The Other Side(92)

With that, I rise and take the stairs two at a time to Alice’s door. And when she opens it, I say, “Hi,” to get the formality out of the way.

Her smile grows impossibly wide. “Hi, Toby.”

“Are you busy? Can I steal you for a little while?” I ask.

“You can steal me for a long while.”

I don’t know how suggestive she intended that to sound, but it throws me for a second, and I temporarily forget about what I had in mind and can only think about kissing her instead. Before I stammer something that will only embarrass me, I reach for her hand.

“I’ll be back later, Taber! I’m going with Toby!” Alice yells over her shoulder.

Little does she know that Taber is standing in the same room with her and that he overheard our entire conversation. “Use protection!” he yells back, smirking. I guess he heard the suggestive tone too.

I know my face is red, an inferno has suddenly ignited behind my cheeks. It’s at odds with what’s going on inside my jeans.

Alice laughs at his teasing and it eases my anxiety.

I take her to my apartment.

And tell her what I painted on my bedroom wall.

“I am,” she whispers with a knowing smile. “You are so many things, Toby, an amalgamation that makes you, you. That’s why I love this so much. It’s owning it all, the triumphs and the struggles, the things you like and the things you want to change, because they all make you who you are. We’re all a work in progress—hell, no one knows that better than me. Every day is new. Every day delivers a new challenge. But saying, ‘Fuck it, I am,’ feels good. I’m going to steal this. I might have you paint it on my bedroom wall too. Even though I can’t see it, I’ll know it’s there.”

Pulling her to me, I kiss her forehead. “Or you could just sleep here,” I whisper.

When her chin tips up, her entire face is smiling. “I talk in my sleep,” she warns.

“You don’t scare me, Alice Eliot.”

A laugh escapes her. “Touché.”

And then I kiss her.

And she kisses me.

And it lasts for hours.

Until Teletunes comes on and we watch and listen and sing along. I describe the videos to Alice so she can get a visual, and she fills me in on random facts about the bands or songs when she knows something I don’t. She knows a lot that I don’t.

When the last song ends at ten thirty, I tell her she should go change into her pajamas and come back down to sleep.

She does.

It’s the first of many nights that I share my new bed with Alice, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and a nearly nightmare-free sleep.





Chapter Forty-Four





Present, August 1987

Toby



“Do they have coffee, Toby?” Alice whispers, trying to be considerate of others who might be in the waiting room with us.

“There’s no one else in the room, so you don’t have to whisper if you don’t want to,” I tell her.

She smiles wide, and it’s the self-assured smile that makes my crush on her swell, even though we’ve been dating and inseparable for months now. “Do they have coffee, Toby?” she repeats in a normal volume.

“They do. Do you want a cup?”

She was up late last night; she’s tired. Wonderland played an acoustic set at the Mercury Café. It was stripped down—just her, Taber, and his acoustic guitar—and it was my favorite performance yet. I haven’t missed a show since mid-June, and even though they’re great, they get better each time. Alice always tells me she won’t accept a future that’s nothing short of “fiercely passionate and wildly beautiful.” I knew she was determined, but being with her nonstop for months has shown me she’s pretty much Joan Jett-“Bad Reputation”-badass level determined about everything in life. Including me. It’s humbling, inspiring, and, well…hot.

“Or in an IV, if it’s available, that would be great.” She laughs through a yawn, her hand covering her mouth.

I stand and walk toward the table in the corner where the coffeemaker sits. “Looks like you’re going to have to settle on a Styrofoam cup. Unless you want to come over here and lie on the table and I’ll just pour it directly into your mouth.”

It looks like she’s contemplating my idea. “That’s tempting, don’t tease me. And this skirt is probably too short to climb up on a table and still keep it halfway ladylike. A cup will do.”

I pour two cups and tear open two packets of sugar and stir them into Alice’s coffee, smiling the whole time because I can’t believe she’s mine.

She thanks me when I hand it to her and immediately takes a sip, humming in appreciation.

“Toby?” A voice calls from the opposite side of the room and my heart rate increases twofold.

Alice stands before I do and holds out her free hand.

I take it and when I do, she squeezes tightly to reassure me that I’m not alone.

When we’re close enough to the balding man that an introduction is possible without raising my voice, I say, “Hi, Dr. Goldin. This is my girlfriend, Alice Eliot.”

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he says, “It’s nice to meet you, Alice,” and his lips rise in the friendly smile that I’m beginning to think is a permanent fixture on his face.