The Duet (17 page)

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try harder,” I said, not opening my eyes, but my words were hollow, not sincere at all. The truth was, I didn’t want to put anything of myself into that song. I wasn’t sure it was wise.

“Maybe if we just record our parts separately, we can give Cooper what he wants and be done with this.” I opened my eyes in shock. It was Jay who was standing in front of me. He was smoking, something he rarely did, and looking out toward the road, avoiding my gaze.

His suggestion made perfect sense, but I tensed up all the same. If I had been the one to bring it up, then I would have been okay with it, but hearing Jay say it…

“Whatever,” I muttered, resuming my original position against the wall. “If that’s what you need to get through it, then fine.”

“It’s not me who’s trying to ‘get through this’. I don’t have a problem being in the same room with you, and my part is spot on. You’re the one holding everyone up.”

Okay, now it was on. “Really? This is all my fault? I didn’t even want to record this stupid song! Your band is the one with the contract. Why don’t you find some other singer to do this duet, or better yet – cut the whole fucking song out, for all I care.”

“The contract is based on the recording and release of this single,” Cooper walked over to join us. “And the stipulation is that you two have to be the ones to sing it.” He lit up a cigarette and waved his hand around. “I wish you two would just sleep together and get it over with. I can’t handle this crap anymore.”

Jay cleared his throat, but I spoke before he got the chance. “We want to record our tracks separately. I know it will be more work for you, but I bet we get it done today.”

Cooper looked from me to Jay, then back to me. He searched my face, but I wasn’t giving away anything. He had always known how I felt about Jay, but as a loyal friend, he’d never held it over my head or embarrassed me in front of Jay, until now.

“Fine. Izzy, you’re up first. Jay, go take a walk and be back here in an hour.”

Jay tossed down his cigarette and nodded, and I followed Cooper inside.

25

Jay was looking forward to a quiet night of solitude. He’d been at the studio since ten that morning, and with time running short, Cooper and Chad had ridden the band hard. His fingers were cramping from playing for hours without a break, and his head was hurting from all the tension. Cooper had gone somewhere with Trisha, and Jay prayed they would be staying at her place tonight. He craved the quiet.

He had just gotten out of the shower and settled down on the couch with his notebook by his side and a late night marathon of Law and Order playing softly on the TV for background noise, when there was a loud, insistent knock on the door. He briefly considered answering it, then punched his pillow a couple times to get more comfortable, and laid back down, turning the volume up on the TV. He heard a key in the lock. Good, Cooper found his keys and Jay didn’t have to get up.

Only it wasn’t Cooper, it was his other long lost roommate, and she didn’t look happy.

Izzy stood over him, all decked out in a purple mini skirt, black tights and boots, a powder blue t-shirt that said Peace across the front, and plaid suspenders hanging on her hips. Her jet black hair was arranged artfully on top of her head with two sticks poking out. She was shivering and having trouble standing upright.

He sat up a little. He could smell the rum on her breath from his spot on the couch. So much for a peaceful night.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, hands snapping to her hips and eyes nailing him with a look of utter fury. “Why don’t you like me, Jay?”

“Who said I don’t like you?” Jay stood up, careful to keep enough space between them. He felt like he was in third grade, having this conversation.

Izzy took a few steps until her chest was pressed against him. “I mean, why don’t you want me?”

His breath was steady, but he was feeling anything but. He took her by the arms and gently pushed her back. He needed some distance. “Izzy, sleep it off. You don’t want to do this right now.” He started to walk by her, but she grabbed his arm.

“What if I do want to do this right now?” She raised her eyebrows, and in her inebriated state, it was almost comical. “Come on, Jay, play with me. I promise I won’t get all clingy and expect you to call me after. I just want…”

Jay stopped all reasonable thinking, as his blood had completely departed his brain and traveled to another part of his body. He grabbed her face and crushed his lips to hers, knocking the breath out of her. Her body felt tiny against his own, and that only made him harder. She leaned against him, letting him ravage her mouth and giving it back just as good. She tasted so good – dark and delicious – like rum and spearmint and something sweet and altogether indefinable that could only be Izzy.

His hands moved up into her hair, and he pulled out the sticks until it fell loosely down around her shoulders. He tilted his head, making the kiss even deeper; he couldn’t get close enough, fast enough; the distance he’d needed just moments before was long forgotten. He pulled her hips up against him, and she let out a soft moan. His brain was fighting a losing battle against his body. Somewhere, just out of his reach, was the voice of reason. There was something nagging at him, something he should pay attention to, but whatever it was, it was quickly eluding him. All he could think about was Izzy and the way she felt against him.

There was a ringing sound in the distance, barely penetrating Jay’s brain, since Izzy had just unbuttoned his jeans and now had her hands on his skin underneath his shirt. The ringing continued, becoming more and more persistent, until it was impossible to ignore. Jay reluctantly pulled away, trying to place the sound. The fog in his brain cleared as he watched his incessant phone vibrating on the coffee table, indicating he had messages.

Like a giant helium balloon that had been happily soaring into the sky and shot down suddenly, Jay deflated and drifted down to earth. He swore under his breath. Izzy still stood close to him, breathing heavily, but also aware that the air had changed.

“This is a bad idea. I’m sorry.” It was the lamest thing he’d ever said. Even he didn’t believe it. But the sensible side of him knew that it was true. He got carried away; it wouldn’t happen again.

“Are you kidding me?” Izzy was furious, and he couldn’t blame her.

“I’ll get you a blanket. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.” He disappeared down the hall, and emerged with a blanket, ducking just in time to miss getting hit in the head with his flying notebook.

