Taught: A City's Secrets Novella (10 page)

But above all, I was relieved. The thing I had been working for most of my life, success in the music industry, was so close I could feel it. I didn’t want to be the kind of person who went to a job every day. The routine would have been nice, but sometimes I thrived on the chaos of touring and of performing. Standing outside of that old music shop, where people still bought actual vinyl records, I knew I was making the right choice.

“Yo Jim,” George said, waving. He approached from down the block, and was wearing his usual jeans and T-shirt.

“Yo George. Got dressed up I see.”

“It’s Sub Pop, man. They’re not a big label like Sony or something.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I didn’t exactly go all out.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Yeah man, just your usual stuffy professor look. It’s your thing.”

“What can I say, the undergrad ladies love it.”

“Speaking of which, how’s yours?”

“My what?” I said, looking puzzled.

“Your undergrad lady, idiot.” George shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, Emma. Man, don’t call her my ‘undergrad lady,’ that’s just too weird.”

He laughed. “You started it. Anyway, how’s it going?”

I looked out across the street again and pictured Emma’s expression on that rainy day. She had been very brooding, and I was originally worried that it was my fault. I thought the whole professor thing, and my wanting to take it slow, was putting her off. I was relieved to learn she had just gotten a bad grade on a test, but it was also an odd reminder of her status as a student.

“Complicated, mostly.”

“Yeah, it’s always like that. I’m hoping this meeting will simplify things.”

I looked at him sideways. “How’s that?”

“Well, if they sign us, you can quit teaching.”

I nodded. “I thought about that.”

“Yeah, and where are you leaning?”

“I honestly don’t know, man. I feel like if I left teaching, it would mostly be because I could see Emma for real. But that’s a little crazy, right?”

“Yep, that is a little crazy.”

I laughed. “That’s not the answer I wanted.”

“I know, but it’s true.”

“So you think I should stay a professor?”

“Hell no man, you should absolutely quit. If you were walking away from this job with nothing else, just to be with Emma, I’d tell you not to. But it isn’t just for her, is it? You’re taking a risk on your music. Otherwise, you’d quit teaching, record deal or no record deal.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” And I realized that he was. Whether or not I quit, my decision was going to be for me.

“She’s a bonus, though,” George said, grinning.

“She’s definitely a bonus.” For a second, I pictured her full lips and bright smile.

“What’s up, fuckers?” George and I both looked over and saw Tom coming toward us, a big smile plastered on his face.

“Hey Tom, didn’t expect you to be early,” I said.

Tom stopped in front of us, still grinning. We all shook hands.

“Look guys,” Tom started, his face serious, but George interrupted.

“Save it, man. We know.”

Tom shook his head. “Let me say it. I’m sorry I’ve been such a fucking asshole lately. No more being late. No more being too drunk to perform.”

“Tell your girlfriends that last bit,” I said.

“Really guys, I’m sorry. I wasn’t taking this seriously enough, but no more of that.”

“We know. It’s all good,” George said.

Before Tom could get more sentimental, Andy strolled up. We went through our handshakes and greetings and nervous jokes again, plus more apologies from Tom. We stood outside of the record store in a loose circle. Nobody wore a suit, which was good. I felt like we were in high school again, just four nervous teenage friends waiting to get up in front of a tiny crowd in some crappy dive bar.

I looked at them one at a time, the guys that I had known for most of my life, and reflected quietly on our career together. We had come from George’s basement, and slowly moved out into the wider world. They were my best and closest friends, the people who knew me better than anyone else. I couldn’t have chosen a better group of guys, despite all of our differences in the past.

We stood around, chatting about nothing, killing time before we had to go into the office. Finally, after what felt like years, the clock struck nine thirty, and we made our way over, each nervous in our own way.

––––––––

T
hree hours later, after the meeting, we spilled back out onto the street. My head felt dizzy and light, packed full with contract clauses and addendums. At first, it was intimidating as we sat around a large conference table with product managers and lawyers. They were professionals, serious people, and we fell into negotiations. Quickly, though, we realized they wanted to sign us, and were offering a pretty damn good deal. They walked us through it step by step, and didn’t rush us into signing. Andy had a pretty good head on him for business, and asked plenty of questions. Finally, we did what we had always wanted to do: we signed with a real record label.

