REWIND SIXTEEN
“TRY TO SEE IT MY WAY, ONLY TIME WILL TELL IF I AM RIGHT OR I AM WRONG”

JULY 28th, 1981

So, I went to supper with Olivia, to meet her father she didn’t know she had.

We were going to meet her father at the restaurant, so I drove to her house to pick her up. Luckily, her mother wasn’t around. 

“After you dropped me off yesterday, I decided to talk to my brothers. I went over to George’s place. Junior met us there.” George was the younger of her brothers, he was 20. Junior--Joe Jr.--was 22. 

“How did that go?” I asked her.

“Amazingly well. They were worried about me. And they didn’t blame me for their father leaving. They’re pretty pissed off at Mom, though.”

“They should be.”

“You know, I can understand why she wouldn’t divorce Joe for an uncertain future with my Dad. I can even understand why she tried to pass me off as Joe’s kid.” She took a deep breath. “But to continue the fiction after Joe figured it out and left? To keep my father from me for all these years that Joe was out of the picture? And to basically steal the money my father was sending for me? Those things I’ll never understand. And I may never forgive.”

“I can’t blame you,” I sighed. 

“She’s avoiding me like the plague right now. Apparently she has the tiniest inkling of a conscience, surprise surprise.”

“Either that or it’s self-preservation. She’s afraid you’re going to skin her alive.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” she hissed. “Anyhow, at least I have my brothers’ support. And yours, of course,” she grinned.

“Of course.” 

We went to the Century House, a nice restaurant that I’d always liked, and it had long been my parents’ favorite. It wasn’t ritzy, but the food was fantastic. We met her father there. 

Livvie introduced us. We shook hands. I think we looked at one another a wee bit warily. Hey, I understood. It was kind of the reverse of the usual ‘boyfriend meets father’ scenario. Usually, Daddy is the man in his little girl’s life, and the boyfriend is the interloper, to be looked upon with trepidation. Here, it was rather the other way around! Though Ben, as he told me to call him, was also still wary of me, of course. 

Part of that, I’m sure, was my appearance. Well, one aspect of my appearance, anyway. Most of it was fine. I was dressed neatly, my usual ‘nice casual’ clothes--polo shirt and chinos--you know, my usual LL Bean standbys. And I’d taken a shower and all that. 

The thing was, I’d been trying to keep myself away from the ‘geek’ image as much as I could. And, appearance-wise, there was something about me that just screamed geek and was something I couldn’t avoid--the glasses. The rather thick glasses. It sucks that wearing a device to correct bad eyesight became some sort of a nerd flag, but that’s the way it was. 

And glasses, for me, weren’t an option--without my glasses, I walk into walls. I’m blind as a bat. And there were no such thing as contact lenses for people with severe astigmatism in 1981. So, I needed something else to counteract the glasses. 

It was easy--my hair. It was rather long at this point. Look, I liked long hair. On girls especially, but I liked it in general. Worst haircut I ever had was when I was a little kid and my mother took me for a buzz cut. I hated it. Like the song says, “Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair.” 

So, I had the hair well past my shoulders. I’m sure Ben looked at that and thought, “I just found my long-lost daughter--and what exactly is this hairy thing she’s going out with?” 

Anyhow, we sat down. A waitress quickly appeared and we ordered. Then Ben started with the inevitable questions.

“How long have you guys been going out?” he started by asking.

“End of October,” I said.

“I liked him before that, but couldn’t bring myself to tell him,” Livvie said with a laugh. “One of the girls in his band figured it out and told him.”

“Yeah. Livvie hung around the band while we were rehearsing,” I said. “Debbie, who’s in the band and one of my best friends, told me that Livvie had a crush on me. I, of course, was oblivious, typical male that I am.”

Livvie cracked up. “At least, after Debbie clued you in, you didn’t dawdle.”

“Nope,” I agreed, smiling at her. “I asked her out right away,” I told Ben.

“Ah. And what’s this about a band?” Ben asked. 

“He’s the lead singer and guitar player in a band,” Livvie enthused. “They’re awesome!”

