Too Much to Remember

By Jax Resto

Do you remember how it feels to be in like? In love? In deep? Joe Kovak knows all three. In fact, THREE seems to be Joe's unlucky number, as he finds himself navigating through three separate triangles.

Joe is intoxicated by Julie Mai Wan's smile. But, Julie chose his best friend, Pete, something Joe tries to reconcile with daily. Still, when Julie smiles it's like the world goes away, which makes falling out of like with Julie, unthinkable.

Joe hopes Julie's plan to fix him up with one of her friends will be the distraction he needs. But, when Julie's friend turns out to be Kristy Brent, Joe finds himself in another triangle with a girl who already stepped on his heart once, and given the chance, would probably do it again. Still, standing close enough to smell her coconut scented hair is suddenly making falling back in love, unavoidable.
Joe's constant quest, at home, to maintain his status as favorite brother, leads him through another triangle with his two older brothers, Matt, and Kevin. At the heart of the Kovak family, is Police Captain John Kovak. A widower, John must constantly balance the roles of Doting Dad, and hard nosed cop, particularly when it comes to his youngest. Finding himself too often under interrogation by Good Dad/Bad Cop, for being somewhere he's not supposed to be, doing something he's not supposed to do, at times makes Joe's efforts not to end up in deep trouble unattainable.

A must read for anyone who remembers how it feels to be in like, in love, and in deep.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jax Resto
• Release date: Feb 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310970344

Jax Resto

Originally from the Bronx New York, Jax dreamed of a career in performing. But what began as the cliche childhood fantasy of becoming a movie star, quickly took a detour when she landed a job with Ringling Brothers Circus. She started out as a dancing showgirl, but her lust for the spotlight trumped her fear of heights and soon she was performing 30 feet in the air as half of Aerial act Duo Resto. After an 8-year tour, Jax settled in Florida and started a family. Life as a "grownup" led her back to living out fantasies the way she did as a child and teen--through her writing. But her writing, as well as her passion for performing soon led her back to the stage, and another detour. This time she was drummer in an all-female rock band. Eventually, she realized her writing was not restricted to novels, and hooked up with fellow songwriter and musician, Bud Buckley to form BudaRest. Together they wrote a series of songs which technological wizard Susan Burkhart then embedded into Jax's novel Too Much to Remember, creating the first young adult rock ebook. While co-hosting talk show BudaRest Mashup with Buckley, they decided to air excerpts of the book, using teens for the readings. Then Jax took it a step further, adapting the novel to radio theater, casting students from Venice High School. KDWRradio now hosts the only contemporary "old time radio" dramedy series www.kdwradio.com/category/tmtr.

Book preview

My Future...

Still absorbed in the warm sensation of her kiss, I smile and lick my lips. Peppermint. I hear a loud thumping, and laugh when I realize it’s my heart. I haven’t been this excited since last May when my grandfather gave me a motorcycle for my 17th birthday.

It sure feels like spring on this beautiful April night, though in Upstate New York, it’s always hard to tell when winter is really over. We can still get a surprise snow flurry, but tonight it’s warm enough to ride my Cruiser, and love is blooming in the air. What more could a guy ask for?

I glance at my watch, but I’m not wearing it. I know it must be around 1:00 AM, because I just said goodnight to my girlfriend who has to make her 1:30 curfew. I should be getting home, too.

I start toward Main Street, where I parked my bike, then remember I left my jacket at Shenanigans, where I just spent one of the best evenings of my life with the girl of my dreams. I lick my lips again, then smile, hearing her voice in my head. I had a great time, Joe. Yeah, I think, smiling, me, too. Another lick, and I feel my heart start racing again.

I glance at my naked wrist. Roll my eyes, and duck into the alley to take a shortcut back to the club. I beam back to Earth just in time to notice the four large figures coming toward me through the alley....

One

Blind Date

She walks in alone, and I swear there is a theme song playing to her walk. She stands at the counter, waiting on a pickup order. The beautiful Asian girl you were sure existed only in Bruce Lee movies—and your own fantasies: 5’5; long black silky hair; dark brown eyes. Lean with curves that scream, Check this out! She's wearing a red leather jacket and jeans, but I can almost visualize her in one of those silk Oriental dresses with the high collar and short sleeves, and those delicate little buttons....

