Explosion: chapter 1

         The way I came to meet Jack occurred on what was going to be a boring, lonely night at home that had turned into something much different, and nothing that I would have ever expected. I was having a quiet evening reflecting on what had been, and what could be. I was licking my wounds and quietly trying to mend a broken heart with sad music and candles.
         
         My boyfriend and I had moved to East Grand Forks, over 300 miles north of from Bloomington, MN, where we had been living. We moved to get a fresh start in  my old home town. Our goal was to become better people. Work harder, study harder, party less, and of course, grow closer together. Yet right from the beginning it started out shaky. Our relationship was always shaky, because of my quick temper and his stubbornness, but when it was good, it was extraordinarily good. After just a few months we spilt. We had been together from the time I was 18 and this was four years later. We couldn't handle the move, we were not growing together, we were growing apart.
         
         The relationship had some very difficult times recently, with him not coming home many nights and me growing frantic wondering where he was. Finally, he decided to end it. I was devastated, and for a long time I didn't do much other than sleep away the day, drink when I was awake, and cry. Yet looking back at that relationship I can now appreciate that the timing of our split was somehow meant to be. The world had other plans for me.... but I wasn't ready to accept that.

         
         I was so not ready to accept that, that I retreated  into myself  to figure out a way to get us back together. That's what girls do when they have just had their hearts broken by someone they loved. Many girls will call nonstop, which I did not do, I just plotted and planned and schemed a way to make our apartment so comforting and homey that he could not resist.
         
          We had a weird living situation that I figured would work to my advantage. We had a two bedroom basement apartment in the small northern town of East Grand Forks, right on the Minnesota and North Dakota border. We had lived there for about six months before he broke it off with me and now, neither of us had somewhere else to go. So we were still living together, in a way. All of his clothes were there. His things, his razor and shaving cream, his cologne, his movies and video games. He was there, but he wasn't. He spent as much time as he could with the new girl in his life. He lived with her, or at least that is what I thought. Maybe I'll never know where he was at that time, but he wasn't at home. I allowed him to leave all of his stuff at home because in my heart I knew that someday he would have this epiphany and come home to me. I just knew that he was coming home, to me, not his things.
         
         
         I was spending my evening in old comforting flannel pajamas, looking at pictures of us when we were happy.... a lifetime ago it had seemed, and I was only 21. I had on sad music to add atmosphere you know, Jewel I think it was. The small living room was lit only with about ten candles so there was a soft glow in our  apartment. We had a Siamese cat who was very cuddly and she was sleeping in my crossed legs keeping my toes warm as I leaned forward looking at those treasured pictures. I was obsessing over these pictures of us smiling and having a good time. Pictures of us hugging, kissing, and looking just blissful. I was feeling a pressure and tingle in my sinuses as I fought back tears. I had already spent so many nights crying and today was going to be different.

         I was hopeful this night. I had noticed that while I was out, he was in. He was looking at those very same pictures, he must have been because they were in a different place than where I had left them. I was a bit stunned, and I fixated over the fact that he had looked at those pictures. Seeing those pictures was going to change his mind. Seeing us blissfully happy was going to make him realize that he wanted to spend his life with me. I was thinking, I NEED to tell someone he's coming back, or it won't be real. I NEED a reason to go somewhere.

         When you're 21 these things seem so real, so true. You still kind of believe that if you wish hard enough for something it would come true.  So I decided to go to the grocery store, I was out of toilet paper, or at least that was my excuse to get out of the house. Plus, I was going to stop at the bar where I had just started a DJ job to tell my cousin Mary that he was coming back.

         So I went out. I slid on a pair of jeans that were on the floor and kept the too big, too old, flannel pajama shirt on. I covered myself with my favorite white wool sweater and pink UND hat, grabbed my purse and keys and headed out the door. I was going to tell Mary my great news. My boyfriend of four years, my life and joy, my soul mate, was going to realize that he had made a horrible mistake and come back to me. I walked into the smoky bar, sat down at the chair closest to the door, lit a cigarette, and waited for my cousin to notice me. I sat near the door because I wasn't going to stay long, I was just out for toilet paper right?
         
         She came a few minutes later with a cheerful "Hey cousin! How are you doing today? You look like you're doing better."

          Mary is a year and a half older than me, and a few inches shorter than me. She has shoulder length silky blond hair and a smile that is perpetually on her face. She's always cheerful, weather or not it's what she really feels, she's always cheerful.  She was like a sister to me growing up because we were both raised as an only child. She was a person I envied because she was older, got better grades, and was closer to our grandparents than I was. She was a cheerleader in high school, she was popular, and never did anything that would have gotten her in trouble. The total opposite of me, but I was close to her anyway.

