Not This Time

Nina: December 31, 1986

     I scanned the table of goodies that had been set up for the party guests. On one end was all the healthy snacks like cheese cubes and veggie trays. On the other end was a variety of sweets. There were cupcakes, cookies, brownies, you name it. I stood at the middle of the table, in front of a large punch bowl that very much reminded me of every 80s prom movie ever. I kinda wondered if anyone had taken the liberty of spiking it yet.
     I looked around the room as I snuck a brownie onto my plate next to the cheese cubes and grapes I'd gotten from the other end of the table. Jon was off somewhere probably catching up with the party's host, Robert Kaluza. Otherwise known as Bobby. Yeah, that Bobby. The one that used to date the girl that my boyfriend was destined to marry. No doubt Dorothea was there too. Somehow Jon had managed to talk me into attending the party, even though I literally only knew him and David.
     Much like the last New Year's Eve party I'd been to, there was a lot of noise. There was music playing through speakers placed throughout the house. Every television in Bobby's home was tuned to Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve. There was a little under a half hour until the fateful moment that 1986 ended and 1987 began. A little under a half hour and I had no idea where anyone I knew was.
     After grabbing a bottle of water from one of the ice chests at the end of the table, I turned to escape to some couch that I could stay on and out of people's way until Jon was ready to go home. I guess I wasn't looking. I ran straight into someone before I got two steps from the table. My plate didn't get smushed, but everything on it slid straight off onto the floor.
     "Oh! I'm sorry!" I apologized, looking up at the guy I'd bumped into. He looked just as surprised and apologetic as I was.
     "No, it's okay! I wasn't watching!" he excused, helping me pick up the food off the floor. We got the food back onto my plate and I dumped the whole thing in the trash. He was scratching the back of his head when I turned back to him. "Sorry about that," he chuckled embarrassedly.
     "It's okay," I replied with a small shrug, "I didn't need the sugar anyway." He just smiled awkwardly, causing me to do the same. I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to say more or not. Maybe I should have simply walked away? Who knew. Regardless, the guy didn't carry on about his business like I thought he would.
     He was taller than me. He might have been the same height as Jon, but I wasn't sure; he could have been taller than him even. His hair was much shorter, though, and sort of chestnut colored. He had kind brown eyes and a friendly smile. I looked away, around the room, when he tilted his head.
     "I'm Daniel," he said, holding out his hand. When I turned back to him, he seemed to be studying me. I didn't offer my name back but shook his hand anyway. "My friends call me Dan, though," he went on with a shrug. Then he thought about it. "Or Danny depending on who you ask," he added with a slight chuckle, following my gaze as I looked back around the room for a familiar face. I couldn't tell if he was trying to flirt or if he maybe thought I was someone else. I just didn't know. His name rang a bell, though.
     I couldn't be sure that this man was him, but Jon had a friend name Dan. I knew of him from both stories Jon had told me and a song he had yet to write. Now Bobby's an uptown lawyer. Danny's a medicine man. I found myself humming the next few lines quietly as I stood there awkwardly in front the guy who may or may not be best friends with my boyfriend.
     As he went on talking about something or another, I glanced over my shoulder at the table, trying to decide if I wanted to make up another plate or not. I didn't even realize that Daniel had trailed off until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tilt his head the other way and shift on his feet. He crossed his arms when I turned back to him.
     "Have we met before?" he asked, studying me again, like he was trying to put a name to my face. In fact, that was probably exactly what he was doing.
     I could feel the surprise on my face, but, blinking it away, I narrowed my eyes a little. I was fairly certain I'd never seen this man before in my life. Heard of him, yes. Met him? Not until now. He couldn't possibly know who I was. I shook my head slowly, thinking about it for only a moment more before answering.
     "No," I said tentatively, "I don't think so. Sorry."
     "I swear I've seen you before somewhere," he insisted.
     I shrugged helplessly and picked up a grape from one of the fruit trays. Popping the fruit into my mouth, I turned away again to scan the room as Daniel tried to figure out where he knew me from. At first, I just saw a bunch of people. A bunch of faces that I couldn't identify. Then I spotted Jon.
