Inside my chest, where my heart has been aching since she’s been gone, my heart skitters. Yes, I think she loves me too. I know she does. I saw it in her eyes when we were together. Felt it whenever she touched me, or we were tangled up in one another making love.
We fell in love at the top of the world so that’s where I am going.
Before nightfall, her friends, her band, me and Felix, we’ve made the rounds of Pine Grove. We’ve asked in every single shop, stopped at every single diner or pub, and we’ve even hit the mall. Now the entire town is once again talking about our summer romance. They can keep talking.
Because this is no summer fling—this is the real thing, and I am grabbing hold of it with both hands.
At the fairgrounds the end of summer fair is in full swing. Whispers of Debi and Devin roll through the crowds. I guess if she did not want to be famous, she should not have dated a desperate man like me. If she gets famous for our much-talked-about romance instead of Purple Hearts, I hope she can forgive me.
“We’re set up, doing soundcheck,” her drummer tells me, his floppy dark hair hiding half of his face. “Debi will show, dude. Never bailed on us before, she won’t do it now.”
Nodding, I pace behind the stage, unsure if that is true. This whole thing changed her. It scared her. Rattled her to her core. I am just as new to being in love as she is. I did not come here to settle down, but there is no way I am leaving. Not now, not that I have found what I was looking for.
I told myself I wanted a place where I could teach, where I could see raising my children, settling down. I was not looking for that in Pine Grove. I was looking for a good time for a short time. Now, I don’t want to be anywhere else. I am not going back to Baton Rouge. My place is here.
“Hey, before...before you guys start, can I have a minute with the mic?”
Nodding at me, the drummer smiles as he hands me the live mic. I am shaking as I take the few steps to the small stage. Dozens of folks have come to watch their show. I suspect some might be here just to see what unfolds between Debi and I next. I am anxious as hell as I step out to give a preview.
“Hello Pine Grove,” I call into the mic, wincing as feedback screeches before they fix it fast. “I am Devin Akers. You might know me from my desperate attempts at courting Debi Hollis. I made the rounds of the town all summer. First to find out all I could about her. It got the town talking about this sweet summer romance,” I explain, pausing as the crowd applauds.
“Debi is not a summer romance for me. Debi is...well, she is a rock star. The best friend you could ask for. An amazing artist. A wonderful woman. I never expected to find her right here, at this very fair at the start of summer. Am I ever glad I did. You call it a summer romance, but it’s much more. I am going to be here this fall with her, I will be here for your awful winters,” I pause again as that gets some laughs. “I will be here next spring for your famous Apple Fest, looking forward to it. This is my home now. Because Debi is my home. I love her and I hope to get a chance to tell her that tonight, right here at the same fair we met at. Thank you to all of you for talking about us, for cheering us on, and for letting our summer romance happen.”
As the crowd erupts, I step back in surprise. Turning, I almost drop it from my trembling hand. There is my rock star. Debi stands at the edge of the stage with a huge smile on her beautiful face. It is my smile. That little one that grows bigger and bigger as she wears it. Before I can say a word, she runs across the stage, and I bend to catch her as she leaps.
For a moment it is just like a movie. I crush my mouth to hers as she wraps herself around me, both of us clutching each other tight. That sends the crowd into an uproar, and I laugh against her mouth. Staring down at me with her pretty gray eyes, she has tears in them, but she is still smiling.
“Hey, teach,” she whispers as I set her down but refuse to let her go. “I hated speech class in high school but that there was one hell of a speech.”
“Glad you caught it all, rockstar,” I whisper against her lips. “I have been looking for you all over town for days. Let’s not do that again, yeah? We had the whole town talking about our summer romance.”
“Yeah well they can keep talking. About our fall romance. Winter romance. Springtime romance. We’ll let them talk all they want.”
“Yeah? You think you want to have a boring old teacher as a boyfriend, rockstar?”
“What boring ass teacher? I want the speech giving, taking a risk on the rockstar, dirty talking in bed teacher. That is the man I love. I love you, Devin. I love you and I had no idea what to do with that, so I ran. I won’t do it again. Because you were right. I am not her. I am me.”
“Yes, you’re you. My sweet music teacher, my gentle best friend, my totally metal rock star. I love you too, Debi. I love you so much, whether you’re onstage or in a classroom, or on the Ferris wheel at the top of the world, I will love you. This is how we do love, baby. We will learn about it together, yeah?”
“Yes. Yes, we will. About that top of the world thing,” she glances out at the crowd, backing far from the mic as she presses her mouth to my ear. “Before we leave this fair tonight, I am going to fuck you on that Ferris wheel, teach. Go get us some tickets while I play rockstar.”
Before I do just that, I kiss her hard, to the applause of the crowd watching. I am still a little nervous, not just laying our relationship bare in front of the whole town, but about getting on that ride later, and getting this romance thing right with her. Like I said, we will learn how to do it together.
Letting her take center stage to be a rock star, I rush off to the ticket booth because, yeah, we’re going back to top of the world tonight.
Epilogue
Debi
One year later...
Being a teacher is not glamorous at all.
It is still the most rewarding thing I will ever do. Well, almost, but more on that after I finish this impossible test about writing lesson plans. Sitting in a classroom with other teachers-to-be, my thoughts stay scattered. It is an important test and one of my last finals this semester.
Because I had some classes done before I struck out to be a rock star on tour, I am closer to becoming a teacher than some of my peers. I still have a few years to go, but I am looking forward to it. Learning is my new favorite thing. I still write songs all over my notebooks meant for classes, and I still play with my band on the weekends anywhere they will let us play. Now I am more than rock star Debi.
Soon, I will be Ms. Hollis, music teacher. Just thinking about having my own class where I will teach students to love music the way I do, to use it to express their pain, their grief, and their triumphs, fills more of the emptiness I used to know. It’s overflowing now because I am living a wicked good life.
