Not This Time

Nina: February 19, 1987

     This was the first time that I'd had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day in....well, forever, actually. I was really looking forward to not getting totally trashed like I usually did. The meal I'd ordered from room service had beat Jon here and was still sitting on the kitchenette counter, where the service attendant had left it. I'd planned to make Valentine's Day special this year, but I'd completely forgotten to account for tour, so there I was.
     We were in Pembroke Pines, Florida on the actual night. Jon had pulled up some lucky fan onstage and just about made out with her. It was the one time in my life that I'd ever been jealous of anyone kissing my boyfriend. But then again, could I really get jealous when I knew he'd end up with Dorothea?
     I closed my eyes and dropped my head in my hands. I'd made up my mind, hadn't I? I was gonna go my own way and force myself to forget about him, right? God, it was so much easier said than done. Every time he smiled at me, every time he told me he loved me, I was reminded of what I was leaving. I'd be gone in just a few months and it hurt so much to think about. I had to keep reminding myself that he was gonna be happy with Dorothea when I went, but that didn't make it any easier. I didn't want to go.
     This sucked. I was right back where I started, forced to decide between Jon's future or my own happiness. There was no question that his future was more important..that is, until Jon got a say. He insisted that he loved me more than anything and nothing could make him happier than me, but I wasn't so sure that could really be true. He didn't know what he had in store with Dorothea. Not like I did. The possibility that a future with me was happier than that one was pretty slim.
     Jon's knock at my door pulled me out of my thoughts. I pushed the worry away, excited that we were finally going to get to spend some more time by ourselves. It didn't happen often beyond my post-show visits to the band's dressing room, so when it did, it was always a treat. I leapt over to the door and opened it a crack, just to make sure it was Jon and not somebody I wasn't expecting.
     He raised an eyebrow at me but smiled a little. I opened the door further and smiled back. He was wearing one of his concert jackets over one of his favorite Southside Johnny tee shirts. It was the closest thing he had to dressing up on tour, but it was already better than what little I had to work with. I didn't have many shirts with me that weren't crew shirts for work. I'd just cut up one of the tour shirts I'd been given and redesigned it a little. It was much shorter now with a modified, off-the-shoulder neckline. I could tell that was the first thing Jon noticed as he waltzed into my hotel room.
     "You look great," he complimented as he shuffled around me, careful to keep his hands behind his back and out of my view. I smiled a little.
     "So do you," I replied with a casual gesture to his concert jacket. There was a small pause as we both appreciated each other. We both knew I was ignoring his obvious attempt to keep something hidden behind his back. He smiled a little and I raised an eyebrow expectantly.
     "Happy anniversary, baby," Jon said, holding out a red, long-stem rose like the one he'd gotten me last year. Just like last year, I leaned forward and sniffed the flower while he still held it. Jon chucked. So did I, reaching up to take the rose from him carefully. As I brought the rose back to my face, Jon revealed the box of chocolates he'd been holding behind his back. I peeked over the petals and then gaped at him mockingly.
     "Wow, what did I do to deserve a rose and chocolates?" I teased. With a smirk, I took the box of chocolates from him and stepped forward to give him a quick kiss. "Happy anniversary to you too, Rockstar."
     Jon offered me a little smile before looking around at my mini-suite. "This is a nice room, better than mine," he muttered, wandering away from me to glance through the balcony door. "Why is it so high up?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
     I shrugged. "I had to get it last minute and this was one of the only rooms they had available," I explained, "And everything else was even more expensive. I've already gone through a month's worth of P.D.s for this room as it is."
     "A month?" Jon gasped, turning around fully to face me, "Thirty P.D.s?"
     "Something like that," I confirmed with a shrug. He gaped more. "The per diem's only twenty five dollars, Rockstar," I told him, shaking my head at his blatant disbelief as I stepped over to the kitchenette counter where our meals were getting cold. He was being ridiculous. "The meals cost more than that," I finished, nodding to the plates beside me as I set the rose and candies on the counter.
     Jon trudged back across the room, shaking his head. "I'll pay you back," he said.
     "No, it's alright," I replied gently, trying to get him off the subject with a pretty, albeit small, smile. "We only get one first anniversary," I reminded him. His words. He smirked at his words and nodded a little, putting his hands on my shoulders and meeting my gaze confidently.
