The Sound

Part 4 - Eddie

It was hard enough on my weak heart to have to work around Jules, but now that I smelled like her, my heart hadn't stopped pounding. I was constantly catching myself putting my palms to my nose, inhaling the scent of her lotion – vanilla. I desperately hoped she hadn't noticed.

When I had punched in earlier, Alan grinned at me like the cat that caught the canary. I raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

"So, you and Jules?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows. I groaned.

"Stop it."

"Do you know that she thinks you hate her?" He went back to his paperwork. My stomach dropped, eyes widening. He looked back at me. "She wanted to change all of her shifts because she's convinced you can't stand to be around her. And I, of course, can't say anything, because you made me promise that I wouldn't."

I looked at my feet, crushed at the idea that she thought I hated her. I knew I was cold, but I didn't think I was that bad.

"I have no idea how to talk to her without looking stupid," I admitted. Alan groaned.

"Eddie, I have watched you flirt your way into almost every shop girl's pants that I've hired. You can't even manage to be nice to Jules?"

I flushed at his question. I did not understand what Jules did to me – it was like every human instinct I had betrayed me whenever she was even in the same room as me. I started to answer his question when she entered the office.

"Hey, guys!" I turned, watching her cross to her timecard. She was more done up than usual – she always dressed up for concert nights, I assume spending more time on her makeup and outfit choices. I also loved these nights for this reason. My throat tightened as I noticed the small sliver of her torso peeking through her crop top from under her flannel. I saw the hint of a tattoo design on her side, and felt heat start to creep up my neck. I turned on my heel and bolted out of the office.

I peeled my jacket off, tossing it behind the front counter, and started setting the chairs up. I rearranged the rows, promising myself that I was going to be charming and kind to Jules, showing her that I did not, in fact, hate her. I watched her leave the office, turning my gaze from her as fast as possible. I felt her stare, suddenly becoming self-conscious.

"You going to help, or am I going to do all the work as usual?" I internally cringed. It was going to be hard to get out of my own way.

---

People were filing in for the concert – the band had shown up late, stoned out of their mind and drunk.

Jules was her normal kind self, helping them set up and asking questions about the music they created. The lead singer, a dirty-looking man with hair longer than mine, had taken a shine to her, following her around and asking inappropriate questions. She kept politely shutting him down, trying to make people drinks and counting the cash. He leaned over the counter, too close to her face, trying to peck her cheek.

I suddenly crossed around her, in between the two of them. I leaned close to his face, towering over Jules protectively.

"Why don't you go back to your bandmates, buddy? You're about to go on," I sneered. He took the hint, slinking back to his instruments. I stayed where I was, glaring at him.

"Thanks for that, Eddie," Jules said quietly. I almost jumped, suddenly noticing our closeness. I tried to slowly slide over.

I had still not settled the strangeness of my compliment of her tattoos and felt enormously guilty from being so rude about her trying to help my dry skin. Dry skin that I had made up, because when our hands brushed against one another, it had felt like electricity ran through my body. I had no idea what to say to her when she had looked so embarrassed, thinking she had done something wrong.

I tried to play it cool when I was giving her my excess lotion – her skin was so soft, and I felt her watch me the entire time, making my stomach flip-flop. I further studied her tattoos that I never let myself look at, impressed by the different designs. The compliment had slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I was so mortified by it that I had to run off before she responded.

"No problem – musicians are creeps," I commented, laughing at my own joke about myself. She smiled up at me and I started helping her make different drinks.

The band finally started, eliciting cheers from the crowd and the line for drinks died down. Alan was in the back of the crowd, nervous like he always for these nights, even though they were always successful. I leaned back against the wall and found my mind wandering.

Jules was in front of me, watching the band as she bobbed her head. I smiled as she clapped at a mediocre guitar solo – she was always so kind, nice to people who didn't always deserve it. Especially scum bags like the band's lead singer. I winced.

I guess even to people like me, who made her think that she was easy to hate.

A sudden surge of confidence filled me, Nice Eddie taking control. I stepped forward, placing my hand on the small of her back, leaning close to her ear. I felt as nervous as I had the night before when I had done this, worried I was taking in her scent too long. Unlike her lotion, her perfume and shampoo smelled floral and like spring. I leaned close to her ear.

"Want to do a shot?" I asked, now brave. She turned, her face beat red and knitted into confusion. I smirked at her, trying to calm my pounding heart down. She looked around conspiratorially.

"Eddie, we're at work!" she hissed. I suddenly thought back to her goodie-two-shoes persona in high school, always wanting to be the teacher's pet. My smile grew.

"Yeah, and we're stuck listening to some shitty band, led by some creep who tried to make out with you," I whispered. "We deserve to enjoy ourselves."

I grabbed two of the plastic glasses and a bottle of whiskey, quickly pouring the shots. I handed a glass to her, turned my back towards the front of the store, facing the wall. I motioned for her to do the same, so Alan wouldn't see us.

She did, but stared at her glass, worried about something. I touched her shoulder.

"You okay?" I asked. She looked up, wanting to ask something, but incredibly nervous to do so. "What's wrong?"

"You...you aren't trying to get me fired, are you?" She looked like she felt so guilty asking me, dropping her gaze to her feet. I felt my stomach shrink. "I'm sorry, I really want us to be at least friends, but I just love working here, and I know you and I might not always get along—"

Cold, Mean Eddie was trying to wedge his way in – of course she wouldn't believe that I'm just trying to have fun with her. Don't even fucking try with her, it's not going to be worth it. I fought him back, swallowing hard.

"No, no, no, Jules," I interrupted, squeezing her shoulder. "I promise, I come in peace."

As a sign of goodwill, I held my glass up before shooting it back. I grimaced, the alcohol burning my throat. When I opened my eyes, she was laughing – a sparkling, joyful act – and nodded before throwing her drink back. She squeezed one of her eyes shut tightly, her lips puckering. It was my turn to laugh, and she joined me. She grabbed my forearm, right over my bat tattoos as she continued to giggle with me.

Her touch set my skin on fire, and I didn't shy away from it this time – Nice Eddie was actually succeeding.