“Thanks, sweetie,” I said to her. “I’m the rhythm guitarist and one of the lead singers, to be precise,” I told Ben. “My friend Stan is the real guitar player. And his girlfriend Michelle, who’s also our bass player, splits the lead vocals with me. There’s seven of us, four guys and three girls.”

“That’s a big band,” Ben said.

“Yeah. But we get a big sound,” I told him. “We have me and Stan on guitars, Michelle on bass, we have a drummer and two keyboard players. And then there’s Debbie.”

“Who plays everything,” Livvie laughed.

“Pretty much. Guitar, percussion, saxophone. She even plays a little flute. And when we decided to learn God Only Knows a few months ago, she went out and bought a french horn and learned the intro.”

“I think she could learn any instrument given a few hours,” Livvie said. I nodded in agreement. 

“You guys play the school dances?” Ben asked me.

“Yeah, that and parties. We just played a huge block party on July Fourth. We’re actually playing a house party for a friend of mine this weekend.” 

“You plan on trying to ‘make it’?” Ben asked me.

I laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t turn it down, but we don’t play original songs yet, so we’re not thinking of that right now. But we’ve talked about it. I do write songs, as does Michelle, and we know that if we want to start playing the clubs in Boston when we all go to college, we’ll have to start playing our own stuff. For now, though, it’s just fun.”

“Well, if you’re planning on college, then you have a back-up plan anyway,” Ben said.

“Well, I don’t know. Music’s probably the back-up plan,” I laughed. “We all want to keep the band together as long as we can pull it off, but we’re all planning on college. And I’ll probably eventually end up in medical school.”

“Are you a good enough student for that?” he asked me.

Livvie cracked up. “Oh, I didn’t tell you I was going out with a genius? This jerk got 1600 on his SATs this past spring. And he’s ranked second in the class.” 

“Oh,” Ben said. “Wow.” Well, good. Remember, he was a college professor. That little bit of info was going to impress him much more than me being in a band. I could visibly see him relax when he realized his daughter’s boyfriend wasn’t just a long haired rock and roller. 

“When did you guys meet?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Livvie thought. “When was it? Ninth grade?”

“Eighth. Science class,” I reminded her.

“Oh, yeah. But I really didn’t know you until ninth, when I started hanging out with Beth.”

“True,” I agreed. “Beth was my best friend,” I told Ben. “She befriended Livvie at the beginning of ninth grade. That’s when Livvie and I got to be friends, through Beth.”

“I told you what my life was like, the crummy clothes, the lack of friends,” she said to Ben. He nodded. “Beth picked me out and started hanging out with me. She was my first real friend.”

“That’s Beth for you,” I agreed. 

“If she’s that good of a friend to you, is there any way I could meet her while I’m here?” Ben asked.

Ah, shit. He didn’t have any idea what can of worms he’d just opened. But that innocent little question hit Livvie like a board across the face. She looked up, startled, her lower lip quivering, and moisture gathering in her eyes. “Beth....” she tried to say, but just couldn’t get it out. Ben was looking at her completely confused.

“Beth died about a year and a half ago,” I quietly told him.

“Died?” Ben asked, incredulous.

“She had leukemia,” I told him.

“Oh, man,” Ben said, in shock. “I didn’t know.”

“You had no way to,” I said.

“You’ve lived a whole life I have no idea of,” Ben said to Livvie. “Good and bad.”

“Mostly bad,” Livvie said with a wry half-smile, though she was still sniffly. 

“Beth wasn’t part of the bad,” I said to her, softly but definitively. “Don’t ever think that. Even though she’s gone now, Beth was part of the good.”

“I know,” she said. “Well, I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” I said.

“She befriended me out of the blue,” Livvie told her father. “I always wondered if she did that just to take her mind off her own problems, because she was already sick when she did it.”

“She got diagnosed the summer before eighth grade,” I told Ben, “and she knew from the start there wasn’t much hope. But it wasn’t quite like that,” I told Livvie. “She was trying to pick out a worthy person to help out, yes. She feared that her life wasn’t going to be worth anything, believe it or not.” Livvie snorted at that ridiculous thought. “I know, but she told me as much. When I told her how much her friendship had meant to me, I think that’s when she decided to spread the love, so to speak. But she genuinely liked you, a lot, don’t make any mistake about that.”

