Meet Me At the Riverside

By Rocky F. Catman

Shaun Collins and Clarissa Alba are hometown sweethearts who have been separated by life. Clarissa moved east to pursue a career in advertising, while Shaun headed to Los Angeles to record music at the behest of his musical mentor. For five years, they have had no contact—and a lot can change in five years. Shaun is now a multi-platinum musician, international celebrity, and world-class womanizer who carefully hides the hole in his heart left by Clarissa. Meanwhile, she is an advertising executive in New York City who just ended a relationship with her substitute for Shaun. Much to her dismay, no one can replace her first love. Circumstances bring them both home at the same time, and when their eyes meet on the Riverside dance floor, old feelings rekindle. But they are no longer the same couple that fell in love years before. They’ve both changed dramatically, and as Shaun prepares to go back on tour, it becomes apparent those differences could tear them apart

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jun 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483412238

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CATMAN

Copyright © 2014 Rocky F. Catman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons alive or dead or events written here in is purely coincidental. I, Rocky F. Catman, the Author holds exclusive rights to its content. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Thank you.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1224-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1225-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1223-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014908709

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 05/20/2014

Contents

Advance Acknowledgements

Many Thanks To…

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

About The Author

For My Family, Friends and

Self Published Writers Everywhere

We only write by the moon… every word handwritten…

The Gaslight Anthem

Beautiful…MEET ME AT THE RIVERSIDE has love, sex and romance for the woman, and sex, sports and music for the guys. The author weaves it all into the touching story of Shaun and Clarissa. He will take you on a journey through, love, loss, broken dreams and then the road to redemption. It touches on the violent temperament of a troubled young man and tight bonds with his friends and those who matter the most. It will also show you the powerful tug of a true first love. You will become emotionally invested in the characters, both good and bad, as they are all flawed in some way. It is a tumultuous walk through the seasons of life that you won’t want to end.

-   Lisa Chung – Writer/ Designer

Advance Acknowledgements

I fell in love with the characters and became involved in their lives. The author painted such beautiful pictures of each scene with his words.

Del Tocco Tekieli, Director of County Programming. Cleveland Ohio.

A detailed look into a young man’s life story of first love, shattered dreams, disappointment and loss. Then his journey through self-discovery, fate, and second chances.

Kathy Spadaro, Marketing Coordinator, Dynatech Intl.

Rocky Catman has officially unleashed his writing talent to a wide audience. This love story, complete with sex, drugs and rock & roll, is touching, emotional, intimate and riveting. A perfect vacation-read, a captivating anytime-read!

Pam Bartee, Educator, Reading/Literature

Rocky has captured the complexities of love and unlocked the mysteries of male bonding and friendship. Five out of Five stars!

Julie Cuccia-Watts, Author, [e-mail]

Shaun Collins and Clarissa Alba were hometown sweethearts. After she leaves to pursue her dreams of bigger and better things on the East Coast, he follows the wishes of his 75 year old musical mentor, and travels out to Los Angeles to record his music.

For five years they live separate lives that never intersect. What was it that brought them back to the very place he said she could find him if she ever wanted to look, The Riverside Barn. He was now a multi-platinum musician, international celebrity and world class womanizer with a big dark whole in his heart… the one left by his hometown sweetheart. She found success in the highly competitive field of advertising in New York City, and was in the process of ending her relationship with the man she thought could replace her first love and hometown sweetheart.

When they meet each other’s gaze across the dance floor at The Riverside, all the old feelings began to burn for both of them. There was one problem, both of them had changed. Rekindling the old flames, she goes along on his U.S. tour where everything is going wonderfully, until Shaun’s personal demons threaten to destroy it all.

MEET ME AT THE RIVERSIDE will take you to Miami, New York, Los Angeles and throughout the Midwest. It will escort you through the intricacies of love, friendship, loyalty, and redemption.

Many thanks to…

My God for the gifts and strength he gave me to pursue my dream and tell this story.

My Son Collin, Mom, Dad and Sister for being a close loving family.

Greg Yocum, a great friend and writer, who encouraged and guided me through the process of writing.

Julie Cuccia-Watts and Pam Bartee for taking the time to proof read and critique my book along the way. Your thoughts and suggestions were especially helpful in trying to form the female characters. Understanding women has never been my strength.

Greg Yocum, Dennis Lynde, Scott Walters, Mark Snow and many others whose friendship though the years were collectively used in forming the male characters. As I don’t always understand women, I don’t think women fully understand the bonding of men.

