The Boy From Hot Ice

I didn't want Jeremy to think I was some kind of freak or something. They practiced almost every night, or at least they did something in that garage, and I stayed across the street watching out my window. I couldn't actually hear them playing, and I wanted to invite myself over, but since Jeremy only asked me over the one time, I thought maybe he had good reason not to want me to join them.
It was always the same; Jeremy was the last to show up and the first to leave. He rode on that obnoxious motorcycle that I'm pretty sure he wasn't even supposed to be driving, and I'm pretty sure he only did it for the attention. For some reason, girls like that shit. Not me. Well, not much, anyway.
School wasn't going well. I mean, my grades were okay, but it was those prissy girls in the locker room after one of our basketball games that made life there a living hell. I was a very good player, but they called me dyke, freak, beast, and of course the old favorite, Frankenstein. I had gotten into the habit of showering and dressing in under five minutes, then leaving before I got the brunt of the abuse from Charlotte Kemper. That bitch.
I didn't really talk to Jeremy much since the night in the garage. We would wave hello to each other if we happened to cross paths, but we didn't talk. No big deal right? I mean, it's not like we talked very much anyway - he pretty much just asked me to watch the band play that one time and that was it. So why did I care?
Because I really needed a friend.
He had his little clique, those four guys with their band attitudes and the way they ogled girls as they walked up the stairs. They were pervs - real, living pervs. But Jeremy was always the one who seemed to do those things more to fit in than because he enjoyed it. I feel like he thought it was creepy trying to look at girls' panties under the lunch tables, but he did it because his guys did. I could see by the look on his face that this wasn't really his thing, and when it came to doing the more extreme stuff, like putting dead birds in the teachers' desks or spraying graffiti on the principal's car, Jeremy seemed to find a way not to be involved.
I had convinced myself that David only did these things because he was the leader of the pack, and he had an image to maintain. I believed he wasn't really that kind of rough-and-tumble, no-good derelict that Mrs. Feeny and some of the others made him out to be. He just needed a girl to make him good, and I would be that girl.
The school year was well into November before I started talking to Jeremy again. His locker was next to mine, so it was kind of hard NOT to talk to him. Still, we had managed to do so for almost three whole months, and I was going to change that.
"You like Poison?" I asked him.
"You mean like, what? Arsenic and stuff?"
I giggled because I thought he was joking, but he wasn't. "Um, no," I corrected. "Like the band."
He thought for a moment. "I don't think I've ever heard any of their stuff," he told me. "Why? They any good?"
"They're amazing!" I boasted, not really sure. I had heard one song on the radio that I really liked, and that's was pretty much the extent of my knowledge of them.
"I've gotta check than out sometime," he told me. "You got a tape?"
"Um, no," I confessed. "I really wanna get their new one, but it's a little more expensive than what kind of money I keep on me, and my mom doesn't buy that kinda music for me."
"Oh." He shrugged a little, apparently something he did a lot, and smirked at the corner of his mouth as he closed his locker. "Well, I'll keep an eye out. Maybe one of my friends has it. If they do, I'll take a listen and I'll see how I like them."
That was it. Our conversation was over. No invitation to a garage session, no info on David, no word as to whether any of his friends had talked about me that night. Just his word that he'd check out the band I pretended to love.
And then the silent streak continued. I think it took until after Thanksgiving break before we spoke again, and this time I was more determined to get invited into that garage again. I dressed up so well that day, pink miniskirt with black tights, light blue sweater with the fancy shoulder embellishments. I needed to be noticed, even if it was only by Jeremy, and I needed him to want me to come hear them play. I was gonna make David my boyfriend by Christmas no matter what I had to do.
Jeremy had dressed a little differently today, too. His hair was a little more slick than usual, and he wore a gray sweater with rolled-up sleeves and khaki pants. He didn't usually look like this, so it gave me a reason to start a conversation. I was grateful for that.
"You look nice today, Jeremy," I flirted.
"Oh, um," he tugged at his sweater a little and I noticed him blush, "Thanks, Liz."
"Special occasion?"
He twitched a little, then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You know Jenny Zelner? I wanna ask her to the Christmas dance, but I hear she doesn't like bad boys. And you know, I'm really bad ass usually, and I don't want her to turn me down."
I laughed to myself a little inside at how cute he was being. For a while, I really thought maybe he wasn't interested in girls, the way he was so awkward around them and didn't like to look up their skirts like the other guys did. Maybe it wasn't that he didn't like to. Maybe he just had respect for them. I had never really pegged him as the respectful type until now, and it was surprising.
"Yeah, I know her. Want me to put in a good word?"
His eyes lit up like Christmas trees. "Really? You would do that? Please tell me you're not kidding!"
"No, I'm not kidding," I told him. "But I guess if you wanted to thank me, you could invite me to hang out with you guys again next time you rock out in David's garage."
"Oh, I just figured you got bored when you were there," he said. "I would've asked you back before, just..." he let his words trail to an end.
"No, I loved it! I think it's super cool."
He gave me one of those looks, as if he was curious and confused and flattered all at once, but he rolled with it. Okay, come by tonight if you want. We'll be jamming from around five o'clock on, so come by whenever."