     "Nina," he sighed, "This is our anniversary. I'm not gonna let you get away with paying for all this when I've only gotten you a flower and some candy." He snickered a little, shaking his head as we went on, "That's not happening. I'll give you some money for the room."
     "I'm using the room for more than just tonight, Rockstar," I protested. I crossed my arms. Why did he have to be so sweet? He wasn't making decision to leave any easier by doing so. Still, he wouldn't let me turn him down.
     "I want to take care of it, babe," he insisted, "I've got the money."
     "Are you saying I don't?"
     Jon dropped his hands and took a step back from me and the defensive tone that had accidentally slipped. "With that big ole apartment you've got back in New York?" he scoffed incredulously, shaking his head at me. "You know you don't have it," he told me holding his hands out in front of him, "Don't get all defensive about it, I'm not trying to insult you!"
     I frowned at the food on the counter. He was right of course. I had that nice apartment all to myself back in New York, but, despite the deal I'd arranged with the old guy who used to live there, the rent for it still took a pretty nice chunk out of my paycheck. I glared at him for a half second, long enough for him to raise a knowing eyebrow at me, before letting out a defeated sigh.
     "Yeah, I know that. I'm sorry," I grumbled with a wry expression in his direction, "I just hate it when you're right."
     Jon snickered a little. "It's not you depending on me, Nina, don't look at it that way," he said.
     He knew exactly what it was that bothered me about him paying for things. He knew me better than I gave him credit for. He probably knew me better than I'd like to admit, but the truth is, I didn't want to admit that he knew anything; that would just make it even harder than it already was to leave.
     "The band has made it," Jon went on, unaware of what I was thinking about him, "I have more money than I know what to do with. Let me use it for you." That pulled me back to our conversation, and I frowned. He smirked, and added, "You know I'm going to either way."
     I rolled my eyes and smiled. There was no winning with him. "Alright," I retorted with another shrug, "Whatever. Meanwhile, our food is probably cold."
     Jon looked down at the food on the counter and then back up at me blankly. "What is that?" he asked, pointing to the small sandwiches on the plates. I could tell from his expression that he was trying so hard not to grin. He probably knew what I'd been going for, but we both knew it was a colossal failure.
     "I tried to get them to make pork roll sandwiches, because I know you like them, but.." I trailed off with a shrug, "This isn't New Jersey." Jon bit his lip and tried to stifle a laugh. I couldn't help but smile too as he finally gave up trying not to laugh and just let it out.
     He stared at the sad attempt of a pork roll and shook his head, still laughing. Finally he looked back at me with a grin. "That is so sweet of you, I just.." he chuckled, glancing back down at the sandwiches. I watched his forehead furrow in confusion as he lifted the top bun off of one of the sandwiches and started laughing again. "What is....?" he giggled childishly.
     "I think it's ham," I told him, "I mean, it's pork."
     "It's not the same," Jon argued, shaking his head at me as he dropped the bun back onto the ham and cheese sandwich.
     I watched him wipe his hand on the counter, still shaking his head and laughing. He said something about ordering pizza, but I was too caught up in that smile to care. My eyes followed him as he crossed the room to make the call, watched him sit down on the arm of the chair with the phone to his ear. He smiled across the room at me and it hurt.
     I didn't want to go. I was gonna miss every little thing about him. That smile. The way his hair fell in his eyes sometimes. The way he'd wrap his arms around me from behind and hug me like that. At least I'd still get his voice when I went, even if only through the artificiality of recordings. I wouldn't get to hear him say my name again. I wouldn't get to hear him say he loved me. And I'd never be able to say that to anyone else and mean it the way I meant it whenever I said it to him.
     Jon's hand grazed my arm. I hadn't even realized I'd looked away from him until my eyes focused on the sliding door to the balcony and the evening sky beyond. When I looked over at Jon, he looked a little concerned, but all I could do was offer a tight-lipped smile before brushing past him to go sit on the couch.
     "Are you alright?" Jon's voice asked from behind me. I looked up and over my shoulder at him as he stepped around the couch to sit next to me.
     "Yeah, fine," I fibbed, "Why wouldn't I be?"
     Jon leaned back and shrugged. "Well, other than that space expedition you just went on," he said sarcastically, trailing off. At first I thought that was all he was talking about, but then he shrugged again and looked over at me. "You get this look sometimes," he explained, "Like you're sad. And you've been kind of....distant for the last couple weeks. Is everything okay?"
