Fan Girl Read online

  I hang up and sit tapping my chin with my phone and trying to decide if this is the best idea. I have to tell him, period. I’m here. I’ll write a note and tell him to meet me after the show somewhere. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to see him in person again.

  Decision made, I go get ready to see Rolling Bridges, face to face, for the first time in almost ten years. I shower and shave to the beat of the Rolling Bridges set list. This is a tradition that goes back to their first venue days. My outfit is a black Jack Daniel’s shirt, distressed skinny jeans, and black high heel lace-up biker boots. I put on a slouchy beanie and order room service.

  At six o’clock I’m in a cab to the concert hall. While getting my ticket from Will Call I get a text from Bobby. It says to be on the stage left stairs at nine. I write him back and say thank you again. I grab all of the t-shirts that I need, along with some hoodies, but they’re sold out of the cute pink women’s shirts I know most of my Shell girls will wear.

  Bummed, but still excited about the show, I find my seat. They put me where I usually sit, on the side in the elevated seats. It’s close, without being on the floor, which is excellent since I’m vertically challenged. There are tons of different accents around me as the arena fills. Mostly girls, but maybe one third guys.

  I still get a huge buzz from attending the concerts. It’s all adrenaline and endorphins. The opening act is good, but darker. Hence their name Dark Knight. I wait with bouncing knees and a shaky stomach for the band to come out. Even as nervous as I am about after the show, as soon as the band starts playing I’m on my feet cheering for these guys. Deklan looks particularly good this evening, but then I have insider information on him. His rust, white and green plaid, short sleeve shirt is tight on his upper arms, with a rust colored shirt underneath. Brown cowboy boots, under jeans that cup his butt, and a brown leather cuff on his wrist finish his outfit.

  The crowd goes crazy, of course, and I work out my nervous energy by dancing and singing my heart out. By intermission my legs are shaking, and I can’t get a deep breath in. By nine o’clock, during the intermission, I leave my seat and go stand by the stage. A security guard asks me for my ID, then lets me through the gate to stand by the stairs. The next five minutes are interminable for me, but finally the arena gets dark again and the lights start flashing. The guys rush to their instruments and Deklan is back on the stage, unbuttoning his plaid shirt. The guys are playing their instruments, but he’s just standing there with his hip shot out to the side, looking at the audience and taking his shirt off. I swallow and pat my back pocket to make sure I still have the note I wrote.

  I look up when I hear Deklan start talking. “Back when we were still a garage band, there was this one girl that came to see us. She taped all of our shows, still does by the way, and you can find her on YouTube. Every time we know she’s in the audience, we want to tell her how much we appreciate her sticking with us. Why don’t you come up and see us, Ali!”

  I slowly make my way up the stairs, and smile at the look of shock on the guys’ faces. I don’t look at Deklan, because I won’t make it up there at all if I do. I hold my hands out and spin in a circle, then double over laughing when all of the guys stop playing. They’re so stunned.

  Fandy is closest to me, and he takes his bass guitar off saying, “No fucking way!”

  I was prepared for this, and pull out my driver’s license. I look nothing like the old me. I lost a whole other me in weight and then some. And my hair isn’t the same color, not to mention the tattoos. He passes my license on to Tommy who has left his drum set to greet me.

  Fandy gives me a huge hug and spins me around saying, “Oh, Ali girl! You are one rocking chick!”

  I smile as he puts me down saying, “Thanks Fandy.”

  He shakes his head and backs up for Tommy, who has passed my license on to Peter.

  Tommy tells me I look good ‘kid’, Peter says I look hot, Tag says he’d do me, and Alan says he wants to lick my face. I duck away when he sticks his tongue out and laugh at him shaking my finger.

  Deklan is last and I’m afraid to look at him. He’s looking down at my ID with pursed lips before looking back up at me. His eyes are confused and semi-cold. He hands me back the ID and I swap it out of my back pocket for the piece of paper with the address on it. He hooks his arm around me and pulls me close growling in my ear, “I feel like a fucking fool.”