I smiled at his invitation and the prospect of seeing David up close and personal. But I had another reason to smile. It seemed I was finally making a friend.

I waited until everyone was there, including Jeremy, before I crossed the street. They still didn't know I lived there. Not even David had noticed. I mean, I'd only been back in town for a few months, and David barely knew I was alive, much less where I lived.
When I crossed, they were still just strumming a little here, clashing a little there, discovering their pitch and all that. "Hey, Liz," Jeremy said casually as I entered. I didn't even knock this time.
The other guys turned to see me, and this time David looked me up and down. He was totally checking me out!
"Hey, how's everything over here, guys?" I felt like the femme fatale in a house full of tragic band superheroes. "What are you working on?"
Kyle put his guitar down and grabbed a bucket for me to sit on. "Just trying to decide a band name," he said.
"You guys don't have a name yet?" I was surprised. They'd been a band for at least three months. How did they not have a name?
"We were gonna be The Fanatics, but that's taken I guess. Then about a month ago, we chose Frozen Stiff," David explained. "But numb nuts over here says it sounds like a cold boner." He was pointing to Jeremy.
"I just think we should have something cool, but not something sexual, you know. I feel like that's in bad taste." Jeremy was picking at his drumsticks while speaking, apparently not wanting to look me in the eye while he talked about something he was embarrassed about.
"Frozen Stiff isn't sexual," Jimmy shouted. "It's an expression!"
"Oh come on," Jeremy made his point, "Every time we say stiff, you chuckle.
Jimmy chuckled.
"So I suggested Hot Ice," David said.
"Oh, I just love that name," I smiled, hoping David would see how meant for each other we really were. "Totally boss."
"I don't know, it's too similar to Frozen Stiff," Kyle said.
"All in favor for Hot Ice raise you hand," David said. He and Jimmy raised their hands. "So it's two against two." He looked over at me. "You're the tie-breaker. Yea or nay?"
There was no way I couldn't agree with David, in spite of Jeremy's disapproving, pleading, and downright pathetic look. "Yea," I voted.
"Then it's settled!" David was so happy, and I loved that. He even came over by me and gave me a high-five. I don't think I washed that hand for a week.
Kyle and Jeremy just kind of whined for a bit before giving in and agreeing to the band name, though it was only because there were no other options open.
"Can we just play a damn song now?" Jeremy pleaded.
"Okay, yes," David took his place as front man, a buddy on either side, Jeremy in the back. They were like the Beatles, but better. To me, anyway. And I sat on my bucket in front of the garage door, the sole member of their adoring audience.
They played a song I didn't recognize. It wasn't bad, although they were quite loud. Jeremy and David were both experts at their instruments, while Kyle and Jimmy were only alright, but not bad as back ups. David sang solo the whole time, and he took my breath away. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
"So how'd we do?" Jeremy called from the back.
"Come on man, did you see her? She totally dug our vibe, man!" David had noticed me, finally.
"So how'd we compare?" He called from the drums again.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"That was their song," he said. "You know, Poison's."
"Oh!" I had totally forgotten I'd even ever mentioned them until now. "You were as good, maybe better."
"So I'm kinda like Bret Michaels," David smirked. "That's awesome!"
I didn't know who he meant, but I told him he was just like him, because apparently that was a good thing.
As we discussed the band and Poison and Mr. Michaels and all of that, we heard a knock. Opening the door, I greeted a policeman who very politely asked us to keep it down. Someone in the neighborhood had complained. After I promised we would, or rather, that the boys would, the policeman left. That's when the cussing began.
"Damn fucking assholes," David complained. "Those pricks don't need to fucking come to my goddamn house and tell me to keep it the fuck down! They can suck my dick!"
"Hey, man!" Jeremy called, "Language, okay?"
"It's fine," I mumbled. It did make me a little uncomfortable, but I couldn't say that when my future marriage was on the line.
"I guess we'd better call it a night, guys," Jimmy said. "We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow night."
Jeremy leapt up and headed straight for me. "Let's get out of here," he said, guiding me out by the arm.
Once we were outside, I just had to ask him why he always left so fast. But then I remembered he'd know I'd been watching, so I tried to make my own deduction. I couldn't. There didn't seem to be a logical reason why he would leave. They were great friends, and even when they disagreed, it seemed amicable. But it just seemed like he couldn't wait to get out of there, and I really just wanted to understand why.
"So where are you off to?" I asked, hoping that would give me a clue.
"Oh, just hanging out," he answered coolly. "Maybe I'll even hit up the music store."
"Oh, ok," I answered simply. "Ok, well, um, have fun."
"Well," he paused a moment, maybe trying to get up the nerve, maybe debating whether to ask me, or if there was a better way to do it, "You wanna come with?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, ya know, maybe you could help me find something good for a change. I'm trying to listen to new stuff, and I guess you can't judge an album by its cover."
I was flattered that someone was showing interest in hanging out with me. "Sure," I answered, far more casually than I actually wanted to.
He flashed me an uneven smile and handed me his helmet. "Ever ride before?" he asked.
"Never," I answered nervously. "But isn't this your helmet?"
