’m focusing on anything but what’s about to happen. Lila knows me the best, but she doesn’t realize I'm not doing so hot.

She's always so encouraging but my face alone should give it away. I'm not ready. I make note where the restrooms are in the gym in case I need to go hide in a stall instead of going on stage. I feel like I should be giving the visual message this is a mistake, but Lila keeps encouraging me like she always does.

“You ready?” Lila is really close to my face. I didn’t even notice she’d moved closer. She smells like roses and honey. I bet I smell like sweat and fear. She throws an arm around me encouragingly.

No. No, I’m not ready. Not even remotely ready. What was I thinking? I’m gonna upchuck all over the stage. Then it’s going to be all over YouTube, and it’ll get a million hits and then . . . I suck in a deep breath because my mental rambling is about to make me turn around and make tracks to the door.

Somehow, I manage a nod, though I’m not really sure how. My entire body is as stiff as a board. How I let myself be coerced into singing at the charity concert by my students is beyond me. Despite teaching them to sing on a daily basis, I myself am terrified of performing in front of people. I take that back, I can sing in front of ten to twelve students because I’m teaching them, but this. This is singing in front of my peers, in front of my student’s parents, in front of principal Stevens! That thought alone causes me to almost faint. It shouldn’t be this bad because I’ve done this time and time again. This was my life and it was so a part of my routine I shouldn’t be feeling this way. But some things never change.

Gulp!

I look out on the stage and I’m suddenly transferred back to fourth grade. Mrs. Rosenbaum has started playing my song for the second time and I’m standing completely still on the stage forgetting all the words. I tell myself, don’t pee, do not pee. I’m so scared of singing I just run away. To make things worse, I trip on the way off the stage and catch the sounds of laughter as I flee the scene. I can remember my eyes closed tightly knowing how much the kids were going to tease me on Monday. As if running off the stage as fast as possible wasn’t bad enough. After tripping, my dress flew above my head and revealed my My Little Pony panties to everyone. Being the laughing stock of the school is something you never get over. Hearing the laughter for the several weeks after the fact was going to be so much worse. A girl in my class had tripped on the first day of school and busted a tooth out. She was made fun of for the whole year. They called her Snaggle. I didn’t want a strange nickname that would follow me all through school.

My mother couldn’t find me because I hid underneath the stairs of my grade school for a whole hour. I heard everyone leaving the talent show and imagined them laughing at me, and why wouldn’t they laugh at me?  I would have laughed at me had I not been too busy being humiliated. My mother was frantic when she didn’t find me, she thought I’d left the school and was wandering around in the dark.

The next day I wouldn’t let her take me to school. I could only imagine what my classmates were saying about me. I just couldn’t deal, so like a big chicken, I stayed at home. My mother stayed mad at me for a whole week refusing to talk to me at the dinner table. My father would have to relay any messages from her to me even though I could hear her clearly. Looking back my mother could be a bit immature at times.

I wanted to stay home for more than one day. I begged and pleaded with my mother to stay home for a week but she refused. She said that I deserved it. Not in so many words, but she was never a nurturing person. One day was enough to recover in her eyes. My dad wouldn't even listen to me when I tried to appeal to him. He would never go against her opinion and gave me the dumbest advice. Just laugh with them. Returning to school, the kids still joked and I tried to laugh along with them. They didn’t forget.

Chapter Two: Ada

“Here, take some of this.” Lila pushes a small silver flask under my nose. I shake my head quickly. For one reason, I feel like I might throw up. For another reason, we are still at work even if it’s after hours. It wouldn’t do for someone to say the music teacher was getting liquored up backstage at a charity concert. Wouldn’t those headlines be just fantastic? I can see them now. Local teacher pukes on stage because she was too drunk to perform for charity. Yes, wouldn’t that just be awesome, not to mention the perfect example for the very students I was trying to teach. This should be a breeze.

I tell myself I’m no longer a scared fourth grader and a grown confident woman. If I just keep telling myself to breathe I should be okay. I just need to forget the lights and forget all the eyes looking at me. This is probably the worst pep talk one can give themselves.

When she doesn’t move the flask, I’m tempted to take a sip just for the heck of it. But I don’t.

“No, I’ll be ok,” I tell her and stand at the edge of the curtain to look around. It doesn’t seem so bad from this angle noticing a ton of the audience on their phones not paying full attention. See? I only have to please some of the people. Like the important ones. I laugh to myself, yeah that makes sense.

The guy on stage is doing an elaborate beatbox and dance routine. He’s really into it and clearly not the least bit nervous. I recognize him as one of my former students who always had a quiet nature. If he can do it, I can as well. That’s at least what I tell myself. He’s just a student, I’m these students mentor, why is this giving me the worst anxiety? How did I ever become a teacher? Before I jump down a crippling rabbit hole of self-doubt I try to shake it off.

As the student on stage wraps up with an impossible spin on his head the crowd erupts into applause and I’m reminded how many people are actually in the audience. What if they don’t like my singing? What if the only thing I hear is crickets? You know, like all those horrific incidents on various television shows? The noise creeps into my head and my neck starts to sweat. I’m pretty sure this was a mistake. I’m pretty sure I can’t do this. The voices of all the children of my elementary school laughing invade my brain. I can hear them. I can feel them deep in my soul. All their faces crystal clear floating around my brain taunting me to sit back down, taunting me to grab that flask! Anything than what’s about to happen.

Lila is standing right behind me as I start to back up. The brakes are screeching and I’m two seconds from backing out. It’s not worth it. I shake my head but she puts her hands on both my arms. I hear the principal come back out onto the stage and say some complimentary things about the guy before me. Then it hits me again and reminds me the true meaning of why I’m doing this. It’s a charity. This is worth it. I can do this. There my pep talk got a little better.

“Now a treat for everyone. Our own lovely music teacher, Ada Springfield is going to blow us all away.”

Why did he have to hype it up so much? I don’t know that I can even open my mouth. What if I just open my mouth and nothing comes out? What if my pitch is completely off key? The list of what could go wrong keeps playing in my head. The thunderous applause happens again and the little backstage area sways a bit. If I pass out at least I don’t have to go out onto the stage. But then I’d still get made fun of. Either way is a losing situation for me.

Lila shoves me forward like a good friend and before I know it I’m taking small steps towards the microphone in the middle of the stage. I seriously have to get my neurosis under control. I’m going to drive myself insane if I don’t.

One step in front of the other. Careful. Watch the chords. Oops, phew, that one almost got me. Careful now Ada. You’ve got this. Don’t fall. Your dress flying over your head to reveal your sensible cotton panties would be far worse as an adult than it would be as a fourth-grader.

I don’t look at the audience who are now cheering for me. The students are so encouraging. They are the only reason I agreed to sing and the only reason I thought I could actually do it. Now I’m on my way to sing and it feels like my legs are made of lead. I continue to move one foot in front of the other as I try not to think of how silly I must look. What are they thinking?

Slowly I make my way behind the microphone and still keep my eyes from looking out at the crowd. I focus my gaze somewhere at the back of the auditorium. It is a typical performer move for anyone that’s nervous and my students know this. I teach them that move so they are going to know I’m nervous but at this point, I don’t care. It’s all I’m going to do to be able to finish this. It’s dark back there, and I pretend that if I can’t see them, they can’t see me. However, I swear I hear the English teachers laughing at me. Their older deep laughter replaces the children laughing in my head. I’m probably imagining it. I’ve gotten inside my own brain which is never any good.

The English teachers are like the mean girls of the teaching community at Salmon Ridge. I can’t focus on their opinions of me right now. If I do, I’ll simply freeze. The music for my song comes on and I forget the words. I miss my cue and I can feel all their eyes on me. Heat races up my neck and settles in my cheeks. My face is flaming red and possibly going numb. The sweat building up on my hands makes the microphone slippery as I quickly run my hands down my dress to get the wet feeling away and now they’re just clammy. My face on fire gives me a sure sign that it is beet red and my makeup will no longer be doing me any justice. It’s just like fourth grade all over again, I catch myself saying do not pee in my head.  I do the only thing that makes sense to me, I turn to the side of the stage. I make sure to take the microphone with me miraculously not making that horrible screeching noise everyone hates.

I glance back and notice Lila looking at me making circular motions with her hand for me to continue and smiling her biggest cheesy smile. Somehow that gives me the slightest bit of hope and I focus. Taking a deep breath and letting it out.

There is a hush and by some miracle, the stagehand knows to start my music over. This is it. It’s now or never. If I miss this cue again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it. I listen to the flow of music, the ebb and flow of the melody, and then, here it comes it’s time for me to sing. I take a deep breath and it’s a miracle sound that comes out and I am singing. However, I am still facing the side of the stage where I can see no one. It’s utterly ridiculous, but hey, don’t judge me. It’s all about taking small steps. It’s one or the other. There is no in between when it comes to having stage fright. It’s serious business. The words come back to me and flow from my lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. I hope the students are at least happy I’m singing. I won’t look to find out.

I wrap my clammy hands around the microphone and the words carry me away. Everything melts away. As the melody builds in my chest and flows free, I pretend I’m in my shower. Everything finally clicks into place and all the students respond with wild cheers, applause, and whistles.  Their reactions encourage me further. This is my moment and now everyone knows how I sound and from the response, it must not be that bad. It’s erasing some of the anxiety and I almost smile as I sing a song that means a lot to me.

Still, I can’t bring myself to turn towards the crowd. I tell myself at least I’m doing it, so what if I’m not facing them. They can still see me. So, I’ll just sing to the people on the side stage. They’re part of the crowd too, right? Maybe crowd adjacent?

There’s an instrumental break in the song and I sort of sway, but it's awkward. I need to turn and face the crowd. It’s a must. Ready? Here I go. Willing myself to turn, I rationalize that if I can sing in front of a classroom, I can do this. It’s not different. Slowly I turn and without missing a beat, the notes flow perfectly from my lips.

I can feel the flow of the music through me. It’s pumping through my veins giving me the courage I need to do this. Adrenaline urges me further. I’m soaring now, this is what I was meant to do. For just a few minutes I’m invincible, and the world is my stage. I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling of the gym. I’m afraid if I allow myself to see the crowd I’ll lose whatever confidence I’ve somehow found. There’s a basketball stuck up in the big white pipes. It gives me something to sing to, something to focus on. Hey, don’t judge. If Tom Hanks can talk to a volleyball, then I can sing to a basketball. So, I belt out the lyrics perfectly. The bridge is coming up and it’s particularly tricky, testing my vocal range like nothing before.

Deep breath and here I go . . .

I nailed it. Maybe. At least I think I did. The song comes to an end, and I just stand there, wishing once more I had pockets to cram my hands into. Now that the song is over, the nerves decide to make another appearance. What do I look at now?

I can’t possibly look at a silent crowd. I don’t know where to look so I glance over to Lila who has a grin plastered on her lips. She probably hasn’t stopped smiling. I hold my breath, waiting to see if I’ve flopped or the crowd is happy. It’s completely silent. I swear I can hear crickets. Did I just hear someone cough? Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Do they not know the song is over? The silence is the scariest thing I’ve faced and it seems to go on forever.

Finally, someone claps and then others join in. One by one I watch as people climb to their feet. The applause gets louder, and I can feel it vibrating the stage beneath my feet. That’s for me. They are all clapping and cheering for me.  I did it. I take a chance and drop my eyes and see everyone still standing and clapping. Even the English teachers sitting right in front are clapping for me. I manage to smile. They’re actually standing up for me.

I feel a sort of high that outweighs the fear. I bow slightly, smile, and rush off the stage into Lila’s arms. It’s a mix of nausea and adrenaline rushing through me that causes me to allow her to support my weight and guide me into a chair.

I’m in between riding a high and sweating with nerves. My whole body feels like Jell-O and my head sort of throbs with the dizziness of panic that had been threatening me on stage. Now I can feel everything all at once and will myself not to throw up. Wouldn’t that just be awesome? Puking after the fact. Well, I guess it’s better than doing it while on stage. I’ll take it as a win.

Chapter Three: Charlie

I watch as Thomas Mason scans the crowd of high school punks around me. My agent is looking for talent, and not in a sexual way. I’m not his only talent, but I’m the only one who is actually booking gigs at the moment. He’s a younger guy, only six years older than me. At thirty he prides himself on still having all his hair and an ability to pull tail. That’s what he characterizes as a successful look.

“Models can be discovered just going about their business,” he says to me, “models that bring me my big break.”

“I thought I was going to bring you your big break,” I say a little hurt but mostly frustrated we are here.

“You will too if you can find someone to sing with you.”

“I told you, Thomas. I’m a solo act. What’s not to love?” I turn around in a slow circle with my arms outstretched earning me an eye roll.

“You are a rich kid using daddy’s money to play Guitar Hero on the weekend. You need someone to make you relevant. You need a rag to riches storyline. You’re never going to get that so we have to combine you with someone else. Besides duets are all the rage right now.”

“I don’t even play video games,” I mumble to him. I swear the man is such a dick sometimes. Well, it’s nothing that I haven’t been called before, so I shrug it off.

“You know what I mean.” He straightens his tie and buttons up his suit jacket. Thomas’ thing is to wear the most ridiculous ties he can find. This one has kittens on it playing with little planets. Where does one even get such a tie? Did he get it for a buck fifty at Goodwill? I’m about to ask him, but he opens his mouth before I get a chance.

“You think some high school kid singing with me is going to look right to the world? I’m twenty-four years old and devilishly handsome.” I grin.

“We aren’t here to see a high school kid Charlie, we’re here to see an adult.” Okay, an adult. I’m still not overly happy about the idea. The last thing I need is to have to carry someone else while I’m performing. Besides, I don’t really like sharing the spotlight. Call me a jerk, but hey, it is what it is.

The kid on stage finishes up his long set of beat boxing and break dancing with a spin move and then they introduce the next act.

“This is her.” Thomas grabs my arm and points as a petite brunette woman in a bright purple dress trips onto the stage. I had missed her name during my complaining.

I tilt my head trying to get a better idea of what she looks like since Thomas and I were late and currently stand on the wall at the back of the gymnasium the charity concert is being held in.

“What’s she doing?” I ask as the woman stands completely still. Her song has already started and I’m pretty sure she missed the intro.