After the paperwork was finished, they gave us a tour of the Philly studio. We went into the sound booth, met some of the engineers, and walked the historic hallways. Sub Pop had been around for a while, and had branched out into Philadelphia in the last few years. We were really lucky they decided to enter into Philly; without a label like them, I wasn’t sure we’d ever get signed. As it was, they were liberal in their policies and gave their artists a lot of freedom. I didn’t feel like we were selling out. Far from it, we were going with an indie brand, even if it was a big indie. They had an amazing reputation in the industry.

I felt overwhelmed standing in the actual studio. We played a few bars on the piano and house guitars, screwing around, giddy with excitement. I felt like a kid again, discovering music for the very first time. It was like we had never played together before, and we soon found ourselves jamming. Nobody asked us to stop; far from it, the engineers actually recorded some of the stuff we played. After an hour of that, we eventually had to leave since another artist had time scheduled, but it was an incredible experience playing in an actual music studio. The closest I had ever come was an old four-track recorder in our garage.

After jamming, we spoke more with our producer. We all liked him instantly, and he had really good success with artists before us. He said work on the new album would start in a month. We had that long to put together a rough sketch for its shape and sound, but nobody was thinking about that just yet. All we wanted to do was celebrate, and Tom was dead set on buying. Once we were done meeting with the producer and going over what’s next, we went into the elevators, and left.

As we walked down Market, elated and flying high, all I could think about was calling Emma and sharing the good news with her. I knew it was crazy, but she was the only thing I could see, and wanted to see. I pulled out my phone and wrote her a text.

1:13pm Me: hey just left the meeting, guess who is a Sub Pop artist?

1:15pm Emma: holy shit!!! Congrats!!!!! That’s really amazing

1:16pm Me: Thanks, we’re beyond excited. I seriously can’t believe it. I really can’t. it’s a dream come true.

1:17pm Emma: I’m really happy for you

1:18pm Me: Can I see you?

1:20pm Emma: When?

1:21pm Me: I don’t know, today. Now. As soon as possible.

1:21pm Emma: Come over in an hour. I’ll skip my next class.

1:22pm Me: I’ll see you in an hour.

I could hardly stop grinning as the boys piled into a bar. I followed them, since I had time to kill, but I wasn’t staying long. I told George right away that I planned on leaving, and he seemed cool with it. Tom was a bit harder to convince, but he came around eventually. They were happy to see me moving on, getting myself back out there, and if it meant skipping some of the celebration then they would have to survive. I knew we had a long road ahead of us, but we could do anything we wanted to in that moment.

Finally, after a celebratory shot, I said goodbye, left the bar, and found my bike. I rode slowly over to Emma’s, letting the comfort of pedaling clear my head. I breathed deep the city air, ecstatic and nervous all at once. I took the long way, still killing time, and enjoyed the sounds of the city. I couldn’t believe my luck, and my future was both uncertain and exciting. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about my teaching position, but it didn’t bother me anymore. I wasn’t trapped, and didn’t necessarily need to stay. I wanted to stay, but I had other options.

I took a right onto Broad Street and rode along with traffic. My stomach tied itself into knots thinking about seeing Emma’s apartment for the first time, and about what I’d do when I saw her. Part of me wanted to quit my job immediately and take her out around campus, but I knew that wasn’t necessary. I had to finish out my semester first either way. I glided left onto Cecile B. Moore Street and pedaled hard passed the athletic center toward the track and the soccer fields. I kept thinking about her body, her soft curves and her perfect lips.

Finally, I pulled out front of her apartment. I climbed off my bike and locked it to a nearby street sign. I realized I was more nervous to knock on her door than I was in a meeting that would determine my future. The executives and the lawyers were intimating, but they were nothing compared to her. Shaking my head at the absurdity of everything, I climbed he steps, and rang her doorbell.

