“I don’t want him to think I’m a freak.”
“You’re not the freak, that pervert…what’s his name, Nightingale? He’s the freak,” Tina said hotly.
“You didn’t hear the stuff Hilary said last night about Christian. I had no idea he was so well known. It would ever work out between us.”
Tina snorted. “I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘work out.’ If it means having great, hot, healthy sex with a gorgeous man who obviously is crazy about you, then I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If ‘work out’ means that you and Christian getting happily married at St. Catherine’s while your adoring family looks on, moving into a cozy bungalow just down the way from Terry and Hilary and living happily ever after—well, I sort of doubt it. Christian’s too cool for any of that lame crap. But then, so are you. You just haven’t figured that out yet.”
Megan glanced up in surprise. “How do you know so much about Christian?”
“I’ve read some interviews. One from Rolling Stone and one that he did for The Reader a couple years ago. He’s actually a pretty reclusive guy, so I tend to notice when he does an interview. You have to trust them a little more than all that crap they print in the tabloids. You can tell he’s smart by the things he says, his sense of humor. He seems well-educated, well-traveled, fun, confident without being arrogant—your basic female dream-come-true. Besides, haven’t you heard his lyrics? I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten you into bed already by just talking to you.”
Megan’s idle flipping of pages stilled. Tina’s words were just a little too disconcerting—and accurate—for her comfort.
“His lyrics are really sexy?”
Tina gave a silvery laugh. “You are so out of it. Yeah, his lyrics are sexy all right, but not sexy like, ‘You shook me all night long’ or shit like that. He’s really cerebral—more so than some of those teenage head-bangers who show up to his concerts and buy his stuff could ever comprehend. He’s poetic sometimes, irreverent others…always passionate. Sometimes, I think he chooses his lyrics not so much because of what they say, but because of how the words strike the ear, how they feel in his mouth. Yeah, I’d say his lyrics are damn sexy. Just go to iTunes and sample some of his music.”
“I can’t, my computer is still broken and I haven’t got the money to repair it,” she replied as she flipped a page.
Tina laughed softly. “You’re not in any hurry to fix it, either. I swear, you’re the only person I know who could live comfortably without modern technology. Never mind, I’ll bring you one of his CD’s.”
Megan was hardly listening. She continued her browsing, her mind going a mile a minute. Everything Tina said coincided exactly with her experience of Christian’s song last night—all except the part about the teenage head-bangers. Megan knew she was out of it when it came to mainstream culture, but was the sensual, bluesy sound of Christian’s music really what kids liked these days?
“Hilary said that Christian doesn’t even live here. He shouldn’t be trying to start something with me when it’s so temporary,” Megan blurted out.
“That’s Hilary talking now. Haven’t you ever heard of airplanes, telephones…Internet sex?” Tina sat up in the chair determinedly. “Just between you and me, sweetie, this thing your mom and Hilary do to you—this protective thing?—it’s weird. It’s not healthy. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s just because they care about me.”
Tina scowled. “Yeah, sure. But
they’re letting their worry get in the way of you leading a normal life.”
Tina startled in surprise when Megan abruptly threw her portfolio down on the floor, hard.
“It’s not their fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who’s let it happen. I’m the one that leads an abnormal life.”
Tina stood up, looking shocked. “Jeez, Megan. You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know it. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at this stupid situation.” Frustration welled up in her. Her eyes shimmered with tears when she looked at Tina. “It’s not Hilary’s or my mother’s fault. Even when I was away at college and grad school—away from this neighborhood—I kept myself wrapped up in some kind of…cocoon, too scared to take a chance, always submersing myself in my art, shying away from men—not because I was scared of them like everyone else seems to think, but because I never knew the right things to say.”
“That’s not a shocker,” Tina defended. “You just didn’t have much practice, the way everyone treats you with kid gloves in this neighborhood. You’re just a late bloomer, Megan.”
She stared at her friend, her mouth gaping open. “A late bloomer?”
“Yeah,” Tina said, as if it were all obvious. “You get along with Christian okay. You just needed to find the right guy to bring you out of your shell.”
Megan made a scoffing sound. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” she said acerbically. “What am I supposed to tell Christian, exactly? ‘I’d like to sleep with you, but I’ve never been to bed with a man before, even though the doctors have proclaimed that without a doubt, I lost my virginity in more ways than you’d care to hear about well over twenty years ago.’”
“Sounds like a good start to me,” Tina said without missing a beat.
A few seconds passed before ragged laughter erupted from her throat. That’s why she loved Tina so much. If she’d said the same thing to Hilary or her mother, they would have broken into tears and tried to give her a sedative. If her father were still alive, he would have turned pale and gone into the den with a full bottle.
“He’d freak out and run, Tina,” she said wearily as she picked up the portfolio. “I can’t say I’d blame him.”
“You’re never going to know for sure unless you try,” Tina replied softly.
Chapter 5