     I didn't look at him as he said this. I was staring at the coffee table in front of us. He was so sweet. And I was leaving that? Did I really want to do that? Psht, of course I didn't. But I had to. There was no question. I didn't know why I kept doubting my original decision. I had get over him and grow up. That was all there was to it.
     "Hey," Jon prompted, tapping my arm again. When I looked over at him, he looked kinda worried. "C'mere," he muttered, holding his arm out, ready to wrap it around me when I leaned in.
     I smiled shyly and complied, leaning against him comfortably like I used to do back in Vancouver when we'd rent a movie. Just as I expected he would, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.
     It was almost March. I knew next month was going to fly by and that April would arrive in no time at all. It made my stomach hurt just thinking about it. I closed my eyes. Jon was still wondering what was wrong. He knew something was wrong. He could tell. I hated that he could tell. It just meant that he cared enough to notice. He stroked my hair patiently, but I could tell he wanted to know. I could feel his discomfort.
     "I don't want to.." I started before I thought about it. I caught myself before I said anything about leaving, but I'd already said too much. Jon had heard it.
     "Don't want to what?" he asked gently.
     I sat up, away from him and took a deep breath. "I have to grow up," I sighed intently. It was more a reminder to myself than an answer to his question. I had to grow up. I just did. I looked over at Jon and he had another incredulous grin on his face.
     "Hold up," he snickered. I blinked at him. I didn't understand what was so funny. But then again, he didn't know what I was giving up either. He shook his head. "You stop talking like that right now," he commanded playfully, "You're not growing up without me."
     I grinned a little. He was trying to cheer me up. I couldn't say no to that joking grin. He was just too adorable. He seemed pleased at the sight of my smile, which only made me want to smile more. I scoffed and raised an eyebrow instead.
     "So never, basically?" I joked right back.
     "Exactly," he confirmed, "If I don't grow up, you don't get to either. You and me are gonna grow up together." He reached over to pull me back into his arms, but I smacked his hand away and shifted around so that I could lay on my back with my head in his lap.
     "No, Rockstar," I said as I got comfortable. I smiled up at him as he played with my hair. "I think the phrase you're thinking of is 'grow old together'," I corrected.
     Jon made a face and shook his head, not looking at me but rather at something or nothing in particular across the room. "Nah," he countered, finally looking down at me with a grin, "I'm not gonna get old. Maybe older, but I'll never be old. I'm still gonna be sexy when I'm fifty."
     I burst out laughing. His grin grew, but he didn't say anything in response to my amusement as he twisted a strand of my hair around his index finger aimlessly. All I could do was laugh. He didn't know how right he was. Back in my time, he was already forty eight and he was still devastatingly handsome. I couldn't imagine that two years would change that fact very much, if at all.
     "Y'know I completely believe that," I agreed once I'd gotten my laughter under control.
     Jon just smiled. He seemed way more relaxed now that I was smiling again. "You know you're gonna be hot too," he assured me, "You and me. Together." I wrinkled my nose at him and he grinned again. "So stop talking about growing up now," he went on, shaking his head, "Cause if we ever do, it's not going to be for a long, long time."
     We sat there giggling about this and that and some other things for about another ten minutes until the pizza arrived. I could feel Jon staring at me the whole time I was at the door exchanging money for food, though I couldn't tell if he was really looking at me or the pizza boxes in my hand. When I closed the door and looked up, Jon was on his feet, still gazing at me intently.
     I smirked at the sight of him. He'd taken off his tour jacket and boots. That red Southside Johnny tee shirt was almost a little snug, but it worked on him. The blue jeans he was wearing were a pair he'd never wear onstage; they had hand-sewn patches on the inside where he'd torn the material over years of wear. I smiled a little at his socked feet before bringing my eyes back up to meet his.
     Jon grinned and, like a child, slid across the room in his socks. He stopped next to me, catching himself with a hand on my waist, and instantly pulled me into a kiss. Completely surprised, I brought the hand that wasn't holding the pizza boxes up to rest to the side of his face. After a moment, I pulled away and gave him a confused look.
     "Are you going to eat me or the pizza?" I joked.
     Jon smirked, still leaning close to me. "Can't I have both?" he whispered. He gave me another series of quick kisses, forcing me to lean away again if I wanted to answer him.