“I don’t know,” Thomas says putting a fist under his chin and leaning on the wall.

I watch as the woman turns around and faces the side of the stage. If this is the woman he thinks can sing with me, he’s been drinking. She looks like she’s afraid of her shadow. Hell, I bet if someone shouted boo she’d likely faint. That’s so not what I am looking for. If I were looking. Which I’m not.

“Dude, there’s a totally hot chick named Savannah who wanted me to swing by her bar later. I got some decent drugs, and they aren’t going to do themselves.” I tell Thomas. Hey, don’t judge. We all have our vices and standing here listening to a high school, grade school, or whatever the hell kind of show this is, is making me wish I was drunk or stoned. Hell, at this point, I’d take both.

She starts to sing. My head whips around as the first words and notes tumble from her mouth, and I’m speechless. In spite of the fact she’s facing the side wall, it doesn’t take away from her voice. For a moment I forget what I was saying. I am sucked in by her haunting melody. She’s chosen a good one from the seventies about hope and loss. It makes me think she knows good music at least. After she makes it through the first chorus and there’s a break she turns.

Despite being a distance away I can almost see the thought process going on in her head as she wills herself to face forward. The result is the beautiful voice projected out into the audience. Everyone cheers for her encouragingly and find myself joining in. If she can get past whatever strange stage fright she has, she might be good for me.

I do have a nagging voice telling me I’m a solo act, I can’t have a partner, but her voice is drowning it out a bit. She hits some surprising notes and I feel the hair on my arms stand up. The song finishes and everyone’s quiet just for a few seconds before bursting into applause. I feel strange like I’ve just witnessed something incredible.

I tell myself that’s silly in a high school gymnasium, but even as she leaves the stage I still have the chills.

“Come on, Lila will be telling her we’re coming about now. Let’s catch her before she runs off.” Thomas says moving forward.

“She didn’t even know we were here?” I ask thinking that seems almost cruel.

“No, it’s fine. Lila knew she’d be nervous, so she said she’d handle it.”

Lila is the woman Thomas has been seeing. I think it’s getting pretty serious. They’ve been together for a little over six months. I don’t keep up with their relationship but I just heard her mention it the last time we had dinner.

I think over my short career as a musician as we walk up to the stage. I’d loved to sing and play guitar in high school. I was all about talent shows and charity concerts. Dad hadn’t come into money until my junior year when he inherited the company from his father. It was a complete change for my whole family. I hadn’t always been the spoiled kid everyone thought I was when I attended this high school.

I liked to think that was the rag to riches story Thomas was looking for, but he didn’t seem to think it would be enough.

Lately, I’ve been playing whenever someone wants me to. I can afford to pay Thomas even though my gigs make pennies because I have the money. It probably isn’t the picture of a starving artist he’d been looking for, but he’s sticking with me. I feel like he must believe in my music enough to push for me to move forward so I trust him with this whole singing partner thing.

It is going to be an adjustment, but I think I can do it. Being in the high school takes me back. I had performed on that very stage. Now it seems like that was decades ago. I look around at all the students as they go up to the stage to congratulate their fellow students and teachers. All the stereotypes are still represented, just in a different era.

I think back to when I was in high school and try to remember what my plans were then. I’d always wanted to sing, and my father had wanted me to work for him. It is part of the reason we aren’t close. He doesn’t think I’m taking advantage of the opportunities I’ve been offered. I don’t think he supports me no matter what I do.

We may both be right, but we’re both certainly stubborn.

Chapter Four: Ada

Lila bends down to where I’m seated, pulls me into her chest, and wraps her arms around me. “You did so well.”

“Really, I literally sang to the side of the stage.” I look up so I’m not smothered by her sizable rack.

“Only for a couple bars,” she lets me go and swats her hand like it was no big deal.

My breathing starts to speed up again. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Don’t have a post-panic attack, it’s over,” Lila says noticing my anxiety.

“Okay you’re right, I just need to breathe a bit.”

“The offer is still good on that flask,” Lila says winking at me.

“Thank you for being here. I am so happy to have such a good friend on my side.”

Lila suddenly shifts nervously from one foot to the other. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and looks at me.

I frown, feeling anxiety beginning to creep into my body.

“Now, don’t be mad,” Lila says and moves slowly away from me.

My frown deepens, and there’s a heaviness in the pit of my stomach. “Why would I be mad? Lila? Liiiila?”

“Remember, I did it because I love you and I think you deserve a chance.”

“You did what?” I feel the panic rising up again.

“So, you know how I said I was seeing that talent agent? And you know how I said he had a client looking for a singing partner?”

“Lila, what did you do?” Okay, now I’m certain I’m going to be sick. I’m torn between wanting to punch her in the nose and wanting to puke on her shoes.

“They’re here, they heard you sing, and that’s them headed this way.”

I turn around and see a man in a full suit and a shaved head walking up to me. It isn’t the overdressed guy who catches my attention however, it’s the very familiar face walking up with him. I jump up from the chair knocking it over.

“Lila,” I say through clenched teeth. “Is the singer who I think it is?”

The suit man stops and gives Lila a hug. “Hi honey, gotta run.” In true Lila fashion, she takes off before I can glare at her.

"Hi Ada, I’m Thomas. Lila has told me so much about you.” He reaches out and shakes my hand, “Charlie, this is Ada Springfield. Ada this is Charlie.”

“Maxwell," I interrupt him.

"Oh, you know each other?" Thomas asks confused.

I look over and see the same confusion in Charlie’s eyes. Of course, he doesn’t remember.

“We’ve actually met,” I say with a lot more courage than I feel. “We dated, well you took me out a couple times and never called.”

“I did,” Charlie looks like I slapped him.

“Awkward,” Thomas says but stays there looking at us. I am suddenly aware that his tie has kittens on it and they’re cute but one is holding what looks like Jupiter in its mouth. It’s a weird picture for this strange moment.

“Addy?” Charlie says with a question in his voice.

I see something in his eyes like recognition and then he goes back to his cool devil may care ways. He looks around the room like he has somewhere to be. He still looks the same. His long brown hair styled so it sticks up in the front, his deep green eyes still gorgeous, and the little-crooked smile he has when he’s embarrassed or flattered. I shouldn’t be thinking of any of those things.

I should be thinking about how I waited for days for him to call me. I had gone out of my way trying to see him at school and he’d avoided me. It had been a week since our second date and I saw him at Denise Adam’s locker. She was a girl who’d dated pretty much everyone in her grade so she was moving on to mine. I didn’t stand a chance against a sophomore cheerleader who definitely put out.

“So, Miss Springfield, we have a proposition for you,” Thomas says. All I can see is the tie.

“Charlie needs a singing partner, he’s great as a solo act. We just think a partner will give him some more soul.”

“You mean bringing along a charity case will make him more appealing to a wider audience,” I say. I can’t help but be proud of myself. I know exactly what they’re trying to do.

I’ve shocked him. Thomas doesn’t know what to say. Good, put that in your pipe and smoke it douche bag.

“Ada, listen. I need someone with talent to be the other half of my thing. I need someone who can sing like you. I think you have true, raw, talent. I never knew you could sing like that.” Charlie says having the decency to look embarrassed.

“Well, had you taken the time to call or find out anything about me, then maybe you would have known.

He may not have known that I sang, but I noticed his talent. He sang or hummed all the time. I just preferred to keep my talents to myself back then. The choir was for losers. Man, I hated my high school self now. It was a miracle I actually pursued music after high school.

“I knew you did. I actually came to the talent show where you sang My Girl.” Why did I bring that up?

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that one.”

“This is a good opportunity, haven’t you always wondered if you could be a star?” Thomas asks me trying a different angle.

“I haven’t,” I say and that’s the truth. Up until today, I didn’t think I could sing outside of my classroom and my shower.

“So, are you going to try singing with me or what? I think it could be cool, or whatever.”

“Thank you for the offer Charlie, but no,” I tell him confidently and walk out into the seats where the students from my music class are waiting for me. One sweet boy named Mitchell hands me flowers.

“You were just wonderful Miss Springfield. The voice of an angel.”

“Now Mitchell. Let’s not over-exaggerate,” I say embarrassed. The kid has never had a bad thing to say about anyone.

I notice Charlie has followed me off stage. I wonder if I shocked him with my no.

“He’s not over-exaggerating Miss Springfield,” another girl Sarah, one of the brightest in my class, says.

“Thank you so much, everyone. It means a lot to me that you’re here, and that we’ve raised so much for the school and Everyone Sings, but I won’t be making it a habit.”

Everyone Sings is a wonderful charity and they help bring music into the lives of chronically ill and handicapped children. To be able to contribute to something that brings such joy is a good feeling.

I have raised money for them in one way or another each year but this year I turned it over to my students. They planned the charity concert, percentage nights at local restaurants and the silent auction going on during the concert. I am so proud of them and surprised with myself that I never thought to let it be a student project before. It definitely will be after this year.

“Yes, you will,” Charlie says as he comes towards me.

“No, I won’t.” I don’t like where this is going. I cross my arms over my chest and set my jaw. I plan on fighting him on this and standing up for myself. Especially, in front of my students.

Chapter Five: Charlie

Addy Springfield. She has grown up, but now that I was looking I could see the sweet little high school girl she had been. She looked the same, but different. Addy had glasses in high school and she'd dyed her hair a dark black. She tried to look grown up when we were teenagers but it actually made her look younger. We’d been an odd pairing from the beginning.

I'd been failing math and she was slated to tutor me. It was too much for me, she was already looking at me with puppy dog eyes after the second date when I kissed her. I couldn't ruin her so I just never called her again. It wasn't the manly thing to do, but I was sixteen, I was not a man. It was funny how all this is going through my head as I watch her walk away from me. 

I walk up to her students giving her praise. She's taking it with a flush to the cheeks. She looks even prettier. 

She tells them she isn’t going to sing in front of people again.

“I wouldn’t listen to her,” I say as I come to a stop beside her. “I bet she sings again real soon.”

Lots of teens with different colored hair and wide eyes look up at me. Some smile, some, not so much.

Addy snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” I am curious why she wants to waste such a beautiful voice.

"I'll never sing on stage again.”

“Again, I ask why not?”

She just gives me a wide-eyed look like I’m missing something obvious. If I’m being outrightly honest, it is kind of intimidating. I don't want to back down though so I keep a poker face. She shrugs and adds. “I’m a teacher, not a singer.” She turns her head from me as if that’s going to deter me from the conversation.

She has no idea I refuse to be dismissed like one of her students. She’s about to find out how convincing Charlie Maxwell can be.

“Couldn’t prove it from where I was standing. Don’t you agree, kids?” For a moment I forgot the little hormones are still listening.

Some of them answer, the others look like they really couldn’t care less. I’m not sure why I’m pushing it so hard and so fast, but I don’t give myself time to think about it. I’ve committed to the jump now I just need to stick the landing.

“What I did tonight was for a charity. It was a one-time thing. As in, not gonna happen again.” She is growing frustrated, and if I am serious with myself, I’m enjoying the banter back and forth. Blush is creeping into her cheeks and it is so damn adorable.

Her innocence is refreshing. I’m not used to people saying no to me, and a sick part of me likes it. The fact that I’m getting under her skin is a huge bonus.

I shove my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. “Who would have thought a teacher who sings in front of twenty students at a time would have stage fright in front of her peers?” Low blow but I don’t care. Her students glare at me letting me know that wasn't cool.

“Singing in class is vastly different. I am teaching, not entertaining. That was the last time I'll be center stage." She looks like she is resisting the urge to stomp her foot on the floor.

I flash her a wide smile. "No, it isn't," I took the opportunity to disagree with her. 

She’s giving me a look that says, tell them and I’ll kill you. Of course, I have to tell them. They were clearly the reason she sang tonight so they may be able to sway her decision. I’m not even really sure when I became okay with the decision to have her singing with me, but I have, so might as well go with it.

The students look at our bizarre exchange with interest. If it takes playing dirty to get her to sing with me, then I am all about getting dirty.

I turn up my biggest smile and lean forward, talking to just the kids. I put my hand up, pretending that Ada can’t hear me and whisper loudly. “The reason I’m disagreeing with her is because my agent wants us to sing together. Do you know what a record deal is?”

A loud huff comes from Ada, but I pretend I can’t hear her and continue my underhanded ways.

Some of the kids just stare while others nod like I’m an idiot. I decide to explain anyway. “You know the music you hear on radios and stuff like that? That’s what my agent wants your teacher to do.” I look up at Ada, and she is seething. I can just about see all the nasty thoughts she is thinking about me. I am already committed to the routine, why not go down with a bang?

“If she decides to sing with me she could become famous. How awesomely cool would that be?”

Loud cheers and claps go up from some of the kids as they excitedly urge her to become famous. However, some of them looked unsure.

I hope I don’t sound like a stuck-up asshole. Because classifying myself as a big deal makes me seem a lot surer of myself than I actually am.

The students are a mix of emotions. The small blonde girl who was praising her when I walked up is the first to speak.

“Miss Springfield doesn’t want to be famous, she likes teaching us and her quiet life.”

“Is that true Miss Springfield,” I ask, “Do you like your quiet life?”

“I think it will be so cool,” another boy says before she can answer. “You would be the only famous person I know besides my cousin Robbie. He got lost at the Mall of America for a whole day.”

Ada nods thoughtfully maybe I got to her through her students. I think I want this more for her to have a chance at success than I do. Maybe it will make up for my being an asshole to her in high school. That’s a little scary caring about what happens in her life so much after just a short time knowing her again.

“I just don’t think we’d be a good match, Mr. Maxwell,” she says stiffly. “I don’t know anything about show business and what if our voices don’t go well together?”

“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to give it a chance?” I ask her blocking her path as she’d been trying to inch her way to the edge of the chairs. I avoid laughing at her calling me Mr. because I can see she’s not in the mood for that.

Now the students are on my side a bit. They are saying perhaps she should try. I can see hope in all their faces and it kind of touches me how much they care about her. “You should do it, Ms. Springfield. You’re so awesome.”

“Yeah, Ms. Springfield.”

