Too Young to Fall in Love
Athena
May 17, 1984
Brrring!
I jerked awake as the jarring cry of the telephone burst from somewhere nearby. It shot a sudden pain through my head as I sat up, my whole body aching as it begged me to fall back into the cozy contours of my bed. My eyes drifted open hazily, my heart thundering in my ears in bewilderment as the world started to materialize around me. My face felt numb; all but my forehead, which seemed to be on fire. I blinked for a few moments, too tired to compute what had just happened. I didn't know why I was sitting up. I couldn't place what had just woken me.
And then it came again: Brrring!
My mind swam as the brassy ring echoed around and tore through my migraine with severe pain. I turned my head towards the telephone, but winced. It was excruciatingly painful to move. Squeezing my eyes shut again, I slowly reached my hand out towards the phone, and picked it up just as it was about to ring a third time.
“Hullo,” I mumbled wearily, making it more of a statement rather than a greeting.
“Addie!” Tommy bellowed, sounding partially inebriated and somewhat shocked. I cringed at his deep voice wailing in my ear. Rubbing my temples with my free hand, I dared to squint down at the bright, white bed sheet covering my legs that seemed to drift through the depths of my drunken vision.
“Don't fucking yell,” I groaned nastily, though my heart did beat a bit faster at the sound of his voice. It'd been much too long since I'd heard from him. Last I knew, he was trying to sign a record deal for his shitty band at some trash-bin record company in L.A. But that was months ago. I was a little curious to know how that went over.
“Aren't you glad to hear from me?” he whined through the phone, mocking saddened sniffles. I rolled my eyes and wiggled myself back underneath my warm sheets. The warmth and protection from the sunlight that streamed through my dirty bedroom windows slightly soothed my pounding headache.
“Sure I am, but I've got the worst fucking hangover and I really don't care to make it any worse.”
He snickered and started to comment back with a snide remark, but I cut him off, asking, “What exactly did you call for, Tommy? I'm not in the mood for your immature humor right now.”
“Well, I was actually calling to surprise you...” he said mystically, letting his sentence trail off dreamily. I grunted. Wonderful.
“What's the surprise?”
“You have to guess,” he countered while chortling evilly. I moaned in agony. “Come on, Addie! Guess!” I sighed, giving in, and threw an arm over my eyes.
“You're getting married?”
“No.”
“You have a new girlfriend?”
“No.”
“You've found the woman of your dreams?”
“No.”
“You – ”
“Look,” he interrupted in slight annoyance, as if he were the one with any reason to be getting agitated at the moment, “It has nothing to do with women – ”
“My gosh!” I gasped. “You, for once, aren't talking about women? Shit, Tommy, you've got me stumped.” I could practically feel his glare radiating through the phone line.
“Really funny, sis. Hilarious.”
“Just tell me, T,” I begged. I rolled over and pressed my face into the pillow as he debated whether or not to relent. After a few moments, he sighed.
“Fine,” he compromised, sounding just as drunk and giddy again, “But only if you promise not to scream excitedly when I tell you.” I almost laughed.
“Yeah, right; whatever you say.”
He giggled in personal excitement a few times, causing me to have to hold in a few laughs. Then he whispered feverishly, “You, Athena Lee, are invited to embark on the journey of a lifetime! You...and me...and the three most talented musicians in the world...are invited to come and experience the magic that is....” He paused for dramatic effect, then, without warning, screamed, “MÖTLEY CRÜE!” I flinched and held the phone away from my ear as he let out a wailing battle cry. Pain shot through my head again.
“Tommy,” I whined in pain and confusion, after he had finished screaming, “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Who the hell is Hotly Threw?”
“No, sis, Mötley Crüe.”
“Dotley Shoe?”
“Mötley – ”
“Potly Brew?”
“No!” he yelled angrily. I closed my eyes dizzily. “Mötley fucking Crüe!” I sighed.
“I still don't know what you're talking about.”
“It's my band, Addie. I told you this.”
“That trashy band you're in? Oh. Sorry, I forgot.” He grumbled something incomprehensible. “What about it? You mean you want me to come and visit that shit circus with you? Are you kidding?” I heard him heave a sigh.
“We're not trashy, and it's not a shit circus. We're really good. We've actually got this little guitar player guy; his name is Mick. He's kinda weird and kinda looks like the Hunchback of Notre Dame but he can really – ”
“Yeah, Tom,” I said, my voice dripping with pessimistic sarcasm, “that sounds real intriguing. So you've got Igor playing guitar for your band. I'm sure that's a real showstopper.”
“Shut up, Addie. We're good, and you've gotta come see us. I promise it'll be worth your while.”Again, I sighed into the pillowcase. I didn't want to come see his band. I didn't wanna get out of bed, or leave Fallbrook, or have to drive all the way up Los Angeles just to watch he and his dinky little band play. I didn't wanna drive an hour-and-a-half and use up ninety-two miles' worth of gas just to watch my brother prance around a stage wearing high heels and eye makeup. To be honest, I didn't love him enough to spend the time or effort watching him act like a trannie.
