All The Young Punks Pt. 19

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This is the second flashback chapter from PUNKS (Ch. 6 - Surprise Package) heavily rewritten to remove the graphic sex. I replaced some of those words with new dialogue and an additional scene.

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---- AUGUST 1979 ----

Joe and Simon sat on the stoop of the Jones Street apartment building watching a U-Haul rental truck double park directly in front of them. Tina pulled up behind the truck in her blue 1972 Chevy Nova. When Joe and Simon approached the back of the vehicle, the middle-aged driver glared at them suspiciously. Tina made introductions.

"Dad, these are my friends, Joe and Simon. You won't have to break your back this year."

John Costello shook hands and offered a single, "Nice to meet you." He opened the back of the rental. As the younger men grabbed items from the box turck and made their way upstairs, they could feel the eyes of a father measuring them. They didn't talk much.

Joe sang while walking up the stoop, "We're movin' on up, to the east side, to that great big apartment in the sky."

Mr. C furrowed his brow at his daughter as he walked in behind Joe.

Three flights of stairs above, the band's possessions were concealed behind the locked door of Lana's freshly painted bedroom. Tina had asked that they keep the fact the band was staying there from her dad. She directed traffic, telling the men where she wanted her things placed.

"These two boxes are heavy," Joe said. "What's in here?"

Tina looked at the label on the box. "Pictures."

Simon placed two boxes down. "These are heavy." He looked at the label. "Framed photos."

The younger men cracked jokes as they moved up and down three flights of stairs. John Costello overheard their banter but did not engage them.

"This must be how a pack mule feels," Joe quipped while standing behind the truck.

Simon handed him another box. "Be careful, this one is heavy, It must be her hundred pairs of shoes."

"It's probably more pictures. I think T's opening an art gallery," Joe said. "And I've never seen so many fucking clothes... and I have three sisters."

Mr. C. heard Joe's comment. "This is only half. My house is her other closet." He looked at Joe. "Where are you from? Your accent isn't New York." Tina arrived just as Dad asked the question. Mr C glanced at Simon. "I know where you're from."

Joe glanced at T and then her dad. "I live in Providence."

"Rhode Island," he said. "That sounds right. Good Italian food."

Joe looked at T, smiled, and nodded. "Told ya." He turned to Dad. "I've been telling her that my town has the best Italian in New England."

"It's true," Dad said, "The old joke is; Where's the best Italian food in Boston? Drive an hour south to Providence."

Joe nodded. "I literally said that to her last week." He looked at T. "Ya see?"

"What are you doing in the city?"

Tina's eyes widened. She hadn't prepared Joe for a paternal interrogation.

"I'm visiting this bloke," he gestured with his thumb at Simon.

"And you?" he asked Simon.

"I graduated from NYU and decided to remain in the States," said Simon. "I live nearby."

He looked back at Joe, "And what do you do?"

"I'm studying astrophysics at MIT."

John Costello looked Joe up and down. "No, you're not."

Joe laughed hard. "No. I'm a musician." He smiled. "Good catch."

Tina's dad laughed, which eased the tension. Thankfully, he didn't play twenty questions on the first date like his daughter. After several trips, including a sofa, easy chair, queen-size mattress and box spring, a bedroom dresser, and chest of drawers.

On his final trip Joe looked at Simon, gesturing to the item he was carrying. "An air conditioner. Sweet."

Mr. C. couldn't hang around to help unpack. Once everything was in the apartment or stacked outside her door, he was ready to roll.

"So, I guess you're all set, baby. I have to get that van out of double parking. If you need anything, give us a call."

Tina gave her dad a hug: "Thanks Daddy, I will."

He eyeballed the punks as he was leaving, not sure what to make of the dudes in his daughter's apartment. "Thanks for the help guys." Simon and Joe nodded in reply. As Dad moved into the hallway, where boxes sat, Joe said, "Thanks, Daddy."

Mr. C turned and looked at Joe. Tina punched his arm very hard for a girl. Dad shook his head and walked out. The tension in the air lifted the moment Mr. C left the building.

"Quick thinking," T said as she closed the door behind him. "Thanks for not choking under pressure." Her hands went to her hips. "But then you had to be the clown at the end."

Simon liked her scolding tone on Joe and piled on. "He just couldn't play it straight," he said. " It's not what he does. Bloody astrophysics? MIT? What the fuck was that?"

"Yeah," Tina said, hands still on hips. "What the fuck was that?"