Ada just shakes her head, uncomfortable with all the attention her students are giving her. If she does decide to sign with us, then we are going to have to work on this whole demure and shy thing. I like the idea of breaking her out of her shell. Once she gets over her stage fright she will be spectacular. This could be a fabulous story, not just rags to riches. What's the one with the ugly duckling and the swan?

Seeing that I’m not getting as far as I’d like. I try a different approach. “Okay, how about this, let me take you out Monday night after work and we can just talk about it. That’s all we’ll do… just talk about it. You don’t have to make any kind of commitment. I just want you to listen to what I have to say. Hell . . . “

Ada does smirk now as she looks up at me. “You really should watch your mouth, Mr. Maxwell. You really should set a good example for young minds.”

If only she knew what I had been thinking about doing before the talent show. The drugs in my pocket weigh heavily against my thigh. Suddenly I'm aware of how bad it is that I have it at the high school.

I nod and do my best to look chastised. “I’m sorry, Ms. Springfield. But, what do you say? Does Monday night work for you?”

I watch as she mentally wages a war. If she agrees, it means she has to step out of her comfort zone and take a chance. If she declines, it means she will always wonder, what if. At least I imagine that’s what she’s thinking, she could be thinking of what she wants to eat for dinner for all I know. I’m not breathing as she considers her answer.

She reluctantly nods. “Okay, seven o’clock. Lila has my address so ask Thomas.”

I’m a little shocked she agreed but step out of her way so she can dash off behind the stage. “Alright,” I say more to myself than anything.

“You better not dick her over,” the guy who’d been so excited said. I look at his serious expression and can tell immediately, he means business.

“We’ll be watching you,” the little blonde points to her eyes and then mine. Who knew Ada had such a protective group of students. It was impressive that she could inspire such devotion.

“I’m not,” I argue and they all go out leaving me with my thoughts as Thomas comes back up to me.

“So, is she on board?” He is grinning ear to ear and reminds me a little bit of the Cheshire cat.

“We’re going out Monday night to talk about it. She’s not made a decision yet.”

To my utter shock and disbelief, I find myself anxious that I won’t be able to get her to sing with me. After our little battle, I feel almost desperate to get her to say yes. Maybe it goes back to not being used to being told no.

"Thomas, are you going to come tie one on?" I change the subject needing to get the thought of Ada possibly saying no off my mind.

"No, not tonight. I have a hot date with Lila."

“Your loss.” I wave at my agent and head to my truck.

The bar Savannah wants to meet at is called Rascals. It's not my usual hangout. I prefer bars with table service and expensive bar food so this will be different. Snob thing to say but I can’t change who I am. Up until my father and I had our falling out, he would take me to those places. The man enjoyed a good meal and a good scotch.

Nashville has a ton to offer and for every twelve country western bars you'll find an elegant club or upscale bar where those of us with money hang out. Savannah used to work at a nice one called Reds. After she missed work too many times, they canned her so now she works here in a much smaller, much more hole-in-the-wall place on the other side of town. So, I’m slumming it tonight.

One thing is the same across the board, the drugs. No matter where you go, you can find them. Hot little Savannah is a fan of coke so I brought a little to give to her. A little bump to keep us both going all night long. Well, for her, I’ll stick with my drug of choice, alcohol. A distraction from a music teacher who has taken over my thoughts.

I walk up to the front of Rascals. It's a typical dive bar with shady patrons standing outside smoking and a bouncer who doesn't want to be here. Saturday appears to be their busy night.

"ID?" The guy asks in a deep voice. I show it to him and he laughs.

"What's funny?" I ask confused a slither of unease snakes down my spine.

"Just watch your ass tonight rich boy," he says. Stepping to the side he lets me walk into a smoke-filled loud bar. A typical scene with people everywhere. The bar is small with a curved bar to the side complete with red leather stools. Most of the seats are taken with boisterous locals buzzed out of their minds, and alcohol clearly isn't the only thing they are buzzing on.

I walk up to the bar and find Savannah sitting there. She’s looking good in her bar uniform which consists of short shorts and a red t-shirt that’s cut off. It reads I’m a Rascal and there couldn’t be a better description of her.

“Hey, there sexy,” I tell her watching her brighten as she sees me. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing a slender neck. Her plump lips are the color of wine and I briefly imagine what they’d be like wrapped around my cock. Bright blue eyes sparkled back at me, and I can tell that she’s already had a hit of something.

“Charlie,” she squeals and leans over the bar to hug me. She smells like every man’s wet dream. The other patrons she’d been talking to give me a hateful look as she ignores them, and I send them a wink. Not surprisingly, there are only men at the bar and her tip jar is full.

“You have my stuff?” She asks, wiping down the bar and continuing to ignore the protest of the others. Her bottom lip pushes out as she pouts waiting for my answer. This is a girl who gets what she wants. I see a sad future for her if she doesn't stop this shit though. No good can come of drug use, leisurely or otherwise. I'm the one bringing it to her I think with a sting of conscience. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“Of course, I do. Why don’t you get me a Jack and Coke?” I whisper my index finger tracing the grain of the wood. “I’ll pay ya with a twenty in a bit,” I say with a flirty wink.

She gives me a nod and a brilliant white smile before flouncing off to get my drink. I take a moment to watch her walk away, admiring her tight ass as it nearly peeks out from beneath her shorts. My pants tighten as I imagine all the things I want to do to her later.

Next, I take a moment to look around the bar and see a group of guys in the corner staring at me. They range in age and are surrounding a table of older men. One of them looks really familiar to me, but I can’t quite place him. I give them a little nod and receive nothing back.

I turn back around to smile at Savannah and feel someone put their hand on my shoulder. I know it’s one of the guys from the table before I look. My shoulder tenses but I stay still waiting to see what he’s going to do.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here tonight, Maxwell.” He says and I push his hand away and stand up.

I’m not exactly known for having the most level head when confronted, but since hiring Thomas as my agent, I’ve really tried to work on the whole turning your other cheek thing. Most of the time. This guy can kiss my ass. I don’t even know who he is but I hate him already.

I try to keep my cool while at the same time sizing him up. Thomas would be proud of me. For how long is yet to be seen. He's the one who can speak rationally when his blood is boiling. If he were here, the situation might not be as dire.

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t know you.” I say as I look at him and the other three guys he’s brought up with him. The older men still sit at the table looking my way and I feel a bit threatened. I’m not one to back down though, even though I know this is not going to end well.

The man’s face is blotchy with anger. His ham-like fists are curled in at his sides. The threat in his eyes very real. He leans closer into my personal space. “Your father. He just thinks he can lay off people for no good reason. We’ve got families, we’ve got mortgages.” His breath reeks of whiskey and cigarettes.

I frown at him, trying to think of the best way to defuse the situation. There’s really not one so I do the best I can. The bouncer’s words making more sense. My father would screw up my night without even knowing it. “I don’t have anything to do with what my father does,” I sit back down at the bar. “Let me just enjoy my drink, and we can all just go about our lives.” If only this would work, but my day doesn’t seem to be going the way I want it to. In my experience people already itching for a fight will follow through, the testosterone has already taken over their whole body.

Savannah brings my drink over and looks concerned. “You okay here, honey?” she asks, her blue eyes darting from me then back to the men. I shake my head to tell her it’s fine. She scatters away and I hope she is getting help.

Rage tints the guy’s voice as he speaks. “No, we don’t have a life to go to anymore, thanks to your asshole father, and the best I can tell is that if we can’t enjoy our lives, neither can you. We’re going to send a message to your daddy about laying off people who’ve dedicated their lives to his company.”

Okay, things are about to get way out of hand. I toss back the rest of my drink and slide off my stool to face him. I guess I am a glutton for punishment because instead of just walking away, I open my mouth. “What message do you think you’re going to send using me, huh? I barely talk to him.” And as soon as I ask the question I know the answer and I know it’s going to hurt.

He smiles and punches me in the face hard knocking me completely backward. I knew he was spoiling for a fight, but damn, that was one hell of a punch. I don’t really have time to contemplate anything as I climb to my feet. I work my jaw back and forth, making sure it’s not broken and then take a swing, but I’m not quick enough. Two of the dude’s buddies have stepped forward and grabbed a hold of me, slinging me around trapping me for more punishment.

People are chanting around us most of them not on my side. Savannah screams for them to leave me alone, but it falls on deaf ears. I should have made her meet me when she got off work. I shouldn't go into bars without security guards I know and VIP sections that I can hide in.

Because I know I need to keep my mouth shut but often lack the ability, I pipe up. “If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask. You’re not my type but . . .” That’s as far as I get as they hold my arms back and the first guy pummels me again. This time he gets me in the eye. Stars explode around my vision as my neck is snapped back. Thomas is going to kick my ass when he sees my face. He’s scheduled for me to get new headshots this week and I’m sure he was not going for the ground meat look.

I’m getting pissed. Not just because this guy and his lackeys outnumber me, but because they have a valid reason to be pissed at my old man. However, that is not my fault. I’m sick of getting treated like an asshole because of my dickhead father. I’m enough of an asshole in my own life not to need any extra. I stiffen my spine and spit a stream of blood on the floor. “You’re a real big man, gotta fight with your cronies holding me back,” I smirk at him because there’s no way I’m backing down now. Even though this is my dad’s fight.

“He’s right. Let him go,” the guy is really amped up now. “I’ve wanted to hit this dickhead since high school.”

Great more of my past is coming back to haunt me. I wasn’t that big of a dick in high school that I remember. The other guys let me go and I put my hands up ready to defend myself.

“Nope, get the hell out of here now,” a large man is coming from the back of the bar. I assume he’s the owner or an angel. “Doug get in here and get these men out.”

The bouncer comes in and grabs me by my shirt. He laughs as he pulls me towards the door. “I told you to watch your ass, dumbass.”

“Well next time could you be more specific? “I spit out my jaw aching.

“Doug all these men have to go,” I hear the guy screaming at the bouncer behind me.

“He didn’t pay for his drink,” I hear Savannah screech as she points at me. Everyone stops for a fraction of a second to stare at her outburst. I’m the only one who knows what it was really about. She doesn’t care about that or me. She cares that she can’t get her fix if I don’t give her the twenty.

The bouncer pulls me away from the bar and we go by the table of older men and they still sit there just observing. One of the older gentlemen sitting around the table nods his head at me.

I hear Savannah screaming, “Let me go, Vince. He didn’t pay. Let me go get the money.”

He must be holding her back. I don’t care for coke, it’s not my drug of choice. I have no problem getting it for her anytime and letting her have it, and it is a fun time when we get high together. She needs to stop acting like a fool if she doesn’t get her shit together, however, they’re going to catch on. I will her to calm the hell down as the bouncer makes it outside with me.

“Those guys get to stay and drink?” I mutter as I rub my jaw.

“They’re regulars, rich boy, they come in all the time. You’re the outsider here. Whatever you were bringing the bartender, take it with you. She’s a nice girl, and I will call the cops.”

I snort when he says, nice girl. He has no idea how deep in the nose candy she is. The threat of the cops is what stops me from running my mouth. She has never gotten it from me before, and the guy I got it from told me he's seen her hanging around his dealer. She's no stranger to the scene or the high.

The older man from the table walks out into the parking lot. He's smoking a cigarette and flicks it at my feet as he walks towards me. I ignore this disrespectful gesture because I'm curious what he has to say.

"You'll have to forgive my boys. Especially Jimmy. They have a hard time controlling their temper when it comes to your dad."

"Well, I'm not my dad or his keeper. I certainly had nothing to do with you getting fired."
"That's the thing. My daughter isn't my keeper either but if someone did something to her I'd be hurt. It would feel personal, you feel me?"

"I doubt my dad would care, man. We aren't exactly close." I say that with the venom I feel for both my father and this man.

"It's all we got sport. Nothing personal." He lights another cigarette and smiles at me. He's probably in his later forties early fifties. He's taller than me with broad shoulders and salt and pepper hair. He wears a thick mustache and well-trimmed beard. He's still wearing a Maxwell work shirt, jeans, and boots.

"Dude just work this shit out with my father. I'm not involved."

"Watch your back, Charlie. We're coming for you."

He speaks very calmly but in a way that's unnerving. He walks back in the bar and the bouncer grins at me.

Man, I just want to get out of here. It will be a cold day in hell when I ever come back to Rascals.

I climb into my truck thankful for only having the one very weak mixed drink. I punch the accelerator aim my truck toward my house.

I do not need the police coming around, not with my career about to take off. Bad boy street cred is fine for getting in girl’s panties, it is not cool for a man trying to make it in the music business. The last thing I need is to get busted for possession with the intent to distribute. Not in Nashville, they crack down on shit like that. Maybe if I was in Atlanta.

Well, maybe I’m looking at it wrong. Maybe since I need something to make me relevant, being a bad boy can be the backup plan if Addy decides not to go for it. I’ll have to discuss my back up plan with Thomas to see what he thinks.

Driving home I think about the date I’ll have with Addy Springfield tomorrow night. I wonder if she’ll be as nervous and unsure as she was in high school. It would be nice if she surprised me and had turned into a complete sex kitten. Yeah right, I just can’t see that being the case from our short encounter tonight. In fact, she strikes me as the direct opposite, and somehow, that makes it all that much more appealing.

My face is pulsing and I hope I have something frozen to put on it in the freezer. After that, I might as well just go to bed to ensure I stay out of more trouble.

It had been an okay night until those jackasses blamed me for something my dad did to them. I’ll have to call him in the morning and see what’s going on with the company. He shouldn’t have to lay anyone off with the success he’s been having. Or I hope it’s successful. I haven’t heard anything different and as far as I know, dad still pays for the apartment and everything else every month.

Chapter Six: Ada

Monday, all day at school people come up to tell me how great I did and how much they loved my performance. People seemed surprised at how well I could sing. I shouldn’t be upset because I never sang in front of them before, but I was the music teacher. It shouldn’t have been that shocking. My job is literally to teach others about music.

I walk into the teacher’s lounge to find the English teachers sneering at me. Today just keeps getting better. Madeline Smith, who I consider the mean teacher leader, walks forward and smiles cat-like at me. I brace myself inwardly as she approaches. Her heels click-clacking over the polished tiles. Ugh, she irritates the crap out of me.

