Riana's Cavatina (Sonata of Love Book 2) Page 6

  I was pulled from my daydreams as I became aware of the crowds of people around me murmuring and gossiping about a small group of other women as they came down the sidewalk.

  “Isn’t that Kim?”

  “Well, I know that’s Tabitha.”

  “That has to be Kim.”

  “Who’s Kim?”

  “Tabitha’s friend. Alex has been hanging out with her. They say they aren’t dating, but I mean, come on.”

  “Well, he’s still only eighteen, I’m sure he’s seeing all kinds of girls.”

  “Oh my goodness, I’m pretty sure that little girl is Rebecca.”

  I had never gotten into the whole scene of knowing who their family members were, but I did know that Alex and Derek had a little sister. I peeked my head around the other girls, but by then the group of friends and family had been ushered inside. Ah well, didn’t want to be a crazy stalker type anyway.

  I didn’t participate in any of the gossip that continued long after the mystery girls went inside, but I did find mild amusement eavesdropping on it. I knew that many of us had crushes on any of the three guys—maybe even on all of them—but it still seemed unjust the way some of the fans tore into any woman who hung out with the guys. The fans judged them on everything from their choice of footwear to their haircuts, body size, sunglasses, handbags, where they went to school. How did they even know where they went to school? The more I listened, the more disturbing it became.

  I had never been so thankful to have a door open in my life. I needed to get away from all the talk. I just needed the music. Security scanned my ticket and I shoved it back into my jeans before I jogged to my favorite place—front row center. I dropped my bag to just the other side of the barricade and breathed a sigh of relief. It was the perfect physical manifestation of my happy place.

  Soon enough the bad-talking, snotty, rumor fueling fans faded into the background and all I focused on was the guys. I screamed out lyrics, swayed as Derek waved his hand over the audience. I jumped when Matthew told us to, and clapped in sync with the connection of Alex’s drumsticks over his head. I was theirs, wholly and completely. Their music would own me until then end of time, I was absolutely sure of it.

  Lexi wasn’t able to get up to front row with me as the meet and greet went longer than usual and the general admission crowd was let in while she was still backstage. She settled in towards the back of the venue. It was only mildly less insane there, but she could see everything—even how the crowd seemed to breathe with life—how it surged and retreated in waves. It was something I had no intention of ever experiencing, I much rather be the wave.

  I’m sure there’s an explanation somewhere, but all time not spent at a D.M.A. concert goes slower than seems possible, and the time spent in the throes of a full concert go by faster than a blink of an eye. Except for small moments that I was sure I imagined. Moments like when Matt stepped to the center of the stage to sing his heart out, when he bent down and reached his hand out to the crowd and his eyes met mine. Time essentially stopped and I almost forgot to breathe. As his eyes left mine time jumped back to super speed. I tried to slow my heart but when his hand reached up to massage the side of his neck as he glanced to me again I was sure my heart couldn’t beat any faster. My mind thought back to the necklace I had made him, the one he had worn for years. Surely that didn’t mean anything. He was probably just wiping sweat away. It is hot in here.

  I purposely turned away from Matt and grinned as I watched Alex lose himself in a particularly fun drum solo. He couldn’t stop himself from rocking in rhythm with it and I lost myself for a moment in the sensual movement. I licked my lip and bit it just as his eyes opened and met mine.

  Damn. When did he get so hot?

  D.M.A. had been scarce the last year and a half as they worked on the newest album, and the absence made Alex’s transition into adulthood more apparent. Everything seemed to freeze again and yet everything continued around me, until I was sure his lip pulled up in a knowing grin. I felt completely exposed in my realization that he was an incredibly sexy man. No longer a teenager, but a full grown, glorious man. I became much too overwhelmed by the dirty thoughts that overtook my mind. I laughed and shook my head as I winked at Alex then danced around a bit before I lost myself back in the music.

  Towards the end of the show I brought out my phone and video called Sam. I turned my back to the stage and lifted the camera up so that Sam could see me and D.M.A. as we all sang together. It was tradition, we always video called each other when we were at D.M.A. concerts. It was a way to have these special moments together, even when we couldn’t be together. Derek saw that I was video chatting and took a few steps towards the center of the stage and leaned in towards the camera, giving Sam quite the show of him rocking out on a fun guitar riff. I’d never seen Sam’s eyes so large and excited. It was fantastic.

  “Lex!” I called out as the crowd shuffled through the venue towards the exits. I found her by a merchandise table. “How was the meet and greet?”

  “A little embarrassing, but I mean, when do I not completely embarrass myself?”

  “What? No.”

  “Yeah. Guess who couldn’t even bring herself to look Derek in the eye. Ugh! It was so stupid. I was able to shake Matt’s hand and Alex’s hand—he does smell as good as he looks by the way—but it’s like, the moment I got to Derek my brain fucking short circuited.”

  I threaded my arm through hers as we walked out. “I’m sure he didn’t even notice.”

  “Oh no, he noticed. He wouldn’t let go of my hand, and he like bent down to try to catch my eye as he asked me about stupid things like if I was from the area or if I traveled a ways for the show.” She shook her head. “Yep, I’m going to be known as the girl who was too shy to talk to Derek Jennings.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to talk to any of them.”

