Rachel Burke - Love Bites

After my first conversation with Dylan, I understood the attraction. It was his voice. Not his singing voice, but the way he spoke. He had a deep, sexy tone and spoke slowly and deliberately, like he was half-asleep. It was almost hypnotic. He kept you hanging on every word. Renee also had a tendency to gravitate towards the mysterious, detached type, and Dylan was about as elusive as they came. You never knew if he cared, what he was thinking. He just stared at you with those glowing eyes.

The music started, and for the next two hours, I had officially lost Renee. The music had taken her. My beautiful best friend, with her tiny baby belly poking out from behind her coat. Swaying to the music. In love.

Throughout the entire show, her eyes never deviated from Dylan. At one point, he looked over at her and smiled ever so slightly, and I felt a pang of jealousy in my gut. I wanted that. I wanted someone to look at me like that.

Only that someone was 3,000 miles away, and he’d never look at me like that. Because he didn’t love me.

Los Angeles, CA

March 2009

David started coming around the house more often. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled. I tried not to be. I tried to pretend I wasn’t excited by the sight of him on my couch when I came home, the thought of him in my shower. I tried not to read into his mild flirtations, not to feel his eyes on me constantly. I tried to fight it. I did.

I started to think that maybe it was in my head. Maybe I was reading into it. But it seemed like every time Renee stepped out of the room, he’d inch just a tiny bit closer to me, stare a little bit more intensely. And he didn’t look away. The Stare.

One night, the three of us were watching a movie in the living room. Renee decided to go to bed early, and David stayed up to finish the movie with me. But he didn’t watch the movie. He watched me. I felt his eyes on me the entire time, waiting for me to look his way. I didn’t.

“Anyone ever tell you that you look like Denise Richards?” he finally asked.

“Every day of my life.” My eyes were still on the TV.

He kept staring. I finally gave in and looked at him. He was grinning. That wild-eyed grin. That we’re-sharing-a-secret grin.

“What?” I asked, fighting back a laugh. I couldn’t help it. He had this way of staring and smiling like he knew something you didn’t.

“You’re really into this movie, huh?” he asked.

I stopped watching it a long time ago, I thought to myself.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“Have you ever had Rocky Road popcorn?”

I whipped my head in his direction. “Huh?”

He stood up, walked over to my chair and grabbed both of my hands with his. In one swift motion, he lifted me to my feet. “Come on,” he said, pulling me behind him.

And there, in the kitchen, we melted chocolate and marshmallows, crushed almonds, popped popcorn, and threw them all together. David stood tall above me, so close we were almost touching, and without missing a beat, he shoved a giant fist of popcorn into my mouth.

I screamed, wiping chocolate and marshmallow wads from my face. We were both in hysterics. If this were a date, it would’ve been the best date I’d ever had.

The next day, Renee told me she wanted to break up with him.

Apparently, their differences were beginning to weigh on her, which I knew would happen eventually. You can’t fight the inevitable. Up until David, Renee hated jocks. She wouldn’t even look at a guy if he didn’t hold an interest in some sort of creative endeavor. I think David’s charm had succeeded in blindsiding her temporarily, but now graduation was creeping around the corner. She was starting to think about the future. And questioning whether or not David would be a part of that.

I couldn’t fathom it. She had Him. How could you give up those eyes? Those dimples? The way you felt inside when he looked at you?

Then I realized why. She didn’t feel that way. Maybe to a degree, but not nearly as close to the way I felt. I wouldn’t have given him up for anything.

I understood where she was coming from, but deep down, part of me hated her. I had been on an endless bout of bad dates for as far back as I could remember, hoping to find what she already had. And she was going to throw it away, just because the guy didn’t “get” rock and roll.

Since Renee relied heavily on my opinion, I did what any best friend would do. I told her the truth – that I thought David was great, but if she was having doubts, then maybe she should take some time apart from him to think about their relationship. Renee was flying home to Boston the following week to attend her grandfather’s funeral, so she’d have some space to evaluate their future while she was away.

I just honestly didn’t think that, in the end, she’d decide to stay with him.

It was almost one in the morning by the time the band was packed up and ready to go. Everyone except for the venue employees and band members had already gone home, so I was left in the smoke-filled backstage room with the Electric Wreck guys while Renee was off settling their bar tab. Dylan must have sensed that I was uncomfortable, sitting alone in the corner, because just as I was about to leave he sat down next to me.

“You like the show tonight?” he asked.

“You know you’re always great,” I said, although I wondered if he really did. No matter how many compliments Dylan received, he still seemed to doubt himself. Typical self-loathing artist.

“Do you have to drive back to the Cape tonight?”

“Yeah. It’s only a little over an hour. Not so bad.”

“Except at this hour.” He smirked. “You’re always welcome to crash with us, you know.”

Renee and Dylan lived in Quincy, which was only a 15-minute drive from the city, but I hated sleeping anywhere except in my own bed.

“I’ll be okay,” I said. “Thanks, though.”

“How are you kids doing over here?” Andy asked, sliding in between Dylan and me. He removed a joint from his pocket and held it in my direction. “You smoke?”

I thought about it for a minute. I wasn’t much of a pot-smoker because it made me sleepy, but I did have a long drive home…

“What the hell,” I agreed. “Here?”

“My car. I think they’re going to kick us out soon.”

I followed Andy through the empty main room, catching Renee’s eye on the way. She abruptly stopped her conversation with the bartender when she saw us leaving, giving me the thumbs-up sign. I made a joint-smoking motion with my hands so she wouldn’t get the wrong impression. She shrugged and gave me a smile that said, “Hey, it’s a start.”

Andy drove a black Infinity with gray-leather interior. It was much nicer than I’d imagined. I guess I assumed all musicians drove beat-up vans like Dylan did.

“This is nice,” I said, running my hand along the seat. It had that new-leather smell that I loved.

“Well, playing in a band isn’t the only thing I do.” He lit the end of the joint. “I also teach guitar lessons. And I taught music theory classes for years at the Art Institute.”

I took the joint from his grasp, looking around before taking a hit. We were parked in the lot behind the club, a dark, inconspicuous place. I felt safe. “Why’d you quit?” I asked.

“If we’re going to be touring more, I need the schedule flexibility. I’ll go back to teaching once we start working on our next album, when I know I’ll be home for a while.”