“So, we didn’t know you were such a star.” Her words sound nothing like a compliment. Madeline tucks a bleached blonde piece of hair behind her ear. Her diamond earrings catch the light which is probably her intended purpose when she moved the hair. Her husband is a lawyer and always gives her the flashiest gifts she loves to show off.

She is one of those women who loves to tell people she works because she’s bored. It shows too because she doesn’t care in the least about the students. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her on her phone behind her desk while her students do on their own reading. What I never understood was if her life was so perfect why did she have to tear other down?

The other two English teachers flank Madeline. Penny’s husband works for the police department and Hallie’s husband works with my father at the Maxwell plant on the edge of town. And when they aren’t torturing their students they are sharpening their claws on unsuspecting people like me.

I wonder, briefly if Charlie works there with his father as well. I’d never thought to ask Dad about it. I guess I can ask him tonight. Goosebumps pop up when I start thinking about meeting Charlie tonight. I have to pull my thoughts away from Charlie to focus on what the hateful three are saying to me.

“We would have never known you could sing like that if you wouldn’t have done the charity concert last night. You are always such a wallflower most of the time we forget you even work here. But now we know you’re a star.” Madeline flips her hair again and the others nod their heads next to her. I know she’s being nasty, but her passive-aggressive little word punches are just sad coming from an adult.

“I don’t think I’m quite a star Madeline,” I say. “Those are lovely earrings.” I hope giving her a compliment will get her and her gang to back off some.

She beams and touches one delicately, “Thanks, Lance gave them to me just because. I’m just saying it’s amazing someone with your talent would be happy being a little ole music teacher.”

There it is, the condescending little push I was waiting for all the other stuff was just a setup. Even though she’s also a teacher at the same high school, it’s obvious she thinks she’s better. She sees English as a far more sophisticated career when compared with music, and she has a husband with money. She’s told me these things repeatedly in her underhanded way for the past four years. When I’ve been the lucky one to substitute for her class, which seems far more often than someone should be out, she always criticizes whatever I’ve done with them. And now that she knows I keep the fact that I can actually sing under wraps, she had more ammunition. Somehow, I feel like this should give me some respect, not another reason to be mean to me. These women have a backward way of thinking about things.

I give her the sweetest smile I can muster. “Well, what can I say? I am perfectly content with my little ole music room. Good talking to you,” I lie. I walk out with my head held high because no matter what that vapid little wench has to say to me, she can’t bring me down today. I have a date with Charlie Maxwell. So, suck on that English bitches.

“Miss Springfield?” One of my quieter students Jacklyn comes up to me while they’re reading a chapter in musical history. I have them do work in between singing because most of them are with me for four years and I need to feel like I’m teaching them. I want them to feel like they didn’t waste their time with me.

“Yes, Jacklyn. What is it? Do you have a question about the reading?”

“No, I just want to know what will happen if you go sing with that Charlie guy. Will you still be our teacher?” She twisted her shoe on the tile not meeting my eyes.

“I don’t know exactly. I’d like to be.” I tell her honestly. “You do know that I would rather be here teaching you as long as I can, but I owe Mr. Maxwell a chance to state his case.”

“Good, I don’t want another teacher and I’m here three more years.” She smiles and goes back to her seat. It warms my heart a bit that they care about me as much as as I do for them. Madeline and the witches can have their English classes, I’ve got the best students.

The rest of the day flies by. I finish up with my students early and have to field more questions about the possibility of me becoming famous. Some of the students are excited about the possibility of knowing someone who was on the radio, while the others like Jacklyn are scared at the possibility of change.

I do my best to calm their nerves, telling them it’s just a meeting, no one is becoming famous. Charlie hasn’t even gotten a foot in the door yet, this is all speculative. There’s no way I’m making a decision like this right away and certainly not based on how famous I might be. I was being honest when I told Charlie I never had aspirations of fame. I wave at them and make my way to my car looking back to smile and get in like I don’t have a care in the world.

A few minutes later, I’m in full panic mode at my apartment. My stomach is stuck in my throat and I can’t seem to get it back in place. What the hell was I thinking?

I flutter around my apartment in a tizzy, tossing clothes this way and that out of my closet. When did my closet swallow all my good clothes? I have nothing to wear. I can’t make a decision to save my life. "This isn't happening, should I wear sexy underwear? Do I need to wear a matching bra? Why does this matter? We are having a business dinner. What should I do?" I ask Lila as I rush around to get ready. I hear her amused chuckle as I balance the phone against my head frantically pulling out lingerie and granny panties.

"Well that depends, is this just a business meeting or are you expecting more? And if more what exactly? Are you giving it up?"

"I don't know.”

“So, you have a crush on him. He’s hot I don’t blame you. Just go and see where it takes you.”

“I don’t know why I’m overthinking this. I need to just go in and listen to him and take it from there.”

“Then what’s got your matching panties in a knot?”

“I don't want him to know I'm still a virgin.” I blurt out. “It sounds stupid but I want him to be entranced by me. I want him to feel bad for treating me the way he did, and then feel worse when I tell him I really don’t want to be in the spotlight.”

“But you’re so good, honey. You deserve to be in the spotlight. Don’t shut him down immediately. Listen to what he has to offer. Thomas has a good feeling about the two of you.” Her voice had a pleading tone to it.

“I’ll listen to him.”

“Yay!”

“But only because I love you, and you set this up.”

“And you’re not letting him see your matching panties?”

“Of course, I'm not just giving it up.” At least I don’t think I am. I think to myself. Am I? How bad could it be to have sex with Charlie Maxwell? I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t fantasized about it for years. And he knows what he is doing. A virgin could do worse.

“Well you could do worse,” Lila says in that old movie star voice she likes to throw on reading my mind.

“Stop it. I’m not the girl who throws herself at someone who didn't want me in high school. Why are we even discussing this? We are talking about music.” I say holding up a sexy red bra and panty set as I speak. Why do I care what’s underneath my clothes if I’m not going to let him see?

“That's exactly what you're doing, and it’s okay to throw yourself at him. And you can not only talk music you can make sweet sweet music too,” she says and hangs up. Lila has a flair for the dramatic so I'm not surprised. I don't have time to worry because he'll be here soon and I still have to shower and shave. There's so much to do.

In the shower, I picture being sexy and cool when he comes in. I can be the opposite of who I was in high school. I play out how the evening is going to go.

Charlie will be stunned at how sexy I look. He'll stammer out we can leave anytime. I'll say, what's your hurry, Sparky. I laugh at that ridiculous nickname as I lather up my legs. I've been in the shower too long and the hot water has abandoned me. Shaving too fast so I don’t freeze, I nick my thigh and curse the gods of hair removal.

I choose a body wash I think makes me smell great and quickly wash off. Getting out of the shower I wonder if I should have washed my hair. I told myself there was no time but there had been excessive sweat on my part from my performance and I'd just fallen into bed last night and gone through my work day with it piled up. Now I worry my imagined evening is already falling to pieces.

A glance at the clock tells me I better just spray in some dry shampoo and call it good. I put on what I imagine is the right amount of makeup for such a date, lotion everywhere, and slide into the lingerie set my nerves pushed to the back as I rush around.

I look in my mirror and let out a whistle. Not too shabby. The doorbell rings and I panic, tripping over the shoes I laid out and l land on the floor with a loud thud. I bite my tongue and smack the side of my face on the carpet, my perfect smooth new personality vanishing. The fall itself didn't hurt too badly, but I can taste the blood in my mouth and my ego is painfully bruised. I tell myself, at least I didn't fall in front of Charlie.

I’m a hot mess it feels like I’ve been transported right back to high school. Looking at the clock I realize he's at least a half hour early. “What on earth? What guy is half a friggin hour early for a date? Seriously?” I mutter around my swollen tongue.

“It's me,” I hear Lila’s voice on the other side of the door. I'm both relieved and confused as I throw on a robe and run to the door.

“Hey, what are you doing here,” my tongue is swelling and the words come out more mumbled than I want them to. And when I’m going to be discussing music with a sexy blast from my past.

“Why is your face so red?”

I sigh as I test my tongue with my finger to see how bad it is. “Because I tripped on my shadow, got my feet tangled together, bit my tongue, slammed my face on the carpet and there ya go. And it’s your fault because you made me think you were him.” I put a hand on my cheek and hope it doesn’t look too bad.

“Okay, go ice your tongue it's probably not as bad as it feels and I'll find you something to wear. I’m sorry I made you panic more than you already were.”

“Why are you here?” I ask as I obediently go into the kitchen to fetch some ice.

“You sounded terrified on the phone and I didn’t want you to ruin your chances of popping your cherry before it even started. I'm here to help you get ready and quickly.” She looks at her watch and flies off to my bedroom while I ice my tongue.

“Don’t be gross Lila,” I call behind her.

I look at it in the bathroom mirror after five minutes and realize she's right it looks a lot better. I can't kiss with a tongue the size of my head. I need to stop thinking about kissing Charlie. This is what got me in this predicament in the first place.

“Come in here.”

I go in to see two dresses lying on the bed. One of them is definitely not mine.

“I brought it from my closet in case you were out of options.”

The dress she picked that belongs to me is blue with a low-cut neckline and a wraparound style. It's cute but not a dress I ever wear. The other is her dress, of course. It's a very pretty dress but it looks more like Lila than something I would wear. It's a red shift that hangs low with a scoop neck in the front and it's short. It’s really, really short.

“I don't think I can show that much leg.” I reach toward the blue dress going for comfort.

“You’ve got amazing legs. Why not show them off? You’re the only one who doesn’t think you can handle this dress. Why not go bold?” Lila picks it up and holds it against her.

“B-because, I just can’t.”

Lila laughs. “That’s an awesome reason. What were you thinking of going with?”

I pull out my little black dress. It's simple and covers up everything while still being fitted. “This little number.” I wiggle it a bit in front of her.

“You're not going to a funeral Ada. You’re going to have a dinner with a sexy man you are thinking about giving your virginity to.”

“Well, then it would be my virginity's funeral.”

“Ada you are crazy.” She says it but she's laughing at my comment.

“I know that's why I was pairing it with these bright yellow pumps and cardigan.” I point to the shoes I tripped over earlier.

“Oh, a cardigan.” She mocks me. “How hot. It’s 2018, not 1800. You’re a modern day single woman that’s a brilliant teacher and fantastic singer. Not a spinster schoolmarm.”

I frown at the image that conjures in my head. “I have to be comfortable Lila or I’ll be miserable,” I tell her grabbing the item in question from the closet. “I think it pulls it all together. I don’t look like I’m Amish.”

“Your words, not mine. I never said Amish.”

“Come on, I like this. Be my friend.”

Okay, you can lead a horse to water and all that,” Lila holds up her hands as if she’s giving up.

I smirk at her knowing she disapproves of the outfit. “Look, I look okay right. Not trying too hard, which is also important to me for tonight.”

“What exactly is your goal here? Revenge for a jerk who never called? Living out some high school fantasy you always had? Or a business dinner?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing if I’m being honest. Thanks for your input.” I point to my back to get her to help me zip up not feeling bad for my sarcasm at all.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again. I didn’t realize you were still hung up on Charlie or I might not have suggested this whole thing to Thomas. It was so long ago.”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” I pout “How is that going with Thomas?” I ask. I need to change the subject because the more I think about the high school crush thing, the more anxious and nervous I get. I’m a grown ass woman. My nerves are ridiculous.

Unfortunately, Lila knows what I’m doing. “Don’t change the subject, but really well thank you for asking. He’s a nice guy. I think you and Charlie could really be huge singing together and help Thomas too. Your voice is amazing and you wouldn’t be on the stage alone. You would have Charlie to rely on. You deserve the world.”

“I’m considering it, I just have to get past tonight. Also, I wasn’t hung up on him. Just seeing him again has brought it all back.”

“Okay,” Lila looks me up and down thoughtfully. “Do you need some sex tips?”

“No! I’m mean, it’s not going to happen. And I’ve seen things. I mean I know what to do, and if I don’t I’m sure he does.” I actually feel my face turning red as my cheeks burn.

“You’re right, that fine man probably has some amazing moves. And you’re grown and you know what you’re doing,” she says as she gets up and moves to the door. “Call me after and tell me everything.”

“I will, and thank you.” I give her a big hug and send her on her way.

She stops before she gets completely out of the apartment and turns around. Her face shows she’s about to get serious. “Has Jimmy been calling?”

I swallow past the lump that has formed in my throat at the mention of him. “He did last week, but I just ignored it.”

Lila walks back towards me. Jimmy is my ex-boyfriend. He’s one of those men who doesn’t like to admit things are over. He went through spells of calling my phone repeatedly and it scared Lila who spent a lot of time watching true crime shows from her DVR. She thinks because I wouldn’t sleep with him, he’s obsessed with getting it from me now that we’re not together. I think her thought process is a little extreme.

“Addy, I think you should tell your father he’s harassing you.”

“He’s not harassing me, Lila, I promise. If I ever feel threatened I will get help. Okay?”

“Okay. Just remember not all men are like him.” She hugs me again and leaves. I can tell she’s not convinced I’m telling her the truth. I can’t think of Jimmy right now.

Taking one last look in the mirror I make my way into the living room to sit on the couch and wait the remaining five minutes for him to arrive.

The doorbell rings and I freeze in place. Great, he’s going to leave if I can’t get my nerves under control. I need to show confidence. I have some strange desire to prove myself to him. What I have to prove, I don’t know. Seeing him again has turned me back to the lovesick little high school girl I was when he asked me out. I hope that girl doesn’t come out tonight, I really don’t care for her that much.

I get up and go to the door, opening it and putting on a huge smile.

“Hi,” Charlie smiles and extends flowers towards me. They’re beautiful, pink roses are my absolute favorite. There’s no way Lila didn’t tell him that.

“Beautiful, thank you.” I take them from him and happily go into the kitchen for a vase. It will give me something to do while he takes a look around my humble abode.

“You look great Addy. I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you yesterday. You just look different than you did in high school," he says.

I can see him looking at the pictures on the mantle as I fill a glass with water. Just pictures of my dad and I fishing and my mother and I painting before she left.

“It’s okay it’s been so many years I probably look completely different,” I say and walk over to the couch to sit while he continues to study my photos. I know I don't look different. The only thing different is my hair color and I got contacts.

