Wait, what? Didn’t I just post a chapter five days ago?

I have no idea how this happened. I was tweaking a few things, then I got caught up in it and decided to go all out and have it posted by the end of the night. Since I finished SWW so long ago I don’t really remember how I felt or what I was thinking when I wrote these last few chapters. But this one is one of my favorite chapters in the story and I feel like that means I probably worked pretty hard on it.

Editing this reminded me how (in my opinion, anyway) I got pretty comfortable with transitions between dialogue and description and back. That’s something I’ve been working on with the new writing I’ve been doing since January. I wouldn’t say that the way my chapters were coming together was bad but it wasn’t until two weeks ago that I finished a chapter and could look it over and say the flow was seamless. Since then I feel like I’m getting back on track.

If you’re reading, thank you.

That’s what I remind myself when I’m looking at Sitting, Waiting, Wishing. What I’m currently working on right now involves characters that are in their early 20s, so shifting back to 17 to edit SWW has been a bit challenging. I stare at the dialogue and say things to myself like, “would she really say that?” and “is that how he would word it?” Because what Dusty and Kyle and Evan say…I don’t think they would say that if they were older. But they’re not. They’re teenagers. They are a certain way.

Now with all that said, I am writing this post to tell you that I updated SWW! You can read the new chapter by clicking on the link at the bottom of this post. I got to experience the pains of editing a chapter again. The way I edit is to read the chapter from top to bottom, then bottom to top at least four times. So 8 times in total at the very least. I can’t remember when it was that I learned reading your writing from bottom to top is the best way to edit, but I’ve done it probably since I was 16. The logic behind it is that the story doesn’t make sense when you read it from bottom to top, so it’s much easier to pinpoint mistakes.

I also got to see the form to upload a chapter to my own site for the first time in a few years. It was only vaguely familiar. And to think that four years ago I used to see it every few weeks. Nothing but nostalgia. It definitely brought me back.

I decided not to touch the layout for now. The footer has the wrong copyright year (2009!) but I’m just going to leave it until I start posting my new story. The layouts on the site have always had visual clues or nods to whatever the current story I was posting. If I changed it now, I’d just give it away. Also, I know that right now pointing your browser to afterglare.com redirects to this blog page and not the main site. I think I’m going to leave it that way until the new story, too.

The next chapter of SWW is one of my favorites of the whole story. It’s also lengthier than the chapter I just posted. I hope to do it justice once it is edited. I’m only half a week late from when I expected to post this chapter, so if I say I’m going to try and get the next chapter out in the next two weeks, maybe I’ll post it in three weeks? ;]

Here’s the new chapter: 3-V

It feels strange to be working on something that I wrote such a long time ago and pretty much just left untouched. I almost feel like it is someone else’s work as I go through it. But the storyteller in me is actually excited. I don’t know how I feel about Dusty taking me back to high school, but I do like going back to seventeen. I’m not sure if getting these two chapters by the end of the week is feasible. I’ll try.

Going back to when I started writing and posting stuff at 14, I don’t think I’ve ever began a story without knowing beforehand what conflict was going to arise. But I’ve had the writing itch for a while, ever since I graduated from university so I just decided to do it. On January 1st I put the pen to the paper and just went for it. So I started writing again and I realized that there was something I forgot in my long absense: you run into unexpected ideas. Halfway through writing the third chapter I had a grand moment of epiphany. The conflict came to me. It seems dumb now that I let myself sit on this idea for so long. All I had to do was start. And that seems so obvious now.

In my last blog/update in June, I noted that above all I have to write for myself. I have every intention of doing that with this story. I don’t think I really have much of a choice. I doubt that I still have an audience and even if I did, I’m not sure how interested they would be in reading this. That’s fine with me though. I am determined to finish writing this and have something complete again.

The writing kick I’m on may have been unintentionally encouraged by someone who recently read everything I have up on the site. Lana and Kieran are my favorite, I Could Have Lied is the one I’m most proud of, and Sitting, Waiting, Wishing is…still not completely posted. The person who read told me that SWW is actually her favorite and to please finish posting it. I know I’ve been saying for years that I’m going to get around to editing those last few chapters and finish posting it, but this time I mean it for real. Before she started reading, I’d actually decided that I was going to just take that story down. But then I went on the site and read all the chapters of SWW that are posted and realized, wow, I actually like the story. I guess even though I pay little to no attention to the site, there’s a reason I can’t let go of it after all this time. It’d be an accomplishment for me to see that story finally completed on the site.

I think I’ll be forever undecided on whether or not I should copy edit all of Lana and Kieran’s story. Before I started writing this post I was reading the chapters I have on the blog that have already been copy edited and I couldn’t help but think how cute they are. Is it wrong to think your own characters are completely adorable? I’m torn as to whether I should do the edit overhaul, or if it’s been too long and I should just leave everything be. I want the writing of all three stories to be to a standard that doesn’t make me cringe. It’s mostly Part One that I have a problem with, but there are spots in Part Two and Part Three I would like to fix, too. So I don’t know. But I’ll keep it on the backburner for the time being. It’s way more important for me to keep going with what I’m writing now.