My buddies and I are sitting at a four top at Chowhound, me facing the door directly, and each of them sitting kitty corner from me. We stay silent, watching her.

Babe alert. Sean’s signal, along with the swear word that slips out of Pete’s mouth brings me out of my testosterone fog.

Who is that? wonders Pete aloud, though I’m sure it’s rhetorical, since neither of us could have kept someone that gorgeous a secret.

She stands with her profile to us, but she must sense us staring and willing her to turn and look at us. Or at least that’s what I’m doing. She tucks her hair behind her ear, then lowers her chin and smiles thoughtfully. Flirting. Come on, look this way, I silently will. My thought transference stalls, along with my heartbeat, when she answers my telepathic suggestions, shaking her hair as she turns. Then, her lips part into the greatest smile I’ve ever seen. It’s so infectious; I almost have to laugh just to keep up.

She so wants me. Pete’s comment breaks my trance.

Huh? You? I ask, befuddled.

Yeah, dude, Pete says, not taking his eyes off her. Look at her smiling at me.

I return my gaze to her. She’s still looking our way. Still smiling. She does that hair tuck/lower chin thing again. It’s so sexy. Flirting. But, who with? My eyes go back to Pete, and then to Sean, who’s also staring at Pete. We look again at the girl. Sean sighs in defeat, and slurps the last of his coke through his straw.

I think you’re right, Pete, I say, trying not to sound disappointed. She’s so checking you out. The things I do for my friends.

Sean shrugs. Not my type, anyway. Sean must figure he doesn’t stand a chance against Pete. Based on looks alone, they’re probably about even. But there’s something about Pete that gives him an edge, though I’ve never been able to put my finger on exactly what it is. His worldly wise? His surfer blond hair and brown eyes? His carefree attitude? Who knows? Pete can be loud, and abrasively sarcastic. Direct and to the point, which isn’t a bad thing, except that most of the time, he lacks diplomacy—or maybe tact. I think it goes back to his carefree attitude, which I’ve already decided is part of his charm. The part that usually wins him the girl. This time, however, the girl seems almost too extraordinary to waste on a week or two as Pete’s latest conquest. Maybe I should spare her that heartache. Maybe it’s even my gentlemanly duty. Who says chivalry is dead? With any luck she prefers men with dark hair and green eyes. Then I’m a shoo-in.

Unfortunately, before I can even think of making a move, Pete is already at the counter closing in on his prey, and moments later, he’s back at our table introducing Sean and me to Julie Mai Wan.

Hi, she says to Sean. Then for some reason, Julie Mai Wan says, Hello, to me. She giggles after making some comment about my name. Wow, chivalry’s not dead.

I stare at her, wondering if she’s reading my mind, then realize she made the comment because I stood up to greet her. Sean is still sitting at the table, jabbing his straw at the ice in his cup.

I’m sure there’s a conversation that goes on next between her, Pete, and maybe even Sean but I miss most of it, because she lost me at Hello.

Okay, bye, she says. She’s leaving? Already? I must look as lost as I feel. She laughs and asks, Are you okay, Joey?

I’m sure Pete introduced me as Joe. Maybe it’s just something girls do. But it isn’t so much the extra letter as the way she said it—with a smile that almost screams, I’ve got a secret, and you’ve got to figure out what it is. Or maybe it’s just my imagination.

I shake myself lucid, the word, Yeah, coming out a little too high. I clear my throat and faintly hear Pete and Sean snicker.

Julie says, So, see you next Friday? She says this to me. I think.

Friday? I echo. Uh—yeah, Friday. See ya then.

She giggles and flutters her fingers. ‘Kay, bye.

Bye, my buddies and I reply in stereo. Then all under her spell, we watch in silence as Julie

Mai Wan grabs her pizza, and disappears out the door.

Coming out of Julie Delight first, I sit back down and look at Sean. So, not that I’m complaining, but, why am I gonna see her Friday?

Pete sits, too. You’re not. I am.

I shrug. Okay, but then why’d she say it to me?

Sean grins. Because Julie—has— friends.

Friday can’t get here soon enough, yet it’s the ample amount of time I need to get over Julie Mai Wan. All week long, Pete goes out of his way to make it clear that Julie is his. Mostly, just by saying, Julie’s mine, since, as I said, he’s direct.