“Did something happen to your face?” I ask alarmed. His eye looks black and there’s a cut on his eyebrow.

“Nothing you should worry about,” he says with a casual shrug. He tries to play it off, but I can tell he’s leaving details out and now I’m curious.

I immediately picture him picking fights in the parking lot of some skeevy bar but that’s silly, he isn’t an oversexed sixteen-year-old boy anymore. Maybe he fell down like I did earlier. I self-consciously put a hand up to my cheek hoping the redness has gone down.

He sits down closer than I thought he would. My body slides down his arm and the contact between us is almost electric. His walk across my carpet probably created static and the electric current was nothing but science.

“Are you ready to go eat, I’m pretty hungry,” he stands up from the couch. If I don’t do something now I’m going to lose my nerve. I pull him back down onto the couch and attack him. I quickly smash my face into his and by some miracle find his lips with my clumsy attempt.

He tenses, I’m hoping because I just caught him by surprise. So, I keep attacking him. My mind is having a meltdown screaming what are you doing you crazy bitch. Step away from the man, step away from the man.

This is no time for me to lose my nerve. I bring my hands to his neck and turn my head so I can open my mouth against his. He doesn’t resist so I push my tongue into his mouth. Now my body is starting to heat up and I’m finding my groove or at least I’m hoping I am. I’m good at kissing, several former boyfriends have told me that. I just never allowed anyone to take it any further. I ignore the pain from where I bit my tongue. It’s worth it.

He pulls back and I find satisfaction in the fact he’s breathing heavily.

“You know when we were in high school you called me an oversexed teenager who wasn’t going to get anywhere with you.” He runs a hand through his hair and it goes back to exactly where it was before.

I lean back. I’d left a voicemail for him saying such, but I never knew if he heard it or not. It was after I’d found out he had been out with Denise and I knew her reputation.

“Why would you bring that up right now?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed you were still conservative with your body. I don’t want you to think you need to impress me by doing all this. I want you to sing with me and I don’t want to screw this up. When it comes to being successful, I really want it not just for me, but for you too.”

“I’m much more experienced than I was in high school Charlie,” I lie. “Why would you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know,” he holds his hands up in defeat. “I’m sorry, continue if you want to.” He smiles and brings his hand up to my cheek.

The kiss starts up again and now he’s gotten into my head. I can’t focus on what’s happening. Maybe I still give off a virgin vibe? Is that a thing? I need to get it together. He brings me back to reality when his hand finds my breast and he makes a sound in the back of his throat. It sounds like the sound I make when I taste a good piece of chocolate. I take this as a good sign and gasp as he pinches my nipple through my dress. I gasp as his expert hands take both my breasts and start to do magical things to them.

I remind myself a girl with experience would think this was a perfectly normal thing for a man to do. Also, it doesn’t feel bad. I move closer to him putting a hand on his leg. His breathing has sped up more and his hand is now going down the front of my dress. He moves my hand to his crotch and I feel a hard bulge. I fight every urge I have to pull my hand back and clutch my pearls, and I’m not even wearing pearls. Am I really pretending I know what the hell I’m doing?

My heart trips and stutters in my chest as his tongue presses against mine. Clouds are beginning to swirl inside my mind, making it difficult to form a rational thought. His teeth rake against my lower lip as he nibbles gently. Wow! Who knew nibbling could be so . . . hot. I sure the heck didn’t.

I move my hand over his erection and am intrigued by how it feels like it’s getting harder with my touch. I’m not sure how but he has managed to get my bra unhooked through the back of my dress. I feel it loosen while his hand once again goes down the front and cups my breast. He pushes his tongue into my mouth once more, and I bravely suck on it leaning closer to him. I can feel his body heat radiating to mine.

A dull throb is starting between my thighs and is steadily increasing. My heart rate kicks up a few more beats as his lips skim my jawline. I kiss his cut above his eye and the bruise on his cheek. I wonder what kind of fight he got into once again but I decide he can tell me later.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to dinner before dessert,” he says breathlessly against my mouth. He bucks his hips up against my hand and I squeeze it gently.

All I can do is shake my head. Am I ready to take this all the way? What if this is it? We do it and never see each other again and then what am I left with?

One hell of a good time, my mind purrs.

Maybe I can just give him a blowjob, men like that, right? He gets off and I don’t have to give up my grace quite yet. Who calls it that? I’m going to have to stop warring with myself while a hot guy, have his tongue in my mouth and a hand working its way up my dress. The question is can I figure out what to do to get him to the end?

Taking a deep breath, I make my decision.

Chapter Seven: Ada

I slowly slide from the couch to my knees in front of him, allowing my hands to move down his legs. My nails scrape the fabric of his pants and I force a confident smile on my face. He stiffens up and I feel the hard muscles in his legs under my palms. This will help satisfy him without having to go all the way. I chide myself for sounding like a nineteen fifties teenager. Going all the way still scares me but I really don't want him to know that. Despite my hesitation, I want this. Need this. I know the reason he went for Denise Adams instead of me in high school and the memory still burns, leaving behind an acidic taste.

Boldly I reach up and try to unbutton his pants, my fingers catch as his hands close over mine.

I tilt my head to the side looking up at him. His expression is kind, his eyes heated and I flutter my lashes, “Charlie?”

His fingertips brush against my lips and I kiss them. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want the shadow of Denise in my head to win.

“No, Ada, it's always ladies first." His voice is low and before I know what is happening he pulls me to my feet smoothly. One arm wraps around me pulling me in close squeezing tenderly. A hand splays against my spine pressing his thick bulge against my stomach and heat of his body comforts me until he pushes me back, my legs brush against the couch.

I still don't quite get what he's talking about until he lowers me down. He pulls a cushion forward easing me back. I’m on the couch as Charlie kneels in front of me.

“You have no idea how you look like this, do you?” Charlie looks down and his gaze follows the run of his hands up my shins. When he reaches my knees, his eyes lock with mine as he spreads them wide slowly coming between them fitting his body in the space.

I shake my head no and he grins. So much for being sophisticated and worldly. The jig is up and it’s only a matter of time before Charlie figures out how little I know of carnal matters.

With each traverse of his hands, my pulse quickens and a million things go through my head. How in twenty-four years has this never been done to me before? I'd at least know what to expect. His fingers are moving up my thighs under my dress and hooking through my panties. He’s pulling them down and I swallow my trepidation as I lift my hips to ease his way. Everywhere they touch my skin tingles. He continues pulling them down slowly looking into my eyes and smiling. I’m suddenly very grateful I chose the sexy panties instead of the granny ones.

I feel the wetness between my legs cooling with the heat of his breath. That smile is definitely doing it for me. My insides twist and my heart flutters. His mouth twists up into an even more seductive smile than before and suddenly, it is like someone turned on the waterworks. I can feel moisture gathering.

I watch with nervous anticipation as he brings his mouth down to my knee. I gasp as the stubble of his chin grazes against the tender skin of my inner thigh. Goosebumps scatter across my legs and arms and I feel him chuckle against me.

His eyes darken and his pupils dilate. Slowly, he flicks his tongue out against his lips and arches a brow at me. I watch as he lowers his mouth and opens it against me. His velvety tongue teases my skin, pulling a long, low hiss of pleasure from me.

My heart is thundering through my chest like a wild stampede. The tingle he’d started with the feather-light kisses has turned into a throbbing ache that shoots from his mouth to my core. A tightness forms in the pit of my stomach and I feel my hips arching up involuntarily. I wish he’d get this on and yet I could stay frozen in this moment forever.

He moves his mouth up my inner thigh pushing my dress up to my stomach. My hands are fumbling and I'm suddenly aware of how exposed I am sitting on my couch with the lights on in the living room. He is going to be able to see everything.

I’m thankful for so many things at this moment; the fact that I actually shaved everywhere and I chose to wear the sexy panties instead of the granny ones. My legs shake.

I want to stand up and shut the lights off or at least ask him to do it, but his mouth distracts me from saying anything that would stop him.

My pulse quickens even more and I fight the urge to close my thighs as his mouth reaches the very inner thigh. There is a twinge where I nicked myself but I’m distracted immediately. His nose bumps me and traces a path downward as if he’s breathing me in before he tastes. One more small movement and he'll be in the middle of my heat. I feel him push my panties to the side.

Despite my embarrassment, I want him there. My body has a completely different plan from my brain and I moan deeply as he moves to cover my core with a stream of warm air. The heat of his breath warms me and at the same time, it causes me to shiver.

My hips move my body forward and he sticks out his tongue licking my folds, curling between, and sending the best sensation I've ever felt rocketing through my body. A delightful shiver tickles my limbs and cramps my stomach low with unexpected need. As I think about his tongue, his fingers making their way to my lips, and the thick ridge still hidden in his pants hot and waiting.

"Oh my," I’m overcome with sensory overload and he chuckles against me causing another sensation with the vibration. My legs shudder and twitch as he rolls his tongue over me in slow sensual strokes. I gasp and clutch the edge of the couch, my hips trying to arch away from his mouth.

“Relax. I’m going to make this good for you.” Charlie mumbles from between my thighs. Part of me knows I should be embarrassed by letting someone this close to my most intimate parts, but the other part of me delights in the amazing feeling of his tongue flicking the nub of my desire. I gasp and a whimper of pure pleasure slips through my lips.

My body tenses and he chuckles again. The vibrations only serve to intensify the sensations. “Trust me!” he growls as his hands tighten around my thighs, and he pulls me tighter against his mouth. I nod. Or, at least I think I do.

I let my head flop back on the couch cushion and revel in the feeling of his tongue curling around me. I fantasize about being in a big bed with silky sheets with each lick of his tongue. A fireplace crackles and the sparks mimic the shots of desire rocking my body. His hands grapple my thighs pushing them wider, fingers pinching. It feels so good that I don’t care about the couch getting wet, the fingerprints I’ll have tomorrow morning between my legs, or the lights above.

A hand travels under my dress covering my tender globes. “Feels so good, Charlie.” My hand covers his and we both cup my breasts, his rubbing the nipple hard under cotton and lace, mine guiding him.

“You taste tart and sweet.” He licks me in a long stroke and I moan uncaring who might hear me vocalize my desire. If Charlie did this for the next hour, I’d die a happy virgin. But I didn’t want to be virgin anymore.

“More, Charlie. I want more,” I urge him to keep going.

He pulls away faster than I can stop him and he’s fumbling with his pants and the movement cools the heat of his breath against me. The fantasy is ripped away and doubt clouds my near orgasm fueled confidence.

The reservations I ignored are back and looming before me.

“Ada?” Charlie is moving on top of me, covering me, but questioning me all the same.

What the heck am I doing?

“Stop. Please.” I push gently and then harder.

“Yeah, okay.” Charlie backs off completely as if I’ve burned him with my icy frost looking as confused as I feel.

“I, I don’t know what I’m doing.” I push him away and rush on unsteady legs to the bathroom. I don’t stop until I lock the door and sag against it. My breath comes out in loud pants as I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, now I have to hide in my bathroom forever. Too bad I left my phone in the living room or I’d call Lila and ask for help. I’m the definition of a tease, I’ve been called that before. Should I just wait until he leaves, what’s he doing out there?

Chapter Eight: Charlie

I sit on Addy’s couch by myself with a raging hard-on wondering what the hell just happened. Had she been pretending she wanted me for some reason? What had gone wrong? She said she wanted more and then ran away.

Now I’m faced with making a decision. What do I do? We still have to go out to dinner, we still have to talk about a career together. Great, I’ve gone and messed this whole thing up within a few minutes because of my stupid sexual fantasies about Ada Springfield. It could have just cost myself my whole career.

Maybe I can fix this. I walk over to the bathroom and sit down on the floor leaning my back against the wall.

“Addy,” I say and lightly knock. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, you don’t have to stay. Really, it’s okay if you leave Charlie, I’m sorry I’m such a freak.”

“You said you didn’t know what you were doing,” I say tentatively, “did you mean you’re still uhm, untouched.” Saying the word virgin to a twenty-four-year-old woman seems ridiculous to me, but I know it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

It’s just she is so sexy I don’t know how nobody has gotten into her pants yet. The thought that I was almost the first person to go where nobody had been before makes me horny all over again.

The door opens and she walks out. “Of course, not Charlie. I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m not sure I’m ready for what was about to happen.”

She is speaking with an authoritative tone, but she won’t look at me. This leads me to believe she is lying right now. I can’t believe it. She really is still a virgin and she’s trying so hard to make me think otherwise. No wonder the little scenario happened earlier. She threw herself at me so she wouldn’t keep thinking about what she was about to do. It all makes sense now. I should have somehow figured it out and slowed things down.

If it saves her feelings, I’ll play along for now. I just won’t let her get back into a position to give me blue balls again. I’m going to have to take cold showers for an entire month to get rid of the ache I currently have. But I remember her voice and how she had made me feel and realize it will be worth it. It feels like so long since I was innocent it's nice to see the world through her eyes. She is going to be my ticket to the top, and I won’t have to worry about my money coming from dear old dad.

“Okay, Addy, whatever you say. You ready to go eat. We can pretend that didn’t happen and just have a regular business meeting. The last thing I want is to be your rebound guy,” I tell her. With her taste still on my lips making me crave more. I remind myself and my dick this is business and to stop thinking of anything else.

She nods but still doesn’t look my way. I watch as she pulls on her a shapeless sweater that does nothing to diminish how sexy she is and walks to the door.

Does she think if she looks at me I’ll come after her again for sex? What kind of man does she think I am? Or is she afraid she will come after me? I remember her voicemail from so many years ago. How angry she sounded when she called me oversexed. This game might be fun to play if one of us doesn’t get hurt in the end. The issue is I have to keep her happy and committed to sing with me or all my plans fall apart.

Maybe I should stop this game before it even starts. It would be the smart thing to do. But if we’re going to be singing together and to each other, the sexual tension will be good for the music.

“I have a song I’ve been thinking we can start with that I’ve written. I have the pages in the truck so you can look at them on the way to the restaurant.” I tell her. Wanting her attention back on me.

Finally, she turns her pretty brown eyes on me. “Really, you write your music too?”