  “Well, that might make me feel a little better.”

  With my desire to not spend my summers with my emotionally inept mother, I was able to actually remain on track to finish my four year degree in four years. Lately it seemed like graduating on time was more of an anomaly than a trend. More and more students took anywhere from five to six years to finish their four year degree. The summer between my junior and senior years, the summer after I turned twenty-one, would leave me buried under guilt for not going home. It was that summer that my mom succeeded in wrapping her car around a tree after a particularly heavy night of drinking with local judges and attorneys after the end of a high profile case.

  I didn’t handle it well. More accurately, I didn’t handle it at all. I pretty much ignored it. I turned to my ability to turn everything off, to numb myself and avoid any feelings. I attended her funeral, but never cried. I tried to call my father, I thought maybe he’d like to know, but only reached a message that said his number was no longer in service.

  Mel called me as soon as she heard of my mom’s passing and offered to be available at any time if I needed to stop in. I avoided the center, but took her up on a couple phone calls and lunches at a quiet café. Despite knowing it’d be safe to be vulnerable with her, and process any of the emotions I was sure would eventually come up in this ordeal, I remained stoic.

  I lingered in my small hometown for only three days as I got my mother’s affairs in order. Most of the process was handled by the very attorneys she’d been out with the night of her death. I made sure that my belongings were put together and kept safely in storage as the rest of our belongings were auctioned off. I was so detached from her, and everything that place stood for, that I had no issues watching it all go. No conscious issues at least.

  As I pulled the front door shut and locked it for the last time I paused. A part of my life had actually come to a complete end. There would be no reason for me to ever return to this house or this town. I could feel my proverbial wings spread even further, the sensation of being completely free of any ties was invigorating—and the
only sense of emotion I’d had since learning of her death. “Seems it’s time for a road trip.” I skipped off the steps and to the Camaro. I flew through town and pulled into Lexi’s parents’ driveway.

  “Oh Riana.” Sophie said as she opened the door. She pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead. “I am so sorry about your mom.”

  “It’s okay.” I said. I saw her frown but brought me upstairs without pushing anything.

  “Hey Ri.” Raj called from the kitchen.

  “Damn Raj, when did you get to be so tall?”

  He dried his hands on a towel and wrapped me in a hug. “If you’d come home once in a while you would have noticed.”

  “Yeah, I know. Sorry I’ve been so scarce, but at least I’ll be graduating next spring, so it’s pretty worth it.”

  “We’re so proud of you, Riana.” Arman said as he pulled me into a side hug. “Lexi should be back any minute, she just ran to the store for more buns. You hungry?”

  “Well, I suppose I could eat.” I grinned. Arman knew I’d never pass up his grilled burgers.

  “That’s my girl.”

  I forced myself to eat enough to sufficiently convince Arman and Sophie that I was full, then Lexi and I took a drive alone. We didn’t talk, we often didn’t have to. Being together was frequently enough to create a sense of calm. But as I pulled onto interstate 35, Lexi perked up. “Where are we going, Ri?”

  A sly grin appeared as I glanced over to her. “You know how my mom was always so strict about appearances even after I moved out?” Of course she knew. “We’re going to get tattoos!”

  “Riana! No.” Lexi laughed. “Really?”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh I don’t know, maybe for the small fact that they’re permanent and we haven’t discussed design ideas?”

  Well, there was that minor point.

  “Fine.” I pouted for only a moment before my grin returned. “Piercings it is.” I declared. “Because if you really hate it, you can take it out.”

  Lexi relented, because she knew full well I wouldn’t budge on it. “Alright, what are we piercing?”

  As we drove home I kept lifting my head higher to get a full look at my new piercing in the rearview mirror. “It’s so freaking cute!” My lip was tender, but the dainty silver barbell that was now nestled through my bottom lip was absolutely worth it. It may have been immature, to essentially give my now dead mother a final “screw you”, but it was a last step in claiming my freedom from her.

  Lexi opted for something much less conspicuous, which made sense with her future goals of working with children. If only they knew that her right nipple now bared a 14k gold ring. “I still think you should have gotten them both done.”

  “Hell no!” She laughed. “One hurt enough.”

  “But now you’re unbalanced.” I snorted before laughing.

  “Much like you.” She teased.

  I dropped my mouth in an attempt to appear offended, but only succeeded for a few seconds before laughing again. “Looks good though.”

  Lexi snapped a picture of me and sent it off to Sam.“I think Riana lost her mind.”

  After a few moments Lexi’s phone pinged and she laughed. “Sam says that you might be going crazy, but you’re still super hot—even with a piece of metal through your lip.”

  “Ugh, I wish Sam could have gone with us.” I groaned.

  Movement Five

  Even though I chose not to attend Acadia on the East Coast, Brandon was still unable to support me in my quest for higher education after I graduated high school. I left him behind in that small town to likely drink himself to death, while I pursued my liberal arts degree. It was hard, to realize that Brandon would never be able to support my dreams. He would always use my education against me, to insist that I thought I was better than him. But you know what? Maybe I was.

