The Guitar Player And Me

14 - Jupiter part 1

I tried to go back to sleep, as it was really early. Brian's phone started to ring. And ring. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head to drown out the sound. As soon as it stopped, my phone started ringing.

I picked it up.

"I swear to God why are you people calling me at the crack of dawn?"

"Uh, hi, I'm trying to reach Brian. Is he there? He isn't answering his phone."

"He's in the shower. Can I give him a message?"

"No that's ok, I'll try back in a few. Say, are you Marsha? He's talked about you."

"Marissa. And when did he mention me? And what did he say?"

"Only good things, trust me."

"I don't even know who I am taking to, and you ask for trust? You know who I am, obviously."

"I'm Roger. But you can call me, well, Roger I suppose, since you're Brian's girl."

"He told you I was his girl? Oh we need to have a talk."

I heard Roger snicker. "Go easy on him. He really has it bad for you."

The water stopped running.

"We have talked about this." I told Roger.

"Speaking of," he interrupted me, "is he taking care of you? In every way?"

I didn't know how to answer that. "Um--"

"That means no. Put him on the phone."

Brian was just coming out of the bathroom, his curls dripping water on my floor.

I handed the phone to Brian. "What did you say to her, you bloody wanker?" He yelled at his friend.

I lost it in a fit of giggles. I went to the kitchen in search of my morning Diet Pepsi and decided that was my new catch phrase.

Driver cuts me off as I'm trying to cross the street - "you bloody wanker!"

The annoying phone calls I get - "I don't even have a car, why do I need insurance, bloody wanker?"

I could hear Brian's side of the conversation.

"No Rog, it's morning. London is 6 hours ahead of New York, not behind. Yes. Yes I'm sure. Really, it's daytime here. Ok. I will talk to you later. Bye Rog."

He handed my phone back to me.

I peeked in the grocery bags, still sitting on the table. Brian must be creating some vegetarian delight. I think every vegetable known to man was in the bag. Not a bit of chocolate in sight.

"Out of the bag." He scolded me.

"My kitchen."

"My food."

Okay, he had me there.

"What are you making?" I asked. "I'm supposed to eat protein at every meal. Veggies are nice but not enough protein."

"I got eggs and cheese for you. Plus I'll add whatever veggies you like. And bread. For toast." He rifled through the bags. "Let's see, orange juice, strawberries, pineapple, and if you're good there is a chocolate bar."

"How good? And until when?" I wanted that chocolate.

"I get to decide that."

Damn he was demanding.

"So, I had an idea," he started. "Does your cycler have to be run during the night, or could you do it earlier and have the night free?"

"I never thought about it." I told him. "I suppose I could get on this afternoon. Why?"

"I want to take you somewhere. Show you something."

"At night?!"

"Yes. Make sure you dress warm. Now," he grinned. "What do you want with your eggs?"