Way back when, I made a couple of big site updates annually on March 12th, because it was the “anniversary” of the site opening all the way back in 2005. I will post at least a chapter of SWW and the new story on that day. Because I can and because I have to do this for myself. Maybe even a new layout!

from Coming On, Chapter Seven: Balcony Friends
Song written by Daphne Loves Derby.
Copyright © Outlook Records, 2006.

Chapter Five: Shrimp Salad

On the fateful Sunday morning that I was to have dinner with the Parsons, I grabbed brunch with Sahara before we headed to the salon.  The hair appointment my mom booked had turned into a double appointment for my best girl friend and me.  At least I would have good company while I got ready for something I didn’t want to do.  My hair was revitalized and the tone was evened out.  My nails were buffed and perfectly manicured.  That part was all good and relaxing.  What sucked was picking out a dress.  I’d been dreading this whole thing, especially during the last week that I’d spent with Kieran, so I’d put dress shopping off to the last minute.

I hit up Neiman Marcus on Wilshire with Sahara after we had brunch.  They always had a huge selection of contemporary dresses (and weren’t limited exclusively to only one designer) to choose from.  Their eager employees were always willing to help me out with accessories to complete the look as well.  I’m sure my mother’s goal was to get Nathan to fall in love with me or something to that extent.  Unfortunately for her we had a very different goal in mind.

My goal was to get him to not like me so that I could hang out with my actual boyfriend.  Was it too much to expect a dress to produce disappointment?

The perfect dress was teal, short, and somewhat cleavage revealing, but not slutty.  It would meet my mom’s standards for what was appropriate to make an impression on the Parsons family because it was a really nice dress and I knew it was a color she really liked.  But there was no plunging neckline and the back was pretty conservative.  If I were actually intent on getting Nathan to like me I would have picked a little black dress.

“What do you think, Sahara?” I asked her while I looked at myself in the dress in the three-way mirror.

She wiggled her perfectly arched eyebrows at me and smirked.  “You look hot.”

“But not the kind of hot that would make a boy think I am trying to impress him, right?”

“Hmm,” she paused, chewing on the bottom of her lip as she made an assessment.  “More like the kind of hot that means he’s only allowed to look at you.  From far away.”

“I hope so,” I said, smoothing down the dress.  “I want Nathan to…to not give a second thought to me.  I really hope tonight can be quick and painless.  I don’t want to mess anything up with Kieran.”

In a week everything seemed to just fall into place for Kieran and me.  It just seemed right.  The time we spent together seemed too short.  Not just because he was juggling a lot with school, work, the band, and a girlfriend, but also because I just really liked being with him. It was hard for me to ever know what he was thinking because he didn’t talk a lot, but I felt like in such a short amount of time he understood me.  He got why I was so conflicted with the Beverly Hills bubble and he could understand the principles I was building against it.

He was so amused that I was interested in his life and all the things that made him, well, him.  I could finally get him to say more than a few sentences at a time since I knew that he liked me and he was dating me and he wanted to be around me too.  Maybe I had trouble guessing what he was thinking but I was getting to know him.  He told me about his family, his friends, and his music—everything he was outside of the walls of Park Laine.  I loved hearing about his version of normal.

I thought about him while I was paying for my expensive dinner dress, and matching shoes, and matching blazer.  I didn’t have a budget.  When the cashier rung up my purchases it turned out that the shoes actually cost more than the dress.  Outrageous, right?  My guess was that I could probably get a nice dress for less than a hundred dollars at a department store in the mall.  But no, in the bubble, paying hundreds of dollars—plural—was normal.

* * *

“Don’t slouch, Lana,” my mom commanded from beside me.

Well, more like hissed at me under her breath.

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I moved to sit up straight in my seat.  Dinner was going splendidly.  I’d said like four sentences the whole time.  For the most part it was Nathan who was speaking.  He was really excited about some new deal that he’s just settled.  Well woo fucking hoo.  I wasn’t paying any attention.  A 19-year-old kid getting richer by the minute just didn’t spike my interest. I didn’t give a shit, and from what I could see, neither did Jeremy.  We were giving each other ‘looks’ from across the table the whole night.  I had to resist the urge to kick him really hard a few times because he was sitting right beside Nathan.  I wouldn’t want him to think I was doing some feisty flirting with him if my aim was off.

The food was terrible.  We were at La Jardine Royale, one of the most posh restaurants in town.  What kind of shmuck names their restaurant ‘The Royal Garden’ anyway?  The food wasn’t terrible per say, I just hated it because I didn’t get to pick my own food, shrimp salad.  I liked seafood just fine but I would have preferred for it to be fried and sizzling hot, not chilled.  Besides, salad isn’t a meal.  It’s a side order, and a shitty one at that.

“…for a walk?”