"I wanted to see how much bullshit I could slip past your old man." He smirked. "For future reference. Do you know what he was thinking the whole time he was here?" Joe paused, T and Si waited.... "Which one of these shitheads is banging my daughter?"

Tina didn't like his joke as much as Simon. She punched him again. "So far," she replied, glaring at Joe. "Neither of you."

Simon declined an invitation to stay for dinner knowing this was a special night. He whispered to Joe as he left. "You have fun shagging that bird. She's the bee's knees."

Joe furrowed his brow. "Is that a good thing?"

Tina and Joe unpacked. The first thing he did was set up her stereo and put on his new Stiff Little Fingers record. Joe had bought more than a dozen records since he arrived but hadn't played a single one. After that he set up her window AC unit for a blast of cold air.

He unloaded boxes of framed photos, mostly black and white. They were candid images of New Yorkers: an old couple on a park bench, children in a playground, families and young couples, people of all ages. There was also architecture, building facades, the Manhattan skyline, and tight shots of exterior architectural features: gargoyles, angels, and geometric designs. Joe took a moment to absorb each shot.

Tina observed him looking at her work as she unpacked a box of shoes. "So, what do you think?"

"These are yours? You took all these pictures?"

"Yes, I told you, the city and the people are my subjects."

"I really like this one of the elderly couple by the bridge. Her eyes are haunting. It's like she's looking right through me. The way he's admiring her, you can feel the love of a lifetime. She's like, what - maybe seventy-five? I can see she was a beautiful young woman because she's still elegant."

Tina smiled. "Those are good observations. You saw all that in ten seconds?"

"It's a great photo, very moving. I'm impressed."

"Thank you." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "That's nice of you to say."

"I'm so relieved you're not a shitty artist," Joe smirked. "I was genuinely worried about that."

"Jerk." Tina pushed him away and went back to her unpacking.

The final chore of a busy afternoon was putting sheets, blankets, and too many pillows on her big fluffy bed. After sleeping fully clothed for six weeks, Joe was looking forward to messing up those sheets - or at least hoping to.

"So," Tina said, "what's for dinner tonight?"

"Ricotta meatballs and spaghetti with a Caprese salad. I bought wine and breadsticks too."

"That sounds good." She smirked. "Unless you're a shitty cook. I'm genuinely worried about that."

While she did the finishing touches in her room, Joe got started on homemade meatballs. He heard the shower turn on while making a big mess of her kitchen. When she finished showering, Tina joined him with wet hair, barefoot, in a tee shirt and cotton pajama bottoms.

Joe pointed a wooden spoon at her. "Hey, where did you get that shirt?"

She blushed. "I stole it, took it home, and washed it."

"So that is my shirt?"

"Yeah. So what? How many times have I watched girls ripping shirts off your back on stage? I wanted one for myself."

"You must earn that by winning a dance contest. Green Eggs and Ham is a hard shirt to come by."

"I like Dr. Seuss, so I took it." She changed the subject.

"So, what's going on in your notebooks?"

Joe looked over. "You didn't read my Mead did you?"

Tina exhaled. "No, but I flipped it open to a page and saw a map you drew, and then a sketch. It felt like I was violating your privacy, so I closed it."

"And that was the right thing to do." He went back to his cooking.

"You're always writing in there, and then you read your own writing. What's up with that?"

"That's probably songwriting. I'm reading my lyrics with the music in my head."

"So you write songs in there?"

"Of course. And I keep a journal. I do a lot of drawing, like that map. My notebooks are my way of getting the tangled thoughts I have out of my head. I make sense of them on paper."

Tina scrunched her nose. "Okay." and changed the subject again. "What's the deal with ricotta meatballs?"

"I already told you. The cheese makes them light and fluffy. These are half pork, and half beef, with finely chopped onion, peppers, and mushrooms, sauteed. My balls have the texture of a cake."

With the meatballs in the oven, Joe started on the salad. She watched him slice tomatoes and handmade mozzarella from a nearby deli. He added fresh basil and red onion and put the plate in the fridge.

Joe pulled his balls out of her oven and showed her how big they were. "Look how meaty they are. I hate small meatballs. The sauce is on low. Can you stir it? I'm taking a quick shower while the water comes to a boil. I'll cook the pasta when I get back."

"I can handle it." Tina kissed his cheek.

"Let me do it," Joe said sternly. "I'm cooking."

"I'm Italian, ya know. I can cook pasta."

"I'm not letting the first dinner I cook for you be ruined by overcooked pasta."

"I'm offended."