  I dated a few guys here and there through undergrad, not many as it was a bit difficult to find a large sample of men considering St. Kate’s was essentially an all-women’s university. Not only that, but I was fairly anti-men after being assaulted, with the exception of Brandon—and Bryce of course. Once Brandon was no longer in the picture, I had to come to terms with some lingering after-effects of the assault, and it wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t ready to put myself in situations where I had to decide whether or not to trust a man. As I tried to get a hold of this dilemma, I didn’t just put myself in some less than desirable situations, I allowed men to use me as I attempted to prove I was okay. I wanted them to want me so I could convince myself that I wanted them too. I never said no, I never trusted them enough to quite honestly. If I didn’t say no, then I couldn’t be raped again right?

  As I finished up my under-grad and worked more with the University Women’s Center I started to see the fault in my rationale, and pulled away from seeking comfort and validation in random sexual encounters. I met with Mel about twice a month, to discuss how things were going with my advocate on campus, and how I was managing relationships with men. Except I didn’t manage relationships with men—short, uncommitted encounters was all I could manage. The more I could resist the temptation to be validated through an ability to not break down while having sex, the harder my healing became since I could no longer hide behind misleading actions.

  Through this struggle, I was finally able start forgiving myself, and started to see that I was meant for more. I started to attend more events and rallies with my advocate, and found my voice by senior year. I couldn’t yet get on stage at a large event, but I shared my story with group members at the center and small classes in the Sociology Department. It sparked an initial desire to speak my truth and create awareness around trauma that a majority of women experience. The response of my audiences became the motivation to continue, and by graduation I knew I was called to be an activist against sexual violence. A calling I never thought I’d accept, but knew I’d never deny.

  Lexi and I both got into the University of Minnesota for graduate school. The Master’s degree in Human Rights was my dream degree, and Lexi wanted to continue on for a Master’s in Special Education; a happy combination of her love for English and special needs children.

  It was there, on September 14th that I met a man who would make me question everything I had previously thought about men. A man who would make me question if perhaps I was wrong to automatically mistrust men, a man who would leave me desperate for a full on relationship instead of a hasty encounter.

  The weather had started to have a bitter chill to it in the early mornings and evenings. Lexi and I were in heaven; fall in Minnesota was a beautifully balanced season. Warm sun, but less humidity, cool breezes and artfully turning leaves. It was the epitome of what everyone usually envisions when they talk about autumn.

  Lexi and I had just left Coffman Memorial Union, with fresh coffee in hand when I saw him. He was heading towards the Union and my steps faltered when his eyes met mine. It felt like my breath was knocked out of me, and I was pretty sure I whimpered when his lip curled into a smile.

  “Ri?”

  I couldn’t help but turn my head to continue watching him as he effortlessly took the three small steps in front of the union in two strides.

  I felt a sudden impact on my shoulder which almost sent my coffee flying out of my hand. I gasped and turned to face Lexi. “What?”

  She laughed lightly and shook her head. “Someone got your attention?”

  I felt my cheeks fill with a hot blush. “No?”

  I avoided her amused expression and instead turned to the spread of still green grass that balanced out the cold, harsh lines of the cut granite, cement, and limestone of the building behind us. “Wanna hang here?” I braved looking at her and she shook her head as she laughed again.

  “Sure. I mean, who other than your best friend should sit with you as you try to inconspicuously wait for some guy you don’t even know?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t.” She sa
t down and crossed her legs in front of her. “You know, I think he’s in my Cognitive Development course.” She was annoyingly nonchalant about it as she brushed her curls off her face and slipped on her sunglasses.

  I excitedly kicked my foot into the side of her foot. “Really?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, not that I really care…”

  “Right.”

  A few moments passed between us as we sipped on our coffee and soaked up the warm rays, knowing full well that soon we’d be denied this small pleasure. Winter in Minnesota, even if it was bright and sunny, was not the time to attempt to increase your vitamin D levels.

  “So…does he have a name?”

  “Not that you care, right?” Lexi teased. “I think it’s Brian, or Ryan, or something like that. You know, typical white boy name.”

  I snorted as I tried to contain my laughter. Lexi didn’t disapprove of white guys, but she said things like that in an attempt to deflect a lot of the racist assumptions about her. Lexi’s mom was white, but her dad was Egyptian, which left her with rich, deep, olive skin and beautiful, large, golden brown eyes. The tone of her skin paired with her full, unruly curls usually gave people the impression that she was Latina or bi-racially Black. I would have loved to have had her exotic look, at least then I would have been something unique instead of the run of the mill blonde.

  “Perfect. I’ll just holler out ‘Hey white boy’ next time I see him.”

  Lexi shrugged. “Might work.”

  Determined to prove I wasn’t overly interested in this guy, I changed the subject to our looming thesis projects. Despite the Master’s program being something I loved, I always doubted my ability to come up with a decent thesis and I dreaded the research to go with it. Lexi, on the other hand, was excited to start her project. She couldn’t wait to finish up our second year so that she could get out in the field and work with special needs children in school settings to assist in her thesis paper. I envied her confidence.