“Yes, I do. You have to make it anymore. Unless you’re Beyoncé or something.” I laugh at my own stupid joke. I’m sensitive about letting people read anything I write, but I don’t want her to know that. Secretly, I hope she really likes my lyrics.

“Who said I agreed to sing with you. This was a business meeting for you to try and convince me this is a good idea. Remember?”

“Well, we just proved we work well together.” I think we’ve surpassed business meeting and this has turned into a date, but who am I to know?

Her face turns bright red and I can’t help but smile. I hope she is remembering my lips all over her under her dress because I know that’s what all she be thinking about for the rest of the night.

“Just remember I haven’t agreed to anything yet. I don’t like singing in front of crowds and I don’t think I will ever want to be famous.”

“All I ask is you keep an open mind. We can work something out, and you can get over your stage fright. I will help you. Your voice needs to be heard.”

“I said I would listen that’s why we're going, but I don’t think you are going to be able to convince me.” She pulls her bottom lip with her teeth and I hold in my groan. She is going to be super difficult and just that simple act shot lust through me.

“Well if you don’t think I’m going to be able to get you to sing with me I guess there is no reason for you to read my song.”

Her head whips around so she can stare at me. Game on.

“No, you should let me see what you've written. It will help me decide if this is going to be worth it. I don’t want to sing just any song.”

I smile at her and wink. We both know she just fell into my trap and she is stuck.

We get to my truck and I open the door for her, helping her in. I try to ignore the beautiful way her dress flutters around her legs or the way she crosses her ankles as she gets situated in the seat. She really is different from the other girls I’m around. Savannah would have been trying to give me road head after doing a line of my dashboard. I kind of stifle a chuckle at the contrast.

“Such a gentleman,” Ada smiles.

“Hey, I try,” giving her my award-winning smile. I close the door and take my time walking around the back of the truck. Before I get to the driver’s side, I quickly re-adjust my still rock-hard cock. Even though the mood was dead and gone, my mini-me didn’t get the notice. He’s still primed and ready to go.

Taking a deep breath, I open my door and climb in. Her smile is beautiful and it sends a ping right through my chest. I need to watch out, or I may be in more trouble than I was anticipating.

On the way to the restaurant, Ada reads my music and I must admit, I’m more than just a little nervous. She’s quiet as she reads it and I have glanced at her a hundred times trying to determine what she thinks by her facial expressions.

After parking the truck, I help her down and we walk to the restaurant entrance. It’s a nice Italian place I wouldn’t bring just anyone to. Thomas told me I needed to get her on our side tonight so I was pulling out all the stops. I hope she appreciates it. I admire her backside in the dress. I’d been so close to getting off her as she walks in front of me and I shake my head. Yep, I’m in trouble.

“So, what did you think?” I can’t hold it in anymore. She’d read over it without saying a word the whole way over and the anticipation is killing me. I find myself really caring what she thinks. I can’t explain why, but her opinion is important to me.

“I think I need to hear it with the music to know if I can sing it with you,” she says.

She didn’t deny singing it with me so I took that as a plus, but it still didn’t answer my question. We take our seats at the table and the waitress brings bread and water.

“I mean what do you think of the lyrics?” I try not to let her see how desperate I am for her opinion.

“I like the lyrics, but.” She hesitates not wanting to continue talking and busies herself with her bread.

“No don’t hold back Ada, I want to know. I don’t let a lot of people read my stuff when I first write it. So, your opinion means something because I don’t have very many people to give it to me.”

She thinks as she picks her bread apart. I know it’s going to be hurtful if she’s taking this long to tell me what she thinks. She puts each piece in the oil and vinegar and watches it soak up.

“It’s a good song Charlie, I just don’t think there’s any emotion behind it. I just feel like you can dig deeper and do so much better.”

“I worked really hard on that song,” I’m defensive. “It’s about someone who used to be special to me.”

“Okay,” she holds her hands up as if she surrendering. She shoves bread in her mouth as if to stop herself from saying more, but now she has my curiosity up.

“I’m sorry. I’m protective of my work. I want to know what you really think. How’s it read to you?”

“Are you sure?” She asks once she finishes chewing.

I take a deep breath. Do I really want to hear what she has to say? “Yes.” The waitress comes back to take our order and we both keep it simple with spaghetti and meatballs.

“The way it reads to me is you were sexually attracted to this girl for the summer. You went out of your way to have sex with her and you were successful and it was a lustful relationship and it ended there.”

“It wasn’t all sex,” I say, but truthfully, it was. It was one hell of a summer if I were being honest. But I’m not going to tell her that. Although it doesn’t seem to matter she was able to get that much from the lyrics themselves.

“I mean I think you may have actually used a line that talked about the sheets or between the sheets. If that’s the message you want to send, that’s fine. I just don’t know how you expect me to sing something like that with you.”

I think about what she said for a minute. It doesn’t really make sense for her to sing the song with me. I was thinking she would take a verse and change the words a little, make it something we could both have an attachment to. Now, I’m rethinking everything I’ve ever written.

“Well, I’m glad you think my work has no meaning,” I say a little harsher than I mean. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I go to the bathroom to wash my hands and gather my thoughts. I don’t want to snap at her again. It’s not her fault. I asked her for her real opinion. I’m just too sensitive about my work. When you put your whole self into something you don’t want someone criticizing it.

I need this though, I tell myself. I need someone to call me on my bullshit and I need someone to help me make my work better. Thomas knew what he was doing by getting Ada involved, I just needed to stop being a little bitch. Music was always my passion and if I was going to make it, I needed to get a thicker skin when it came to my work.

I am making a decision right now that I must do whatever I can to make her my partner. When I go back to the table, I need to be charming and convincing this is the right move for her.

Chapter Nine: Ada

I can’t believe he just snapped at me like that. Had I realized he was that sensitive about his work, maybe I would have taken a different approach. I should have realized he was going to take offense I just talked bad about his baby. What was I thinking? I feel like it would be the equivalent of someone talking about my students or my teaching curriculum.

I shove bread in my mouth and picture it going straight to my hips. If I’m going to let him see me naked I should probably eat kale and more kale only. That’s if he would even want to see me naked after my insane breakdown. And maybe I should just keep it business. It seems that I am swaying toward singing with him. What do they always say? Don’t mix business with pleasure.

The thought of him seeing more of me later excites and terrifies me, though. Can I really keep him away? My cheeks heat up at the memory. I don’t think he bought that I’m not a virgin. The confidence I pretended to have wasn’t convincing at all.

Now he’s been in the bathroom awhile and I wonder just how angry he is at me. The salads come out and despite my earlier thought about eating better, I ask for an extra ranch. I’m a stress eater, and nothing is better than healthy food drenched in unhealthy food.

He comes back to the table and sits grabbing his napkin and fluffing it before putting it in his lap. He picks up a knife and fork and starts to cut his salad. The whole thing seems so proper I can’t help but laugh.

Charlie is looking at me like I’m insane and with a good reason. “What’s so funny?”

“You, with your proper table manners. Did you go to etiquette classes?”

“I did, my mother made me go.” He says it with surprise that I hadn’t had any. Now I feel dumb for assuming he was just being pretentious.

I look down at my salad drenched in dressing and some of it has found its way onto the table. Compared to him I’m eating like an animal. I put my fork down and compose myself.

“So, I don’t really understand why you need me to sing with you. You can write your own songs and you’re a good-looking guy. That’s basically the criteria for a success story. Tell me where I come in. Why I’m needed.” I pick up my fork and try to stab a small bite so it will go in my mouth without making a scene.

“You think I’m good-looking?” He grins and my stomach flips around.

He is a very handsome man with his wicked green eyes and well maintained styled hair. Any woman would be lucky enough to be out with him, to have his mouth on theirs. To have his mouth on their body. Suddenly my body warms up and I feel an ache low in my stomach. I tell it to stop with its ridiculous urges and shove two cucumbers into my mouth.

“Stop being modest. You know that you are. I don’t attack just anyone on my couch. They have to at least be good looking for me to maul them.” I take a large bite of salad proud that my voice didn’t crack.

He laughs and winks at me while I chomp on my salad trying not to make a scene. “So, tell me. Why does Thomas think you two need me?”

“I’m not relatable because I’m rich. People will see me as someone with money, they’ll think I bought my way up the charts somehow. Thomas is having a hard time getting them to connect with me, and he thinks you will help with that. Honestly, I do too.”

“There have to be successful singers that were rich before they went into show business.” I try to think of an example and come up with nothing. “And I don’t think you are giving yourself credit. You are very likable.”

“Well, Thomas is the one who knows the business. He’s the one who is calling the shots for me. I’ve tried it on my own, for a long time now. If he says we need you, then I need you.”

He looks me in the eyes and the way he says it gets the storm raging in my stomach all worked up again.

I decide to go back to my food. I’ve been watching him spin his pasta on the fork using the spoon. I concentrate all my energy on doing that correctly. Nailed it! I exclaim in my head grinning at the fork like an idiot. I take a triumphant bite and then somehow manage to lean forward and put my elbow in my bowl of oil and vinegar.

He raises an eyebrow and I leave my elbow there. What’s the point of making a huge deal about it? I feel all the delicious little spices stuck on my arm. Slowly I raise the arm and catch the oil with my napkin. I think I’ve pulled off playing it off when the waitress appears from nowhere.

“I’ll get you some oil and vinegar your arm hasn’t been in ma’am,” she says and whisks the little bowl away.

Charlie is laughing at me. Without thinking about it I throw a meatball at him. It misses as he dodges it and lands on the lap of the woman sitting behind him. Somehow it went over her head and fell into her lap and she didn’t notice. My cheeks burn red and he’s laughing so hard now he’s crying.

I hope the woman ordered spaghetti and meatballs so she’ll think she’s the one that dropped the meatball and reserve myself to be less childlike for the rest of dinner. I am a teacher after all. What would my kids think of me acting this way? Even though I’m chastising myself I can’t stop grinning like a fool with Charlie.

When Charlie gets his laughter under control he pins me with his gaze. “So, let’s talk high school, you weren’t ever in any of the clubs and plays I was in,” he says.

“Well, you were only in everything, but I was in a play with you. You’ve just forgotten my epic performance.”

He looks puzzled and asks, “Which one. I’m sorry but I don’t remember you being in a play with me.”

“Well, it was the talk of the school.” I am acting pretty cocky and I have no clue why.

“Enlighten me, please.”

Sitting up straight I prepare to wow him with a story about my best performance ever.

“I played a bush. You literally put your foot on me when you were skipping around the stage playing Puck in Midsummers.”

He looks at me as if he’s trying to remember. “I didn’t skip.”

“That’s all you have to say. I’m hurt you don’t remember how well my strong back took your foot on it. And you did skip.”

“I thought I put my foot on a rock. It was a manly skip.”

I can’t help it as I throw a piece of bread at him this time and nearly die as it ends up hitting a man as he walks by the table. Somehow the carbohydrate gods are with me and he doesn’t feel it.

It’s easy for me to forget why we’re here when I’m having fun. We have to talk about the singing though. It is the main reason he’s back in my life.

“So, tell me, Charlie. Why music?”

“What do you mean Addy, music is everything? It’s my life. There was never a choice. It was and always will be music.”

I try to think of a way to word it that won’t offend him but will get across what I mean.

“Okay but why do you want to pursue it like this, I mean try to go big or whatever?”

“It’s the only thing I’m passionate about. It’s the only thing I want to do. I want to leave my mark on this world and not just because I inherited a company from my father.”

“Fair enough. But, I need more time to think about it.” If somehow, he does become famous because he has a female high school music teacher singing with him then it will affect my life. I’ll be famous too. It’s not something I know I can handle.

“You do? How about this. Come by the studio tomorrow. Sit with me while I teach my students. See the passion there and you’ll understand.”

He looks directly into my eyes and I can tell it means a lot to him.

“You teach?”

“Yes, I do. Come by I’ll text you the address. Actually, hand me your phone.”

I hand him my phone without hesitation. He puts his number in and then texts himself. It says hi sweet cheeks, this is my number. Here is the address.

I raise my brows at the sweet cheeks. I also realize we are making plans for the next day but I still have to get through him taking me home without losing my cool again.

The fun evening has already taken my mind off of what happened, but now the embarrassment is seeping back in.

“You want dessert?” The waitress is back and looking impatient. I shake my head and he does the same.

“Just the check please,” he tells her.

We walk out and I feel like I ate too much. I also know I have garlic breath and pray when we get in the car I can find a mint hidden in my purse.

The ride back is quiet with both of us thinking. The song he wrote sits between us like a bomb that could explode any minute. I’m not bringing it up again and hopefully, he won’t either. It won’t do any good to argue about the song before I make my decision. I need a bubble bath, I decide and then he does the unexpected and puts his hand on mine.

The hand he touches is lying on my leg so now his hand is dangerously close to touching my thigh. I picture a world where I’m the type of girl who would take his hand and slide it between my legs. An ache I’m starting to get familiar with, starts to burn there and before I know it we’re at my house.

He gets out first so I don’t have to wonder if he’ll walk me to my door. I climb out and we walk side by side up to my apartment without saying anything. We stop on my doorstep and I wonder what I should do.

He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “Goodnight Addy. I’ll see you tomorrow at five pm. Okay?”

I just nod. The chaste kiss has thrown me off. I expected him to ravage me on my doorstep. I expected to have to fight with myself to tell him to go on. This was the opposite of being ravaged. I’ve scared him now and that makes me more upset than chickening out on the sex we earlier had. What if he decides never to try again?

I stomp around my house pouring a glass of wine and drawing a bath. I’ll figure out my life in the morning. Now I just want to relax and go to bed.

I can’t sleep though so I call Lila.

“I can’t sleep. I’m all wound up.”

“So, you gave it up?” She says with a giggle.

I think about how much to tell her. I decide honestly is probably the best policy.

“I freaked out when it was getting close to that. I let him do things to me and then ran away.”

“Oh no, did you just skip the dinner altogether?”

“No, we went out. I just had to be coaxed out of the bathroom.”

“What about singing with him? Did you make a decision?”

“I am still thinking about it, but I’m crazy and leaning toward doing it. We’re seeing each other tomorrow and he’s going to try and convince me some more.”

“Is he going to try and convince you to have sex with him?”