All the musicians whose songs were instrumental, pun intended, in the inspiration of many portions of the book. Whenever I would hit a snag or experience writers block, I would here a line in a song and it would give me direction.

Julie Cuccia-Watts, Cover Artwork

Greg Yocum, Editor

•   All songs referenced in the book can be purchased on I Tunes or viewed on Youtube.

Preface

When People would ask what my book was about it would have been easy to say it was a story of love between a guy and a girl. But to me it was so much more than that. It was a story of meaningful friendships and lifelong bonds that are formed. It is how your past can mold your future and sometimes come back and haunt. It is about living with demons and, at some point, confronting them and coming to terms with them. It was a journey through life’s experiences and how going down a different road or choose to go the other way can open up whole new worlds. And lastly, it is a book about redemption and at some point in your journey you will hopefully find inner peace.

God Bless

CHAPTER 1

May 1, 1999, Wisconsin

The bright red fluorescent lights ahead sawed through the tinted limousine windows and the cocoon of numbness that had engulfed Shaun Collins. Tired and bleary-eyed from not sleeping in over a day, he tilted his glass and downed another shot of Patron. Drops of the raspy liquor slithered down the stubble of his unshaven chin.

He stared at the bright lights as he ran his fingers through his shoulder-length, sandy-blond hair. Five years had passed since anyone had last seen him here. The lights hadn’t changed, and for that matter, neither had their meaning. From the back seat of the limo, Shaun swiveled his head and watched as those lights flew by, thinking of something he had said to someone long ago.

Excuse me, he said to the limousine driver.

Yes, sir? The reply came through the intercom.

Can you please turn around and take me back to the club we just passed?

You mean the Riverside Barn, sir?

Yes, the Riverside Barn. Shaun’s voice faded as the words left his mouth.

Five years. It might as well have been a lifetime ago.

The Riverside Barn housed so many bittersweet memories from the days gone by. The Riverside, was where he and Al Aarons, his seventy-five-year-old father figure, friend, and mentor, would play every Wednesday and Sunday night. It was Al who helped Shaun regain his footing and gave him direction after he had dropped out of college in the spring of 1995. Al helped turn Shaun into an artist and a musician. He brought out the passion in him and taught him there was life after football. It was also at this old barn, in that summer of ’95, where he fell in love … And the barn is where Shaun’s demons and angels converged.

Shaun was about to tell the driver to forget about it and just keep going, but he had already pulled into the dimly lit parking lot. Gazing out the window, he saw a small gathering of people forming outside the limo. Black limos were like UFOs in these parts. Illuminating the scene was the bright neon sign that read, Riverside Barn—Cocktails & Live Music.

The limo driver opened Shaun’s door and waited for him to emerge. Shaun took in the barn and people, reached for the bottle of Patron, and took one last long swig. As he stepped out, he pulled out three crumpled up hundred-dollar bills and gave them to the driver.

I will wait here for you, sir, the limo driver said.

No, this’ll be fine. Could you go on to the address and just drop the bag by the back door?

Will it be all right there?

Yes, it will be fine. Thank you for your service. Before Shaun closed the door, he went back and took one more pull on the Patron.

The damp beads of a light drizzle rested on his long hair, which hung over his eyes. Glancing down, he noticed he was wearing the same torn jeans that he had worn last night in Key West, Florida. What the fuck am I doing here? He thought.

After the limo pulled away, Shaun was aware of the people speaking softly around him.

Who got out of the limo? someone asked.

Is that Shaun Collins? asked another.

What is he doing here?

He hasn’t been back here since he got all famous.

I heard he was doing drugs and screwing porn stars out in Los Angeles.

Yeah, I heard he almost killed a guy in Texas and was in jail.

Shaun Collins stayed focused on his torn jeans and did not look up or acknowledge any of them. Again, he wondered why he was back here. There was some truth to the murmuring, and it reminded him that you could never outrun your past. It was always there like a dark shadow.

Lost in his thoughts, he was jilted when someone drove their shoulder into his, nearly knocking him over.

Watch where the fuck you’re walking, rock star! the deliverer of the shoulder bump said.

Sorry about that.

You bet you’re fucking sorry. A sorry fucking river rat.

River rat. The name was given to the less-fortunate kids who grew up along the river. Some things never changed. Shaun Collins had grown up on the river, and in many ways, it still ran through his veins.

Pussy-fucking river rat doesn’t remember me?