Jeremy cleared his throat.  Shit, did somebody just talk to me?  I looked up from my crappy food to see Nathan looking directy at me.  Oh, so now he wants to talk to me?

I’d only caught the last part of what he was saying.  As much as my mother would hate me, I had to hear the whole statement to be able to reply.  “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, would you like to go for a walk?” he repeated.

Not with you.  Who the hell goes for a walk at a restaurant?  I smiled at him anyway.  “Okay, sure.”

The last time I’d gone for a walk with a boy I was giddy because I liked him so much.  That boy became my boyfriend.  So this time couldn’t be a repeat.  What was I supposed to say to Nathan?  What was he even going to ask me?

I got up from the table and followed him outside to the terrace.  Almost automatically a server came and offered us champagne from his tray.  Lifesaver, thank you.  I guess La Jardine Royale wasn’t all that bad if they were offering drinks to teenagers.  Now was a time when I really did need alcohol.  Nathan took two glasses and placed one in my waiting palm.  He took a sip of his and smiled at me.  Oh, good God.  Was I supposed to start small talk?  Small talk was not my thing.  Not in the slightest.

“Is your evening going okay?” he inquired.

Honestly?  No.  “Yes.”

His blue eyes were illuminated by all the little tea lights on the terrace.  “Really?  I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t paying much attention to any of what I was saying.”

“I was listening,” I argued.

Nathan chuckled.  “You can admit it, Lana.  It doesn’t even matter.  I was just living up to our parents’ expectations.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have brought any of that stuff up.”

“Seriously?” I wondered and he nodded.  “Well, maybe I zoned out a few times.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged.  “What’s keeping you so preoccupied?”

My boyfriend.  “What is this!  Twenty questions?”  I bit my lip, realizing how rude it came off.  I really had to work on not reflecting what I was actually thinking in my head.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Your boyfriend?” he guessed.

“Uh, um,” I stammered.  He had caught me off guard.  “No.”

Nathan had the audacity to grin at me.  “It obviously is.  And you’re hiding it from your parents because they’ll freak out when they find out who he is.  That’s it, isn’t it?  You were forced to have dinner with my family tonight and you didn’t have a choice because your parents like me.”

Was he a psychic?  Where was he hiding the crystal ball in his jacket?

“Listen, Lana, I think you’re smokin’ hot and all, but I’m not that guy—the desperate one who needs to force girls into dates,” he told me, running a hand through his mousy brown hair.  “Sorry about tonight.  I was just having a conversation with my mom about your family and somehow your name came up, and I said that I would love to date a girl like you.  In theory.  And all of a sudden we’re here, tonight.  Don’t get me wrong, if I knew you I probably would date you, but I would never force you to go out with me.  I’m not a jackass.  At least I don’t think so.”

I laughed at his long-winded apology.  “You’re not a jackass.  And you’re funny.  So that’s good.”

“Well thanks.” He responded, looking pleased with himself.  “You do have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Nathan wondered, “So who is he?”

Again with the twenty questions!  “He’s not anyone you know.  I don’t think you’d want to know about him either.  You wouldn’t find him that interesting.”

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Must be interesting enough if you’re willing to lie to your family about him.”

“I’m not lying to my family.”  I corrected, “I’m just…not telling them everything.  Besides, Jeremy knows.”

“And he approves?”

“They haven’t met yet,” I shrugged.  “But my brother’s never been one to judge a person he’s never met.  And he’s, you know, the cool kind of older brother.”

“Does this kid have, like, a glass eye?  Or six fingers?  What could be so bad?” Nathan wasn’t going to let it go.  “Is he thirty?”

“Nathan, please.”  I sighed, even though it was kind of funny.  “No, he’s not thirty.”

“Then…”

“Well he’s…he’s not exactly from around here,” I finally revealed.

Nathan gave me that annoying grin again.  It was much different from Kieran’s dimpled grin.  “Ah, I see how it is.  So Lana Harland prefers her boyfriends not to be from the 90210.”

I didn’t say anything and he took it as a sign to say more.  “You know, I dated some girls who weren’t rich.  Those were some good times.”

He was saying it like there had been multiple encounters years and years ago.  He was one year older than me.

“That’s great,” I answered.

“You don’t care, do you?” he laughed.

“Not particularly.” I shook my head.

“So…do you want—or need—my help?” he wondered.

You can help me keep a secret from my family?  “How?”

“Well, you’ll be out a lot.  Your friends will start feeling neglected and they might let it slip.  It’s happened to me.  I’ve been to high school.  I know how the drama works,” he reminded.  “If you said you were with me, and I confirmed it, your parents might not ask so many questions.  It’d keep them happy.  You know what I mean?”

Nodding was all I could do.  Then I smiled.  Oh man, I smiled the same annoying grin as him.  Nathan was a genius.

Interlude: Screwed

So Kieran asked me if I wanted to go out with him.  I obviously said yes.  But you know what ‘going out’ in high school means.  There’s not really a lot of actual going out or going on dates.  He’s my boyfriend.

