Page 66 of Hey Girl
The two cops and the blond drummer they’re trying to pin to the front of their cruiser all look up, curiously. They all have weirdly expectant looks on their faces as they halt their movements, like they’re waiting for me to say more.
I swallow hard and take another deep breath. “What’s going on?” Again, no stutter or stammer.
“Ma’am, we’ve had multiple complaints of disturbances,” the caramel - complected officer informs me. I don’t have time to admire his Latin good looks before the other chimes in.
“Several of your neighbors have called to report this man making a spectacle in your front yard.”
Oh lord.
“He’s refusing to cease and desist which warrants us to take him in and put him in holding.”
I feel my heartrate spike at the idea of my gorgeous, crazy, beach-boy looking drummer behind bars after all he’s done the last few days.
“No!” My protest comes out in a light squeak but still without any sputtering. “Please, just… let me talk to him?” I hold a hand out.
“Do you think you can talk him into packing up his squatter tent and party lights? that second item mentioned briefly makes my eyes flit up to the tree branches where some very colorful globe lights have indeed been strung up, and back again as he finishes, “and act like a responsible member of this community?”
Who the fuck knows?
But pressing my lips together, I give them a deliberate nod.
Officer Latin Lover’s lips purse and his eyebrows shoot up, and he gives a lighthearted shrug. “Works for me.”
“Me too,” agrees Officer Formal as he pulls the keys to the handcuffs from his utility belt.
Chris looks between both officers, offering up one of his cheesiest grins as they uncuff him and it gives my heart a small flutter of amusement. It’s a warm tingle that I’m going to miss.
23
CHRIS
Inow owe officer Juan front-row seats to every show we do here at home. I mean, they really did show up with orders to cease and desist or some shit, but they weren’t going to arrest me until I asked them a favor.
As they drive off, I turn to Rebecca. She’s a sight for sore eyes with her newly washed hair, her glasses in place over her hazel eyes that are soft and clear. They aren’t quite joining in with the faint smile that her glossy lips are offering me but I’ll take it.
“Hi,” she greets as I stand here anxiously waiting for something to happen that will tell me where we go from here. “Are you okay?” Her chin dips, as she regards me with concern.
“Yeah, totally fine,” I wave in the direction the cop car drove off. “Donut withdrawals will make you do crazy shit.”
The tiny laugh that bubbles out of her gives me life, yet her eyes look so sad, and an unfamiliar sinking feeling takes over my stomach. What is that? Did my breakfast burrito solidify and turn into a brick?
“Do you want to come inside?” She tilts her head, and though after camping out here for - what day is it? - you’d think I wouldjump at the chance. But the foreboding burrito feeling in my stomach tells me I’m not going to want to settle in. I’ve never had one of these conversations before—at least I’ve never been on this side of it. I get the feeling I’m going to want the sunshine and fresh air to digest this. The impending dumping, not the burrito.
“Uh, the… porch is fine,” I nervously wave at the porch swing, as I follow her up the steps.
She wraps her long cardigan around herself as she turns to sit on the swing and I carefully sit beside her. Together, we find a slow soothing pace that I don’t think either of us knows if it’s one or both of us gently pushing us back and forth.
I don’t like the way I’m feeling right now. My heart is pounding, but not in the exciting way I usually thrive on. I feel sick to my stomach but not in the way I get from an extreme rollercoaster in Dubai.
I should be happy to see Rebecca so calm. But in this moment, I’d give anything to have her freak out while I be the one to settle her. It’s my new favorite way to channel my own energy, bringing us both down together. Seeing her already there tells me… she doesn’t need me. Not right now. A few short weeks ago, I never would’ve thought I’d crave that to anchor me.
Rebecca draws in a deep breath before letting it out in a long puff. “Chris, I’m going to need some time. To myself.”
“So we’re breaking up?”
She shakes her head. “I just need some time to think and get myself back to a state of control. I can’t do that if I keep barreling forward with all these new parts of my life, I - I …” her speech starts to sputter out and though she’s tearing me apart with what she’s insinuating, I can’t help but instinctually place a hand on her back. I feel her tense muscles relax beneath my hand before she tries again. “I just need to hit the pause button. I need to put the pieces back together. This whole thing with Ta-ta-Tati…thebitch, set me back so badly. I need to get back to my baseline, and then… and then we’ll see.
I want to jump off this swing and throw a toddler tantrum all over her porch and demand she be with me so that I don’t have to sit here and die a slow miserable death from heartbreak but for some reason, I’m able to fast forward in my head, to her scurrying back in her house and slamming the door in response and so I keep myself reigned in. Huh… wonder when I learned to do that.