deadly nightshade | fever in, fever out

chapter 63: dark veils

"So I'm gonna be the date to your wedding and she asked you to be her maid of honor?" Joey asked her. It was at least another month away from spring break and exactly two weeks from Anthrax's brand new tour, and instead of studying for a couple of tests ahead of time, Sam and Joey took a little day trip out to the lake shore in North Syracuse. He offered to take her to the hockey rink but they soon found the place was closed for a bit of cleaning. They sat by the shore with cups of ice cream in hand and an umbrella over their heads, despite the overcast skies. Even though the first dates were in New York, she knew it would be the last time they would hang out together in a long time.
"That's what it is," she told him as she lifted a bite of vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles to her mouth. "Take it or leave it."
"Pfff, no contest. You know I'm gonna take it. The problem is what can I wear to it, though. I got chocolate sauce all over the suit I wore to Kirk and Rebecca's wedding."
"How'd you get chocolate sauce all over it?" she asked him, stunned.
"No idea. I just took it out of my suitcase when I got back home and I spotted sauce all over the sleeves and the pants. Checked it, too—it was in fact chocolate sauce."
"It's nothing a little wash can't fix, though," she pointed out with a shrug.
"Dry clean only. Kinda hard to come by 'round here, too. And we've got a tour coming up!"
"Oh, I see. Well, if it's any comfort, Joey, it's gonna be a steampunk wedding, though—Aurora said she's going to make myself, Marla, Belinda—and, interestingly enough Alex, wear a lot of brassy and metallic colors. It's interesting especially with her being Korean and everything—you would think she would play into her own heritage a bit. But she told me she wants a straight up American one."
"Alex is gonna be part of the bridal party?" Joey laughed, but Sam could see the vindictive look in his eyes.
"Yeah, he's gonna be the bridesman, instead of the bridesmaid. Aurora told him he can wear anything as long as it's an earthy tone or something metallic."
"Did no one else take up the offer? Not even Marsha or Bel?"
"He suggested it," she told him. "And no, Belinda is gonna be with us. Rebecca pulled out last minute and Zelda's got problems of her own right now with the Cherry Suicides. So he called Aurora and she told him what was going on, and he put his hand up and said, 'let me be part of it. I'll do it. I'm an adult now.' And she was like 'okay, yeah!' Speaking of the Cherry Suicides, those girls are finally getting what they deserve, Joey. They're finally gonna embark on a big tour—if Aurora's notes are anything to go by, we might be seeing a record from them in the future, too!"
"Yeah, that's right! They're going on tour with us. If they do make a record, you have to be a big part of it, though. You and Zelda being friends and whatnot."
"It's only fair," she added.
"Right. It's absolutely positively only fair—" He stuck a bite of chocolate ice cream into his mouth and nodded his head. "This is so good," he remarked.
"Oh, yeah—easily some of the best I've had in a long time."
"I just think about Zelda's worries that they could break up if something didn't give for them," she recalled in a soft voice. "And the kiss she gave Aurora when the news let out."
"So what's next?" he asked her with his eyebrows knitted.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you do next? Go shoppin' for nice dresses?"
"Yup, we go looking for nice dresses... tomorrow, actually. Tomorrow being Saturday. Aurora, Marla, and I are gonna take Mr. Alex up to Scarsdale, and Belinda's coming with us, too. The three of us are gonna look for beautiful dresses, he's gonna look for a cute little suit, and Belinda is going to see if she can score something at a glass shop."
"For a second, I thought you were gonna say she's gonna get you drunk as hell," he joked, and that brought a laugh out of her.
"Nah, not for another few years with Alex around." Every mention of his name made Joey grimace a little bit, but she didn't mind. If Joey was to coexist with Alex, he had to learn to live with him. Things on the tour need not be awkward.
"Besides, the date is June first. You guys are gonna be touring in Providence on that day."
"Yeah, we are." The grimace disappeared in favor of that lopsided grin once again.
"So she and Emile are gonna do the legal binding stuff first thing that morning and then the actual wedding will take place right before the Cherry Suicides go onstage out there. Gonna be so special in Rhode Island on that day."
"Said you're gonna be in Scarsdale tomorrow," he recalled.
"Yeah. Why?" She squinted her eyes at him. "You're gonna be in Scarsdale tomorrow, too?"
"Gotta get a new rack for myself—new microphone rack so I can hear things from the sound board while I'm singin'."
"I'll keep an eye out for you," she promised as she raised her cup to him, and they made a toast with each other.
Joey set down his cup of ice cream and took another large spoonful of it. He gazed out to the dark glassy waters of the lake with a distant look on his face.
"You know, I hate to take ya out all this way only just for ice cream," he confessed. "I kinda wanna... do something more."
"Like what?"
"Well... have you listened to Spreading yet?" To which she shook her head.
"No, I haven't heard a peep from Danny since Kirk and Rebecca's wedding—and he's the one who offered me to use his record player, too."
"I'll take care of ya," he promised her as he took one last bite of chocolate ice cream, and he gestured for her to follow him back to his car. He held the door for her and she slid right into the warm and dry front seat: she still hadn't eaten up the rest of her ice cream by the time Joey started up the car and they rolled out of there. She savored it all the way down to his apartment in Camillus lest she cover the floor of his brand new car with a bit of trash.
He held the front door for her and he offered to take her coat for her. She showed him a warm little smile.
"Where'd this come from?" she asked him as he lay their coats across the top of the couch.
"Where'd what come from?" He hesitated with a befuddled look on his face.
"All this. Holding the door for me. Taking me home with you. Taking my coat."
He nibbled on his bottom lip but he didn't reply to that.