     "How about we start with the pizza?" I compromised. I couldn't stop the amused grin spreading across my face. Jon nodded without hesitation.
     "Okay," he agreed simply. He didn't even seem disappointed. I giggled at how easily that negotiation had gone over. Jon smiled at my reaction and took the bigger of the two pizza boxes from my hands as we both returned to the couch.
     He told me stories about his garage band days as we ate. They were nothing special, but any stories about him were fun to me. He told me about the time he got the shirt he was wearing, and the time he got arrested selling posters for ticket money. All I could do was listen; it was all I wanted to do. I wanted to sit and listen to him telling me stories, stories about anything at all, for the rest of my life.
     I looked over at him when he stopped talking. He smiled at me. "I love you," he whispered.
     I couldn't help myself, I leaned toward him and kissed him gently. He seemed just as surprised as I'd been when he'd kissed me by the door, but that didn't stop his arm from wrapping around my waist. He gave me a questioning expression when I pulled away from him.
     "I love you, too," I replied, brushing his hair out of his face so that I could meet his gaze, "And this is wonderful. I don't ever want to leave.."
     Jon shrugged a little. "Then don't. Stay with me."
     I smiled shyly, looking at the Southside Johnny logo on his shirt. "I'm not going anywhere," I lied, tracing the design. I knew full well that I'd be going back to my time when April rolled around. Nothing had changed. His happiness was still more important to me than mine was, no matter how nice it felt having his arms around me. I leaned my head against his shoulder so that I didn't have to look at him. Then I added quietly, "At least not consciously."
     He laughed. "Do I suspect Matt of kidnapping then," he chuckled, "if you ever disappear?"
     I looked up at him with a grin. "It would be him," I giggled, playing along. Matt was persistent, but he wasn't a criminal. I doubted he'd be so bold as to resort to kidnapping. I honestly didn't think Matt could bring himself to do that. He was too nice, too kind. As mean as he'd seemed back on Christmas, I couldn't picture him working up the courage to kidnap anyone, let alone me.
     "That's okay then," Jon assured me, "I'll just kick his ass. I'm not afraid of Matt."
     I leaned away from him and gave him an amused scoff. "Neither am I."
     "Then we've got nothing to worry about," he said with a grin. I nodded in agreement, still snickering at his villainization of Matt. Jon pecked my cheek before shifting to get up. His arm was still around my waist, forcing me to stand with him. "Let's dance," he suggested, "I want to dance with you."
     "I don't have any music."
     Jon shrugged. "So?" he said as he led me into a more open part of the room. His arm still around my waist, he turned to me and took my other hand. I brought my arm up and rested it on his shoulders, around his neck. I let him pull me close, and I leaned my head on his shoulder like I'd done last year.
     We swayed to utter silence for a moment. It felt so stupid. "This is weird," I commented quietly. Jon just shushed me. I frowned at him, but he offered a charming smirk in return. How could I not smile at that? For just a few seconds more, we swayed in the silence between us, and then Jon started singing softly.
     "I know it's late," he sang, "I know you're weary. I know your plans don't include me."
     "But they do.." I whispered teasingly. Jon grinned and chuckled a little, trying not to let my joke stop his singing. Why he'd chosen to sing the same song we'd danced to last year, I'd never know, but it didn't matter; it worked. The words, even a year later, still held a sort of relevance, though this year it was different.
     "Longing for shelter from all that we see," he sang very gently in my ear, just for me, just for us. "Why should we worry? No one will care girl. Look at the stars, so far away."
     He actually nudged me to look out the balcony doors as he sang that. I glanced out at the night sky, but then returned my gaze to him, admiring him as he admired the stars.
     I couldn't leave him. I loved him way too much. It would break his heart. It would break mine. He leaned his head against mine, still gazing out the sliding balcony doors. Thank God I didn't have to look at those beautiful blue eyes of his with all that conflict running through my mind. He was sure to see how troubled I was if I was forced to look him in the eye.
     "We've got tonight," he sang, still swaying us back and forth.
     It might break his heart, but Dorothea would be there for him. He'd be okay. He'll always love her.
     "Who needs tomorrow?"
     But I'll always love him.
     "We've got tonight, babe."
     I don't know what to do anymore.
     "Why don't you stay?"