Page 2 of Verses Of Us

If Alfy could see her room, amid the many posters and clipped magazine photos that covered her walls, he would find an overwhelming majority devoted to Ciarán Jones. He would see the CDs piled on her dresser, both from Ciarán’s solo career and former life as a member of In Ovation. His latest album was in her boom box on constant repeat. Wedged in the mirror frame in her bedroom was her ticket stub from his last concert, and her t-shirt for theStanding Room Onlytour sat in her closet, hardly worn, but cherished.

No, Alfy didn’t see that. To him, she was just a name on a piece of paper, another teenager who had a crush on the blue-eyed Irish rockstar. All Alfy wanted was a boring answer to an even more mundane trivia question.

“April 18th, 1977,” she answered. “He was born in Dublin and his mother almost named him Ken.”

Beside her, Louise chuckled and shook her head.

“Wow, you reallyarehis biggest fan. You’re right, Alexis. Hang on and we’ll give you all the details.”

There was a click, then some music. She pulled the receiver away from her mouth, exhaling the long breath she’d been holding.

“What’s going on?” her mother asked.

“I’m on hold.”

Alfy returned, his voice now pleasant and less deep. He explained where and when she would meet Ciarán. The rules were simple: no cameras, no recording devices, no friends. It was to be her, and her only.With Ciarán.

The idea of being in a room alone with him made her swallow hard. Intent on getting all the details, she listened carefully, jotting every bit down on the notepad hanging on the wall next to the phone. After giving them her information, Alfy congratulated her once more and hung up.

Louise clutched her hands against her chest, her eyes so wide, her forehead disappeared behind her sharp, black bangs. “You’re going to meet Ciarán Jones!” she cheered, pulling her daughter into a big hug.

“I’m going to meet Ciarán Jones!” Alexis replied, too stunned to move. A quick laugh turned into a louder one, breaking her daze with tears that ran down her face.

When Louise stepped back, Alexis wrote the date, time and location of the meeting on the wall calendar, circling it with little hearts and exclamation marks. Then, she called her best friend Julie, preparing herself for the loud shriek she knew was waiting on the other end of the line.

THE MEET

Alexis

Sadly,theweekhadn’tflown by. As the brunch got closer, Alexis grew impatient and though excitement burned in her veins, she also became heavily worried.

After obsessing over what she’d wear, she ultimately settled on one outfit, but even after trying it on a million times, she didn’t love it. Under Julie’s advice, she chose something far less casual than her everyday clothes, and completely unlike her—tight boot cut jeans paired with an equally tight, V-neck burgundy top which drew the eye up to her black velvet choker. To appease her mother, and also her blaring insecurities, she slipped a reasonable cardigan on and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The deep brown hair inherited from her Japanese-Canadian mom, so dark it verged on black, hung in bone-straight curtains. The greenish-hazel eyes she got from her Czech father, stuck out, surrounded by thick lashes. Somewhat shorter than most girls her age, Alexis filled her physique with curvy hips and small, round breasts her mother insisted would fill out once she had children.

She couldn’t imagine that happening to her—the kids, not the breasts. She didn’t have younger siblings or cousins, and she’d never attempted babysitting like other kids her age. Children were in a very far off world of things that didn’t concern her right now. At eighteen, she couldn’t fathom it.

With a clear plastic case in hand, Julie came over ready to do some magic. Alexis wasn’t a fan of the thick sensation of makeup on her skin, but Julie had talked her into it.

She applied a light pink gloss to Alexis’ full lips and dusted a soft blush across her round, dimpled cheeks. After plucking her eyebrows into something neater, Julie brushed some mauve eyeshadow to her lids, which made her green irises pop and a thin coat of mascara framed her already long black lashes.

“Voila!” Julie stepped back, admiring her work. “I dare Ciarán not to fall in love with you.”

As with most celebrity crushes, Alexis was aware her fantasies were exactly that—fantasies. Impossible daydreams. She celebrated her birthday a few days ago, the day she graduated high school, and Ciarán was not only twenty-two, but an international rockstar. Even if her wildest dreams came true—which they wouldn’t—and he fell for her…

She laughed, shaking her head at the thought, and reminded herself of who she was. Clearly, Julie’s optimism had rubbed off on her. This was a one time thing, despite her best friend’s insistence that it could be more.

Still, it was Julie’s unwavering hope that convinced, or rather beat Alexis into submission, and resulted in her wearing a plunging neckline, and even shaving her legs and painting her short nails a deep red—Ciarán’s favourite colour.

Alexis stared at her reflection and touched her face, not recognizing the girl staring back. Even though she’d argued against the makeover, she couldn’t disagree with Julie; she’d never looked more stunning.

With her mother’s last seal of approval, Alexis hugged them goodbye, before heading out and into the chauffeured black car that pulled up outside her home.

In the back seat, she fisted her hands in her lap. Stuck in a dreamlike state, her body felt light, distant, and she became convinced she was experiencing an out-of-body experience. The suburbs flew by her window, and as they crossed the bridge into downtown Montreal, Alexis accepted this wasn’t a dream at all.

When they pulled up along the busy sidewalk outside the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, Alexis peeked out the window and saw the sign hanging on the restaurant’s door:Closed for a private event. Her heart somersaulted, then did a cannonball, plunging straight into her stomach.

The driver opened her door. Alexis stepped out on shaky legs. A woman in a bright red power suit, with matching lipstick that emphasized her large, crooked teeth, walked forward, extending her hand.

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