A Song for Julia

you so wild! You were really into the music.”
    What was different? I didn’t know. I thought of my mother, telling me not to do anything that might reflect badly on my father. As if she had any right to say that to me. I thought of the guitarist in Harvard Square, and how for a brief few moments, I felt free. I thought about how music had been the only thing that helped me survive high school.
    “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it’s time for me to live a little.”
    She grinned. “Well, I’m glad you came out with us. You don’t get out enough.”
    “I agree!”
    Soon we were back out on the dance floor, laughing, and at one point, singing along with a couple of covers. About thirty minutes after the break, I gasped when Crank pulled a girl out of the crowd, up onto the stage, and kissed her on the neck as she screamed. Then he reached around and grabbed her ass. What an obnoxious shit! But, she was laughing as she rejoined the crowd.
    Serena took the microphone about two hours into the show and said, “We’re just about done, because poor Crank has to go babysit! But first, we’re going to play our newest song, written by Crank Wilson just this week. It’s called, “Julia, Where Did You Go?””
    I froze as Crank opened the song with a slow, ascending arpeggio, the song a mournful wail. Then he started singing, and I felt my face flush. The first verse described the moment we met, just on the side of the stage in Washington. I took a deep breath, then another, as he launched into the chorus.

    I didn’t know how to say no
    Oh Julia, where did you go?

    Jemi leaned close and shouted over the music, “What’s wrong?”
    “I gotta go!” I replied.
    “Are you okay?”
    I nodded, but it wasn’t true. I wasn’t okay at all. I started to push my way through the crowd, but that was a losing battle. All I could see in my mind was Crank singing that stupid song, Crank grabbing that girl’s ass on the stage, Crank kissing me and me actually taking it seriously.
    I didn’t want to take it seriously, and the last thing I wanted was for him to take it seriously. Why did he have to write that song?
    I wasn’t even halfway to the door when the song stopped, and Serena yelled, “Metro Somerville, good night!” The crowd screamed and cheered and called for more, but the music didn’t start again for almost two minutes, and then it wasn’t live.
    Finally! I got to the door and shoved it open, gasping for air. It was relatively quiet, despite the packed traffic. I took a few breaths to gather myself and then turned to walk around the building and back to my car. I barely made it five feet before my cell phone started ringing.
    I took the phone out of my purse, snapped it open and said, “Hello?” in a tone I would normally reserve for my worst enemy.
    Turned out it was my mother. Again. My mother, who never, ever called me on my cell phone.
    “Julia. We need to talk.”
    I stopped in my tracks and rolled my eyes. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough of that tonight, Mother?”
    “Julia … maybe I was wrong. Too hasty.”
    I closed my eyes, feeling my entire body tense. I started walking, quickly. “Mother, I am so done with this! ” I spat the words out in a rush, not caring that they couldn’t be recalled. I reached my car and fumbled for my keys, finally getting the car door open and slipping inside as she spoke again.
    “You’re done when I say you’re done, young lady,” she said. I cranked the engine as she continued. “I don’t know where you get your attitude, or why you hate me so much.”
    “Maybe you should look in the mirror?” I said.
    “Julia, I’ve never done anything to make you hate me!”
    I gripped the wheel, the phone in the crook of my neck, as I shouted, “Oh, that’s rich, Mother! Will you just leave me alone for a little while?”
    Damn it! Why did she have to call me now? I turned my head back to look over my shoulder, and phone still cradled next to my ear, put the car in the reverse and pushed on the gas.
    My head snapped back when the car slammed into something with a loud crash, and the phone went flying into the back.
    “ Oh, shit!” I cried out.

    All he needs is to be accepted (Crank)
    “Go take care of your brother,” Serena said, a half smile on her face. She was drenched in sweat, beads of it sparkling in the hollow between her breasts. She looked hot as hell. “We’ve got this.”
    I put a hand on her upper arm. “Thanks, I owe you