Let’s look at the pros, shall we:

He’s smart.  He’s hot.  He can sing.  He plays guitar.

Perfect, right?

Perfect except for the minor details.  Like how he’s not from Beverly Hills and isn’t going to inherit millions of dollars.  Not to mention that my mom would never approve.

But I like him so much.  Maybe those things, what he’s not, are what make the deal so much sweeter.  He doesn’t come with any strings attached—there are no guarantees.  It’s just real life.  There it is.  That’s why I like him.  Kieran is real.  He’s not part of the Beverly Hills bubble.  The kid works at Kinko’s.  That’s so…different.  Well, just the fact that he actually has a job is different from what I know.  I mean, my guy friends?  All they have to worry about is making sure their parents don’t know how wasted they were on Friday night.

For now everything is good.  My friends know, and like I said before, we’re a tight-knit group so anyone who isn’t supposed to know isn’t going to know.  Even Jeremy knows and he’s not going to say anything.  He’s encouraging it, even.  Everything should be in my favor.

My problem is that I still have to go to that dinner with the Parsons next Sunday.  I can’t not go.  What am I supposed to say? “Mom, I’m already dating this really awesome kid that you would probably forbid me from seeing so I can’t go out with Nathan.  Sorry!”  Yeah, right.  Cows will sooner fly over the moon.

But this Kieran thing really shouldn’t be that big of a deal.  Oh, who am I kidding?  Yes it is.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.  I shouldn’t have met Kieran or fallen for him with his dimples and pretty eyes.  I shouldn’t have gone on that walk with him.  I shouldn’t have been so eager to say ‘yes’ when he asked me out.  I shouldn’t have wanted to go out with him at all.

I’ll just have to live with the constant fear—a caution to be careful—in the back of my mind that everything is going to blow up in my face.  I’m not naïve.  It would just be too perfect if nothing went wrong and there were no consequences.  If my friends or my brother won’t spill the beans, well, someone will.  I’ll get busted.

I feel like it’s worth it.  It’s so exciting to spend time with him, to listen to him, to matter to him.  God, I am so stubborn and stupid.

Shit.  Fuck.  Damn.  I am so screwed.

Daphne Loves Derby – Hidden Track (Dirt Doesn’t Travel)

I just posted Chapter Four of Part One. Lana sees Tainted Fate play for the same time. I’ve always had a vision of that scene: what the venue looks like, the crowd, the way the band sounds. This song came out a few years after the very first version of that chapter was written but it’s always felt to me like the right representation of what I imagined.

If the embed isn’t working, you can click here for the media post.

Chapter Four: Tainted Fate

 The very next day was the night Kieran’s band was set to play a show.  I’d checked my appearance in the mirror so many times that I wouldn’t be surprised if my own reflection was tired of me.  I’d looked through absolutely everything in my closet to find something that didn’t scream Beverly Hills brat.  Clothes were strewn all over the floor of my walk-in closet and would serve as a reminder of my insecurities when I arrived back home.

I ended up wearing a pair of jeans I’d only worn twice before but were stonewashed and looked like they might be my favorite pair of jeans that I’d held on to for years.  My plain racer back tank—hardly enough for a night in late November—matched the jeans, my chestnut hair hung straight against my shoulders, and my eye makeup was smoky and perfect.  I still had doubts as to whether I would be able to look like a casual show-goer when I got to the venue.  Considering how I was raised, it was as casual as I knew how to be.  I put some cash and my cell phone in the right front pocket of my jeans so that I wouldn’t have to carry a purse around.  I was about ready to walk out of my room when someone beat me to it, opening the door from the outside without so much as a knock.  It was Matt.  He and I were meeting up with everyone else in Santa Monica.  “Hey, you look good.  Ready to go?”

That was something I loved about Matt.  He didn’t tell you that you looked good just to boost your ego, or to suck up.  He was straight to the point.  In the time we’d known each other he was always the kid you could count on to be honest.  If you looked like shit, he would tell you that flat out.  Maybe for others it was a negative strike against them but for Matt it worked.

“Thanks.  Yeah,” I answered.  “Let’s go.”

We walked down the long hallway of the second floor in the Harland mansion, and I prayed that my mom didn’t come out and see me just then so I wouldn’t have to come up with a bogus excuse about where we were off to.  Not that I wasn’t allowed to go to shows, but in the event that she was in a ‘concerned parent’ mood I would have to come up with fake details about my night.  Matt and I were almost down the flight of stairs when Jeremy appeared from around the corner, on his way up.  “Hey, Lana.  Matt.  Is the concert today?”

Always, always, I got caught at the stairs.

“Concert?” I shrugged.

“You said you were going with Damien and some other people to a concert.  Is it tonight?”

“Oh, no, it’s not.  We are seeing a band—different band—though.  Remember the day you came home and I told you about that new kid at school?” I asked Jeremy. “His band got on a battle of the bands thing tonight in Santa Monica. He invited us and we thought we’d check it out.”

“Wow,” Jeremy clicked his teeth and smirked.