Finally, Friday afternoon, he calls me one more time with the pretext of confirming our plans, when I know it’s just to tell me once again that Julie is his date. Like she’s his personal property, or something.

Yeah, okay, okay. She’s yours, whatever, I say, having gotten the message at least five Julie’s mine’s ago. As incredible as she is, it isn’t worth ruining a friendship over. Pete’s my best friend, after all. Besides, I remind myself, Julie Mai Wan has friends. Friends who’ll go out with us. Friday. I smile, reminding myself that today is Friday.

Sean, and Pete pick me up around 8:00 PM in Sean’s dad’s Suburban, and we drive to Julie’s house, where all the girls are supposed to be waiting. The moment we reach Julie’s neighborhood, I feel my heart sink a little when Sean drives past Thistlewood Road. I find myself thinking about someone I used to know, and wonder if she’s home. I laugh at my own ridiculousness. Of course she isn’t home. It’s Friday night. She’s out with her boyfriend. I shake myself out of my pointless musing, and stare out the window. Three blocks later, we pull up to a colonial style home, with a white picket fence and a lawn much too green for March.

Pete, who’s in the front passenger seat, says, I’ll go. Sitting behind Sean in one of the captain’s chairs, I step out of the car when Pete does, but wait there while he goes to get the girls.

The front door opens, long before Pete makes it close enough to ring the bell, and out walks Julie Mai Wan. She looks more gorgeous than I remember, in a short skirt and her red leather jacket. But I’ve since become immune to her spell. Probably.

I quickly focus on the girl behind her, short blond hair, cute, maybe not my dream girl, but I’ll have no complaints if she ends up being my date. Still, I can’t help but want what’s behind door number three. A redhead would be nice. Reddish blond. Reddish brown. There’s just something about red.

My heart leaps when the third girl emerges from Julie’s house. Long strawberry blond hair bouncing in the breeze. She sweeps her hair away from her face. And just as quickly as my heart leaped, it plunges.

Who in their wildest dreams would ever imagine that in this vast universe, one of Julie's friends would turn out to be Kristen Jessica Brent? Kristy to her friends. And to me. The guy whose heart she broke when she dumped me for Brad Tanner. It's taken me a while to get over her. Eleven months, three weeks, six days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes. But I'm sure now as I look at her that I'm finally there. Maybe. I swallow a lump of dread, as I watch her approach, knowing that any second I’ll have to talk to her.

Hey. Kristy’s delicate voice hacks at my heart like a meat cleaver.

I let out a breath. Hey.

How are you? Don’t see you much at school, she says. Are you avoiding me?

No, I lie. Of course I’ve been avoiding her. For the last eleven months, three weeks, six days, twenty-three hours, and fifty-nine minutes. I glance at Sean, who’s also stepped out of the car and is already staking his claim on the blond. And here I am. On a date with my ex-girlfriend Kristy.

The doors to the SUV are already open, so I move out of the way to let Kristy in. Rather than sitting in one of the captain’s chairs, she chooses the very back seat. The bench seat. I hesitate, staring at the empty space next to her, wondering if maybe I can make one of the girls sit there.

Then, Pete comes up behind me and claps me on the shoulder. Sucks to be you.

I sigh and climb into the back with Kristy.

Julie suggests we go to a popular under 21 club called Shenanigans, quipping that she didn't bring her fake ID. She's right, though. We don't need fake ID to get in there. At least, they don't. Technically, two months shy of my 18th birthday, I still do. But I haven't had a problem getting in since I was 16, so I'm not worried. Much.

On the way there, we listen to a BudaRest CD Julie brought to get us in the mood. Julie’s plan amuses both Sean and me, since we know that Pete hates to dance. Kristy doesn’t say much the entire ride over, but then she’s always been a bit on the quiet side. At the very least, I do catch her smiling every so often at something I say or do. That’s the one thing I was always able to do better than anyone, she once told me, make her laugh. I’m glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.

By the time we get to the club, I’ve overcompensated so much for the misery a guy out on a blind date with his ex should feel, that I’ve convinced myself I’m having a wonderful time. Ironically, I'm the only one besides Pete who doesn't get carded. Jeff, who usually works the door, recognizes me and Pete. He brands my hand with a green stamp, along with the others to signify I'm too young to drink. Pete, who just turned 20, is the only one who doesn't get branded. He's been working the streets since he was 15, mostly playing pool. I think most people assume he's at least 21 by now. At least Jeff does.