         Mary was the only person around this town that I felt fully comfortable around and really my only friend. I regarded her opinion on the topic of relationships highly, though I can only remember her having one serious boyfriend over the length of her life. She seemed so knowledgeable, so much more wise than I. That's why I came to see her.

          "Would you like a drink?" she asked me in her usual chipper tone.

         "Sure, but I have GREAT news, and I can't stay long," I told her quietly and a little excited as well; I ordered a beer. Of course the magnificent news I told her was that my boyfriend had looked at those pictures, seen us happy, and was going to change his mind and come home. I knew it, I could feel it. I had my hopes up, I was looking to her for reinforcement, encouragement, and for her to agree with me and tell me it's going to all work out. That he and I were going to live happily ever after and get married and have a ton of babies. But she deflected. She told me that yes, it may all work out well, but I should start looking elsewhere. Why else had I started the job at the bar? She has always been good at pointing out the obvious to me. Things that I may ignore.

         That was the truth, I needed a change after the breakup and working at the bar where she worked seemed like a lot of fun. She was popular, had so many friends, and always seemed to be going to some party or another. So I asked the manager about a DJ job one night, because it looked like fun. I got hired on the spot even though I had been drinking the night I inquired about the job and had absolutely no DJ experience. I was instantly making friends, and even seemed to have turned a few of the bartender's heads. I was feeling attractive and popular working there, but my heart still belonged to my ex-boyfriend. I loved him and wanted him home. But Mary was right, I got that job to start meeting people.

         Just in the middle of telling my oh so exciting story about how the pictures had been looked at to Mary; Jack, a DJ and bartender, came up and interrupted me. I was slightly pissed. I was in the middle of telling my cousin the biggest news of my life, and here was a guy who I hardly knew interrupting it all.

         Jack is tall, 6’4” and had short brown hair. His deep blue eyes were prominent even though he wore wire rimmed square glasses were scuffed and old looking. He was very thin, probably only about 150-175 pounds and lanky. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, it was his uniform for life. He had pale caramel skin dotted with thousands of freckles and moles and it suited him well. Not many girls considered him attractive, but I did.  I could see the bottom of a tattoo peaking out of the sleeve of his left arm, it was white and red but I had no idea what it was. I later learned that it was a tattoo of a half white, half red man, representing his half white half Native American heritage.
         
         He had walked up quickly and sat right next to me. He put his arms up on the bar at his elbows and was leaning forward looking at me right in the eye.

         "Hey, how are you?" he asked with a shy smile.
         
         "Well, I'm alright. I actually feel pretty good about something tonight and I had to come tell Mary the good news," I replied, while trying to break his gaze.
         
         "Well, how about I buy you a drink to celebrate your good news?"
         
         I agreed but didn't share my news with him. He didn't ask about it and  I could tell he was hitting on me. I was actually beginning to feel butterflies in my stomach, I wasn't dressed to be hit on for God's sake. I was wearing dirty, probably smelly jeans, an old flannel pajama top with a white wool sweater over it, almost no makeup and my pink winter UND hat that my chin length blond hair fell from in a sloppy way. There was no way I was looking good enough to be hit on! But none the less here he was, looking attracted to me and buying me a drink.

         I looked at Mary in a desperate way, trying to get her to get him away from me but she had a different plan in mind for me. I had told her a few days earlier that I thought Jack was cute. And he was; in this tall, lanky, dark, troubled way. I had told her in jest that I thought he would make a good one night stand. So instead of helping me get him away from me she had made the situation worse by mentioning in a causal sort of way, "Hey aren't Larry and Dave in back?"

         Larry and Dave were other co-workers, and she was trying to make it seem like Jack had to help me get to know the other members of the staff. What better way than drinking with them right now? That's what we did, that's how we made friends, we drank ourselves stupid together.

         "As a matter of fact they are! Nikki, why don't you come and say hi and have a drink with us. We're playing darts," Jack eagerly replied as he bounced to his feet carrying two beers, one was for me.

         I scowled at Mary as I was lead away by Jack to the back of the bar to hang out with the other employees. I was only going there for a moment, I was just going to tell her my good news. I was on my way to get toilet paper! I had to get toilet paper! But she just smiled in a smug way with her hands on her hips from behind the bar and watched him lead me away.