  I jerk back and look at his face. He thinks I set up New Year’s? “You came to me. Don’t get it twisted.”

  He smiles and points me to the crowd with his arm still around my shoulder. The fans scream and the lights are bright.

  I smile and wave before turning back to him, “I have to talk to you, I wrote the address to a café on the paper in your hand. It’s really important Deklan, I would never do this otherwise.”

  “Christ, you still smell good,” he says taking a deep breath. “I’ll meet you there after the show, tonight, ten thirty. You better be there, I’m not waiting around.”

  I spin out from under his arm, and the guys wave from their spots on the stage, already playing the intro to a song. I go back to my seat and take a picture to send to Redy. After sending it, I rock out hard to the last three songs in the set, taking my frustration out in the music. As soon as it’s over, everyone starts evacuating the building. I stay with my feet propped up on the rail in front of me. I feel someone take the seat next to me. Looking over, it’s Bobby and he’s flipping through his huge camera.

  He finds what he’s looking for and holds the display up to me, “What is this?”

  This would be Deklan scowling at me and me glaring at him. I sigh. “Bobby if I tell you something, will you promise not to say anything to anyone? I haven’t told a soul.”

  He looks concerned, “Yeah Ali, you can tell me anything.”

  I look at him, “I haven’t even told Stacie yet.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  I look out over the now empty seats and notice the crew isn’t breaking down the stage. The guys play another gig here tomorrow, since this is the last in the European tour and this show sold out in an hour.

  “Deklan didn’t recognize who I was on New Year’s. Hell, he didn’t even ask my name, he just started dancing with me then drug me back to his hotel room. The condom broke, I’m pregnant, and now I’m the number one fan that is trying to trap him. I just know that’s what they’re going to say. Last night when I got off the plane, I went to get some food and it turned out to be a bar. Deklan showed up, asked me my name, and danced with me again. I left him there, and when I was up on stage, he said he feels like a fool. He thinks I set him up when he came up to me both times. So how do I get that man to see that I don’t want anything from him, he just needs to know?”

  I look over at Bobby and his eyes are bugging out of his head. “Holy fuck, Ali,” he breathes.

  I sigh and put my head back on the seat and look at the ceiling. “I know, Bobby.” I check my watch, “I have to leave. I’m meeting him at a café soon.”

  I get halfway down the stairs before Bobby says, “Good luck, Ali. Let me know if I can do anything.”

  I wave back to him and catch a cab outside.

  When I get to the café I see I still have time. I look around and don’t see Deklan. I grab a tea, take out my phone, and see a text from Redy. He’s responding to my photo.

  RedyGo: Looks sexy

  DirtyDozen: The lead singer is an asshole

  RedyGo: Oh how the mighty fall. What happened? Did he sing a bad note?

  DirtyDozen: Bad attitude

  I hear the bell ring on the door and look up. I drop my phone on the table and it clatters, making him look my way. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black leather jacket, blue jeans and biker boots. His hair looks wet, like he just got out of the shower. He locks eyes with me as he walks my way. I’m frozen, and my heart pounds like I’m prey.

  He takes a seat, resting his back on the chair, all the while keeping his eyes on me. I
look back, but we don’t say anything. After several minutes I sigh and pick up my phone.

  DirtyDozen: super bad attitude. Like, I want to punch him in his head bad attitude.

  I send it and put the phone in my lap so I don’t seem rude. I take a sip of my tea as Deklan takes out his phone. I didn’t hear it so he must me following my lead. I look out the window at the Eiffel tower that’s lit up so pretty, and my phone dings. I look down.

  RedyGo: Do it.

  I smile and type.

  DirtyDozen: LOL I wish.

  I look up and notice Deklan messing with his phone again. I watch his fingers fly across the screen, then my phone dings in my hand. I look down, then back to his phone, and back again. My face pales and I feel momentarily lightheaded. No fucking way.

  I pick up my phone and type.

  DirtyDozen: Where are you?

