TITLE: Nice Girls Don't Date Rock Stars
GENRE: 20-something women's fiction
The aisle between Matt and I is narrow but clear, with the moment I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid only a few palpitations away. I had faith it would happen, and this delicious anxiety was worth the wait. Val's hand squeezes mine and I know anyone looking at me will surely see a woman shining like the sun.
It’s warm for February in San Jose. The nightclub’s smoky air is sweaty and thick with lingering notes from the previous song. My brain’s telling me it also reeks of beer cans stewing in recycle bins behind the bar, but my heart is savoring every aspect of the evening.
I always believed hearing my hero perform a song he’d written just for me would be momentous. Right on par with a wedding proposal or my unborn child’s first kick. Alright, maybe that’s a bit of a stretch, but since sharing my childhood attic bedroom with my older sister Karine, nearly every other dream paled in comparison. Look at Karine’s side of the wood-panelled room and you’d have seen Buffalo Bills and Yankees posters, clippings of Clinton’s presidential campaign, and softball awards. Look at my side and you’d have seen no panelling at all thanks to Matt Hartley’s face and interviews covering every square inch. “You and your artsy-fartsy stuff,” Karine would say each time I tacked up a new page. Her jaunty dismissiveness fell on me with all the power of spring raindrops on a steel roof.