Page 5 of The Librarian and the Rock Star

“Sorry, I haven’t been online much lately.”

I could almost hear her rolling her eyes at me. “Greenlight Vodka is running a series of secret smaller concerts. A big stadium band plays a show in a tiny club. It is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Interesting.”

“They had Polka Vittles scheduled, but the singer got the flu, so now it’s Vegas Mud Disco!” she shrieked. “They’re playing the arena tomorrow night, so they must have come in from Vancouver a day early.”

“Cool,” I said, with no idea who this band is. I wracked my brain but couldn’t remember ever hearing of them before. “Hope you have a great time.”

“You’re coming with me tonight. It’s at The Junk Club. I’ll pick you up around seven-thirty.”

Sherrie usually took her bitchy friend Alanna to concerts, since they have the same taste in music, and Alanna was a total party girl. So she must have been busy and Sherrie must be desperate if she was calling me. I went out to perhaps two or three shows per year. “No way, I’m parking it at home for a long weekend.”

“The hell you are. Throw on jeans, a black T-shirt, and eyeliner. You’re going to love them, I promise.”

Sherrie knows that I’m a planner. I rarely, if ever, do things at the last minute. But her excitement was apparent, and I couldn’t let her down. Over the years she has talked me into good things, out of bad things, and was endlessly patient with my uptight nature.

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

“You’re the best! Bye.”

I sighed, putting down the phone. Perhaps if my friend was bullying me into going out and having fun, it’s something I need. I don’t believe in signs, but I listen to them if they are logical and positive. I sent the message out to the universe that I wanted change, and challenge, but I didn’t think it would kick in so quickly.

My natural instinct was to dart to my laptop and research the band and the venue. I research everything ahead of time, it’s what I do. But tonight I was sick of my life and wanted to shake myself out of my rut. I chugged a coffee instead, then spent the rest of the workday editing and posting grungy photos, grinning at the feedback from anonymous strangers who didn’t know my real name.

6. Going to a Secret Show

As soon as I got home at six-thirty, I began digging out my few bits of pure black clothing. Trying on my skinny jeans, I was shocked that they fit comfortably. I have been so busy that I haven’t been eating well, and apparently I’ve dropped about five pounds – which was a lot on my petite frame.

I threw on some smudged black eyeliner and tousled my long auburn hair. I even took the time to slap on some black nail polish, then plunged my fingertips in a bowl of ice water so they’d dry faster, taking care not to soak the little bandage on my scraped palm.

With a push-up bra making the most of my breasts, and black lace sleeveless tee, I couldn’t believe what I saw in the mirror. I looked like a twenty-one year old rocker vixen instead of a twenty-seven year old librarian. I actually looked, dare I even think it, sexy.

It had been a very long time since I’d had any sexy thoughts. And even longer since I’ve actually had sex. Good grief, it’s been over a year now. My over processing brain hasn’t hit that fabulous off switch in ages – it’s no wonder I’m desperate for a life change.

My mind instantly tried to wander to my ex-boyfriend Collin, but I made myself stop it. Those were the old days when I allowed myself to be pushed around, used, then ignored. Although we had only dated for six months, I really only saw him once a week.

He spent all of his time playing video games and watching sports with his friends, carving out three or four hours per week for a quick date and sex with me. I’m embarrassed that it took so long to kick him out of my life, but there were a few moments here and there where he made me feel special.

I filled Lizzie’s water bowl, thanking my lucky stars once again that I found a pet who is quiet and still, like I am most of the time. The moment I saw her mottled auburn face as she puttered around her cage, I knew that I had to have her.

“But that gecko only has three legs,” the clerk had exclaimed. “Nobody wants a defective pet.”

I had glared at her while handing over my cash and helping to pack my new friend into a little box with holes to take her home. She isn’t defective, she’s adorable.

Dropping a few extra food pellets into her cage, I swear she smiled at me. Her tail flipped twice, gently smacking into her plants. “Good girl,” I said.

I dug out my comfortable chunky heeled black leather boots and decided not to bother with a jacket. Glancing in the mirror as I grabbed my purse, I grinned to myself. I certainly looked special tonight, and if I was about to have a girls night out, what the hell. I deserved it.

I know, I’m supposed to be able to make myself feel special, and not need a man. But the heart wants what the heart wants.

When I jumped into Sherrie’s car, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Holy shit Keira – you look like one of those rock video hotties!”

“Thanks,” I blushed. She was in full rocker mode, and I could barely see her eyes through the blue black shadows and shaggy dark hair.

Soon we were at the club, and in line with a bunch of similarly rocked out looking people. Some looked glam, like they had just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Many looked scruffy, as if ripped and shredded clothing was all they had left in this world.

Sherrie whispered in my ear, “Nobody else knows who the band is yet. I bet they are going to freak out!”

---