I didn’t have to wait long. She pulled the door open, and I felt my breath catch. She was wearing short jean shorts, her glasses, and a simple black T-shirt, and she looked perfect. I took a step toward her, and before she could say anything, I took her face in my hands and kissed her lips hard. I felt her mouth open against mine, and her soft tongue and lips, and savored her taste and her touch. Desire flooded through me, and I realized that this was the best part of my day.

J
im took my face in his hands and kissed me hard and deep. I realized how hungry I was for him, and wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders. I drank in every second of his lips and mouth, embracing his shoulders and returning his kiss. Soon, we broke off, and I grinned up at him like a moron. I felt the heat grow in my core and my breath came heavy.

“Come on in, rock star,” I said.

He laughed. “Not quite yet,” he said as he followed me in. We went up a flight of stairs and I let us into my apartment.

I led him inside and gave him the short tour.

“Kitchen and living room,” I said, pointing to my right then to my left.

“Very nice, clean too.”

I laughed. “Are you judging my apartment?”

“I absolutely am, yes.” He gave me a devilish grin.

“Don’t be a dick,” I replied, and he laughed.

I walked back down the hall. “This is Lane’s room, this is the bathroom, and this is my room.” I pushed the door open and he followed me in. We stood for a second, and he glanced around the space. Small bed, small desk, small television, all crammed into a tiny room. It was a pretty average apartment. I realized he wasn’t snooping through my things like I expected him to, but was staring at me instead.

“You’re incredible,” he said quietly, and took a step closer. My breath caught in my throat. He wrapped his arms around my waist, cupping my ass, and kissed my lips hard.

It was the deepest kiss yet, and I could sense something in the way his hands roamed along my body, cupping a breast over my thin T-shirt. I pressed my hips against his, starving for his kiss and his body. After a few moments of passionate kissing, he pushed me gently toward the bed, and I sat down on its edge. There was something hard and needy in his gaze as he ran his eyes up along my body, from my tan legs to my lips.

“What happened to taking it slowly?” I asked as he knelt down in front of me. My lips parted and began to tremble.

“Fuck slow,” he said, and pulled my shorts off. I let out a small gasp and could feel the wetness between my legs grow.

“Okay, fuck slow,” I said as his lips began to kiss my spot over my underwear. I leaned back on my elbows and let out a small moan. After a second of teasing, he slid my black panties down my legs and gently pressed his thumb against my swollen clit. I let out a gasp and looked at him as he grinned back.

“I’ve been wanting this so badly,” he said.

“Me too,” I answered.

He dipped his lips toward my cleft and ran his tongue along my soaking spot. I let out a low moan again, and I felt him spread my legs further. His tongue found my clit, licking and sucking gently, alternating pressure and softness. I felt the pleasure build and roll along my stomach and chest. His tongue moved down my length and thrust inside, and I writhed against the soft moist pressure, letting out small moans. He raised a hand, running his fingers gently along my skin, and cupped my breast.

“Fuck, you’re good at that,” I let slip as he pulled away. I was breathless and dizzy from the way he had expertly worked my spot.

He grinned in response then moved up on the bed. I felt his warm body against mine as he kissed me, and the hard shaft of his cock pressed against my thigh. I reached down and grasped it through his jeans, gently but firmly stroking it up and down. After a second of kissing, he pulled away. He shifted to the side then pulled my shirt off, exposing a black lacy bra. His gaze lingered on my breasts as he came forward again, kissing my chest and neck, and he undid my bra. I slid it off as he kissed a nipple, gently biting and licking it. I let a small groan. Holy shit, my legs were practically quaking.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. I leaned forward and pulled his shirt off. He was more defined than I had expected, lean but strong, his muscles standing out firm on his chest and arms. I pushed him back, and then started to unbuckle his belt.

I kissed him as I undid the fly to his jeans, and then pulled away to slide them off his body. He was wearing grey boxer briefs, and his surprisingly large, thick cock strained against the thin cotton. I moved back up, supporting myself with my left arm, and kissed him again as his hands found my soaking spot, his fingers confidently ranging along my mound, finding my swollen clit, and rubbing gently. I shuddered with pleasure.