Pete calls Shenanigans The Kiddie Klub, because of all the kids in there, since a few under 18's manage to slip through Jeff's intense scrutiny. Present company excluded, I guess.

After paying the cover for myself and my date, I nearly forget myself and start to hold Kristy’s hand, just like—I used to. I catch myself in time—for the moment to be awkward. Then, I put my hand in my pocket, and follow the other two couples, and my date inside. We find a table fairly close to the dance floor, and a waitress appears shortly after to ask what we want.

What do you got on draft? asks Pete. She doesn't even glance at his hand. I guess she knows

him, too. Or just doesn't care.

Sean, Cyndi, and Julie order sodas. When it’s our turn, I look at Kristy, and without thinking I ask,

Cranberry with lime? It was her favorite drink when we were dating. I guess it made her feel more grownup than Diet Coke. Kristy smiles and nods.

Cranberry with lime, I say to the waitress, and order a Coke for myself.

When the band starts playing some good music, Julie says to whoever is listening, Come on, let’s go dance.

Without thinking, I get up, apparently, the only one listening...or interested in dancing with Julie. I realize my faux pas, and look at Pete. He just nudges his chin toward the floor as if to say, "Be

my guest." I glance at Kristy for her reaction. She's not even looking at me. She's texting on her phone. Julie and I head for the dance floor.

Julie is a great dancer. She does this cute little step that varies with the style of song playing. Hip Hop—more hop, Latin—more sway, Rock—more head shaking. It’s adorable. I try to watch her feet and pick up what she’s doing, but it’s more fun to watch her face—that great smile that never seems to go away.

I realize after a few minutes of dancing with Julie that though she’s dancing with me, she’s dancing for Pete. And Pete’s enjoying the show. I’m happy for him. Really I am, though again, it seems such a waste.

I catch Julie stealing a glance, or rather another glance at Pete. She gets less discreet the longer we dance. We’re on our fourth song. A glance. A smile. This time even a wave. She’s hooked. Poor girl.

I shrug and try to focus on enjoying myself. Just then, I recall something Kristy told me back when we were dating. She said, You look really hot when you dance. I glance over at the table, but Kristy isn’t looking at me. She’s talking to Cyndi.

Finally, the band plays a slow song, and Julie ditches me for Pete, who, apparently in the mood to dance now, is already getting out of his chair. I might be disappointed if I didn’t secretly want to dance with Kristy.

I approach the table, and wash my pride down with a gob of spit. Wanna dance?

She smiles. I smile. I reach for her hand, just as she says, No thanks. And there goes the last of my pride.

Sean and Cyndi get up to dance, too, leaving me alone with Kristy. I sit down, kitty corner from her, so I have a good view of the band, since it’s obvious that not only does she not feel like dancing, she doesn’t feel like talking either. At least not to me.

Kristy watches the dance floor, and I mostly watch the back of her head. That’s okay. I have nothing to say, and clearly, neither does she. Since we broke up almost a year ago, I’ve done my best to avoid her. Maybe she’s done the same, since if she’d wanted to see me, I’m sure she’d have found a way. But then why is she out on a date with me? It makes no sense. At least not to me.

The back of Kristy’s head and I sit through another slow song, watching the other couples dance close. Kristy turns a few times to take a sip of her drink, but during neither of those times does she look at me. A couple of times, when I’m looking the other way, I can swear she’s looking at me, but every time I glance at her, she’s either sipping her drink or watching the dance floor. But if she still hates me, why is she out on a date with me?

Is it just dumb luck? If so, then why didn’t she seem surprised when she first saw me? I doubt she could have been that nonchalant about being on a date with me if she hadn’t been forewarned. And wouldn’t Julie have told her my name? I remember Pete saying it, and Julie making some comment about it. I grin, suddenly recalling what it was. Sounds like a secret agent name. And then that giggle, further tormenting my already traumatized hormo—no, wait. Julie is Pete’s girl.

What was I thinking about again? Oh right, why is Kristy out with me? Why isn’t she out with Brad Tanner? As far as I know, they’re still dating. Aren’t they?

