Free Arizona Skies: The Muse by S. Cruz Page B

she saw me performing. I was afraid she was going to freak out and run without giving me a chance. I wanted a chance to show her I’m not a lying asshole; I had my reasons. It was obvious that sheliked me, and I sure as hell liked her. I desperately wanted to come clean, let her experience this side of me. Besides, what better way to sing a love song than while looking at a beautiful woman?
    It was getting loud in the room, and my nerves were getting the best of me. John came over to talk to me as I paced back and forth tapping my fingers on my guitar. I didn’t realize my nervousness was that obvious?
    “Jess, you OK, man?” he asked, slapping my shoulder.
    “Yeah, man, I just hope I haven’t made a big mistake,” I said, pacing.
    “Give her some credit; It’s obvious she likes you and I know how you feel about her. She’s going to be fine; if not, she’s not the one for you,” John said.
    “I just hope you’re right,” I said, furiously tapping on my guitar. I set my guitar down and grabbed the microphone.
    “Besides, it does my heart good to see you nervous for a change,” he chuckled.
    “Very fucking funny! I don’t want to screw this up; she’s important to me,” I said, lashing out at him.
    “I get it, Jess; I do. Just be yourself and pour on the charisma,” he said with a wink as he went to sit behind his drums.
    The stage lights came on, and the clapping started as the announcer took the stage. It was show time. I quickly turned my back to the audience as the curtain went up to say a little prayer. Usually I start the band off, but my hands were shaking, I’d be lucky if I could hang onto the microphone without dropping it. I looked up to John for help, He understood and hit his drumsticks together to signal the start of the first song and nodded at me. I took a deep breath and turned around to walk to the front of the stage with my microphone locked in my sweaty hands.
    I was too afraid to look at her as I started singing, keeping time to the beat with my leg. I started to walk back and forth across the stage; that always helped keep my mind off the crowd.
    Finally I found the courage to glance her way. She was sitting there with her hand over her mouth; eyes wide open, watching me with a stunned look on her face.
Oh shit, I’ve blown it!
    “What the fuck do I do?” I said under my breath as the song ended. I looked back up, and she was still there; she hadn’t left yet. “Whew.”
    I calmed down somewhat and concentrated on the words of the next song. The audience was up on their feet, clapping and moving their bodies as I sang the Journey song. The acoustics in the room were very good, not a lot of echoing, and I felt myself starting to relax as I concentrated on the song.
    I hadn’t gotten nervous on stage since my high-school talent show. Performing came naturally to me. I never forgot a word or missed a beat.
    I turned away from her and started walking back across the stage. I glanced back at Scott, who was doing his usual jumping around as he played the guitar and sang backup. His voice was higher pitched than mine, and our voices blended together perfectly. He was a very talented musician and winked at me as I sang.
    We’d been good friends since grade school. He and his mother were responsible for getting me to start singing. He taught me how to play the guitar in fifth grade, and one day while we were messing around at his house, I started singing this song. His mother was upstairs cleaning and heard me. When I finished, she was standing in his bedroom doorway clapping her hands.
    “Jesse, you have a lovely voice,” she said, smiling at me. I was young and was embarrassed. She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Would you like me to help you train your voice? You’ve got this natural, raspy tone that sounds incredible.”
    “Would you? I’d like that,” I said, soaking up every ounce of attention she was showering on me. I loved to hang at his house;