I didn’t like the look of his smirk.  “‘Wow’ what?”

“Well I figure you must have a crush on this kid if you’re willing to spend your Saturday night watching his crappy band,” Jeremy shrugged.

“We don’t know if his band is crappy yet,” I answered.  “That’s why we’re going to find out.”

“And you didn’t deny the crush thing!” Jeremy was very please with himself.

Matt chuckled behind me as I felt my face go warm.  “Jeremy,” I whined. “You are the worst.”

“Right,” he guffawed, “and this terrible brother is the one who is going to lie to Mom when she asks me if you mentioned where you were going.”

I grinned.  “I’d really appreciate it.  I know you’re too old for it now but I’d do the same for you!”

“Sure.” Jeremy patted my head annoyingly (hey, at least he didn’t ruffle my hair) and poked the air with his thumb, signaling that he was going to continue on his way upstairs.  “Hope this kid is worth it.  Drive safely.”

We said our goodbyes to Jeremy and then walked out of the front door where Matt’s Range Rover was waiting for us.  It was a drive straight down Santa Monica Boulevard once we came down from the hills.  Matt had no problem continuing Jeremy’s string of teasing.

Afterglare was an all ages venue, with a bar for those of age, and we easy managed to score some wristbands for bar privileges with our fake IDs when we arrived at the door 15 minutes later.  There was a band setting up on stage and the air of the room was filled with light chatter among the attendees, quiet enough for me to make a quick phone call for Matt and me to find our friends.  They were at a table on the balcony level with Kieran and his band mates in tow.

Kieran greeted Matt and myself when we were within range.  “Hey, thanks for coming!  I’m glad you guys made it.”

He looked a lot different tonight than in his Park Laine uniform.  You never would have guessed that he was going to a prestigious prep school.  His piercings were in, his black band shirt was fitting, and one of his Vans was coming apart at the seams.  There was colored ink peeking out from underneath his shirt—maybe the start to a half-sleeve tattoo?  He’d looked this way when we’d hung out the night before but this time there was definitely something different.  He was in his element.  He was comfortable.

“Did you think we’d bail?” Matt wondered.

He shrugged.  “I wasn’t sure if some of the richest kids in California wanted to spend their Saturday watching our little band.”

Matt and I were quickly introduced to the three other guys in the band: Devin, Seth, and Adam, who played guitar, bass, and drums, respectively.  Seth’s younger sister, Kylie, was in attendance as well.  They were all much chattier than Kieran off the bat.

“I really like your hat,” I told Adam.

He was sporting a hat that read I’m An Asshole, which I thought was completely awesome.

“Do you?” he said.

My reply was to nod.

“Well here, you be the asshole.”

Adam placed the hat on my head gently and then quickly ran a hand back and forth over his brown mop of hat hair.

I chuckled and gave him a nice half hug.  “I don’t know you, but I like you already.”

“Likewise,” he returned.

Kieran and his comrades left as soon as the lights were dimmed when the first band was ready to start.  He’d explained that on battle of the bands night, gear load in/load out time was supposed to be as speedy as possible.  Set time was short—five songs per band—because there were 8 bands playing.  I was having a great time halfway into the first band’s second song.  The venue was smaller than anything else I was used to and it had such a cool atmosphere to it.  This wasn’t the type of show where people pushed through to get up as close as they could to the stage and sing along with their favorite touring bands.  Pushing wasn’t necessary.  The band on stage was one and the same with the kids in the crowd.  Battle of the bands night was a place to hang out with friends, support friends, and check out some L.A. area bands that might be up and coming.

The venue was a combination of people hanging out along the walls, watching from the balcony and standing around on the floor.  Once Tainted Fate—the band Kieran was in—was setting up, I made my way down to the floor with Kylie.  Maybe the intent of my friends changed once they realized they could get drinks, but I genuinely wanted to see Kieran play in his band.  Jeremy and Matt were right after all: I did have a crush on him.  Actually, I probably had more than a crush on him.

After the band checked the monitors with the guy behind the house soundboard and the lights dimmed again there were a few claps from the audience.  It was a few more hands for them than for the first band that played; Tainted Fate had some support from their friends and the local scene.  I was no more than ten feet from the stage, which was elevated just waist-high from the ground, and I thought I saw Kieran glance at me briefly as he stepped up to the microphone.  All of a sudden he wasn’t just a shy, good-looking kid.  He had a different sort of sparkle in his eyes.

“Hi,” Kieran spoke.  “We’re Tainted Fate.  This is our first song.”

When he started strumming his guitar and singing I decided that he should be a poster boy for his local scene.  There was nothing awkward about him.  He looked more natural and at ease than I’d ever seen him since the day we met.  I could see who he really was.  This was where he belonged.

* * *

Two hours later Damien and Matt were drunk and on their way to being completely wasted.  It was a good thing I’d actually been watching bands because now it was my responsibility to drive Matt home or at least put him in one of the guest rooms back at the Harland estate.  During Tainted Fate’s last song I was sure that Kieran was focused on me.  He flashed me his dimples and looked at me for almost the whole song, and it felt as if we were the only two people in the room.  It was like I was the only person he could see.  You could say we had a moment.  I thought it was cute.