     He was standing over by a set of windows that looked out onto the front yard and the people setting up fireworks to pop in the street. But he wasn't looking out the windows. He was talking to someone. I leaned over to look around a stranger standing between me and the other half of Jon's conversation. It was Dorothea.
     She was there, arm in arm with some guy I didn't know. I could only assume that he was her current boyfriend since she'd left Jon. He looked happy to have her on his arm. She looked a little uncomfortable, almost like she was trying to smile and seem happy. I couldn't understand, though. What did she have to prove? And to whom was she trying to prove it? Jon? When I glanced back at the singer, he looked just as uncomfortable as she did.
     To be exact, he was wearing his God-Help-Me face. The one he always used when he didn't want to be doing an interview but he didn't want anyone to know. The one he used when he was too tired to deal with screaming groupies but he was too nice to turn them away without a picture. I could see it on his face from across the room as he spoke to his ex-girlfriend and the guy she'd replaced him with. He didn't want to be there.
     At that moment, Daniel snapped his fingers. "I know! You were that girl!" he declared triumphantly, "From the show! Oh man, that was forever ago!"
     I looked over at him, trying and failing to connect with what he was saying. Of course I was a girl. That much was certain, but what show was he talking about? I'd worked so many in the past month alone. He didn't say anything more than that about where he'd met this girl, and yet somehow he expected me to confirm it. I blinked and then remembered that my boyfriend was stuck in a very awkward conversation with his ex.
     "Um, sorry," I said to him, glancing over at Jon for a second before returning my gaze to the guy I'd just met, "One second." He didn't try to stop me or object as I stepped away from him. I took the long way through the crowd, making my way toward the windows. I stopped a few feet away and put on the best super-fangirl face I could muster. Taking a deep breath, I started toward their conversation from Dorothea's side. "Oh my God, you're Jon Bon Jovi!" I squealed, springing toward him in what I hoped looked like excitement.
     Jon looked utterly shocked as I latched onto his arm. He smiled a little, still clearly confused, but also kinda amused at the same time. I glanced over at Dorothea and her boyfriend and pointed to Jon like I could hardly believe it. Jon tried to pry his arm away, playing along though I could tell he still didn't know what was happening.
     "I'm sorry to interrupt," I said quickly, motioning between the three of them, "But can I please please please please please have an autograph? I promised my friend that if I ever met you I'd get a signature and then I'd get it tattooed. Please please please!" I rambled. Jon smiled a little. He'd figured out what I was doing.
     He laughed a little and turned to the couple across from us. "Sorry, you guys," he chuckled, still trying to get me to loosen my grip on his arm, "Let me go help this girl out really quick."
     "Well we're gonna dash after the ball drops," Dorothea's boyfriend said. Dorothea glanced up at him from where her eyes had fallen to the floor. She smiled a little and then looked back at Jon and me. She didn't seem to recognize me, for which I was grateful.
     "Oh cool," Jon replied dismissively, finally getting his arm free and taking hold of my hands instead so that they couldn't roam anywhere a fangirl's hands might in front of Dorothea. "It was cool meeting you Jonathan," he went on, nodding to Dorothea's boyfriend. Then he glanced at Dorothea and smiled awkwardly, "It was good to see you again, Dotty."
     "Yeah," Dorothea agreed, watching me instead of Jon. I could tell she was, even though I had my back mostly toward her. I didn't dare face her too long. The better look she got at my face, the more likely it might be that she'd remember we'd spoken before. I mean, that guy by the snack table had recognized me from something I couldn't even remember, so there was no reason Dorothea might not remember me from something I actually knew happened.
     Jon glanced at me and smiled a little. "I gotta go ask Bobby about a marker," he snickered.
     "Thank you!" I cheered excitedly. I turned to Jonathan and Dorothea and said it again, just as excitedly. They both gave me wide-eyed nods and Jonathan raised a hand in a half-hearted wave as Jon escorted me away from them. He ushered me up the stairs, where there weren't quite as many people. As soon as we were out of Jonathan and Dorothea's sight, Jon turned to me and let out a sigh of relief.