“I don’t know he gave me a sweet kiss after our dinner and left. I might have messed up when I freaked out.”

“I told you to let me give you some sex tips. Now you’ll have female blue balls. Have you had a bath yet?”

“No, I was about to pour some wine, run a bath and feel bad for myself.”

“Do yourself a favor and scoot up underneath that running water. You need to get off or your head is just going to be a jumbled mess. Enjoy your wine, think about him, and do what I say okay.”

“Lila you’re crazy.” I hang up the phone. If I was to enjoy my bath that much I certainly wouldn’t share it with her.

Chapter Ten: Charlie

I feel like a dick just leaving Ada at her front door last night. The truth is I don’t trust myself not to try anything with her again. Even though she said she’s not a virgin, my good girl senses are tingling. All morning I managed to have a lazy Tuesday. The guy I do work for has been on vacation, so I’ve not had to come in and work for two weeks. I know I should get productive and try to think about writing a song with more meaning, something so spectacular there is no way Ada can say no to being my partner.

I sit to see if anything comes to mind. I look down after a few minutes and see I’ve written her name and the line she is so much more than her sixteen-year-old self. Is that even a line? Clearly, I need to get my head screwed on straight.

I call my dad. He answers on the third ring, like always.

“Never let anyone think you’re waiting for them to call and be eager to answer the phone. You want it to seem like you had to stop doing something important to answer.” Those were his words of wisdom when teaching me the business, as he liked to call it.

“Charles W. Maxwell, how can I help you?”

“Dad it’s me, you know it’s me.”

“I didn’t know it was you, Charlie. I don’t look at the caller id thing, I’m too busy.”

Glad he can’t see me, I roll my eyes.

“What did you do to the guys at the factory?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about son. Yes, you can put that over there, thanks.”

My father is always doing twenty things at once.

“I had a group of guys basically attack me at the bar. They said you laid them off for no reason and they were going to make an example of me.”

“Ha, let them try. You know this is all about that ringleader they got. The men I fired they have someone who calls the shots, Henry Springfield. He’s just a troublemaker. It will all die down when he loses his steam.”

“What, that can’t be true.” I thought Ada’s dad had quit the factory a long time before. I remembered a conversation we’d had when we saw each other briefly in high school. Somehow seeing her again had brought everything back.

“Yeah, he’s been working for me for years and now all of a sudden I’m the bad guy.”

“Why’d you get rid of the factory workers dad?”

He doesn’t answer me right away which means it’s going to be bad news.

“That department was unneeded, son. Sometimes you have to let people go. It’s just the way it is. If I’m hemorrhaging money with an unneeded department then downsizing is necessary. Listen, I have to go but I’ll call you later.”

He hangs up without waiting for me to respond. Typical dad, always in a hurry. I know that he isn’t giving me the full story. The only thing I can do is go talk to the people that work for my dad. And I know exactly who I’m going to talk to first.

There’s a security guard outside the building named Paulie. He’s a big, wonderful man who gave me popsicles out of his little fridge in the security shack every time I came to see my dad when mom was still around. He will tell me whatever I need to know and I have a bit of time before practice with the kids so no time like the present.

I go into my kitchen not expecting much to be there for lunch and piece together a sandwich with one piece of ham, some turkey, and pickles I find in the refrigerator. For someone with a lot of money, I don’t shop enough. I also live alone, it doesn’t help me keep food in the house because I’m the only one ever eating.

Once I finish my food I decide to drive for a change. Lately, I’ve taken the easy way out and called Uber no matter where I needed to go. I climb into my jeep and tune the satellite radio to something I’ve not heard in a while and hope it will get my creativity going. I need to dig deeper to write my lyrics according to Ada so I’m going to try.

I drive the short distance to my dad’s building and park in the lower deck so I can walk straight across to where the security building is.

“Paulie, my main man,” I walk up to my father’s building knowing he’ll never know I was there. The most self-absorbed person in the world has people to look at the cameras and watch his parking lot for him. He’d never suspect his son was coming in looking for entail.

The office is the hub for the shipping company. My dad sells space for a living, space inside shipping containers. The factory makes the containers.

“What do you want Charlie?”

Paulie looks up at me from the chair he’s started sitting in. I think he’s probably nearing retirement age. He’s been the security guard at my dad’s company for as long as I can remember.

“I want popsicles, Paulie, what else?”

I see he has pictures of his grandkids in the windows of the little shack. He stands from the chair with a grunt and walks inside producing a choice. He holds out a red and green Popsicle and I grab the red one eagerly. No matter how old I get, there’s nothing like a Popsicle of a hot spring afternoon.

He takes the green one and sits back down in his chair. He’s still eying me with one brow raised as he takes a bite.

“I do need some information though,” I say.

“There it is. You haven’t been to see me in months. I knew you needed something.”

I didn’t realize Paulie paid attention to my visits and feel a little guilty.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much. I’ll start coming more often”

“Don’t do me any favors,” he grunts, “I’m just fine on my own.”

I make a mental note to come see him once a week and bring him lunch.

“Tell me about these guys,” I point to a picture of his grandsons wrestling a puppy in a green yard.

He lights up and tells me about each one forgetting that he’s miffed with me. After I listen intently for about twenty minutes I realize it’s four and I’m going to be late to teach the kids if I don’t get the information I need.

“I need to ask you something.” I started easing into my questions. “I was attacked by some men in a bar the other night and they were pretty mad at dad. I asked him, but you know how they don’t ever give a straight answer?”

“I do,” Paulie said but didn’t offer up anything else.

“Tell me what happened, please. Why are they so angry?”

“So, you must be talking about all the boys that worked with him for years. No offense boy, your dad has been good to me, but his loyalty is lousy.” Paulie stands and opens the little refrigerator again taking out a can of soda.

“Tell me about it. Do you know why they were let go?” I ask looking up towards the building where a man in a suit has just walked out. He does the hand pat thing on his jacket until he finds his keys. I breathe a sigh of relief when I am sure it’s not my father.

“Well, the official reason is he found a company that will use machines to create the storage containers, but I talked to Miss Sherrie, your father’s secretary.” He leans in and lowers his voice making his eyebrows go way up. I take this to mean, he’s about to tell me a secret.

“Go on,” I find myself leaning in too.

“She said he’s sending the work overseas. The people over there will work cheaper and ship the boxes. He’s saving a fortune,” he tells me. “Don’t know why she’s so impressed, he’d probably ship her in for a cheaper model if he could. No offense Charlie.”

“No worries,” I say and think for a minute. “So,” I start carefully, “the men don’t know he’s shipped the work away. They just think he’s bringing in machines.”

“I guess he figured they’d be less mad with that excuse.” Paulie shrugged and took a long drink from his can.

“So, my dad is a pillar of the community. A supporter of local business and the people in this fine town, and he just sold out.”

“Pretty much. It’s nearing five o’clock and your dad goes for a jog."

"Oh, he still runs."

"He does, listen kid. I'd be careful if you are messing with your dad's businesses. I don't know what's going on, but those men are not the only people mad at him if you know what I mean."

"I do, Paulie. Dad's a dick."

"Okay, I'm not getting into it, but you're a smart boy."

“Yeah, I gotta go anyway. Teaching the kids. I’ll come by next week.”

I walked back to the parking deck quickly so I could avoid my dad. I heard Paulie mumble something like “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The studio I teach at was built for me by my grandpa. He was one of the only family members in my life who believed in my music. He was also the one who brought Thomas into my life. My grandpa had been great friends with a music producer back in the day. He told me of all the parties they’d attended. I smile at the memory. My grandpa loved to tell those stories.

The studio is in a small shopping center next to the boardwalk. It’s next to a building my father used to ship out of right after he inherited the company. It was much bigger than the space grandpa bought but dear old dad refused to let us fix it up.

My little studio is nice. The parents of the kids I teach feel comfortable with the location and space. I’m about three minutes late so they’ll be waiting with their kids to get in the door. I only have four.

There are the twins Brady and Braleen, they’re five. There’s Austin my ten-year-old quick learner and Sophia, an adorable little brunette with a shy personality. All of them are from wealthy families and live in the upper part of town in the same area as my parents. They pay a lot for me to teach music to their children so I take it seriously.

I walk up and apologize to the parents who are all pretty understanding. The twin’s mother Sheila Foster touches my arm.

“It’s okay that you’re late. You do such a wonderful job with my little angels,” She coos at me.

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” I say and smile. Sophia’s dad chuckles and hugs his daughter. He’s seen the woman’s advances before and likes to joke about it if he’s the first to pick up his daughter. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable if she wasn’t married to my father’s business associate Reginald Foster. Not only is he someone I know, he’s terrifying.

“I’ve told you over and over, call me Sheila,” she moves closer as the twins run into the studio and start chasing each other. This is the moment Addy walks up.

“Hi Charlie,” she seems amused by my current predicament.

“Thank you, Shelia, I say and move away from her. “We better get started.”

The older woman gives Addy an evil glare as she walks away and I put my arm around her guiding her into the room.

“Braleen and Brady calm down and get your guitars. Addy, you can sit right here.” I pull out the only chair I have in the whole building. It’s an old black leather chair and came with the place. It’s got studs on the seat covering and looks like it belonged in some sort of S and M club.

I’m a little nervous to teach in front of Addy. She’s a teacher of music, and probably a lot better at it than I am. As I get into showing them chords and talking about music I put impressing her in the back of my mind and focus on the kids. I've always treated them like little adults. I think that's the reason they learn so much from me.

"Alright first I'm going to introduce you to a very special guest," I say as I wink at Ada. "This is Miss Springfield. She's a music teacher at the high school so you know she knows her stuff.”

All four little heads nod in agreement.

“Let’s show her how good we’re going. First, we’re going to go through the chords we learned last week.”

I walk the kids through their chords and as always, they nail it. I have been blessed with four little savants. I look over to see Ada smiling so at least I am impressing her.

We go through their chords again and then I help each of them play Mary Had a Little Lamb on their guitars. I'm so proud of all of them.

Chapter Eleven: Ada

I watch intrigued. Charlie is really good with the kids. He’s patient and funny. It’s like seeing a whole different side of him. I’m really impressed with the kids too. They are all so good and they pay attention. I’ve never taught small children and I can guess from those I’ve seen in the supermarket, they’re not all this easy to teach. Charlie is doing a fantastic job. Watching him patiently walk the kids through their steps is turning me on, and I feel my cheeks heat as I watch him. I don't need to picture Charlie with kids right now because I'm still trying to look at him as a business partner and not a sexual creature. It's hard though because I am so attracted to him.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I ignore it. My ex-boyfriend has been ramping up the calls since he lost his job at Maxwell Industries, and I’m not in the mood to see his number flash across my screen.

I have not mentioned him to Charlie and I’m planning on pushing that conversation back as long as I can. Since he worked and stole from his father I’m expecting that talk to be awkward. The problem is he may show up anytime when he gets this way he becomes unpredictable so he could hurt me or anyone. I am not necessarily scared of him. I just don’t want to deal with it. And he’s just another complication between me and Charlie.

My father worked with Jimmy and liked him. He didn’t care that he stole from Maxwell. That is another thing I don’t want to venture into with Charlie. Why the hell do I want to get caught up in this drama? My eyes go to Charlie helping out one of the twins and my answer appears. Charlie really is a great guy and if I decide to take my singing public he is the perfect person to do it with.

If we get serious then it will have to be discussed. I’ll have to tell Charlie about dad, and dad about Charlie.

I try not to think about it and just enjoy watching Charlie show a little girl how to place her fingers on the guitar for the third time without any irritation.

She smiles up at him when she finally gets it and my heart melts a little.

My phone buzzes again and I finally look at it seeing it’s my dad.

I hold my phone up to him and walk out the door.

“Dad,” I say when I pick up, “Is something wrong?” My father never calls me. If we talk it’s because I called him. It’s also strange because I had been thinking about him.

“I need you to come over to the house on Sunday. There are some things we need to talk about. Okay, sweetheart?” There’s a tone in his voice I don’t quite recognize. The fact that there was no greeting also shows the importance of whatever he needs to say to me is.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

I hang up and go back in the studio to find a jam session in full force. Each student is playing their own version of whatever he told them to. Charlie is in the front playing with them and looks like he’s having the time of his life.

I put the strange phone call with my dad out of my mind. It’s possible he knows about me spending time with Charlie, but I don’t really see how he can. Like everything else I push that worry to the back of my mind and lean against the wall enjoying the show.

The enthusiasm Charlie shows for helping these kids is phenomenal. I know the big question is coming again. He really wants me to sing with him. The thing is I don’t know if I’m ready to answer him yet. I still don’t know the logistics of the whole thing. We really didn’t discuss much at dinner last night. Questions swirled in my head.

Will I have to travel if we’re successful? Do I have to sign a contract? I realize this is one of those things you kind of jump into with both feet, but I still need some time to weigh everything out.

I am in my own head when I realize the little girl has made her way over to me.

“You should sing with us,” she says and swings her little body back and forth, arms outstretched.

“Oh no, honey. I’m just here to watch.”

“Please,” she makes the word as long as possible and starts to jump up and down. Now the twins have come over to mimic what she’s doing.

“How can you say no to that?” Charlie asks with a shrug. He is loving this.

“I’ll compromise. I don’t want to sing, but I’ll dance with you.” I tell them.

The girls have fun with me as I spin them around and then all the kids take turns being picked up and spun around. After about the third one I can feel it in my back. They’re so excited so I keep going.

Before I know it, time is over. The kids are packing up their stuff to leave.

The pretty mother from earlier is the first to pick her kid up. She puts a hand on Charlie’s arm and gives me a pointed look. I smile brightly at her and wave making her scowl.

One by one the parents come in and take their kids. We are alone again. He walks over to where I’m seated and looks down at me.

“See this is why I do this. The passion, the enthusiasm, the fun.” He is getting excited as he talks about it, making big motions with his arms.

“Yes, you’re really good with them. I even understand it. I love teaching my kids. The passion is the same for me in the classroom.”

“But there is so much more. You can have even more passion singing with me. I promise you will love the exhilaration. And I’ll be there with you sharing the spotlight.”

“I almost want to say yes just because of your commitment.”