Shaun paused but decided to keep walking.

Yeah, keep walking, you and your faggot fucking music. No one listens to that shit around here.

Maybe it was the ugly derogatory slur or just a culmination of everything that was said that compelled Shaun to turn around and storm back to within an inch of the guy’s face. At six feet, two, Shaun was looking down at his short, stocky antagonist.

You’re Billy Bat Shit Schmidt. You have a brother, Bobby Bat Shit, who is two years older—

William, the antagonist interrupted.

What?

I go by William now.

Now that you work for your daddy’s company you have to sound important?

No.

Whatever, William. I beat the hell out of your brother Bobby, or is it Robert now? Do you remember that, you little prick? That’s when you became Billy and Bobby Bat Shit Schmidt to us river rats. Now look at you trying to be all tough around your kiss-asses.

Shaun moved closer and said sternly, "You have one play here, William. You turn around and tell your little gang of yes-men that there’s nothing to see here and you walk away quietly. If I hear one more smart-ass remark as you walk away, I will beat the fucking William out of you. You will be back to Bat Shit Billy. You got it, William?"

William shrank to the challenge. He was staring into the devilish eyes of Shaun Collins for just a moment. He turned to his buddies and said, Come on, guys. Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Shaun continued to walk toward the barn, unaware of the swarm of people that had congregated; his head was filled with darkness. He heard a female voice from the throes of the back of his mind say, Find the light, Shaun. Go back to the light. The familiar voice repeated the words in gentle tones.

He took another few steps and started hearing the people around him again. He was back.

Second thoughts filled his head as he stood at the entrance of the Riverside Barn. He pondered his options as he stared out at the large natural lake that it sat next to. He decided he didn’t want to go inside; he wasn’t ready yet.

As he turned to make the long walk back to Al Aaron’s riverside home, a sudden bitter wind blew off the lake. People scurried as the wind continued. Shaun stopped to zip his leather jacket and turn his collar to the blustery weather. While shielding himself, two patrons opened the double glass door to enter the barn. When they did, Shaun heard the house band playing the heavy guitar intro to Like a Hurricane, his favorite Neil Young song. They sounded tight, almost like Neil himself was banging out the chords. As the strange wind continued to blow on an otherwise calm spring night, he decided to go inside and listen to the local talent.

Entering the barn, he felt a little like he was stepping back in time. He noticed that not a lot had changed. The faces seemed younger, though he detected some older guys he might have known long ago.

So here he was in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, a town of about twenty thousand people just outside Milwaukee. Five years, and although not much had changed at the Riverside Barn, a lot had changed for Shaun Collins.

He shouldered up to the bar in an attempt to get the bartender’s attention and noticed two girls were looking at him. One of them waived and mouthed, Hi, Shaun. He wondered if he knew them.

The bartender finally made her way over. She had long, blonde hair, big, full lips, hazel eyes, and large, tanned breasts stuffed into a tight, low-cut T-shirt that had Riverside Girl. She was quite a sight and was not shy about bending over the bar and giving him a look at her majestic cleavage. She asked over the loud music, What can I get for you, stranger? She was staring, almost daring him to look down.

Shaun was only mildly impressed, although he had to admit she was pretty damn impressive, even by Miami or LA standards. Can I please have three shots of Patron? he said, resisting the temptation.

Umm, I don’t think we have it. What is it?

Forget it. Just give me three shots of Cuervo.

Okay, handsome. Where are you from? she asked in a flirty tone.

I don’t know, he replied, and he wasn’t being rude; he really didn’t know where he called home anymore.

She turned to retrieve the shots and Shaun’s eyes were drawn to her micro-mini Daisy Dukes and the firm and formed butt that packed every inch of them. Again, quite impressive, but he still was not interested.

While she was pouring, Shaun saw a guy by himself at the other end of the bar. He looked like Mike Walters, a guy Shaun played high school football with. Mike was offered a full scholarship to Nebraska and turned it down to work on the family farm. The same farm that Shaun’s father, Joe, did a lot of carpentry work on. His thoughts drifted back to those days. Shaun himself was offered a full scholarship to play quarterback for the Wisconsin Badgers, but a severe knee injury in the last game of his senior year put an end to that dream. He ended up playing for the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, a Division III school.

Here are your shots, handsome! she shouted over the loud music. My name is Jessica!

Thanks, Jessica.

She seemed to be waiting for him to say something else. Girls like Jessica always expected guys to fawn all over them, but he really wasn’t in the mood.