“Look, Tommy,” I said, deciding to give it to him easy, “I really don't have the money or the time to be coming up and seeing you play, let alone go on an entire tour with you. I've got other priorities, work, stuff like that, you know?”
“Work?” he asked incredulously. “You don't work! You don't even have a fucking job! What are you talking about, 'not enough time?' Why the fuck can't you just come see me play, for once in your life?” He sounded hurt and pissed off. I frowned and felt my cheeks heat up in shame. That was a good question, wasn't it?
“I'm sorry, Tommy...”
I sat on the line, waiting for him to speak in an unbearable silence. I felt so stupid for lying to Tommy like that. We were brother and sister, and closer than anything. I shouldn't have had to lie about it. And why couldn't I just give in and do it for him? Was I that stuck up?
“I'll go,” I finally mumbled after several uncomfortable moments, trying to sound at least a tiny bit happy about it. Cynicism still filled my voice. I could tell he almost immediately perked up, relieving my guilt.
“Really?” he asked in disbelief, sounding like he'd never be able to thank me enough if I came. I chuckled a little bit and nodded.
“Yeah, really.” He let out a whoop of excitement and started slurring gibberish.
“Addie! Thank you so much! I swear to God, you're never fucking regretting this.” I could heard the anticipation in his voice.
“Only under one condition though,” I interrupted, not wanting to get him too excited.
“Anything,” he replied, sounding like he truly meant it.
“You've gotta pay for gas money for the ride up there, you've gotta get me backstage passes, and you've gotta let me ride your fancy tour bus.” I paused. “Do you have a fancy tour bus?”
“You bet we do. You can ride it all the fuck you want. And I've got the gas money and backstage passes covered. Fuck, I'll even throw in a few t-shirts for ya if you want. I don't fucking care. Just as long as you get your ass up here and behold the beauty that is Mötley Crüe.” I rolled my eyes.
“Sure, whatever you say.” I heard him snicker.
“I'm so excited, sis. I promise, this will all be worth your while.”
“Let's hope so,” I muttered. “Now let me sleep.”
“Alright, I'll mail the tickets to you.”
“Cool. See you soon. Love you, bro.”
“Love you too, Addie. Don't hurt yourself hanging up the phone,” he joked. I sighed.
“Goodbye, Thomas.”
“'Night, A.”
I dropped the phone back on the hook and rolled over on to my side. I stared blankly at the wall, feeling a tad remorseful. Why the fuck did I just agree to that? I thought. This is going to be the worst few months of my life. I pulled a face.
Little did I know.
Brrring!
I jerked awake as the jarring cry of the telephone burst from somewhere nearby. It shot a sudden pain through my head as I sat up, my whole body aching as it begged me to fall back into the cozy contours of my bed. My eyes drifted open hazily, my heart thundering in my ears in bewilderment as the world started to materialize around me. My face felt numb; all but my forehead, which seemed to be on fire. I blinked for a few moments, too tired to compute what had just happened. I didn't know why I was sitting up. I couldn't place what had just woken me.
And then it came again: Brrring!
My mind swam as the brassy ring echoed around and tore through my migraine with severe pain. I turned my head towards the telephone, but winced. It was excruciatingly painful to move. Squeezing my eyes shut again, I slowly reached my hand out towards the phone, and picked it up just as it was about to ring a third time.
“Hullo,” I mumbled wearily, making it more of a statement rather than a greeting.
“Addie!” Tommy bellowed, sounding partially inebriated and somewhat shocked. I cringed at his deep voice wailing in my ear. Rubbing my temples with my free hand, I dared to squint down at the bright, white bed sheet covering my legs that seemed to drift through the depths of my drunken vision.
“Don't fucking yell,” I groaned nastily, though my heart did beat a bit faster at the sound of his voice. It'd been much too long since I'd heard from him. Last I knew, he was trying to sign a record deal for his shitty band at some trash-bin record company in L.A. But that was months ago. I was a little curious to know how that went over.
“Aren't you glad to hear from me?” he whined through the phone, mocking saddened sniffles. I rolled my eyes and wiggled myself back underneath my warm sheets. The warmth and protection from the sunlight that streamed through my dirty bedroom windows slightly soothed my pounding headache.
“Sure I am, but I've got the worst fucking hangover and I really don't care to make it any worse.”
He snickered and started to comment back with a snide remark, but I cut him off, asking, “What exactly did you call for, Tommy? I'm not in the mood for your immature humor right now.”
“Well, I was actually calling to surprise you...” he said mystically, letting his sentence trail off dreamily. I grunted. Wonderful.
“What's the surprise?”
“You have to guess,” he countered while chortling evilly. I moaned in agony. “Come on, Addie! Guess!” I sighed, giving in, and threw an arm over my eyes.
“You're getting married?”
“No.”
“You have a new girlfriend?”
“No.”
“You've found the woman of your dreams?”
“No.”