“I know she did,” Livvie said. “Anyhow, I got to know Eddie through Beth,” she told her father. “After Beth died, well, I avoided Eddie. And tried to get solace through a series of guys. Let’s just say that any previous boyfriend of mine before Eddie I would not have wanted you to meet.” 

“I wasn’t sure about him when you walked in,” Ben said with a grin.

“What?” Livvie said. “My genius nerd boyfriend?” she laughed.

“It’s the hair,” I said with a chuckle. “I’ll explain that when Livvie’s done,” I said. Ben nodded. 

“Right,” Livvie said. “Anyhow, I dated a string of losers, figuring that was the best I could get. After the last one ended, which was last July, I got fed up. I realized I needed a true friend, so I called Eddie. Just as friends, mind you--he had a girlfriend at the time.”

“Yeah, Kara, my first--and third--true love,” I laughed. “That’s a long story. Let’s just say that Kara goes to boarding school an hour away. We tried the long-distance thing, it was too tough. We still love one another, but she has a new very serious guy, and I have Livvie. When Livvie called me last summer, Kara and I had already decided we were going to end things at the end of the summer.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that at the time,” Livvie laughed. “I was just looking for a friend. And Eddie came through. It was after hanging out with him all summer as friends that I realized I was in love with him. And, luckily, Debbie figured it out and clued him in before I drove myself crazy over it.”

I laughed. “And I was free at the time. In fact, when I found out, I had just found out that Kara had met her new guy. I was genuinely happy for her, but I was also at a bit of a loss, if you know what I mean. Livvie came along at the perfect time.”

“In more ways than one,” Livvie laughed. “You see, the band had its first gig a couple weeks after Eddie and I got together. If it hadn’t happened then, I would’ve found myself waiting in a damn line, because the girls are all over him!”

“Which is a new experience for me, believe me. Not that I’m not flattered, understand, but Livvie and I really love one another.”

Ben grinned, then softly asked, “Are you two sleeping together? And if the answer is yes, are you being careful?”

I left that one for Livvie to decide how to answer. She went with the truth. “Yes and yes,” she told her father, looking right at him. “Please understand, Dad, that Eddie was not my first.”

“Nor was she mine,” I said. 

“Yeah, but you did it out of love.”

“Except for Christine, but we won’t get into that fiasco,” I said with a grimace.

“Yes, let’s not,” Livvie laughed. “Anyhow, Dad, I slept with my other boyfriends to keep them around. I knew I didn’t have to do that with Eddie. We made love because we wanted to.”

“I have no right to tell you what to do or what not to do, but if you’re being careful, that’s reassurance enough,” Ben told her.

“Very careful,” I reiterated. “Believe me, I’d rather wait until after I get my ass through medical school before I have to worry about offspring.”

“Good plan,” Ben chuckled. “But if an accident happened, you wouldn’t be the one who had to worry about it.”

“Yes, I would,” I said definitively. Livvie, I think, knew me well enough to know that’s how I felt about it, but she still gave me a big beaming smile. Ben, for his part--well, that was the absolute best thing I could’ve ever said to reassure him about my relationship with his daughter, and I saw that on his face immediately. 

“Good,” he said contentedly. “Now, what’s with the hair?”

Livvie laughed. “You mean, besides the fact that it’s gorgeous and that I’ve told him if he cuts it I’ll kill him?”

Ben and I both laughed. “Oh, is that how it is?” Ben said.

“Partially,” I said. “Look, what she said is right. I really am a nerd. She’s told you about my grades, and these stupid things don’t help,” I said, poking at my glasses. “I got hassled a lot, right up through eighth grade. I started getting myself in shape, which stopped the beatings I was getting.”

“Beatings?” Ben asked.

“He was a punching bag,” Livvie said sadly. “I saw some of it a little, and Beth told me it was really bad in seventh grade.”