         Larry and Dave were busy playing darts and pool and they hardly acknowledged the fact that I had joined, which left Jack and I at the table alone and uncomfortable. At least, I was uncomfortable clutching my purse in my lap under the table. I was fidgeting, drinking my beer way too fast and chain smoking. I am terrible with small talk and I knew that is what this was going to be. Sitting at a table littered with empty glasses, cigarettes, and ashtrays is not the best place to try and win a girl’s heart; especially when she is secretly celebrating inside that her beloved is going to come back home, maybe.

         But I stuck around. If I was going to be making friends, I had to actually spend some time with them. The getting to know you phase of any relationship is the worst for me because I'm unsure as to what to say or do. I just want it to be over quickly and move directly into comfortable ease. Yet Jack and I had a common ground from which to start our conversation, music. He was the one who trained me in a few nights before and we both enjoyed talking about music, so that's where we started, discussing music.
         
         Jack is exactly the kind of guy that I had dated all throughout high school and had
sworn off forever. He is passionate about music, much more than anyone I have ever met, or will probably ever meet. Music is his life, his emotions, his everything. If you could give up food and live only on music, he would. He didn’t make music, but he knew everything about it and also worked as a DJ at the local rock station. Okay, so he was a music nerd, and that was very appealing to me... even though I had sworn off music nerds.

         
         
         The reason I had sworn off men into music is because the musicians always broke my heart in the end. Because really, the music ends up being more important than you. This was why I had been so wrapped up in my ex-boyfriend. He wasn’t that interested in music, he was more into sports so I was safe. He wouldn’t ignore me on the phone because he was playing his guitar at the same time. As long as I let him watch his sports, he was entirely focused on me. But there was this charisma about Jack when he spoke that drew me in like a powerful magnet. I loved to hear his smooth voice and the superficially profound things he had to say.
         
         Conversation turned from music to tattoos, to our families, and to our lives. Two beers turned into several, and before we knew it, it was bar close! We had been chatting for around three hours, never leaving that table and never looking away from each other. By this time we were both drunk, and feeling some kind of unsure and exciting passion between us, it was like an explosion. I had forgotten all about the ex-boyfriend and couldn't stop smiling. I didn't want to leave his side just because the bar was closing.

         So I suggested a party at my apartment. After-bar parties were a tradition with the El Roco employees and after just about every single shift, no matter what day of the week it was, we would gather at someone's place and play drinking games until the sun came up. I had been to a couple parties, but never had one at my house, so I invited everyone over to my place, the whole staff of around 10 people plus a few off duty friends. I was feeling powerful, popular, and sexy, and I was still wearing my nasty jeans, white wool sweater and hat. Amazing how alcohol can do that to you.

         The rest of the party is a blur. There was some tequila in the apartment and I suggested we break it open and start doing shots. I remember Jack telling me, “I warn you, I am not responsible for my actions after three shots of tequila!” with a wide smile and seductive eyes.

         Most of the party goers had left after an hour or two and there was just Jack, a couple co-workers, and me. We had gathered in the kitchen doing shot after shot.... salt, shot, lime, over and over again. We did WAY more than three shots! And I’m not sure how the topic came about, but suddenly we were talking about penises... and Jack whipped his out for a brief moment! Right there in the kitchen in front of everyone! I doubled over laughing and darted to the bathroom so I wouldn’t pee my pants.

         While I was in the bathroom I started looking around at all of the ex-boyfriend’s things. Drunk, I was taking it all in and not caring about him anymore. Powerful sadness was no longer there when I looked, and I was elated that I had met someone who could make me so happy in just one night. I decided right there and then that I was going to forget about the ex, and peruse Jack.

         It didn’t take much work. When I got out of the bathroom almost everyone had left. One person was laying on the couch sleeping and the light in my bedroom was on. I looked in to investigate and found Jack, sitting on the edge of my bed looking slightly nervous with his palms together clutched between his knees. I sat next to him and before I could say anything he looked at me deeply and said, “You kiss me now.”
         
         Then before I knew it I was locked in one of the most passionate kisses I had ever experienced. This kiss overwhelmed me with feelings of emotion, delight, and lust. We ended up having wildly crazy sex and fell into each others arms when it was all over. He was behind me with his right arm wrapped around me so perfect and holding my hand in front of me. It was then that I asked him, “You don’t by any chance play guitar do you?”

         “Um, yeah, a little. Why?”

         “Well, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t date another guitar player ever again, but you might be an exception to that rule.”

         I looked over my shoulder at him, he smiled, and laughed a little. He kissed me again, and we were off to dreamland together. Our first night. So perfect. So right. I never did get toilet paper that night, I got something better, a great boyfriend.