Kieran and his band mates didn’t win that night’s battle of the bands but they weren’t discouraged in the slightest.  These battles happened once a month and they themselves were sure that the band that won was better than them.  Anyway, winning wasn’t really the point.  The most important thing to them was that their band was getting exposure in their local scene, that there were a handful of people that really liked them, and half a crowd that sort of liked them.  If people liked them then they could build a following and maybe even a fan base.

“Lana,” Kieran tapped my arm.

We were back at the table where Damien and Travis had been sitting when I walked into the venue with Matt earlier in the night.

I leaned my head in closer to his.  “What’s up?”

“Do you…” he moved his hand away and rushed a sentence that I almost didn’t catch.  “D’you want to get some air outside?”

I would go to the moon with you if you asked. “Sure.”  We stood and I let him lead the way to the exit.  As we were walking away I heard one of my friends loudly ask where we were going.  I looked back with a goofy grin on my face but said nothing.

The venue was a two-block walk away from the water, where the asphalt met the beach.  Kieran was back to his usual self as we made our way there, back to mellow and shy.  It was a total 180 from the way he’d been when he was playing with the band.  When we reached the sand we picked up our shoes and walked barefoot along the shore, staying within reasonable distance of the pier.  The sand squishing between my toes was far from warm.

“How come you’re like that?” I asked when a beat of complete silence came.

“Like what?”

“When you were on stage, you had, like, this aura around you.  You just let it all out.  You were comfortable with singing and playing guitar.  You looked confident—the opposite reaction of most people when put on the spot,” I told him, “but now you’re reserved again, like you’re holding back.”

“Oh.” he nodded. “I guess I kind of believe in myself more when I’m playing music.  It feels like everything just falls into place, like I know what I’m doing and I’m in control.”

He went on, “I am a bit standoffish but I swear I’m not always like this.  When it’s just my friends or my family I’m fine.  I just feel so…I don’t even know.  I guess I’m still not completely comfortable around you guys.  It’s different from my point of view.  You’re all very rich and you have everything.  It’s still a big deal in my eyes.  A lot of the time I just don’t know what to say when you’re talking about country clubs and shopping trips to SoHo.”

“We’re just people, Kieran, and I’m just a girl,” I argued. “I know you haven’t known me for very long but I’m supposed to be your friend too.”

He replied cynically,  “Really really rich people that I have nothing in common with.”

“I just watched your band play,” I countered, “and I liked it.”

“You mean that?” he asked.  “You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass?”

I nodded. “Yes, I mean it.”

“Okay,” he chuckled.  “Well I’m glad.  I appreciate it.”

“It was cool.” I crossed my arms over my chest as a heavy gust of wind came towards us.  “I would see you guys again if you invited me.”

Kieran noticed my reaction to the ocean air.  “Are you cold?”

“Kind of,” I replied. “I didn’t exactly plan my attire for a beach walk.”

“Well come here, friend,” he said as he motioned for me to step closer to him.

I smiled at the accent on the last word he spoke and let him put his arm around my shoulders.  Smooth.  Very smooth.  It wasn’t much because I was in a sleeveless shirt and he was in a crew neck t-shirt, but at least it was an excuse to be closer to him.

We kept walking and I asked, “So, what do your friends think about you going to Park Laine and spending most of the day with us?”

“They make fun of me every change they get.” he scoffed.  “But that’s just friend stuff.  I don’t think they really mind that much.  They know why I’m there.”

“Why are you there?” I wondered.  “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s for my mom,” he explained, “she’s set on me going to Stanford or a private east coast school on academic scholarship.  She knows that I’m capable of it but it’s just not me.  Not what I want.  I want to play music and tour. Being at Park Laine means that colleges see a prep school name on my transcripts, so with that and my grades I just might stand a chance of getting into one of those schools.  I don’t actually want to go but I was hoping that if I got into Park Laine she’d lay off for a while and just be happy about me being there.”

“Did it work?”

“Yeah.  I know it won’t last though.  We—the guys and I—we’ll figure it out somehow,” Kieran answered.  “I know that we’re young and we’re still getting our footing in the local scene, but we’re so sure that it’s going to happen.  We don’t think that Tainted Fate is the next big thing and we’re not expecting to ever have a platinum record or anything like that, but we like what we’re doing and we really believe in it.  We think we can get to the point where other people will believe in it too.”

We sat down on the sand by one of the lifeguard posts and he talked more about music.  He had so much to say.  I could tell by the way he spoke quickly and talked with his hands that he was really passionate about it.  The dreams that he and his friends had might be a little impractical but not unachievable.