I need a credit card to run a tab.

Just like that, the flirty bitch turned to cold bitch. He reached in his pocket and pulled out four more rolled up $100 dollar bills. Take this, when you need more just ask.

Ok, she said, grabbing the four bills and walking away.

He glanced back at Mike Walters and was about to stroll down and talk to him when Jessica came back and asked, Are you Shaun Collins the singer guy from Los Angeles?

Shaun downed two of the three shots and said, Can I please have a couple more?

You have to answer my question first, Handsome. The flirty tenor was back.

Yes, I am, now can I have those shots?

She was back with the shots in a matter of seconds. I love your music.

He gave her the once up and down, as if sizing her up, No you don’t, you’ve never heard it. He drank another shot and asked her for two more.

I’ll bring you the shots, if you answer all my questions when I come back.

Sure.

While waiting, Shaun searched through the crowd for no one in particular, just a familiar face, someone other than Mike Walters, who he might know. At twenty-nine, he was halfway between the young graduates like Jessica and the old townies hanging around. The barn accepted them all without prejudice. Unexpectedly, his senses heightened, he could hear his heartbeat. Scanning the crowd, not knowing what he was looking for…he suddenly froze, literally froze. He saw her, looked away then back, as if he was seeing a ghost. Was it…

*      *      *

Clarissa scanned the spacious barn, the Riverside Barn, the restored relic turned nightclub. She was there with her roommate from New York, Michelle. She really didn’t want to be there, but Michelle had insisted on experiencing the Midwestern scene, and this was the only place she could think of that would be kind of fun. The music made her remember the last time she had been inside the place; it was five years ago, but seemed like 20. The band was booming, as they struck the first chords of a song that sounded familiar to her. Was it, yes it was, ‘Like a Hurricane’. He would have told her that this was one of his favorite songs. He would have told her everything about the song, including the guitar parts and the meaning of every word. And he would’ve had that passion in his eyes, as he made her listen to the secondary instruments and told her about their importance to the song. Silence filled her head as she thought back to the days when she was young and so much in love, a silent secret she kept to herself to this day. A jolt of pain stabbed her heart, as the memories came back in waves. She remembered…

So this is the big Wisconsin nightlife? Her roommate, Michelle, asked.

Yes, this is it. She said.

How could you grow up like this? Michelle chided. Wasn’t it boring?

It was different then. Another short answer, He used to love this song. She heard herself say.

Who used to love it? It sounds like a country hick song.

She didn’t realize she was talking out loud. As she soaked in the surroundings, an unexpected sensation that she hadn’t felt in a long time surged through her. She could hear her heart beat as she searched through the crowd, but the flashing stage lights made it difficult to focus on anyone. Then suddenly, she froze, literally froze. Was it…

*      *      *

Flustered and a little disconcerted, Shaun looked away before their eyes met. Jessica was back with the shots, starting her full court press. Ignoring her, he was trying to focus his mind on the ghost he had just seen across the dance floor. Memories of their past raced through his mind, and he tried to center himself.

Are the things they say about you true? Jessica asked over the music.

Giving her a vacant glance, his thoughts were consumed by the ghost… and five years ago. Had she seen him?

He had to go over to her, but wasn’t sure what he would say when he got to there. He gazed back across the floor, and the ghost was staring back at him… a moment that time and circumstance would freeze. Through the flashing lights and dancing fools, their eyes never left each other.

*      *      *

Typical of him to flirt with the bartender I guess the stories I had read about him were true. All of those pictures with models and actresses I had to suffer through. Their eyes met… why can’t I look away… why can’t I breath? Was time standing still for him too? What is he thinking? The quiet secret was screaming inside her. He seems the same, but different. I’m not making any sense, how can I be? How long have we been staring at each other across this club?

*      *      *

My God, she is still beautiful. Her skin was golden and silky, and her hair looked lighter…..and longer. And those dark brown eyes… He held his breath. What was she thinking right now? He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew he had to say something. Picking up the three shots, he began the long walk across the dance floor to her. A walk that would take him back to remnants of his past life, the life he lost. The one he was searching for. Can you relive the past? He asked himself.

Hey, you said you would answer all my questions! Jessica said as he walked away.

He glanced at her, but did not respond.

You’re the singer, you’re famous right?

I don’t know, am I?

*      *      *

Hi Shaun… she said quietly.

Hi Clarissa… he said.