     "How'd you know?" he asked quietly as we continued to climb the stairs.
     I shrugged. "You looked like you needed rescuing," I reasoned. Jon smiled at me and grabbed my wrist before peeking into one of the upstairs room. He pulled me into the room with him. I glanced over my shoulder as the hallway fell away. Then it was gone and the door was closed. Jon dropped my hand and stepped away from me. It was dark. There was nobody in the room with us. I could make out the shape of a desk as my eyes started to adjust to the sudden lack of light. Oh, it was an office.
     "What are you doing?" I whispered. I wasn't sure why I was whispering, honestly. We were the only ones in the room. Besides that, the music beyond that door was loud enough to cover any noise we made. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lock in the door.
     Jon turned back to me with what looked like a marker. "I'm giving you an autograph," he replied. I could smell the unmistakable scent of Sharpie marker as he uncapped it.
     Before I could protest, he reached for my arm and pulled me toward him. At first, I thought it would be fine; he was just gonna sign my arm. But no. He brought the marker up toward my face to try and write on my neck. I jerked away before he could, and he ended up marking my shoulder.
     "Fine," he chuckled, "That'll do." He scribbled his signature across my breastbone and onto my shoulder. Then he added the words 'was here' like a twelve year old's first attempt at graffiti. I gaped at the ink on my shoulder and then scoffed at him. He only smirked. "You said you wanted an autograph," he laughed, "Now you've gotta get that tattooed. Like I did." He tapped his finger on the Superman tattoo he'd gotten on his arm a couple months ago.
     "Bullshit, I do!" I retorted, snatching the marker from his hand. I capped it quickly and tossed it across the room, all the while trying to keep my hair out of the marker. The scent of it was right under my nose. It was all I could smell. I knew it was going to make my head hurt before too long. I scoffed and shook my head at the words on my skin, regretting my decision to cut this tee shirt into a strapless top.
     Jon smirked and stepped around me. "It's almost midnight," he muttered, opening the door. He held it open for me, motioning for me to step through. When I did, he followed me out and into the main room upstairs. There were significantly less people in the upstairs common room than there were downstairs, but there were still a lot of people. Most of them were mingling, some with significant others on their arms. I stepped away from Jon and over toward a vacant arm chair in the corner.
     Jon didn't follow me immediately. I didn't see where he went as I sank into the chair. To my right, standing wide open, were a set of double doors that led out onto a very small balcony. The door shielded me from the winter wind, but the chill still prickled the bare skin on my arms and collarbone. When I'd decided on this shirt, I hadn't anticipated being anywhere near open windows, or doors, without my coat.
     As I started to rub my arms, I looked up to find Jon coming back toward me with two glasses of champagne in his hands. He was wearing his coat now, which made sense because he hated the cold. The closer I got, the more I noticed how awkwardly his left arm was pinned against his side. He handed me the champagne glass from his right hand and then tucked his hand into his coat under his left arm.
     "I thought you might want this," he said quietly, tossing my the small leather jacket I'd brought with me. He'd snuck it through the crowd and up the stairs under his coat.
     "Thank you!" I sighed, setting my champagne glass down on the floor for a moment so that I could slip into the jacket. Jon sipped his champagne, looking away toward the television and all the excitement going on in New York. With my jacket on, I rose from the chair, champagne glass in hand. I wasn't worried about the frigid breeze as long as I had something covering my arms.
     The groups upstairs gathered around the television. I just leaned on the wall and sipped my champagne, playing with the guitar pick that hung from my neck. Jon looked around casually. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking about Dorothea. Maybe he was thinking about all the fun he was missing out on in New York. Maybe he wasn't thinking about anything and I was assuming too much.
     "Here it comes!" the announcer on the television declared. Everyone started buzzing with excitement, all eyes on the screen. Jon perked up and smiled over his shoulder at me. With a small smile back, I pushed off the wall so that I could see the fireworks outside when they went off at the start of the new year. Everyone chanted.
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