"Tough."

When Joe returned, she had already cooked the pasta and was dumping it into a colander to drain.

"What are you doing? I hope you didn't overcook that."

"I told you I can cook pasta. I did it al dente."

Joe wasn't convinced, but what could he do? "Okay. Thank you. I'll open the wine."

Tina and Joe sat for the first home-cooked meal he had since leaving Rhode Island several weeks ago. He ate well in New York, but dining out and eating on the run had gotten old. It was nice to cook and relax at home.

A few bites in, Tina stopped eating and looked at Joe. "I get it. These are tender and fluffy. My dad needs to add ricotta. His meatballs are dense. The salad is nice too. I'm impressed, Joe."

"Thanks. I'll cook other dishes for you. I'm not a one-trick pony. I have other talents."

"I bet you do." She smiled.

"And you can boil water. I'm impressed."

While cleaning the kitchen after the meal, Joe pulled her close and kissed her. "Miss Costello, I hope this is the first of a million meals I prepare for you."

"I'll sign up for that." She kissed him back. "You helped me move in and you cooked. I think you deserve some extra special attention."

"Let's see if you can earn that shirt, T."

She smiled. "I also have other talents."

"Tell me more."

---- WORTH THE WAIT ----

Tina slipped away while Joe finished the dishes. He later found her with a silky robe over his Dr. Suess T-shirt, sitting on the edge of her fluffy bed. She grabbed Joe by his sweatpants and pulled him close. T looked up. "I've been going a little crazy these last two weeks. It's been hard sleeping with you and not doing anything."

"You're telling me?" Joe said. "I'm losing my mind."

"I wanted to wait," she said, "but I didn't want to wait."

"I'm glad we ditched the murder mattress. Your bed looks nice and warm."

"It is," she smiled. "I'm glad you ditched your band, cuz I'm not waiting anymore."

This is where I deleted 1465 words to keep my story in the non-erotic genre. These are the moments I question my decision to slash previously written scenes to keep the chapters clean. Is this what I want to write?

There's a simple workaround for this one chapter. If you're interested, PUNKS Ch. 6 is the erotic version. It's not great, but it's Joe and Tina's first time. They learn a lot about each other. Sex becomes a transcendent connection for them.

After sequestering themselves for 1465 words of fun over many hours, Joe lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Daylight peeked through the window shade turning shadows into color. Purple and pink. They were no doubt Tina's favorites. Everything in her room was purple or pink, or purple and pink, with white and gray accents on her many soft items. Everything was soft and warm, especially her.

Joe smiled, 'This is her purple and pink love dungeon,' he thought as she stirred beside him. He was pretty sure he passed the biggest test of a new relationship. Everything fit very nicely.

"Hey baby," she said, rubbing her eyes. "How long have you been awake?" Then reached down to meet Mr. Morningwood.

"Maybe a half hour," he said. "But he was awake before me.".

She kissed him. "We can't let this go to waste.'

After another sweaty session of riding Joe hard, her purple hair swaying in his face. Tina squeaked and squealed as waves surged through her body. She fell into a steamy embrace on top of him. T was surely a squeaker. Even when moaning her voice was sweet. After a minute, she popped up.

"I'm hungry. Let's get dressed and go out." She rolled off him and slapped his tummy. "Let's go. After breakfast, I'm taking you to do one of my favorite things."

"What's that?"

"Park-hopping. What parks have you been to?"

"Washington Square is right here, so I've been there a lot. Christopher. And parts of Central Park. You took me to Bryant with Johnny."

"Okay, there are many you haven't been to."

"Do you want to shower?" Joe asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nope. I need a clean-up in Aisle T," she smiled, "but I like the scent of sex on us right now. I'm gonna wear it all day."

After breakfast, she checked three parks off Joe's list as well as a chunk of Central Park he had not seen, they had a sidewalk slice for lunch and went back to 3C to fuck again... and then finally took a shower together.

When Nate and Sal returned, Joe was standing in the kitchen in his boxer briefs. The guys looked at him. He glanced at them. Not a word was spoken. He walked back to Tina's bedroom with two drinks. With his bandmates milling about the apartment, Tina and Joe remained in her room, quietly fooling around all Sunday evening. They emerged only to use the bathroom, get a drink, or make quick snacks.

Half-dressed in the kitchen, they giggled. Sal and Nate stared at them with full knowledge of what was happening behind closed doors. Joe had only one thing to say to Sal. "She's definitely not prissy."