“Right,” I said. “In eighth grade, I got myself in shape which helped to stop that crap. And that’s when Kara and I started dating the first time, which helped my image a little bit--especially since Kara told a whole bunch of people we slept together. I didn’t say a word, except to Beth--I told Beth everything--but Kara spilled the beans. Losing my virginity before all the people who thought I was a nerd helped my image, which is why Kara told.”

“That’ll do it,” Ben laughed. “Especially when the info comes from the girl.”

“Right. But I’m still more nerd than not. Like I said, the glasses don’t help--and I prefer to dress the way you see me now, which is fairly preppy. But I’m also in the most popular rock band at Cabot High. That is what I want people to think of when they see me walking down the hall. And I can’t carry a guitar around school, so I grew my hair. Makes people see me as the rock guy, not the nerd.”

“I get it,” Ben said. “The whole band have hair like that?”

“Dave, our drummer, always did,” I said. “Stan, the lead guitarist, his is a bit shorter than mine, but not short. Kenny, the piano player, has medium-length hair. His girlfriend’s parents are rather strict--I think he keeps it respectable for their sake! And the girls all have long hair. Though Debbie wears hers up a lot.”

“And then there’s Michelle,” Livvie said with a laugh. 

“Oh, God,” I laughed with her. “Jekyll and Hyde.”

Ben just looked at us questioningly. “Michelle’s as much of a nerd as he is,” Livvie said, pointing to me. “She’s beautiful, and, well, she’s......”

“Well-endowed?” I said.

“Yeah, that,” Livvie laughed. “But in school, she’s a complete preppy. She’s ranked third in the class, too, so it’s no act. She’s a smart hands-off pristine preppy in school. But on stage? She dresses like a complete slut.”

“It’s the funniest thing you ever saw,” I told him. “The first gig, I walked backstage and saw her wearing this complete out-there get-up. I almost swallowed my tongue.” 

“I think Stan did,” Livvie laughed. 

“Then again, she was dressed very similarly,” I said, pointing to Livvie, “which was a complete shock. I forgot about Michelle very quickly.”

“You didn’t have to tell him that!” Livvie said in mock-dismay.

“You should’ve worn that outfit here,” I said. 

“Right. You ever notice that I never wear that outfit if I’m going somewhere I know that I have to sit down in public?”

“Good point,” I laughed. Ben just looked at us. Livvie covered her face, but I kept it up. “When she sits down in that skirt, you can tell what color her panties are.”

“You are horrible!” she said, whacking me on the arm. 

“It is, of course, my favorite skirt,” I kept up.

Ben just cracked up. “Hey, you guys are seventeen years old,” he said. “None of this surprises me, OK? And I can tell how you feel about one another.”

Livvie and I smiled at one another. “Yeah, we do,” I said. “But she’s the only one seventeen. I’m only sixteen.”

“He’s, like, eight months younger than I am,” Livvie laughed. “You always date older women!”

“Maybe that’s because I keep meeting older women, considering I’m the youngest person in our class,” I laughed. “I started school a year early,” I told Ben. “I won’t be seventeen until January. I just got my driver’s license, she’s had hers since December.”

“Started school a year early, and you’re ranked second? That’s even more impressive.”

I just blushed. Livvie laughed and said, “Now you know why I’m going out with him. Homework help!”

“Yeah, right,” I snorted. 

Ben just laughed. Just then, the food came. We ate, and chatted easily throughout the meal. 

SEPTEMBER 9th, 1981

The first day of our senior year in high school. And I actually drove to school--halleluiah. Even though Livvie had her own car, I picked her up and we drove to school together. Made me feel like a real boyfriend and all!

Luckily, this was before the lawmakers in MA got all panicky about teen driving. Before I came back, there was this stupid law that a driver under 18 couldn’t have another driver under 18 in the car, or something like that. I forget exactly what it said, but it restricted underage passengers in a car driven by a young driver. Sure, it was routinely ignored--I worked with teenagers and, believe me, it was ignored--but it was still stupid. Another ‘penalize everyone to get at the few miscreants’ law. I hated that shit. Remember back in school sometimes, there’d be a few kids acting up, and the teacher would penalize the whole class? Oh, that drove me nuts. Any teacher that did that--well, you were saying to me you were a shitty teacher who couldn’t properly control your class. Laws doing the same thing piss me off just the same. 