  I look up to see Deklan with a crease in his brow as he types something. His lips are red from the chill temperatures and his slight scruff looks so good. Why is everything so complicated? I can’t even handle what’s happening right now. I suddenly feel like I’m outside of my body.

  RedyGo: bored. Where are you?

  DirtyDozen: Sitting in a café trying to find the words. This can’t be happening.

  Deklan leans forward and types under the table. I look at him with my eyes burning. My best friend is this man. I’m 99.9% sure. I put my head down on my arm resting on the table, and read my phone under it like him.

  RedyGo: Words for what? Are you losing it again?

  DirtyDozen: Do me a huge favor and take a picture of who you’re with right now. Anybody.

  RedyGo: WTF? Fine.

  When I hear his phone make the camera shutter noise, my control shatters and I’m sobbing into my arm. Deklan asks incredulously, “Ali, what the hell are you doing?”

  I hold my phone up and show him the screen with shaking fingers. It’s a picture of me with my head down. You can see my beanie and shoulder is all blue sky and swirly clouds.

  “No fucking way,” he says dumbly.

  I groan as every conversation about Rolling Bridges I’ve had with Redy crashes through my head. This can’t be happening to me. I’ve raved about new music. I told Redy about the black and white poster size pictures I have in my tattoo parlor of Deklan Thomas, chest bare, showing all of his ink.

  “Did you plan this, too?” he asks me.

  I roll my forehead back and forth on my arm. Without lifting my head I point out, “You came to me, asshole. You wrote to me first about yoga. You danced with me the first time and last night. I didn’t plan shit.”

  “You knew who I was when you slept with me.”

  I pick my head up and grab napkins to wipe my eyes as I tell him, “Yeah Deklan, and you knew who you were, talking about Rolling Bridges and you fucking are Rolling Bridges.” Ugh, I might be sick. “If you would have thought about it, you could seriously have put two and two together and come up with Ali Pierce. You’ve been one of my best friends for years, and you never realized? I get the tickets, Deklan. I told you the band had them for me! You should have known.”

  He shakes his head looking devastated. “I just liked talking to someone who wasn’t a crazy fan. Someone who didn’t obsess over me. Someone who treated me normal.” I study him for a long minute and can understand his side. I tell him, caustically, “Even on New Year’s I never treated you like you were anything but normal, so you can lose the attitude.”

  He watches me solemnly, then finally nods his head. “You’re right. You did. I apologize.” He searches my face. “But what did you have to talk to me about that would get you up on stage. I know you hated that.”

  My breath stutters in my throat, then I laugh a little hysterically, which quickly turns into sobbing. Big gross, snotty, loud sobs that shake the table and the spoon in my tea cup. I’m trying to reconcile the two men in my life at the moment, with how my future is going to be and what my past has been. It's going to take a while and I’m an emotional mess, so it won’t be pretty. Dabbing my eyes, looking everywhere but at the man in front of me, I notice we're drawing attention. I finally move my eyes to the gorgeous guy in front of me, and see him looking warily around the cafe too.

  He catches my eyes and orders quietly, “Calm down, I just had a concert tonight and don’t need to get recognized right now. I just want to find out what's going on with you that has you so freaked out. I’m still Redy, as much as this situation is fucking with my head. Talk to me.”

  “I’m pregnant!” I wail as my eyes fill with fresh tears, and I hiccup.

  Deklan freezes then casts his eyes around the cafe, shoots his chair back and stands up in a rush. He comes across the table and grabs my arm with one hand, and the chair with the other. I have enough sense to snatch napkins up before he pulls the chair out and tugs me up. He walks me fast through the front door. Out on the street, he wraps an arm around my shoulders curling me into his body, slips on Ray Ban sunglasses and ducks his head.

  It seems like we walk forever. My head is down, buried in his chest, and I cry for a long time while breathing in his scent. Deklan leads me through turns, but I don’t know where we're going. After about an hour I think I’m all cried out.

  He notices and slows to a stop, pulling my chin up. “Okay?" he asks, searching my face.

  I shake my head yes then no.