"Joey," she started, and her heart fluttered inside of her chest. He was silent as he strode on past her into the kitchen. Bewildered, Sam watched him reach for a glass out of the cupboard and he poured it full with clean water. He drank it down in four large gulps, albeit with his back to her.
"Joey," she repeated.
"Yes?" he said, still with his back to her.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
He sighed through his nose and then he filled the glass with more clean water.
"Not really," he answered in such a soft voice that she could barely hear him. He guzzled down the next glass of water right there, and then he set the glass down on the counter next to him. He strode back into the front room to meet up with a confused Sam.
"Also, um... about the time you and Belinda were here. If I'm being perfectly honest with you, I—I kinda felt free. Like empowered."
"I thought so. You really looked—comfortable in front of us there."
"I got nuthin' to tell you, but—" He lowered his gaze down to her body: she had lost a little weight, especially since Cliff died, but then she gained back some of it since the start of the winter quarter. He brought his eyes back up to her head and shoulders, and he moved in closer to her with his hands tucked inside of his jeans pockets. He stood before her with his chest pointed out a little bit.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked her in a low, husky whisper.
"I don't—know," she confessed. He took his hands out of his pockets and he put them around her upper back so she moved in closer to him. There was a half of an inch between her and his chests, but she could feel his pounding heartbeat. She could feel his lust.
But she shook her head.
"Joey, I can't," she begged as she pried away from him.
"Why not?" He kept his hands on her shoulders and his gaze fixated on her face. She swallowed at the sight of him.
"I don't think I'm ready to open my heart again," she confessed.
"I'll take care of your heart, though," he promised. "I swear to you that I'll take care of it."
He then ran his fingers through the black curls on the side of his head so she could see more of his face as well as the edge of his ear.
"You're all about my feeling comfortable," he pointed out.
"Yeah. What's that got to do with it?"
"Well, I want you to be comfortable, too."
He gestured for her to follow him, and before she could ask where they were headed, he led her down to the couch cushions. Once she was seated across from him, he inched in closer to her. He rested a hand on her knee, and she hesitated for a second.
"We'll go slow," he started, and then he turned his head a bit to the shelves across the room. "Sit tight. Sump'n's missing."
He stood up right then and walked past her to the shelves with the records. He crouched down to the lowest one for a record she hadn't seen before, or at least one she didn't recognize at that given moment. He took the piece of vinyl out of the paper sleeve and he cradled it right in between his finger and his thumb as he lifted the glass covering on the record player. She raised her eyebrows at his turning it on and his setting the record on the phonograph: he set the needle upon the groove, and then he turned to her.
She recognized those hard crunching guitars. That big guttural bass. Those drums that sounded like a blacksmith hammer.
That voice.
Her face lit up at the sound of it and he nodded his head. He took his seat once more, right in front of her so their knees brushed against each other.
"Welcome to Spreading the Disease—and now we are Among the Living," he whispered as his own recorded voice rang out right there. He leaned in closer for the kiss on her lips but then he stopped himself.
"What's the matter?" she asked him in a soft voice.
"Touch me, my young and free," he told her.
"Touch you? Where?"
"My hair first."
With a flex of her fingers first, Sam lifted her hands up to the sides of his head. He closed his eyes to better take in the feeling. That soft but coarse black hair against her skin: even softer down by the roots. She never wanted that softness to go away: she massaged his head all the way through Dan's solo and Charlie's rapid fire drums.
"Now my neck," he whispered as that first song bled into the next one, the one that she remembered from their very first performance for her. "It's a madhouse..." he muttered to himself as she slid her hands down onto his shoulders. He then opened his eyes and gazed on at her.
"Have you seen that video?" he asked her.
"I haven't, no. I don't even have a TV."
"Oh, man! Another thing I gotta show ya."
He closed his eyes again to better relish in the full body massage. She swore that, at any given second, he would lean in for a kiss on her lips and they would make out there on the couch. He often came close, especially during that song "Armed and Dangerous", when she had her hands around his waist for a feel of his extra soft skin there. Those dark eyebrows right in her face. The tip of that straight nose within mere fractions of an inch from her own. She could feel the warmth of his body right in front of her.
He was so soft that even though she swore she wasn't ready for another opening in her heart, she wondered more about him. What lingered within that venom, that deadly nightshade.
She reached his ankles and his feet by the time the closer, "Gung Ho!", started.
"We're going so slow and yet the music is so fast," she remarked.
"Fast and loud and hard—this was us the past year, and even more so this year."
She had to stop what she was doing to his feet and ankles to better pay attention to Charlie's kick drums, as fast and fluttery as a machine gun.
"Crazy, right?" Joey asked her with a chuckle.
"Surprised his legs didn't fall off," Sam confessed with a beaming smile.
"I guess that's a thing—it's called 'blast beats'—that's been around the New York hardcore scene, and he just picked it up and was like 'yeah, this'll work for us!' Charlie does it, Lars does it, and I think Louie from Testament does, too."
Indeed, she thought back to the first time she saw the Cherry Suicides onstage: Zelda did do that a little bit and she never broke out a sweat once. The outro consisted of more drum beats plus some shouts from the guys themselves and the word "NOT!" a handful of times, and then it just stopped. Joey laughed out loud at the sight of Sam lunging at the abrupt silence.
"So what do you think about that?" he asked her, out of breath.
"I think you guys are nuts but you rock, though," she said in a single breath.
"And thank you for the massage, too—that felt really good." He tilted his head back onto the top of the couch and Sam lingered there by his feet, and she listened to the soft crackling noises of the record behind her.
"So—we're gonna be in Scarsdale tomorrow," she said.
"And I will be, too." He lifted his head and flashed a wink at her. "Would ya like me to drive ya home?"
"If it's nothing too much to ask," she replied with a nod and a shrug of her shoulders.