“You – ”
“Look,” he interrupted in slight annoyance, as if he were the one with any reason to be getting agitated at the moment, “It has nothing to do with women – ”
“My gosh!” I gasped. “You, for once, aren't talking about women? Shit, Tommy, you've got me stumped.” I could practically feel his glare radiating through the phone line.
“Really funny, sis. Hilarious.”
“Just tell me, T,” I begged. I rolled over and pressed my face into the pillow as he debated whether or not to relent. After a few moments, he sighed.
“Fine,” he compromised, sounding just as drunk and giddy again, “But only if you promise not to scream excitedly when I tell you.” I almost laughed.
“Yeah, right; whatever you say.”
He giggled in personal excitement a few times, causing me to have to hold in a few laughs. Then he whispered feverishly, “You, Athena Lee, are invited to embark on the journey of a lifetime! You...and me...and the three most talented musicians in the world...are invited to come and experience the magic that is....” He paused for dramatic effect, then, without warning, screamed, “MÖTLEY CRÜE!” I flinched and held the phone away from my ear as he let out a wailing battle cry. Pain shot through my head again.
“Tommy,” I whined in pain and confusion, after he had finished screaming, “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Who the hell is Hotly Threw?”
“No, sis, Mötley Crüe.”
“Dotley Shoe?”
“Mötley – ”
“Potly Brew?”
“No!” he yelled angrily. I closed my eyes dizzily. “Mötley fucking Crüe!” I sighed.
“I still don't know what you're talking about.”
“It's my band, Addie. I told you this.”
“That trashy band you're in? Oh. Sorry, I forgot.” He grumbled something incomprehensible. “What about it? You mean you want me to come and visit that shit circus with you? Are you kidding?” I heard him heave a sigh.
“We're not trashy, and it's not a shit circus. We're really good. We've actually got this little guitar player guy; his name is Mick. He's kinda weird and kinda looks like the Hunchback of Notre Dame but he can really – ”
“Yeah, Tom,” I said, my voice dripping with pessimistic sarcasm, “that sounds real intriguing. So you've got Igor playing guitar for your band. I'm sure that's a real showstopper.”
“Shut up, Addie. We're good, and you've gotta come see us. I promise it'll be worth your while.”Again, I sighed into the pillowcase. I didn't want to come see his band. I didn't wanna get out of bed, or leave Fallbrook, or have to drive all the way up Los Angeles just to watch he and his dinky little band play. I didn't wanna drive an hour-and-a-half and use up ninety-two miles' worth of gas just to watch my brother prance around a stage wearing high heels and eye makeup. To be honest, I didn't love him enough to spend the time or effort watching him act like a trannie.
“Look, Tommy,” I said, deciding to give it to him easy, “I really don't have the money or the time to be coming up and seeing you play, let alone go on an entire tour with you. I've got other priorities, work, stuff like that, you know?”
“Work?” he asked incredulously. “You don't work! You don't even have a fucking job! What are you talking about, 'not enough time?' Why the fuck can't you just come see me play, for once in your life?” He sounded hurt and pissed off. I frowned and felt my cheeks heat up in shame. That was a good question, wasn't it?
“I'm sorry, Tommy...”
I sat on the line, waiting for him to speak in an unbearable silence. I felt so stupid for lying to Tommy like that. We were brother and sister, and closer than anything. I shouldn't have had to lie about it. And why couldn't I just give in and do it for him? Was I that stuck up?
“I'll go,” I finally mumbled after several uncomfortable moments, trying to sound at least a tiny bit happy about it. Cynicism still filled my voice. I could tell he almost immediately perked up, relieving my guilt.
“Really?” he asked in disbelief, sounding like he'd never be able to thank me enough if I came. I chuckled a little bit and nodded.
“Yeah, really.” He let out a whoop of excitement and started slurring gibberish.
“Addie! Thank you so much! I swear to God, you're never fucking regretting this.” I could heard the anticipation in his voice.
“Only under one condition though,” I interrupted, not wanting to get him too excited.
“Anything,” he replied, sounding like he truly meant it.
“You've gotta pay for gas money for the ride up there, you've gotta get me backstage passes, and you've gotta let me ride your fancy tour bus.” I paused. “Do you have a fancy tour bus?”
“You bet we do. You can ride it all the fuck you want. And I've got the gas money and backstage passes covered. Fuck, I'll even throw in a few t-shirts for ya if you want. I don't fucking care. Just as long as you get your ass up here and behold the beauty that is Mötley Crüe.” I rolled my eyes.
“Sure, whatever you say.” I heard him snicker.
“I'm so excited, sis. I promise, this will all be worth your while.”
“Let's hope so,” I muttered. “Now let me sleep.”
“Alright, I'll mail the tickets to you.”
“Cool. See you soon. Love you, bro.”
“Love you too, Addie. Don't hurt yourself hanging up the phone,” he joked. I sighed.
“Goodbye, Thomas.”
“'Night, A.”
I dropped the phone back on the hook and rolled over on to my side. I stared blankly at the wall, feeling a tad remorseful. Why the fuck did I just agree to that? I thought. This is going to be the worst few months of my life. I pulled a face.
Little did I know.