Clarissa Alba, his first and only great love. They used to spend the summers together in this place. She would come and watch him every Wednesday and Sunday. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words were stuck somewhere in the past. After all, it had been five long years since he had last seen her. He thought of her every day, but still, what was she thinking now?

It was her friend that broke the ice, Hey, I know you. You’re Shaun Collins the singer aren’t you?

Shaun’s eyes never left Clarissa, nor hers, him. Clarissa finally said, Yes, this is the famous Shaun Collins from Oconomowoc Wisconsin. Shaun, this is my roommate Michelle from New York.

It’s a pleasure Michelle. He said offering a hand.

Clarissa thought of the actresses and models and added, What brings you back here? I thought you were in LA with all the beautiful people.

Sensing a hint of sarcasm in her voice, Shaun didn’t know where to navigate the conversation. He backed off and became a little distant, as he didn’t know how Clarissa felt. Ah…I’m not sure. Relocking his eyes with hers, he tried to gauge her intent.

I was sorry to hear about Al, I know he meant a lot to you. She finally said.

He reflected back to the years he and Al Aarons had spent together, all those late nights sitting out on his deck playing music. Al someone else he thought about and missed every day of his life. He lived at Al’s home, growing as a person and an artist under Al’s tutelage. The two of them played almost every night, both here at the barn and at Al’s restaurant, the East Gate Inn.

Thanks for remembering. We had a time or two, he and I, I miss him.

How is your Mom doing? Clarissa moved on.

Umm… she’s with my Dad and Al. He said while gazing at the floor.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…

It’s ok, really, it’s all right.

Thankfully, Michelle chimed in and started asking questions about Shaun’s music, I never knew who you were, but Clarissa has all your CD’s, listens to them all the time. She turned me on to you. We always used to wonder who you were writing about. They were such great songs. Did you write them for someone?

Shaun handed one of the shots to Michelle and Clarissa the other. Clarissa declined, so he drank it and said, Why didn’t you just ask Clarissa? She knows who they’re for. Shaun said, mesmerized by Clarissa’s beauty.

Michelle’s face bloomed with an expression that said she had just put two and two together and yelped, Clarissa! You’re the inspiration for his CD’s? You never told me! His CD was about you? I can’t believe you never told me!

I didn’t know… I don’t know… Clarissa stammered.

I loved your first two CD’s, but the third one… it was a little funky.

No one liked it, but I don’t care, I happened to like it a lot.

The music was deafening, making extended conversation almost impossible. Shaun and Clarissa exchanged stares. He couldn’t believe he was this close to a dream he thought had passed. Her Spanish heritage from her Father’s side, combined with her Mother’s Nordic features made for a permanent tan and exotic look. She had high cheekbones and full lips. Of course, everyone would ask the obvious question, Are you related to Jessica Alba? She was not related to the famous young actress, but the similarities were frightening. Shaun would always say Jessica was Clarissa’s homely sister.

As his eyes were fixed on her, he thought she was even more beautiful than before. She wore a skin-tight, white turtle neck sweater that emphasized her ample bosom. He saw the outline of her bra and had to catch his breath. Her low-riding, hip-hugging jeans drew attention to her hips and curves.

She glanced up and couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He seemed bigger now, his hair was long and unkempt, but she also noticed an emptiness in his eyes. His baby-blues were always full of life, now they seemed lifeless. She always felt safe with him. Although he seemed the same, he was definitely different in ways she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Maybe it was fame, or maybe it was something else. She never understood her feelings for him when she was young. It was he who helped her in one of his songs… when he was already gone.

Hey Babe, you don’t have to understand it

There is no explanation for love.

I had it all with you

And I know you felt it too.

Next time love comes around

Let it take you away

Like he knew what she felt for him back then, and in a way… understood.

Do you want to go outside and talk? She finally got the nerve to ask.

Umm… Yeah I would like that. I have to settle up with the bartender. I’ll meet you outside.

Clarissa had a blank expression on her face. Finally Michelle said, Go, I’ll be alright. I think you need to do this. It’s written all over your face.

Clarissa gave her the keys and made sure she knew her way home. She saw Shaun across the bar, chatting with the bartender. A flicker of jealousy went through her, and she couldn’t believe herself. Was she back in high school?

Can you give me a double in a ‘to-go’ cup? Shaun asked Jessica the bartender.

Are you leaving, handsome?

For now… but keep my tab open, I might be back.

The band was playing ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones, another favorite.