“You’re an asshole, Jay Archer, you know that?”

He calmly picked up his notebook and looked at her. “Yes, I do know that.”

“Cooper’s right, you know. We need to sleep together to get this out of our system. Then we can go on to lead normal lives.”

Jay flew around the couch to where she was standing. He took her by the shoulders, spun her around so her back was to him, and started to walk her into her bedroom. Most of her stuff was still in there, though she hadn’t slept there in weeks. She melted into him a little and he realized what she thought, so he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders to let her know he wasn’t planning on joining her in bed. She turned around and tried to slap him, but he caught her arm before she made contact. She flailed and cursed at him – her vocabulary getting more and more colorful as she went on – and finally he just picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously on the couch, tossing the blanket over her.

He walked in his room and slammed the door shut, more shaken than he’d ever been. God, how stupid could he be? But if Izzy really thought that sleeping together would end this thing between them, then maybe he wasn’t the dumbest person in the room after all.

26

I woke up with a crick in my neck, and the mother of all headaches. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, looking around. Confusion over where I was led to absolute mortification, which quickly turned to a burning rage.

Jay. That son of a bitch. Getting me all worked up into a gooey mess, then throwing the proverbial bucket of ice water in my face.

I threw off the blanket, which had gotten all twisted around my legs during my fitful night of sleep, and got up to go confront that spiteful rotten little tease. But the apartment was empty.

I fumbled through the bathroom cabinet for some aspirin, gulped down a tall glass of water, then jumped in the shower. When I got out, Jay still wasn’t home. So, I did what any normal jilted girl would do in my situation; I went for a little snoop.

I knew it was all sorts of wrong to read his notebooks; private words that weren’t meant to be seen by mine or anyone else’s eyes. But I risked eternal damnation of my evil soul in order to find out what in the hell was in that man’s head. I had to know.

I started with the book on his nightstand. It was the same one he’d had with him on the couch last night when I’d barged in like a crazy person, interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. Flipping to the last page, I half hoped to read something about me – about what had happened last night – but there was nothing. There were some sketches of random things, some looked more like doodles he’d drawn while his mind was elsewhere. And there were lyrics, tons of lyrics, some beautiful and some tormented. But there were no journal entries or thoughts or confessions.

I tossed that one aside; I was on a mission now. Looking under his bed, I pulled out a stack of notebooks, all spiral bound, all different sizes and all with writing on every single page. I found a few entries with dates, glanced over them, until I found one entry from a few weeks ago that made my pulse beat double time, and my hands grow clammy.

Cooper’s guilt is eating at me. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, tried to tell him he can just stop feeling responsible already, but he denies it every time. This has gone on for too long. I did what any friend would do, and I would do it again if I had to relive it all. My brief stint in rehab was a small price to pay. He thinks my time there really messed with my head, but the truth is, I was messed up long before that. I think in some twisted way it was the reason he tricked me into singing that song, and it’s why he’s pushing me into this whole recording thing. I’ll play along because it eases his guilt, and because I think Izzy deserves to have her talent heard, but I hate every minute of it.

I heard a key in the door and shoved the pile of notebooks back out of sight. I made it to the living room just as Jay let himself in, laden with coffee and a bakery bag.

He looked up when he saw me standing there and gestured toward the kitchen. I followed silently and sat down, one leg curled underneath me. I was wearing one of his sweatshirts. The sleeves were frayed and pushed up on my arms, and the bottom fell almost to the hemline of my skirt, which I wore sans the tights.

“Nice shirt,” he mumbled around a mouthful of donut.

We ate and drank coffee in silence. It was uncomfortable, yet comforting at the same time, sitting with him in such a domestic setting. But I was still angry with him, and now I wanted answers about what I had just read.

“What is it that you did for Cooper that makes him feel guilty?” I asked, slicing through the silence like a ginsu knife through a tomato.

He stopped chewing. “What?”

“Cooper. What did he do that has him eaten up with guilt?”

“You were reading my notebooks,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I nodded. “Are you mad?”

He hesitated, took a long swig of coffee, then looked right at me. “No.”

“Can you tell me what happened then?”

Jay stood up and put his hands on the counter, his back to me. For a moment I didn’t think he would answer me, but then he turned and started talking.

“It has to do with the night I got arrested. Cooper asked me to go with him to this field. He was supposed to meet these guys that were going to buy off the rest of his stash. He’d been dealing dope for a while, but he’d had a few close calls, and his contact was pushing for him to take on more. He wanted out.”

He paused long enough for me to ask a question, but I had a lot of questions, and I didn’t want him to leave out any of the story. I sat quietly and let him continue.

“We waited at the field for two hours, but they never showed. We sat in the car, drinking beers and getting stupid. I saw the cop cars from a distance, and I only had a second to react. Cooper had dozed off in the driver’s seat…”

“Wait, Cooper was driving that night?”

Jay nodded and kept going. “He’d been in trouble before. He already had a record, and he had drunk way more than me. I knew if they caught him, he’d be toast. And I knew he’d break his mother’s heart.”

“So you took the blame? You just let everyone think that the drugs were yours, and Cooper let you?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Jay said defensively. “He wanted to come forward later, after I spent the night in jail. But I talked him out of it.”

I shook my head, trying to process. Jay was silent for a long time, deep in thought. He leaned back against the counter, his arms across his chest. Then he blew out a long breath and looked up at the ceiling and back at me.

“That’s not it,” he said, his voice measured.

“What else?” I was afraid to hear the answer.