Read Online How to Kill a Rock Star by Tiffanie Debartolo - Free Book Online
Authors: Tiffanie Debartolo
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Love Stories, New York (N.Y.), Contemporary Women, Urban Life, Fear of Flying, Rock Musicians, Aircraft Accident Victims' Families, Women Journalists, Roommates
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done on this topic, gentlemen. You could wager a bet and look it up.” Caelum always talks like someone’s dad when he’s high.
Angelo suggested bubble gum as a number one and I told him no one over the age of eight orders bubble gum ice cream.
Then Burke raised his hand like he was in school and asked if maybe we could talk a little more about what happened with How to Kil _internals.rev 2/22/08 4:59 PM Page 54
5Winkle. I immediately suggested we cal it a night but Angelo wouldn’t let the goddamn bubble gum issue die. He claims he orders bubble gum ice cream al the time.
Burke stood up and goes, “Maybe we should at least consider whatever Winkle suggested.”
Angelo jumped on the bandwagon, yel ing, “Yeah. It’s better than nothing.”
The rehearsal space is twelve by twelve, if that. There was no need to yel .
Caelum said yielding to Winkle would mean the end of folding shirts for me, not to mention it would keep him in the band. Or so he thought. The desperation in Michael’s voice made me feel even guiltier, and for the zil ionth time I said I didn’t want to talk about it. My pancreas ached and I had to press on my side to ease the goddamn pain.
“Oh, here he goes,” Angelo said. “Enough with the fucking pancreas.”
“Is a little sympathy too much to ask?” I was looking to be coddled, not mocked.
“Here,” Caelum said, passing me what was left of a joint.
“Here’s a little sympathy.”
At that point I packed up my stuff and came home. This is where it gets interesting.
Al the lights were off when I walked in. The windows were closed and it was so hot it felt like being inside a terrarium. I turned on the light, went to the bathroom to take a piss, and lit a cigarette. Then I went across the hal and knocked on Eliza’s door. Nothing. No “Who is it?” or “Come in” from the other side. I just assumed she wasn’t there and walked in.
She was there, al right. Sitting on her bed, reading. My fan was on her floor, positioned to blow directly on her face, and she was wearing a pink lace bra and matching pink lace underwear.
I said hi and then laughed while she scrambled for the sheet and covered herself up—bad idea. I took this as a sign of weak-How to Kil _internals.rev 2/22/08 4:59 PM Page 55
ness, and exhibiting signs of weakness in front of me, especial y while in a state of near nakedness, was the wrong move. It gave me an advantage.
I sat down on her bed, took off my shoes, and stubbed out my cigarette using the bottom of my left sole. Then I hopped over her, rol ed her extra pil ow into a bal , and lay down, completely ignoring her protests.
“Relax,” I told her. “We’re friends, right?” She said, “We barely know each other.”
“Irrelevant,” I said. “I could real y use a friend right now.” I made her swear a zil ion times that what I was about to say would never leave the room, then I told her the truth about what happened with Winkle. I don’t know why. I guess I thought she might have some insight. I also wanted a reason to stay in her room.
I told her how the worst part was I’d actual y thought about it before I said no. She said nobody would’ve blamed me if I’d said yes, but holy Hel , I would’ve blamed me. I swear to God I’d rather kil myself than give in to those cocksuckers.
I tried to play with the little pearl in her ear but she wasn’t having it. Then, just to get a reaction, I asked her if she always wore bras that matched her underwear, and at first she got al shy, but eventual y she flipped her hair and said yes.
I asked her if yes meant unexceptional y always or once a week. She said it meant every day. She also told me the reason— because she doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on clothes, and this way, even if she has old jeans and a crummy T-shirt on, she stil feels like she looks nice. Like she’s dressed up.
It probably goes without saying that from now on, every time I see her, I’m going to wonder what color
Angelo suggested bubble gum as a number one and I told him no one over the age of eight orders bubble gum ice cream.
Then Burke raised his hand like he was in school and asked if maybe we could talk a little more about what happened with How to Kil _internals.rev 2/22/08 4:59 PM Page 54
5Winkle. I immediately suggested we cal it a night but Angelo wouldn’t let the goddamn bubble gum issue die. He claims he orders bubble gum ice cream al the time.
Burke stood up and goes, “Maybe we should at least consider whatever Winkle suggested.”
Angelo jumped on the bandwagon, yel ing, “Yeah. It’s better than nothing.”
The rehearsal space is twelve by twelve, if that. There was no need to yel .
Caelum said yielding to Winkle would mean the end of folding shirts for me, not to mention it would keep him in the band. Or so he thought. The desperation in Michael’s voice made me feel even guiltier, and for the zil ionth time I said I didn’t want to talk about it. My pancreas ached and I had to press on my side to ease the goddamn pain.
“Oh, here he goes,” Angelo said. “Enough with the fucking pancreas.”
“Is a little sympathy too much to ask?” I was looking to be coddled, not mocked.
“Here,” Caelum said, passing me what was left of a joint.
“Here’s a little sympathy.”
At that point I packed up my stuff and came home. This is where it gets interesting.
Al the lights were off when I walked in. The windows were closed and it was so hot it felt like being inside a terrarium. I turned on the light, went to the bathroom to take a piss, and lit a cigarette. Then I went across the hal and knocked on Eliza’s door. Nothing. No “Who is it?” or “Come in” from the other side. I just assumed she wasn’t there and walked in.
She was there, al right. Sitting on her bed, reading. My fan was on her floor, positioned to blow directly on her face, and she was wearing a pink lace bra and matching pink lace underwear.
I said hi and then laughed while she scrambled for the sheet and covered herself up—bad idea. I took this as a sign of weak-How to Kil _internals.rev 2/22/08 4:59 PM Page 55
ness, and exhibiting signs of weakness in front of me, especial y while in a state of near nakedness, was the wrong move. It gave me an advantage.
I sat down on her bed, took off my shoes, and stubbed out my cigarette using the bottom of my left sole. Then I hopped over her, rol ed her extra pil ow into a bal , and lay down, completely ignoring her protests.
“Relax,” I told her. “We’re friends, right?” She said, “We barely know each other.”
“Irrelevant,” I said. “I could real y use a friend right now.” I made her swear a zil ion times that what I was about to say would never leave the room, then I told her the truth about what happened with Winkle. I don’t know why. I guess I thought she might have some insight. I also wanted a reason to stay in her room.
I told her how the worst part was I’d actual y thought about it before I said no. She said nobody would’ve blamed me if I’d said yes, but holy Hel , I would’ve blamed me. I swear to God I’d rather kil myself than give in to those cocksuckers.
I tried to play with the little pearl in her ear but she wasn’t having it. Then, just to get a reaction, I asked her if she always wore bras that matched her underwear, and at first she got al shy, but eventual y she flipped her hair and said yes.
I asked her if yes meant unexceptional y always or once a week. She said it meant every day. She also told me the reason— because she doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on clothes, and this way, even if she has old jeans and a crummy T-shirt on, she stil feels like she looks nice. Like she’s dressed up.
It probably goes without saying that from now on, every time I see her, I’m going to wonder what color
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