Freeway and the Vin Numbers Read online

CHAPTER 8: HEADING TO THE EAST SIDE

  Vincent

  I waited two days to call Saturn and she didn’t seem too pleased.

  “Hey Saturn, it’s me Vin,” I said, trying my best not to sound nervous. Rocker or not, I hadn’t had a ton of luck with women before this promising encounter.

  “Who?” she tested me.

  “Vin, from the band,” I said.

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “I vaguely remember giving you my number.”

  “I would’ve called sooner, but you know,” I said, hesitating, worried that the wrong choice of words could blow it with this chick before it even started.

  “Know what?” she said, clearly enjoying her edge in age, experience and feminine wiles right off the bat.

  “I didn’t want to seem too anxious,” I said honestly.

  “Are you anxious?” she continued, like a pestering prosecutor.

  “Uh … yeah, in case you can’t tell,” I said.

  She laughed, finally setting me at ease.

  “I’m glad you called,” she said. “Did you write a song for me yet?”

  “How did you guess,” I said.

  “Sing a little bit of it to me over the phone,” she said with a delightful, playful tone. “This is your audition to woo me. No pressure or anything.”

  For some reason, I had a feeling she knew I had written a song about her and I was prepared.

  “I’m in orbit around your beauty,” I sang into the phone. “Round and round I spin, lookin’ for a way in. Are you picking up my radio waves, bouncing from Earth to Mars to Jupiter? Come in Saturn, do you read me? Come in Saturn, do you hear me? Come in Saturn, do you feel me? Come in Saturn, do you love me?”

  The five longest seconds of silence followed.

  “Um … that was pretty fucking good, Vin,” Saturn finally said. “You might have a shot with me yet.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “It’s called ‘Saturn.’ The band doesn’t know about that tune yet.”

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s keep it that way for a while. When you do love me, you can play it for the whole world. What are you doing right now?”

  “Talking to you,” I said.

  “Funny,” she said. “Any plans for the evening?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Come over to my place,” she said, five words I’ll never forget.

  “You tell me where and when, and I’ll be there,” I said.

  Her apartment. East side of Providence. 7 o’clock.

  It was a date.