---- WHAT THE FUCK? ----

Monday morning, they sat at the kitchen table reading the New York Times, spreading butter in the nooks and crannies of Thomas' English Muffins, and drinking coffee. Joe spoke quietly.

"I peeked in. Nate and Sal are snoring, Johnny's not in."

"Do you think he's downstairs?"

"I'm guessing he is, but I don't know for sure." He exhaled. "We have three shows before we drive back home. I have to keep him busy on those days, then we need to get him back to Providence."

"You keep saying that, but then you don't leave."

"You keep making me offers I can't refuse."

"So it's my fault?"

"I'm not pointing fingers. I can leave at any time. It's not like you tied me up."

"Not yet," Tina smiled while drinking coffee. "I'm gonna hate it when you leave. It's really gonna suck."

"I know." Joe leaned closer. "I feel shitty about staying longer. I'm happy to be with you, but the right thing to do would have been to get him home. I think about that a lot."

Joe and Tina had barely spoken to Sal or Nate during their fuck-fest. When the guys emerged from the bedroom on Monday, they each took a turn in the bathroom.

"What happened Saturday night?" asked Sal."I thought you were coming to Tommy's"

"We decided to stay in." Joe made wide eyes, assuming Sal would understand why.

"Jada was upset you weren't there."

Joe made wider eyes hoping Sal would shut his stupid mouth.

Tina looked up from the newspaper. "Who's Jada?

"She's the lead singer of The Studs," Nate answered. "Our bands are friendly."

Thanks to Nate, Joe didn't have to rely on clueless Sal thinking on his feet.

"You told her we'd be going home," Sal said, "so she was surprised to see us."

Joe glared at Sal, thinking, 'What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?'

"We told her about Tina inviting us to stay longer," Nate added. "You missed a great show, but I'm guessing you had fun here." He winked at them.

Nate pushed Sal towards the door, "We're going out for food." Joe appreciated that Nate was trying to prevent Sal from doing more damage with his mouth. Tina looked at Joe over the newspaper. Six seconds after the door closed behind them, she set the paper down.

"Why would this Jada chick be upset you weren't at the bar? Are you and her an item?"

Joe looked at her without a word, chewing a buttery muffin. 'Oh fuck, here we go. Thanks Sal.'

Tina stared back, waiting for an answer. Joe went with honesty because Dr. Nichols said it's always the best path.

"We were," Joe said. "when I first arrived. I haven't seen her in weeks, since before I met you."

"But she expected you to be there Saturday night?"

"No, because I told her we'd be going home." He took a sip of coffee and remained calm. "I guess when she saw Sal and Nate she was surprised and asked for me."

"Sal said she was upset."

"I had planned on going to Tommy's with you, remember, because I'm with you. We decided to stay in... because that's what I wanted." He sipped coffee again. "Jada and I had a fling, but I'm with you. This is where I want to be."

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend in New York. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she's not my girlfriend. We fooled around, that's it."

She scrunched her nose. "I guess we should get this out of the way. Did you sleep with any other girls in town?"

Joe was in conflict avoidance mode, a trick he learned in therapy. If you see conflict coming, breathe normally, keep your tone calm, and don't respond harshly to anything they might say. Dr. Nichols told him, 'You can only control half of the argument. Keep the temperature cool.' He was acting carefree eating Thomas' and drinking coffee.

"Nope, just her... and you," Joe smirked.

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me."

"Because it doesn't concern you, and it wasn't a big deal. It's irrelevant."

Tina stared at him. Joe wiped the butter off his fingers and set his napkin down. He was the picture of cool and spoke with that tone.

"Listen to me, T. You have a past, with boyfriends who have nothing to do with me. You lived your whole life right up to the day we met. I have my own history with girls. My past is the path I traveled to reach you. This is what I want. You and me."

Tina picked up the newspaper. Her eyes were on his. "Okay. I'm sorry," she said softly and went back to her New York Times. A crisis was averted. Joe watched her as she flipped pages, sensing these weren't her final words on Jada Jones.

"What nights do you have shows?" she asked.

"Tomorrow in Brooklyn, Thursday at The Belmont, and Friday night at Tommy's"

"And you leave Sunday?"

"Yes, Uncle Babe made it clear, he needs to fix that fire escape and clean that room before Lana gets here, got it?"

Tina smirked. "I'll help you babysit Johnny, but it's gonna cost ya, got it?"

"What's your fee?"

"After the show Friday night, I get you to myself, no pie safari with the punks. You're mine alone until you leave."