Look, I drove like a nun. That was true the first time around, as well. They say that teenagers are reckless because they don’t have a handle on their own mortality. Well, such a bromide does not apply when you’ve been whacked upside the head by your best friend’s mortality. I was a good, careful driver. Although I wasn’t adverse to lighting up a doobie or quaffing a rum-and-coke, I never touched anything if I was driving. I knew better. So, I was glad I didn’t, in 1981, have to deal with any stupid panicky ‘all teenagers are evil’ laws. I happily drove Livvie to school. 

I was happy to be a senior. Especially this time around. Seniors are supposed to ‘rule the school’--well, that became a lot more true when you were in the most popular band in school! We really did rule the place. It was fun. 

I didn’t have to worry about the SATs, like so many of my peers, what with the 1600 I’d already gotten last spring. I know, you’re thinking that was cheating, what with all the prior-life experience. Well, only a little. The first time around, I had gotten 1360 as a junior. So, the improvement was only a little. I didn’t retake them as a senior last time around either. 

I did have to worry about college applications--though I was thinking I was going to apply Early Decision to BC. That’s where I wanted to go. A few of us wanted to go there--not only Livvie, but Michelle and Debbie both wanted to go there, as did Kenny. Michelle could probably go Ivy League--so, for that matter, could I--but neither of us wanted to. “Harvard?” Michelle had said to me. “No, thanks. Too snobby for me.” I agreed. 

Everyone in the band was talking Boston area for college. Stan joked that, “I’ll probably end up at Salem State,” though he was really talking about Framingham State, which was close enough to Boston to keep the band together. Dave and Karen were deciding between BU and Northeastern. 

It wasn’t going to be a breeze senior year for me, however. I did want salutatorian. And I wasn’t taking easy courses, either--I had three Advanced Placement courses. I was taking AP Calculus, Chemistry, and English Comp. You see, I had a plan.

I knew what I wanted to do. I was going pre-med, but I was going to major in Psychology. That’s right, I was thinking psychiatrist. The problem was, when you go pre-med but don’t major in a hard science, there were a lot of courses you had to take. I mean, when I was pre-med the first time around, I’d majored in Biology. Most of the required pre-med courses also counted for the Bio major. That’s not the case if you major in something like Psychology. It was almost like a double-major. Plus, there was all the general-type courses required by any college for a degree.  It was a lot of courses to take. 

The way Advanced Placement classes worked was this: they were supposed to be the equivalent of college courses. At the end, there was an AP exam for each course. If you got a certain score on the exam, most colleges would give you credit for the relevant course--you were counted as taking it already. And I’d checked, and BC did accept AP credits. So, if I could test out of three things based on the AP tests, it would make my life a lot easier. Calculus was the one I worried about. I didn’t ‘get’ Calculus the first time around! But it was also the one I really didn’t want to have to worry about in college, in the middle of Psych courses and Organic Chemistry and all that. So I decided to give it a shot. I felt pretty confident, however, about the other two. Calculus was really the only gamble, so it was worth it. 

So, that’s what my senior year looked like. Even considering I went to a harder school the first time, I don’t remember being this busy! Well, I wasn’t in a band back then. And I didn’t have a girlfriend, either. 

We were talking about it as we met for lunch. Especially Michelle and I, as Michelle was also taking three AP classes. “At least, for me, band practice is a chance to see my boyfriend,” she giggled.

“Well, me too,” I said. “When doesn’t Livvie show up for practice? Very rarely.”

“I’m just a lovesick puppy following him around,” she laughed. 

“We’re not going to need the practice, what with all these gigs,” Stan laughed. “Parties. The Halloween dance here again. A dance over at Cardinal Steen in a month.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” I said. “I have friends at Cardinal Steen.”

“Yeah, and they really want to see you guys play,” Olivia put in. 

“And my brother’s trying to get us a gig over at the Junior High for once of the dances,” I interjected.