At some point during my abstraction, Kristy must have turned her head to watch a different part of the dance floor. More of her profile is to me now, and I can’t help staring at her. I try to be discreet at first, but then I become so entranced with her beauty, just like the first time I saw her, that I don’t try to conceal my staring anymore. And, besides she isn’t looking at me, anyway.

She blinks slowly, as she takes another sip of her juice. Those long eyelashes sweeping down, then up, nearly reaching her brow. That little row of freckles across her nose. I think about her laughing back in the car on the way up to the club, and the way her nose crinkles when she laughs. My jaw clenches. What’s wrong with me? It’s clear she’s so easily moved on. With Brad. On the other hand, to quote a popular phrase, why is she out on a date with….

The more I watch Kristy, the more she continues to not watch me. I lean my elbows on the table and stare more intently at her. Even if she totally lacks peripheral vision, she has to feel me staring. She’ll have to turn eventually. Then I can look deep into her eyes and see once and for all if she’s truly over me. Though I have no idea what I’ll do with that information once I have it.

I sigh when Kristy shakes her head lightly, her long, strawberry blond hair bouncing on her shoulders. She tucks it behind her ear, lowers her chin and smi—fuck! She’s flirting with me!

Kristy— I say, and it’s possible that when I first opened my mouth to speak, I knew what I was going to say. Maybe something as direct as, Why are you out on a date with me? But whatever it is—was—completely eludes me when I recognize the first few chords of the song that was playing on Kristy’s stereo the day she broke up with me. The song that after all this time, still makes me feel like I’ve just been kicked in the gut.

My mouth is still open when Kristy turns to me and asks, Wanna dance?

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Is she kidding? Do I wanna dance? To this? Absofuckinlutely not!

Sure, I say, since the moment I met Kristy, I apparently lost all ability to think and speak synchronously. I take her hand—without hesitation—and we walk to the dance floor in time with the music.

The moment I feel her body against mine, I know I can no longer deny what I’m feeling. What I’ve been feeling the entire time I've been trying to convince myself that I’m over her. Her hair tickles my cheek. The words of the song set me on fire. All at once, like a splash of cold water, I have a disgusting flashback of Kristy kissing Brad outside my class last year, strictly for my benefit, of course, since neither of them had a class anywhere in the vicinity. Again, I have to ask myself what she’s doing here with me. Why she isn’t with Brad. I start to ease her away, but then she looks up at me with those big, blue eyes. Like Kryptonite to Superman. I suppress a whimper. Possibly.

I should stop right now, I think. Before it’s too late. But who am I kidding? It’s already too late. I wrap my arms around her and rest my cheek against her head. Mildly intoxicated by the fragrance of her hair, I surrender completely, telling myself that, after all, we’re just dancing. Just....

Can we go sit? Kristy asks when the music speeds up. The slow dance is over, and with it, the moment. But Kristy and I shared an undeniable, indisputable, unequivocal moment. I'm sure of it. I think.

By the time my buddies and I take the girls back to Julie’s, it’s nearly 1:00 AM. On the way back to my house, Pete decides he has to have some peanut butter pie. I could go for some myself, but it’s getting late. Sean has to work in the morning, and I still have a curfew.

We stop at the All Night Diner on Thorp. While Sean waits in the car, Pete gets his pie to go, and I head for the john. Coming out of the bathroom, I spot Brad Tanner in one of the booths at the far window. I hate that guy. He’s such an asshole, and yet no one seems to notice but me.

Brad’s out with some of his muscle head buddies, Alan Ridgeway, Dean Cutter, Doug something, and another guy whose name escapes me. They’re freshmen in college, on some stupid weight lifting team. They were always big shots in high school, and everyone still seems to love them. Everyone but me. But Brad bugs me the most—with his perfect wavy blond hair, chiseled features and blue eyes. He’s like a Ken doll on steroids.

Brad’s and his buddies’ profiles are to me, and apparently they lack peripheral vision, too. Brad says something that I don’t catch, and they all roar with laughter. They’d laugh even if it wasn’t funny. He’s their leader.