  He pulls me back into him with his arm still around my shoulder and simply says, “Ok,” while looking around.

  I glance around too, and have no idea where we are. The tower is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. We're in a tiny side street, barely wide enough to fit two cars at the same time. There are buildings on both sides straight off of the cobblestone street.

  "Where are we?" I ask nervously.

  “No idea," he tells me shortly, then takes off again. Looking for a busier street, I imagine. Finally, after four or five turns, we find an intersection with a light that has a taxi about to pass. Deklan waves it down, opens the door for me and gently pushes me inside. After telling the driver his hotel name he sits back, slouching in the seat, and alternates between watching me and looking out the window. His arm rests on the door, with his fingers rubbing his bottom lip in thought.

  I think about my emotional state and how he has a damp spot on his black shirt. I know my face is red and splotchy and my nose is stuffed. By the time we pull up to his hotel, I can feel my eyes swelling. It's a beautiful hotel, but out of the city. Probably so fans don’t find them. Deklan opens the door, then holds a hand out for me. I take it, but he doesn’t let go when I’m out of the car. He curls his fingers in mine and leads me to the round elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. It's only about six stories so it doesn’t take that long, but standing in an elevator with my nose still running, sniffling, I shift my feet uncomfortably. Finally the bell dings and he walks down the hall a bit, stopping at a door and taking out an old iron key. Under other circumstances I would laugh, seeing a rock star pull that huge key out of his pocket instead of a card from his wallet.

  Once in the room it’s all warm woods, gold coloring, and soft lighting. The shades are pulled almost all the way down so it's a very intimate, cozy setting. While facing the closet he clears his throat, slips out of his leather jacket and hangs it up. His back muscles are shifting and bulging as he moves, and I struggle not to make a noise in my throat at the sight.

  “Have a seat, let’s talk this out,” he suggests.

  I look from the couch to the chair by the window, wondering where the best place would be.

  He shoulders past me and into the bedroom, “In here.”

  My eyes move between him and the bed, then back again. He sees the apprehension on my face and rolls his eyes.

  “You’ve been walking around in high heels for over an hour, crying your eyes out and you're pregnant. I don’t know shit about that, so just take your shoes off, climb in the bed, lay down and get warm. It'll make me feel better,” Deklan explains. />
  That's pretty thoughtful of him, actually. He's so gruff looking I’m not expecting him to act like I know Redy would. It's all so strange.

  I get into bed laying on my side, tattooed arm out, holding the covers to my chin, then watch him climb on the bed on top of the covers and lay facing me. His eyes roaming down my arm, he reaches out a hand and traces a cloud, a tree, then a wave. Then, resting his hand on top of mine, he curls his big fingers into my small palm. “So whose kid is it?”

  I snatch my hand back and yell in his face, “I swear I’m going to punch you in the head, Deklan Thomas!” He’s smiling at me but doesn’t move to stop me. I lower the fist that made its way up when I was yelling, putting it down and deflating on the bed. “Redy would know that,” I tell him in defeat.

  Deklan reaches up to rub his eyes. “Christ, I talked to you after your first time.” He puts his hand back down. “But I didn’t know you hooked up on New Year’s.”

  “You knew something was up,” I point out.

  His eyes squint in thought, “That’s right. You said you did something stupid. Thanks for that. I thought it was hot as fuck, and was mightily disappointed when I woke up to you gone.”

  I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. “Deklan, you didn’t ask my name. I was a hookup. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t even see your face until I was on the bed. I just knew that you danced well and smelled good, and you had that dominant thing that I never knew…” I break off because he’s smiling so big his dimple is showing. I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t remember the first time, so I thought why not? You are clearly experienced. It seemed like a good idea. Then afterward I went to get my dress from under the nightstand, and I saw the condom drip. It was right in front of the clock on the nightstand. Do you remember that?”

  He nods his head. “I picked it up in the morning, but I didn’t see it dripping.”

  I shrug. “I didn’t know what that meant. I thought broke was like a popped balloon, not a pin hole or something.”