“This keeps up, we’re going to have to stop these lunchtime chats--I’m going to need the time to study!” Michelle said, cracking us all up.

OCTOBER 24th, 1981

I hadn’t been kidding about being busy. The first month and a half of school passed in a flash. Between studying and gigs and everything else, it seemed like I couldn’t get a minute to breathe. I didn’t mind, though.

I did manage to make time for Olivia. I was with her on this day, a Saturday. We were just hanging out over at my house.

She’d been troubled, I knew that. Look, I understood. She was still there living with her mother--a mother she decided she’d never have any kind of normal loving relationship with. She’d told me a while back, “Even when she tries to explain, it’s all about her, her, her. Doesn’t care about anyone else. And I don’t mean just me--she didn’t care about her husband, or my father, or my brothers. None of us. She keeps trying to justify it by talking about how she was affected. I don’t even want to listen anymore.”

What that meant was that I was her oasis. One of her few. She had a few others--her brothers had been great since the bombshell had been dropped. And she really did get along great with the rest of the band--in fact, she’d worked up a genuine friendship with Debbie, to the point of going out shopping together and all, sometimes including Michelle as well. 

But I was her main anchor. Well, the one that wasn’t a thousand miles away.

She talked to Ben, her father, on the phone every few days. They were really developing a relationship, which I was happy about. And Livvie had something to ask me about that relationship.

After a bit of small talk and a not inconsiderable amount of kissing, Livvie got it out. “Dad asked me something on the phone last night.” 

“Oh?”

“He wants me to go out there for Thanksgiving. He’s going to pay for the plane ticket. He wants me to meet my stepmother--and my brother and sister. I want to go. I want to see him again--and I think it’s great that I have a 10-year-old sister and I really want to meet her, and my brother.” She looked at me sideways. “Is that OK with you?”

“Of course. I think it’s great. Why wouldn’t it be OK with me?”

“Well, I won’t be here for almost a week, and over a holiday.”

“I know. I’m not saying I won’t miss you,” I smiled at her. “But I understand why you want to go and I think you should.”

“Oh, thank you!” she yelped, hugging me. “I was worried you’d be upset.”

“Nah. Look, you have a father now, one that wants a relationship with you. You should have that. Besides which, you know you’d be spending half that weekend just watching us play, anyway.”

“True,” she laughed. It was--we had gigs, parties, both the Friday and Saturday nights of Thanksgiving weekend. “Not that I don’t love watching you play. But I’m glad you’re not mad I’m going to see my father.”

“Of course not. I’m happy for you,” I told her truthfully. She hummed happily and settled into my arms.We chatted for a while, and then I told her, “You know, I have something for you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Let me go get it.” I had it stashed in my room. I came down and gave it to her. She took off the wrapping paper, opened the box, and gasped. It was a gold necklace. Nothing too elaborate, but very nice and classy.

“What’s this for?” she got out in a half-whisper.

“You don’t know? I thought girls always kept track of that kind of thing,” I said, bemused. She just looked at me. “Honey, it’s a year tomorrow.” That we’d been going out, I meant. 

“Oh, God, you remembered?”

“Of course I remembered,” I smiled. “Hey, I’ve never made it to a year with anyone before, so it’s a momentous occasion.” Which was true--in this life, anyway. Though Kara and I had gone out for more than a year total, it wasn’t consecutive. 

“Me, neither. Going with someone a year, I mean,” she sniffled. She looked down at the necklace. “Put it on?”

“My pleasure,” I grinned. 

I put it on, then I got a bear hug and a heart-stopping kiss for my trouble. And, later on, when we were alone, I got very handsomely rewarded. I must say, it’s a special thrill to be making love with your naked girlfriend, when she’s actually naked except for the necklace you just put around her neck! 

NOVEMBER 27th, 1981

The day after Thanksgiving. Another day, another gig. A house party. Don’t ask me whose house--Kenny arranged all the details on this one. We were at the point where we were getting hired for gigs by people we barely knew, which was cool. 