"You take it," he told me. He even helped me pull it on over my enormous hair and snap it into place. "Ok, now just hold on tight," he said. "I drive pretty fast, but I'll try to take it easy this time."
I knew my mom would kill both of us if she caught the sight of me on a motorcycle with a boy she didn't know, so I hopped on and grabbed him tight, just as he ordered, and we were off in a flash.
I felt so out of place there. It wasn't half as sexy as I had always pictured riding the back of a hog to be. I was about three inches taller than him, and my body was about as thick as his. His "party in the back" kept flying into my face, making me more grateful for the helmet than the idea of safety did. My skirt was riding way up, and I kept pulling it down, trying to be graceful, but also trying to keep my arms on him. I was terrified of crashing, but I think I was more terrified of my mom finding out somehow.
We pulled into the parking lot of a music store. My thighs were numb from the vibration of the motor, and the loose fluff of my sweater was stuck to Jeremy's back. We were a hot mess, but if I thought that was bad, you can only imagine how I felt once I took off my helmet and got a look at my hair.
"Oh my god!" I screamed as I gazed at my reflection in the store window. "I look like a freak! Look at my hair!"
"You should see your makeup," he laughed. "If I were you, I'd pop into the bathroom and scrub that stuff off."
"I can't scrub it off! Do you know how bad I look without makeup?"
"Well it can't be worse than that," he smiled. He was right.
I tried to sneak past everything and everyone and just get straight to the bathroom unseen, but of course, this idea was easier in my head than reality. I must have bumped into at least half a dozen people on my way, and by the time I reached my destination, I was in tears. And that didn't exactly help any with my situation.
The more I wiped away, the harder I cried. I felt naked without my blue eyeshadow and pink blush and black eyeliner. I couldn't let anyone see me like this. And what would Jeremy tell David!
Once I had removed the makeup, I slipped back into the helmet and walked the store until I got to Jeremy. "I'm just gonna wait outside," I told him.
"What the hell are you doing in that helmet?" he laughed as he reached to remove it.
"No!" I cried holding it on and jerking back. "Seriously, dude, you can not see this."
"Oh, come on," he reasoned. "You look crazy with that thing on in here. How bad can it be?"
"Really bad, Jeremy."
I walked out to the bike and waited another ten minutes for him. He just looked at me for a moment before he made another attempt at removing the helmet.
"Stop!" I yelled. "Please, let's just go."
"What are you so afraid of?" he asked.
"I don't need anyone to see me like this," I told him. "I look like a weirdo."
"You are a weirdo," he told me. I couldn't believe he'd say something so mean, then he continued. "But so am I. Who isn't a little bit of a weirdo? You know who? People with no imagination or creativity. So if you look like a weirdo, welcome to the club."
"Promise you won't tell... anyone... what you see under here?" I asked.
"Promise," he smiled.
I removed the helmet slowly and he stared at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He had this uncanny ability to control his expressions when he really wanted to, and that's what he was doing now.
"I can see your face," he told me, still expressionless, like he was noting that the sky was blue.
"Yeah, get it out," I told him as I was tempted to cry again. "Tell me my real face is ugly. Tell me it matches all my other awkward features."
"You wear way too much of that crap, anyway," he told me as he mounted the bike. "You look fine. Now put that back on. I gotta get you home."
Home. Crap. It hadn't occurred to me that he would need to see where I lived. Crap.
"Where do you live, anyway?"
"I, um..." I tried to think of a different address, a friend's address, but I didn't have any friends anymore. "I live on Rodney," I confessed.
"Oh really? What part?"
"Th-that big white house across from David's," I told him.
"Oh, I didn't know you lived so close to him," he said plainly. I guess he didn't think it was as weird as I did. Then again, he didn't know I used my address to my advantage the way I did.
"But can you drop me at the end of the block?" I asked. "My mom will kill me of she sees me on this thing."
"I totally understand," he said.
He dropped me off where I requested. As I got off and handed him the helmet, I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks for hanging out," I told him.
"No problem. It's nice to hang out with someone who doesn't want to talk about chicks all the time," he said. "I mean, don't get me wrong - I love talking about chicks. But there are certain things I don't like talking about in certain ways and those guys, it's like it's all they can think about."
"Well, any time you wanna hang out, just let me know," I told him. He really was fun. And either he didn't mind how I looked without makeup and big hair, or he did a good enough job acting like he didn't that it didn't get to me.
"Oh, hey," he told me as I was about to walk away. "I got this for you at the store. I knew you were having a rough time and I thought maybe this would cheer you up." He handed me a paper bag. Inside, Poison's latest album on cassette tape.
"You didn't have to do this," I told him. I couldn't believe what a beautiful gesture was coming out of such a rough kid. Maybe he wasn't so rough after all. I hugged him quickly and started to walk back. "Thanks!"
"Are those tap shoes?" he asked.
"Yes they are," I answered. "But there is no way we are talking about that right now."
I could feel him watching me leave. Maybe he was checking me out. Maybe he was making sure I got inside okay. Maybe he just wanted to spend time with me. Maybe he really was being the kind of friend I'd been in such need of for so long.