Not This Time

Nina: May 30, 2008

     I sat back against the train seat with a huff, setting my tote in the seat next to me so that I didn't have to sit next to a stranger. The train was only still for a moment more before lurching forward toward home. I leaned against the window and watched people whizzing past just to disappear behind the subway tunnel wall.
     I closed my eyes against the sickening feeling that rose at the sight of bricks speeding past outside the window. As I sat there with my eyes closed, clutching my tote bag, my Karate instructor's words came back to me.
     You're doing very well, Nina. Congratulations on orange belt!
     I beamed to myself, opening my eyes. I glanced down at my gee and the orange belt tucked next to it in my tote. I felt accomplished that I'd gotten so far in six months. Along with the training courses I'd taken to further my knowledge on live mixing, I was pretty confident about returning to the 80s prepared.
     The train pulled into the next station and I pulled out my iPod. I stuck my headphones in my ears and scrolled through my music. It took me only a minute or two to decide on Bryan Adams. The train lurched again and took off as the guitars sounded in my headphones.
     "Yeah!" the Canadian sang, "Baby! I'm coming to get you!"
     I nodded my head to the beat and mouthed the words. As the song continued, the people around me disappeared and I jammed to myself. I could picture myself at a Bryan Adams concert, watching him rock fans from behind the soundboard at the front of house.
     "Can't stop this thing we've started!" Bryan sang, "You gotta know it's so right! Can't stop this course we've plotted! Oh yeah!"
     Cuts Like a Knife followed, and by the time we got to the next station, that song was fading out and the piano on next one was starting. I smiled out the window at the strangers on the platform as Bryan Adams' voice serenaded only me.
     "Look into my eyes," he sang, "you will see what you mean to me."
     I mouthed the words silently, "Search your heart, search your soul. And when you find me there, you'll search no more."
     I closed my eyes and imagined young Bryan singing this song specifically to me. Back in the 80s, he would be closer to my age. I swayed to the song and smirked at the impossible idea of being wanted by a rockstar. I opened my eyes and shook my head at the silly notion.
     "There's no love," he sang, "like your love. And no other could give more love."
     "There's nowhere, unless you're there, all the time, all the way! Yeah," I sang along quietly.
     I couldn't hear the station announcement over my music, but I knew that my stop was next. I stuffed my iPod in my pocket and gathered my tote into my lap, pulling the strap up over my shoulder.
     When the train pulled into the  next station, I held onto the rail and stood. I turned my headphones up as the doors slid open onto the station platform. I hurried off the train, like the people around me, ignoring the sounds of the train station.
     I tried very hard not to bump into people on the way up the stairs and down the sidewalk. The thought of someone getting close to me on the street still made my skin crawl.
     I stepped up to my apartment building and through the lobby to the stairs. Run To You started playing as I climbed the stairs to my fifth floor apartment. Singing the song to myself made it seem like there were less stairs than there actually were, and I was up to my floor before the song was even half over. When I got into my apartment, I closed the door, dropped my tote and almost immediately started singing along.
     "I got my mind made up!" I sang, unencumbered now that I was in the comfort and security of my own apartment, "I need to feel your touch! I'm gonna run to you!"
     I looked up to find Matt watching me make a fool of myself. I waved, but didn't stop jammin'. He looked amused, but didn't say anything in response. I couldn't hear him anyway; I was the singer onstage at a concert for myself.
     "Yeah, I'm gonna run to you!"
     I glanced over at Matt's girlfriend Emma, who looked excited about my cheesy dance moves. She looked about ready to join in.
     I grinned and kept singing, "Cause when the feeling's right, I'm gonna stay all night. I'm gonna run to you." I pointed at her as I danced further into my apartment. "Yeah! I'm gonna run to you! Oh, when the feelin's right, I'm gonna run all night. I'm gonna run to you."
     The music toned down for the bridge and I could hear Matt say over my music, "It's rude to sing along to your headphones. Nobody else can hear the music." I paused the song and both Emma and I frowned at him. We grinned at each other anyway and I shook my head as she reached over for a hug.
     "How are you, Emma?" I asked as I turned to retrieve my tote from by the door.
     "Superb," she answered, holding out the 'er' sound, "And you?"
     "Excellent!" I chuckled. Matt grinned at the two of us and shook his head. Emma went over to sit next to her boyfriend as I pressed the message list on my answering machine.
     "You have twelve new messages for Penny Chrysler," the robotic voice informed me. I frowned at the amount of messages I was going to have to prioitize for Penny before tomorrow morning. It was going to be a long night after the party she was insisting I attend with her.
     I turned away from the answering machine instead of checking the messages. "What brings you two here?" I asked sweetly as I waltzed past them toward my bedroom.
     Matt got up to follow me. "I came to tell you all about the past I doctored for you," he said, "and-"
     "I just wanted to come along." Emma interjected, finishing Matt's sentence for him.
     I smiled at the odd couple, taking down my hair from  its saggy ponytail so I could brush the mess down into something more manageable for the party tonight.