We’d gotten all set up and tuned and everything, and had an hour or so to spare  I was just kind of hanging around--with no Livvie to keep me occupied pre-gig, I was sort of at loose ends. I was sitting on the side of the stage, chatting a bit with Kenny and his girlfriend Lisa. Then someone plopped down next to me. It was my old grammar school pal, Danica Rosen.

“Eddie! You guys are playing here? Wicked pissah!” 

I had to stifle the giggle. “Wicked pissah” was a common bit of early-eighties teenaged Boston slang that I don’t think I’d heard since, well, the early eighties. The first time around! As you might have guessed, it roughly translated as “What a most excellent development!” 

Anyhow, Danica settled down next to me for a little chat. Not surprisingly, the first thing she asked me was, “So, where’s Livvie?” I explained that, and then we just chatted about nothing in general.

I knew she was still good friends with Kelly, so I’m not surprised she came up in the coversation. “She’s OK,” Danica told me, “but you re-emphasized what a nice guy she managed to let go of.”

“When I stuck up with her with Jim Samuels.”

“Right.”

“Wasn’t all about her, though,” I said. “That asshole put Debbie through the wringer Sophomore year.”

“I know, but you guys did the deed in the aftermath of him screwing over Kelly, so Kelly appreciated it.”

“That’s good.”

Danica looked past us, to where Deb was working her magic with yet another guy. “As for her,” she said, pointing at Deb, “I know she’s your friend, but, damn--it drives me crazy.”

“What?”

“How she scoops up all the guys.”

“So, go scoop some up yourself,” I laughed. “Come on, Dani, you could. I know Debbie’s got bigger tits than you do, but, outside of that, she’s got nothing on you--you’re damn pretty.”

Dani cracked up. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here listening to you compare tits. You used to be so shy.” I just shrugged and grinned at her. “Anyhow, thank you for saying I’m pretty. But, besides the tits, she’s got another advantage.”

“What’s that?”

“You know what. I’m no prude, and I lost my virginity when I was going out with Nick Adams last year, but I don’t give it away to all comers like she does. I have to be in love. Or at least capable of convincing myself I am.”

“Ah, Nick raked you over the coals?”

“Sort of. It just wasn’t what I thought it was. Hey, no regrets--I slept with him willingly and I don’t regret it. But I’m not like Debbie. So I can’t advertise like she does.”

“Debbie’s not what you think she is,” I maintained. 

“Right. Look at her with that guy over there. You mean to tell me he’s not gonna get laid tonight?”

“Tonight? Nope. He’ll get a good make-out session, for sure. And, I won’t lie to you, if he plays his cards right, he’ll get laid in three dates or so. But Debbie doesn’t sleep with everyone.” 

“That’s her reputation.”

“Yeah, and that was partially created by Jim Samuels.”

“OK, good point,” Dani conceded. “But don’t you think her reputation, true or not, helps her to pick up guys?”

“Maybe, to a point, but that’s not the big thing,” I maintained. 

“Then what is the big thing?”

“Look at her,” I said, pointing to Deb. “She went up to the guy, not the other way around. That’s rare.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it. Have you ever asked a guy out?”

“Well, no.”

“You see? Debbie doesn’t wait around. She asks.”

“Asking is scary,” Dani admitted.

“Right. And us guys have to do the vast majority of the asking. And, believe me, it gets to be a pain in the ass. Because it is scary. I remember asking Kara out, I thought I was going to pee my pants.”

“I believe it,” she laughed. “But don’t guys expect to do the asking?”

“Expect, maybe, but not enjoy. I’ve been asked. It was wonderful.”

“Livvie?”

“Nope, Livvie agonized about it for months--typical girl.” Dani managed to laugh at that. “Debbie tipped me off, but I still did the asking. Nope, it was Kelly.”

“Kelly asked you out?”

“Yep.”

“And it didn’t bother you?”

“Not at all, I loved it. 

“So, you think that’s a lot of Debbie’s appeal? That she asks?”

“Yep. Let me ask you something. You got your eye on someone?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You can keep a secret?”

“You know I can,” I grinned at her.

“True,” she grinned back. “Ben Askel.”