“I know that we’re not completely amazing right now, but I don’t think we’re terrible,” he said.  “I hope that doesn’t come off as arrogant.  We know that we’re nothing special but we also think we don’t completely suck.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” I replied, a chill going down my spine as the wind picked up again.  I wished that we were still standing so that I could have his arm around me again.  “I don’t think it’s arrogant either.  You’re right.  You’re not special but that’s because you’re just not special yet.  You don’t suck at all.”

I looked over at him and met the gaze of his bright green eyes.  I felt like we were back inside the venue when he was on stage, looking at me, singing to me like I was the only one there.  This time we really were alone except for the sound of the waves pounding against the shore and the lights from the pier.  Kieran flashed me a half-smile and then broke the spell, looking away.

He started playing with the bottom of his pant leg.  When he spoke again his voice was different from the moment before, when he’d gone on his tangent about music, more quiet and reserved. “So you honestly liked the music?”

I thought it was an odd question that he already knew the answer to.  Didn’t I already tell him I enjoyed his band?  Couldn’t he tell that I was interested when I was talking about it?

“Yes,” I answered anyway, watching him.

“Good.” Kieran sure was interested in his jeans, not looking back up at me.  “That’s good.”

I sighed.  “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” he wondered.

“The shy thing.  And we’re not even talking about SoHo.”

Kieran shrugged.  The shy thing was cute and all but I just wanted him to make eye contact with me.  “I’m sorry.  I—I’m nervous.  You make me nervous.”

“I don’t understand.”  I waited for him so say something more.

He gave the most unpleasant sigh I’d ever heard, like he’d just shrugged off the weight of the world.  “See—it’s—um—” he wasn’t making any sense.  “I li—I like you, Lana.  I like you a lot.  This is all coming out wrong but I…I want to date you.”  Finally, finally he looked me in the eye.  “Will you…will you go out with me?”

Chapter Three: Heightened Sensation

 “Hello loves!” Sahara greeted everyone as the two of us arrived at lunch at the end of the week.  We took whatever available seats there were and what do you know, mine was right next to Kieran.

Park Laine Academy didn’t have a cafeteria.  The food was gourmet, you didn’t even have to pay for it, and it actually tasted really good.  It was included in the annual overpriced tuition. Of course, you could go and have lunch off campus, but with only half an hour for lunch and only one class afterward (as graduating seniors of the Class of 2004), my friends and I hardly ever did that. The student body ate outside on the balcony set on three different levels, overlooking the ocean in Santa Monica.  It was another thing to like about school: it was outside of Beverly Hills.

Picking up my apple juice and twisting off the cap, I spoke to Kieran, “Hey, how are you doing?  Enjoying our version of cafeteria food?”

“It definitely beats meatloaf.” he told me. “I don’t know what I enjoy more, wearing the tie and fancy shoes or getting to sit on the coastline every day.”

“You forgot about the pretty girls, dude.” Travis chimed in, looking back and forth between Kieran and me.

Kieran nodded, looking away and fidgeting in his seat.  I narrowed my eyes a little at Travis and shook my head.  His smile was smug.

“So, Kieran was telling us about his band,” Damien interrupted,  “before you and Sar got here.  So, dude, continue…”

“Uh, yeah…some of you said you wanted to come check us out. We’re playing this show next Saturday night, here, in Santa Monica.” he talked quietly, looking down at his food the whole time.  “The venue is called Afterglare.  I don’t know if you guys know where that is.  If you want I can give you the address.  So, if you guys could go…that’d be pretty awesome.”

I had to smile at how shy he was.  He was cute when he was shy, which was pretty much all the time.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve driven past that place.  That’s a few blocks from the movie theater right?” Matt asked.

“Yeah.” Kieran answered.

Those of us who liked ‘that’ kind of music told him we would be there.  I’d never been to Afterglare.  I doubt my parents would want me there at all.  But I’d been to a lot of places I wasn’t supposed to be.  All of us had.  My main group of friends was really tight-knit.  We had each other’s backs and made sure that we didn’t get into any real deep shit.  Making sure my parents didn’t find out about every place I went to was never a problem.  I wasn’t going to let this be an exception.

* * *

Before meeting Kieran, I didn’t exactly have ongoing casual conversations with other students in my Economics class.  I didn’t really have any real close friends in there.  I knew who everyone was, yes, but only because I’d gone to the same schools as them for so long.  But that didn’t mean they were my friends, right?  In the last two days, I’d found that it was easier to talk to Kieran either without anyone else around or in a small group.  I’d given him a ride home again the day before and we had a nice conversation going for the whole drive.  It wasn’t hard to talk to Kieran once you got used to his soft-spoken demeanor.  He was really laid back and down to earth.  Easygoing is most definitely my type.

Currently, we were finding information in our textbooks and jotting down notes while keeping a conversation going.  “Seriously!”  It was an exclaimed question.

“I’m serious.” I smiled and flipped to the next page.

He stopped writing for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief.  “You’re seventeen and you’ve never been to a Target?”

“Not once.”

“But that’s like,” Kieran paused, finding the right word, “illegal.  You haven’t lived until you’ve been inside there.”