     "So what about my doctored past?" I asked as I ran the brush through my hair.
     "The official story is now that you ran away from home at age fifteen.."
     "Truth," I muttered under my breath as I split my hair in the back.
     Matt continued, "to New York City, where aspiring actress named Emma Valentine found you adorable, took you in, and gave you a job." He motioned to his girlfriend when he said this. "If anyone thinks to call Ms. Valentine for reference, they'll be speaking to the lovely Ms. Veta here."
     "Sounds about right so far," I said, starting to braid one side of my hair, "Go on."
     "Ms. Valentine made you finish high school in New York and, once you were done, she encouraged you to go on to do something you loved," Matt told me, "So you moved to Vermont to attend a Henderson Music Conservatory for Live Production."
     "Here's where we get to the lying part," I snickered, getting down to the end of my hair.
     Matt went on as I tied off the end of the braid. "You were certified in Live Production, but the school tragically burned down before you had a chance to graduate with a diploma."
     "Tragic," I mocked as I started braiding the other side.
     "From there, you moved to Sayreville, New Jersey to be near the big city without being in the big city," Matt concluded, "And the rest you've lived, so you know what the story is." Emma held a second hair tie out to me as I neared the end of my braid. I took it from her with a grateful smile.
     "So, except for the bit about going off to do something I love and the whole thing about the music conservatory, we're just changing Penny's name and going with the truth?" I scoffed, stepping over to my bathroom for some hairspray.
     Matt thought about it and then nodded. "Yeah, except for those things and the time travel bit. Pretty much the truth." I could see the nervous expression he had and glanced back at his time machine that was parked in my bathroom. With a smirk back at Matt, I took a step back into my bedroom and sprayed my braids.
     "Alright, then," I snickered, "Sounds like a plan!" I turned to Emma as I set the hairspray back in my bathroom. "You wanna help me find a dress?"
     Emma clapped her hands and nodded, running over to my closet with girlish glee. Matt and I exchanged confused glances and followed her less enthusiastically. As Emma searched through my clothes for something I could wear to the party, I leaned on the closet door and returned my attention to Matt.
     "What about my face?" I asked him.
     Matt raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I assumed you were gonna wear make up.."
     I grinned. "No, Matt," I laughed, "I'm still aging in the 80s. Penny's gonna start noticing when I look older than her." Matt frowned. I guess he hadn't thought about that.
     "What about a RevitaLight, Matt? I've got one she can borrow," Emma offered, crossing between us with three dresses in her arms. Matt gave her a look as she laid the dresses out side by side on my bed.
     "You've got a RevitaLight?" he asked disbelievingly.
     "Well it's my mom's, but.." Emma mumbled with a shrug.
     "What's a RevitaLight?" I asked.
     Matt looked over at Emma accusingly. "Look what you've done." Emma gaped at him.
     "What is it?" I repeated.
     "It's a gadget that uses a special kind of light to make you look young again," Emma explained, "It won't come out for another.." She paused to think. "..2,716 years."
     I grinned, figuring out some quick math in my head. "So it's from 4728?" Matt and Emma both nodded. I chuckled, "How does your mom have a RevitaLight if it won't be invented for another 1,166 years after your time?"
     Matt looked surprised, as if he hadn't thought of that. "Good question!" he declared, turning to look at Emma expectantly. Emma only offered a tight lipped smile. Matt cleared his throat.
     "It was a Mother's Day Gift!" Emma said.
     "You're un-gifting it as soon as we get home," he commanded.
     "But I bought that for-!" Emma started to protest.
     "Em, you know it's dangerous to bring technology back from the future." Matt turned from her to me. "That's the same reason you're not going to use one either. Not unless there's absolutely no other way."
     There was silence in the room for a minute.
     "So what are we gonna do about my aging then?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.
     "You still look your age," Matt reasoned, "We can cross that river when we come to it."
     I raised an eyebrow. "River? Don't you mean bridge?"
     Matt shook his head. "No, a river. Why a bridge? The river is the obstacle. If there's already a bridge over that obsacle, what's the point of the saying?"
     Emma and I exchanged glances. I rolled my eyes in amusement and the two of us went about our dress-choosing business as Matt retreated to the main room.
     I held up a sexy red strapless dress she'd picked out. I remembered picking it out from a resale shop when I'd first arrived in New York. It had a twisty trail of buttons down the front that held it together. I didn't feel flirty enough to wear a sexy dress tonight. I set the red dress back down on the bed and looked over at the other two.
     "No," I said flatly pointing at another strapless dress she'd pulled out, "Why do I even own that?" The dress was covered in shiny sequins. I couldn't remember ever having worn that dress to anything. I didn't even remember getting it. I hate sequins.
The last dress was a black and white, tea length, polka dot halter top.
     "Looks like that's the one," Emma commented as I held it up in front of me.
     "Oh how 50s," I sighed.
     She shook her head. "It's more 'teens."
     I gave her a look and corrected myself, "1950s."
     She laughed, "30-teens."
     I smirked and  shook my head. Boy, how times have changed.