“Nice guy, from what I know. What’s your relationship at the moment? Friends, acquaintances, he doesn’t know you’re alive--what?”

She laughed. “Well, somewhere between acquaintances and friends. We have a couple classes together this year. We talk sometimes. Nothing major.”

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re interested.”

“You’d be guessing right, as far as I know.”

“He just walked in, you know.”

“You’re kidding!” she gasped. She looked around and spotted him, saying hello to someone right near the door. “Oh, shit.”

“No, Dani, listen to me--this is perfect. It’s the perfect setting, because you don’t have to ask him out. All you have to do is ask him to dance.”

“You think?”

“I know. It’s perfect. You ask him to dance, and then wait for a slow dance.  And when you’re dancing, just cuddle up. He’ll get the message--and, you’ll find out pretty damn quick if he’s also interested.”

“And you don’t think he’ll mind being asked to dance?”

“I guarantee it. Now, you’ll no doubt shock the shit out of him. But he won’t mind. Well, unless he’s completely unattracted to you, but then at least you’ll know. Or, if he has a girlfriend.”

“He doesn’t, I know that much.” She let out a nervous giggle. “I don’t know if I can do it, though.”

Lisa, who had been right near me talking to Kenny, was looking at us. She walked over to me and said, “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Danica Rosen, I’ve known her since first grade,” I said, grinning at Dani. “Dani, this is Lisa, Kenny’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lisa said. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I approached Kenny, you know.”

“You did?” Dani said.

“Yeah. I met him at a party where these guys were playing. I parked myself over next to his piano and didn’t leave all night,” she laughed. “And, though I didn’t ask him out, I did make sure he got my phone number. Then he asked me out.”

“Wow,” Dani said. “You guys really think I should go for it?”

“What have you got to lose?” I said. Lisa nodded agreement. “I’ll even give you the heads-up. We play four fast songs to start with. The last of the four is ‘Here Comes My Girl’. Then there’s two slow songs, starting with ‘Allison’. So, there’s your marching orders.” 

“Uh-huh,” Dani giggled. “If you see me running for the bathroom during ‘Here Comes My Girl’, you know I chickened out.”

“Then I’ll just make sure Lisa bars your way to the bathroom,” I said. Both Lisa and Dani cracked up.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Eddie,” Dani said. 

“Anytime.”

Dani had seen us play a number of times, so she knew when “Here Comes My Girl” was coming to an end. When we got to the final chorus, I caught her eye. She gave me a grin, and then marched right over to Ben Askel. Good for her. I could see the surprise on his face, but Dani had no problem leading him to the dance floor just as we started “Allison”. 

By the time we were midway through the second set, playing “Sara”, you couldn’t have wedged a piece of paper between Dani and Ben’s dancing bodies! While I was strumming away on the guitar part, I looked over to the side of the stage and caught Lisa’s eye. I pointed with my head towards Dani and Ben. Lisa looked at them, then looked back at me with a big thumbs-up!

DECEMBER 12, 1981

This was a Saturday, and I was with Livvie.

Things had been weird since Thanksgiving. Outwardly, she seemed fine. She told me she had a great time with her father, and loved her step-mother and her brother and sister. 

But she was weird. One day, she was all over me. The next day, she was distant. And on and on. And she just seemed very, very preoccupied. 

I’d asked her a few times if anything was wrong. She kept telling me no, nothing’s wrong.

Today, she finally decided to tell me what was wrong.

We’d just made love in her bed. We were sitting there cuddling. And it was the same thing--she’d been all over me, but now, afterwards, she was distant. 

“I have something to tell you,” she said. 

“OK.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’ve been trying to tell you this for three weeks. I haven’t known how to do it. But you have to know, and I have to just get it over with.”

I sat there, holding my breath, knowing this wasn’t going to be good. I was right.

“When I was out with my Dad, I made a decision. I made a decision about colleges. I’m not going to go to BC.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked, knowing the answer.

I was right. She looked at me with a sad look in her eyes and said, “Eddie, I’ve decided to go to Eastern Michigan, where my Dad teaches.”

Eastern Michigan. A thousand fucking miles away.

Shit.