I had no choice but to laugh at myself, “Well, gee, thanks.”

“I guess it makes sense with you being super rich and all but that’s…that’s pretty unbelievable.”

“You make it seem like it should be one of the world wonders,” I responded as I wrote down an apparently important statistic.

“It should be!” Kieran was over exaggerating enthusiasm, “There are unbeatable bargains all over the place!”

By then I couldn’t concentrate on writing anymore.  “Ooh…amazing.”

“Maybe you can go with me one of these days.  You can see for yourself.”

Is he subtly flirting with me?  I think he’s flirting with me.  I didn’t think he knew I took that statement to heart and had a newfound expectation that he would take me to Target.

“That’d be fun.” I told him.

He nodded.  “Sure.”

That marked the end of the Target conversation, and I raised a new topic for discussion.  “So I feel like you kind of know about my friends and me, you’ve seen how we are, but I don’t know much about your friends.”

“My friends?”  I nodded at him and he answered, “Well, basically, the three closest friends I have are the guys in my band.”

“So tell me about your band then,” I suggested.

“I don’t know,” Kieran shrugged.  “Um, I’ve known them for years now.  I feel like they might be the best friends I’ll ever make and I don’t know how to say that in any way that isn’t girly.  But yeah, they’re pretty great.”

I gave him a smile, “Kind of like you?”

Hey now, I was good at flirting too.

Kieran had a bit of a laugh.  “I wasn’t aware that I was a great guy.”

“Oh yeah, you’re not just great.  You’re super great.  You, Kieran, are the heightened sensation of all great things.”

He was smirking.  “Really, now?”

“Um…sure.”

“Well I think you’re pretty awesome yourself.” Kieran gave me that stupid dimpled smile that made me feel like I was really special, and dare I say important, to him.

I had to stop myself from giggling.  God, I felt like I was in middle school.  “Yeah, um, thanks.”

I’d known the kid for not even a week and I was at the point of head over heels obsessed with him.  Head over heels.  I’d never understood that figure of speech.  I mean, your head already is over your heels.  But stupid phrase or not, I really, really liked Kieran.  He made me feel giddy.

* * *

With dissatisfaction, I set down the cup of Sprite that I was drinking.

A week after Kieran had told me about his favorite bargain superstore and his friends, some friends and I had spent the last half hour driving around the Westside.  The original plan was to hang out in Damien’s pool house and watch movies.  But as soon as we were at Damien’s house we felt the overwhelming need to eat fast food.  We ended up at a Wendy’s instead.

Sahara, seated to my right, rolled her eyes at me and dipped a fry in ketchup.  “Are you complaining about the ice again?”

I nodded, “Why do they have to put so much damn ice in drinks?  I mean, it’s already half water coming out of the fountain and then they have to fill half the cup with ice.  So really, more than half of what you’re drinking is water and only like, a quarter of it is the actual chemical stuff that makes up the soda.”

Damien reached diagonally across the table and patted my arm.  “Thanks for that, Lana,” he smirked, “I really learned a lot.”

“Screw you.”

“You know, you can order it without the ice…”

My eyes moved to look at the person who’d just spoken.  Kieran.  Did he…did he just make fun of me?

With narrowed eyes, I glared at him.  Matt, who was seated to my left, burst out laughing.  Sahara and Damien followed suit, and Kieran beamed.

“Yes, I know that,” I returned, “But then it’s not cold enough.”

He raised his brow, “Then you’re complaining because…?”

I scoffed and retorted, “Aren’t you supposed to be shy?”

Kieran shrugged.  “You’re making a big deal out of soda.”

“So what!  Fast food chains should learn how to serve cold drinks without taking away from the chemical substances that aren’t good for your body,” I explained with a smile, “also known as soda.”

He repeated the same phrase with more emphasis on the last word, “You’re making a big deal out of soda.  Remember when you said you didn’t like to be treated different because of your zip code?  Well, if that’s the case, I don’t mean to offend you, but you’ve got to get more comfortable with watered down soda.”

“She does this any time we decide to get fast food,” Matt jumped into the conversation.  “You’ll get used to it.”

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” I directed at Kieran.

“Oh, I don’t.” he took a sip of his own drink, Dr. Pepper. “I’m just saying that it’s only a drink and you’ll survive.”

I gave him a small nod.  “Point taken.”

“Is complaining about soda just some inclusive Beverly Hills thing that I don’t know about?”

“No.  That’s an inclusive Lana thing that you don’t know about.  But now you do.”

“Right.”

“Uh huh.”

We didn’t say anything else for a while as the group conversation picked back up again.  We were having a private moment just staring at each other knowingly.  It was the first time someone had really cut me down to size and pointed out how unreasonable I was being.  Based on the conversations we’d had, he was taking me seriously.  It stung a little bit to be told that you were being hypocritical and going against what you claimed that you really wanted.  But it was a good sting and actually I kind of wanted to kiss him.  Here was a kid that was genuine and had so much substance, and we were making a connection.