“So, do it? Be the other half of my duo?”

“I don’t know.” I stand up and he puts his arm around me walking to the door.

“What’s holding you back?”

“I need to think about it and then I need to meet with you and Thomas before I make my final decision. I have so many questions that need to be answered.”

“Okay, I can handle that. Let’s go out Friday night. We’ll go with Thomas and kill two birds with one stone.” He bends over and kisses me. It’s not as chaste as the goodnight kiss from the other night, but it has the ability to haywire my brain.

“Alright, that will be good. Friday night it is”

“I’ll pick you up from the school.” He smiles and walks back inside.

My cell phone is buzzing again and I pick it up as I walk to my car.

“Ada, it’s Madeline,” a voice I didn’t think I’d ever pick up my phone to hear croaks at me. “I need you to sub for my class. I didn’t have time to do a lesson plan so you’ll have to do it tonight. I don’t expect to be back until Monday.” She pauses to cough daintily. “You’re a lifesaver, bye.”

I can’t be sure but the last sentence didn’t sound as sick as the first. This means I’m subbing for three days. Who calls in on a Tuesday night and knows they won’t be back until after the weekend? The whole thing is suspicious to me.

I don’t know why I’m the only one they ever call to substitute. They don’t think I can handle their classes so they spend the whole next day after asking their class about what I went over and then criticizing it. I know this because some of my music students have been in the classrooms and told me.

“I should have refused,” I say out loud as I get in my car. I look back to the door of the studio to make sure Charlie didn’t hear me talking to myself.

The principal who would be told immediately if I refused, wouldn’t appreciate that. I know I’m going to go home and work on lesson plans for an English class I haven’t been in once this quarter. I drive home with a lot on my mind and try to think of a movie I can play for the students.

Chapter Twelve: Charlie

I make quick work putting everything away so I can sit down to write. I like the quiet of the studio once the kids are gone to think and write. It’s a good time to play and just unwind. I’m thinking about Addy. She has been on my brain a lot since I first heard her sing.

I hear something towards the front door and wonder if she came back for some reason. Going towards the front I don’t see her standing outside. After standing and listening for a minute I chalk it up to my imagination.

Walking through the back and turning off the lights I get the feeling I’m being watched. Once I turn off the last of the lights I stand for a minute to see if I hear the noise again.

A loud crash startles me and glass showers down from the side window as something heavy comes flying through it. One piece sticks into my arm and I feel smaller pieces stick into my face.

“What the hell!” I yell while trying to shield my face from the shards.

Someone laughs in the parking lot and I pull my phone out to call the police. I walk across the floor to look at the object. It’s a brick. There’s a note tied to it that reads, we’ll take everything from you like you’ve taken everything from us.

There’s no doubt in my mind it’s related to my dad. More than likely it’s from the same men who were angry with me before. After I call the police to report the damage I debate on whether I should go outside. I decide to wait for the police because if I had to guess, there are probably at least six or seven of them. I don’t like those odds.

The laughing continues for a little longer and I keep thinking they are going to come inside and destroy everything.

“We’ll be back tonight rich boy, you better sleep here,” a loud voice says as a truck drives by. I look out and see there are at least five men in the back. I was right to wait. They had to have been parked behind the building and ran up with the bricks.

The police show up long after they have already driven away. One officer gets out and comes over to me. She isn’t in a huge hurry. She walks to the front and looks at the broken windows.

“Someone break out your windows?” She asks stepping inside.

“They threw bricks through them,” I tell her and point to one with the note. She picks it up and reads it shaking her head back and forth before putting it right back where she picked it up from.

“These are people you know?” She takes out a little notepad and pen ready to write.

“Not really. I don’t know the actual individuals who did this, but I think I know the group responsible.”

“You do?”

“Yes, just recently my father made several of his workers mad when he fired them. I think for some reason they think they can get at him through me.”

“They can’t?” She looks at me with raised brows.

“No, I don’t have anything to do with my dad’s business. There’s no reason for them to come after me.”

“Besides your dad laying them off from their jobs.” Her tone doesn’t seem helpful. It almost sounds angry.

“Right, but I am only guilty of having him as my dad. After that, I’m not responsible for any of it.”

She makes a noise in her throat and walks forward writing as she goes. I get a feeling she’s not really going to be any help. Something is bothering her about me and my family. I would get the only police officer with a chip on her shoulder.

After she looks in every room she walks back out the front and heads to her car.

“What are you going to do about this?” I say to her back.

“We’ll keep our eye out, but the chances of finding who did this are pretty slim. Here’s my card.”

“What do you mean? I told you who did it.” I need to maintain my cool but this police officer is really getting under my skin. This is my safe place and it’s been tampered with. I have children who come here to learn how can she not see how awful this is?

“You can’t prove it,” she smirks. Once she’s gone I walk back into the studio to try and pick up the glass. I’ll have to deep clean before the students return so no one gets hurt. I turn the card over and look at the name. Deputy O’Neil. I’ll have to figure out if my dad somehow knows her.

I decide to go in the back room and try and write for a little while. If I go home I’ll just end up falling asleep on the couch watching something horrible. The words in my head have congealed into one big blob of nonsense. I wonder if Addy has somehow gotten into my head with her lyric hating ways. After I play a few notes on the guitar some sentences start to form about a high school beauty wanting to grow up too fast. It doesn’t sound terrible in my head.

“Charlie, are you here.” A voice outside the room startles me and I jump upholding the guitar like a weapon above my head.

My friend from high school George Starling is standing in the doorway. He looks tired with large bags beneath his eyes. His green t-shirt is wrinkled and the jeans he’s wearing have large holes in the thighs. They are dirty and his hair is in a huge mess on top of his head.

“You’ve been on a bender,” I say as my heart starts to calm down.

“Just a little one,” he says holding his two fingers close together.

George has an addiction to cocaine. He fends for it in a way that never got me. I would use and be fine, but the second he found it he was hooked. I’d been distancing myself from him bit by bit. I didn’t want to leave a friend in trouble, but there was really no way to help someone who didn’t want to help himself. I still had the coke I’d bought from him for Savannah in my apartment. We hadn’t spoken for two months before that.

“I’ve got a problem, Charlie, I need your help.”

There is usually only one thing Charlie needs from me, it’s money. When someone has an addiction and no steady job, they get in over their head a lot. Charlie is no exception. I’ve never been able to tell him no. I feel like he’s a victim of his circumstances. I moved on to money by a chance inheritance and he remained poor in our old neighborhood.

“Who do you owe money to now, George?”

“Corky, and it’s a lot.” He looks at the ground as he tells me. Corky is a big deal in the drug community and not someone you want to screw over. There was no doubt in my mind if he didn’t get the money he’d hurt George. Knowing my sometimes really stupid friend, he probably told him I’d pay him no problem before he made the trip to my studio.

“Alright, we need to go see Corky. Where’s your car?” I ask as we walk out the front door. No point in locking up. I make a mental note to call someone to replace the glass in the morning.

“I thought we could take yours.” He smiles wearily.

“No, I’m not driving my car through South Side. It will stick out like a sore thumb.” The place we grew up is not known for Lexus SUVs, it’s known for hoopties. “Where is your car, George?”

“It’s at Corky’s. They kept it for collateral. I told them I’d come get you, but it took an hour and a half because I had to walk. Lucky you’re here.”

“Why would you tell him I was going to pay? How much?”

My level of frustration with my friend is rising. He’s done this before and I simply gave him the money, but this time he seems fearful. I know Corky and hopefully, I can defuse the situation before he gets in any deeper.

“Twelve hundred.” He winces as if the admission is painful to him. “He has to have it by tonight Charlie.”

“We’ll take an Uber and I’ll go to the ATM. This is the last time though, you understand me. You’re going to rehab.”

“I will, man. I promise. Get me out of this and I’ll go.”

I have to use more than one card to get all the money out of the ATM and go ahead and get extra to pay the Uber and give George some money to gas up his car. I am proud that I’ve been able to make my own money over the years working for a friend’s construction business. It allows me to take money out without my dad checking up on me. The accounts he’s over are for paying the studio fees and for my apartment.

Once I have the money and we’re on our way I feel a bit of anticipation. It’s been a while since I dealt with Corky. I don’t know how many people he has working for him now and he can be a little hot-headed.

“Rich boy,” he sneers when I walk through the door. I immediately wish I was armed. There are four guys sitting in the back room of Haley’s Bar. The owner is Corky’s aunt and turns a blind eye to his dealings because she gets a kickback.

I know all of this because, before the money, I was one of the people who worked for Corky. He was small time then, a little weed and loan sharking. Now he’s moved onto cocaine and bigger fish, so to speak.

“What’s going on Corky, boys,” I nod at the men standing around him hoping nothing crazy happens. The guy standing closest to the wall pushes back his jacket and I see a gun tucked in his waistband.

“You’ve got to get control of your boy, Charlie. He’s been very, very bad.”

Corky, whose real name is Tuner Conrad, sits behind a table covered in cards and coke. He wears a lot of jewelry these days and I notice some gold crowns when he smiles. It’s a completely different picture of him than I remember.

“He owes you money, I brought it. We’ll get squared and then I’m going to get him cleaned up.” I say and slap George on the back.

“You brought five thousand dollars in cash?”

“He said he owed you twelve hundred.” The little man marching back and forth in my stomach starts taking higher steps. George could have lied, but why would he put me in such a shitty situation?”

“You’re good for it aren’t you Charlie,” George looks at me. His eyes are a mix of terror and remorse. The bastard knows I won’t let him get killed and he brought me here to trap me.

“What the hell. He said he owed you twelve hundred.”

“What he didn’t tell you is I had him sell for me. He skimmed off of the product and then flat out stole money from me. Somehow he thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“George,” I turn to him, blood boiling beneath my skin unable to forgive him for this. I walk forward and put the twelve hundred on the table in front of Corky.

“What’s this shit?”

“It’s the money I brought. Sell the car you kept and then George can pay you back the rest from working. Once he’s clean he won’t need drug money anymore.”

“That’s not how this business works. Charlie, you should know better than anyone.” Corky nods at one of his goons and they produce a knife. “We’ll just cut a finger off and hold that until he can give the money, or maybe we’ll just shoot you.”

The guy pulls the gun from his waistband and I realize things got out of hand quickly. Before I know what’s happening, he’s pulled the trigger. It’s pointed right at George and there is no way I can get to him before it hits. In a split second, I realize I’m about to watch my friend die right beside me.

By some miracle, the gun doesn’t go off. I see the guy’s wide smile turn to frustration. He hits the butt of the gun on his hand at the same time the guy with the knife moves forward. Some strange survival instinct kicks in and I grab George’s shirt pulling him through the door.

My heart beats through my chest as we run. The only place to go is down the back alley. We rush through dark streets, behind dumpsters, and around homeless people. I can hear them yelling as they chase us. I wonder how I found myself in this situation again after I got out.

“If we survive this, George, I’m going to kill you.”

“Why didn’t you just give him the money? You know how he is.”

“Because you are the one who screwed up. How could you steal from a drug dealer and not warn me?” We stop behind an abandoned flower shop and I bend over my knees trying to listen. I know the area like the back of my hand but something tells me the guys following us do too.

“I think we lost them,” George says peeking around the corner of the building.

“For now,” I say thinking this night is going to have some serious consequences. “Stay away from me George, I mean it.”

“Come on Charlie, I didn’t have anywhere to turn.”

I don’t listen to him as I walk away from the building heading towards a more populated area to call another Uber and get the hell out of this part of town. Once I’m safe in the car I let the night’s events playback in my mind. I could have been killed, George still might be killed. My stomach hurts and I just want to make it to my house to go to sleep. Oblivion is the only thing that is going to keep me sane tonight.

When I get home, of course, I can’t sleep. My sanity isn’t as important to my brain as I thought it was. I’m consumed by what just happened by what could have happened. I could have easily died tonight and it really bothers me. I’m not ready to die. Hell, my life is just starting to take off. Why would I want to end it when the possibility of greatness is looming around the corner?

George should have never put me in that position. He did it knowing exactly what was going to happen to me. I’m too trusting. I slug my pillow trying to get it comfortable enough to allow me to drift to sleep. After punching my pillow into more shapes than it ever thought possible, I fix a strong drink so I can at least relax even if I don’t sleep.

Something tells me I’m going to be having nightmares if I do ever pass out. And that pisses me off even more.

Chapter Thirteen: Ada

I take more care getting ready Wednesday morning knowing I have to teach Madeline’s homeroom and her English class. She always looks so pulled together I don’t want to fly into their classroom looking like the queen of frump. I do my hair straightening it out and weighing it down with hairspray. Once my makeup is on and I put on the brightest floral dress and cardigan I own, I feel pretty good about myself. I didn’t have a lot of time to plan for the classes so I would be winging it most of the day. I came up with a writing assignment for homeroom and a movie that they could watch and I could ask some questions about the story, but other than that I would be flying by the seat of my pants.

I leave the house feeling somewhat proud of myself which is right before I catch the fact there’s lipstick on my teeth as I get out of the car. So much for feeling good. Oh well, it lasted longer than it usually does. I have fifteen minutes before the final bell rings and I want to already be in the classroom and set up before any students arrive.

Walking through the halls I say hi to teachers and students I know. I’m in the process of working on building up confidence. The pep talk I gave myself before leaving my apartment today seems to be sticking with me. It even only unnerves me a little bit to see Penny and Hallie outside the room huddled together.

“Hi ladies,” I say causing them to break apart. Each of them has a hard to read smirk on their face.

“Morning Addy. Good luck with subbing today.”

“Thank you,” I say unease rushing through me and it’s all caused by their odd behavior. An image of the three of them gathering outside Madeline's classroom for some strange ritual pulses through my head. The picture I imagine has them wearing witches hats and makes me smile. They give me an odd look when I just smile waiting for them to move out of the way. Finally, they relent and make their way down the hall to their homerooms and I pop into mine.

The walls are covered with quotes from famous authors and a bulletin board that covers a whole wall with pictures of the students. It’s a themed spread and Madeline has put each student in an apple on a tree. It’s the most unoriginal thing I’ve ever seen. I’m not surprised to see her picture larger than everyone else’s at the top of the tree.

Gag me.