Hey Shaun. he heard Jessica shout over the music. He looked back and she said, I hope you come back, I’ll make it worth your while.

I’m sure you would, Shaun thought. Girls like Jessica stood out when they walked through a mall, with their tight sweat pants on, a little slogan written across the backside. They all smelled like bubble gum. He lost his taste for bubble gum long ago.

He passed Michelle on the way out. She was quite striking in her own way. She had that lean, eastern, well-healed, moneyed, decadence to her. Her nose was thin, her hands perfectly manicured. Her body was lean and toned. She had a nice set of breasts, too. Not too big, not too small, just the right size. She was a real looker.

As he stood by the double glass doors leading out, he stopped to behold the sight of Clarissa, who stood just outside with her back to him. She truly was breathtaking. He loved to gaze at her when she didn’t know he was there, like he had done a thousand times before. It was something he noticed others doing when they passed by her. Shaun told her she got more second glances than anyone he had ever known. It was as if she possessed a magnetic pull that others were drawn to, male or female. Shaun called it the Clarissa effect. She always told him that he was crazy and was unaware of any of that. It was there, though, and Shaun noticed… how could he not? He continued, almost trance- like, studying the magnificent figure filling out her designer jeans, thick camel colored belt and matching boots. Her shiny sleek golden hair was straight out of a Vidal Sassoon commercial.

From the first time their eyes met, Shaun loved all the little things about Clarissa. Sure, all the cliché things such as her eyes, her smile, and her body. But it was her other attributes he couldn’t let go of. The smell of her hair, the way her long eye lashes seemed to move in slow motion when she blinked, how her hair swayed when she moved, the small almost unnoticeable birthmark where her neck met her shoulder… he always wanted to kiss her there… but never did. There was also the Cindy Crawford-like beauty mark above the left side of her upper lip, and the way she would subtly run her tongue across her lips and teeth to keep them looking fresh and moist. A melancholy song that kept going through his mind, that’s what she was like.

Standing outside, waiting for him, Clarissa’s mind raced with all the times she had to force herself to push him away, even though all she really wanted to do was to be with him. There were forces working against her, mainly her father, but also her age and her worldly ambitions, none of which involved him. Yet any time she thought of a place she wanted to go, she always saw herself with him. Her secret, how she wanted to scream it out loud at times, would anyone hear her?

She used to love the creative games he played with her. He would sing a line to a song and ask her the artist. When she guessed correctly, he would ask what memories were linked to the song. He would narrate 80’s movie references that always made her laugh. He made her think and feel differently, and would bend her mind with his words. Sometimes they were pure poetry. And that was it… no one had done that for her before, or since. During the last five years she tried to tell herself many times that she was over him, but deep down she knew it wasn’t true.

She turned and saw him staring at her from inside door. Suddenly, he felt like a clumsy teenager.

What were you doing? She asked.

Umm… wondering I guess. Shaun replied.

Oh… what were you wondering?

I don’t know, maybe it was nothing.

She noticed he didn’t smile as much and that he seemed to look down a lot. She wondered if he was bored with her, or still mad at her.

Do you want to walk? He finally asked.

I have to get going home. Can you give me a ride and we can talk?

I don’t have a car, but it’s a nice night. Let me walk you home, it’s not that far.

It’s pretty far Shaun, did you forget where I live?

I remember, it’s not that far. Besides, I think we can find enough things to talk about along the way.

The wind had died down, but the warm mist continued, the small beads glistening on Clarissa’s skin. Shaun could hear their footsteps as they walked over soggy leaves. He rubbed against her arm and thought he felt her move closer to him. The lake shore was on the right, and a band of trees lined the other side of the road. Along the way people passed by on their way to the club. He could hear some of them talking about him as they passed, That’s Shaun Collins… The famous musician… I have his CD’s… And so on. Another reason he liked LA, he wasn’t a big enough star to be noticed among the A-listers of Hollywood. Out there he was just another face in the crowd. Here, in the fish bowl of the small town, he didn’t have that luxury. He was the hometown boy that made it big. The local newspaper tirelessly ran articles about every little thing they heard about him, accompanied by pictures.

The years between them seemed to dissolve in the mist as they walked in silence. He wanted her to talk first, to get a sense of how she was felt about all of this.

Finally, she broke the ice. I saw you on TV a bunch of times; you were always with someone else. Did you get caught up in all of that?

His eyes dove toward his feet again. His delayed response didn’t say much, "I