I roll my eyes, still standing there in the alcove which leads to the bathrooms. Brad and his crew still haven’t spotted me, though I don’t care if they do. In fact, every time I see Brad Tanner, I wish he’d start something. Of course, every time I see him, he’s with his cronies, but I never let that stop me from entertaining thoughts of kicking his ass.

Just then, I hear Brad’s friend Alan say, Dude, Ali told me Kristy nearly had a meltdown when you told her you weren’t taking her out tonight.

So Brad and Kristy are still together. And now I know why she was with me tonight. Payback, because her boyfriend would rather hang out with his pals on a Friday night than with her. A weight drops on my heart, and I suddenly feel like the biggest sucker on the planet.

In typical Brad fashion, he says to his buddies, It's good for her to stay home once in a while and miss me.

I grin, thinking maybe I’m not the biggest sucker. I leave the diner with that grin still on my face. In fact, I grin all the way home. I don’t even realize I’m grinning until Pete says, What the hell are you grinning about? I shrug, and turn the radio up.

Not thinking of hooking back up with Princess again, are you? He’s never liked Kristy, though I’m not sure why. I’ve never asked, and I don’t feel like asking now.

No, I reassure him, but I think I know I’m lying. To him—as well as to myself.

Two

Who Knew She Had a Sister?

The next morning when I wake up, still grinning, I try to blame it on the dream I had, that I swear I can’t remember, but I’m lying even now. I haven’t stopped thinking about Kristy since last night...or since I met her...something.

The house seems unusually quiet for a Saturday morning. When I go downstairs to the kitchen, I find my 21 year-old-brother, Matt, sitting at the kitchen table getting his daily fix of brown sugar and cinnamon Pop Tarts. At 6’3 and 230 pounds of pure muscle, he could be the perfect poster boy for Pop Tarts. I bop into the kitchen and do a mini drum roll on the breakfast bar as I pass it.

Matt glances up. Hey.

Sam, our German Shepherd, looks up from his sprawl on the wood floor by Matt’s chair. The dog eyes me a while as if considering whether to hoist his brown and black 90 pound body up to greet me, then cocks his head as if to say, I’m too comfortable.

I cock my head back at him and with a hand gesture and a voice exaggeratedly firmer and deeper than my normal speaking voice, I say, Stay.

Sam puts his head back down, letting out a little grunt of agreement.

Matt chuckles. What’re you so happy about?

If my swagger, drum roll, and tongue in cheek exchange with Sam weren’t enough to clue Matt in on my good mood, the goofy grin on my face must have clinched it. I shrug, but can’t seem to wipe the grin off my face. I think back to my moment with Kristy, and take in a deep breath. I can almost

smell her coconut-scented hair.

I grab a glass from the cupboard and the orange juice from the refrigerator and sit down at the table.

Where is everyone?

Dad’s on a shift.

Today?

Matt straightens in his chair and furrows his brow. Crime doesn’t stop on Saturday. His tone is sober and dry and a near perfect imitation of our father, the police captain.

I grin. Kevin working, too?

‘Ain’t he always? Our older brother, the doctor is in his residency at the local hospital, so he pretty much lives there. Why? Matt asks. You missing him?

I smirk. Yeah, I nearly cried myself to sleep last night.

He laughs, then doing another imitation of Dad—or maybe of Rodney King—he says, Why can’t you two just get along?

Easy for you to say. Kevin doesn’t treat you like a kid brother. I pour myself some juice.

But you are his—

Yeah, so are you.

He thinks for a moment. My jaw tightens. I glare at him, daring him to say what he’s probably thinking. That he’s older. More responsible than I am. Or more reliable. Or something equally annoying.

He shrugs, saying neither of those things. He’s just looking out for you, Joe.

I don’t need him looking out for me. Dad does enough of that.

Sometimes it’s tough being the youngest, especially when Dad and Kevin apparently think they need to try and make up for the absence of a mother. They don't.

Matt chews his pseudo pastries, not pushing the subject, trying to remain neutral, perhaps, so he can stay close to both Kevin and me. Maybe Matt looks out for me, too. But he does it in a way that doesn’t make me feel like his kid brother. Just his brother. Or even—his friend.

Matt sets his Pop Tart down and rubs his fingertips together over the plate, brushing crumbs off of them. So, how was your blind date?

Good.

Hot?

Smokin'.

Really?

Really.

Wow, lucky you, he says. "What