Crazy For You. A. C. Meyer

arrives and I wake up feeling happy in a way I haven’t been in a long time. There’s a mix of excitement for the epic show and the feeling of a real good night sleep, in spite of missing the naughty boy from the house next door.

      I sit on the bed, stretch my body, and hear the message tone on my mobile.

       Daniel : Good morning, Ju. Did things go well last night at AD?

      Oh, damn it! And now? I’ll have to act silly so that he doesn’t suspect anything.

      I: Hi, Danny. All good and you? The venue was pretty full. When are you coming back? Kiss

      Daniel: Saturday. Kiss

      Men are so thrifty with words... Phew! Fortunately! I got away with this one!

      Just in tandem another message comes through. Oh, God!

      George: Little girl, I’ll be there in 15 to take you shopping. Be ready. You’re not allowed to wear leggings. XXXX (Kisses) from your personal stylist, best friend and producer.

      All men are thrifty with words, not George. I stand up and run to the bathroom as I type the answer.

      I: Okay. Can I put on the yoga pants? ;D

       George: Nooooooooooooooooooo :@ :@

      I: What are those :@?

       George: My angry face for your lack of style, sweetheart. MOVE OOOON!

      I laugh and get in the shower fast, because I know he's probably knocking on the door in a little while.

      ***

      "At last you dropped those hideous clothes you used to wear, huh?”

       George speaks, glancing at me from head to toe with contempt.

      He's absolutely right, but I can't help but pick on him.

      "Friend, but it's so comfortable...”

      George seems to shoot me with his eyes.

      "If you went through one of those transformation programs, like a Fashion Squad, you'd be humiliated on national television in all those horrible clothes.

      "Julie, how do you want to make out with Hot Alan dressed like that?” Jo asks me, very serious.

      I let go of a laugh in the middle of the mall.

      "Does he go by a new nickname now? Who says I want to make out with Alan?”

      "Little girl, if you don't go for him, I'll slap your face! He's going mad, freaking crazy to play guitar on your seductive body.”

      George moves his hands, as if describing a body in the form of a musical instrument. I roll my eyes.

      "For God's sake, George! You sometimes vent out such goofy stuff! He doesn't want to touch anything. That was just a stage scene!”

      George's mouth opens like I told him there's no Santa Claus.

      "What?! You really think that was a stage scene? My dear, I know the look of a male very well when he’s getting ready to take his prey. Hot Alan wants you bad and you should want him too, because he's soooo hot!”

      "But, George...”

      "If you come up with the story that you love Danny Boy, I won't listen anymore.

       Little girl, you know that I love you. I really wish, from the bottom of my heart, that you would come right with that idiot.” He turns to Jo with an expression of sorrow and squeezes her hand lightly. "No offense, dear.” Jo nods, as if she agreed that her brother is really an idiot. Geoge turns to me and proceeds with his enthusiastic speech. "He's hot, I’ll give you that. But, as an idiot, he scores top marks on a scale of one to five. You've been in love with him for yeaaarss and he doesn't give a damn about you. He can't even see how much you've grown. You need to get someone. Hit the road before you get old, crazy and surrounded by cats!”

      "Not full of cats, full of books," I answer, sulking.

      "Girlfriend, George is right. You deserve to find someone to love you. I really wanted it to be my brother, but after all this time...”

      I hear the words of my two best friends and my eyes fill up with tears.

       I know they're right. I just think it's so unfair. My life was anything but easy... As much as the Stewarts may have given me all the love in the world, losing both parents at the same time is a pain that will never heal in my heart. Though I never complained, moaned or played a victim. I accepted my fate and tried to do everything I could to be happy. The only thing I wanted was the opportunity to show Danny how much I love him.

      I keep thinking about last night. I fulfilled my dream of singing. I felt great on stage. I felt alive. Beautiful. Wanted. I remember the rules I set for myself. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and make a decision.

      "George? Jo?”

      "Yes, little girl.”

      "Let's go shopping. It’s time I become a new woman. If, with my new look, I can't get Danny to wake up, at least I’ll get a boyfriend. I don't want to become a crazy old woman, alone and full of cats.”

      “Now you’re talking!” George claps while he speaks. "Are you going to play with Alan's guitar?”

      Jo and I burst into laughter. George knows how to cheer us up.

      ***

      The day goes by and George takes us to several different stores. I can't take it anymore. We've bought shorts, blouses and dresses —lots of dresses. He decided that my show look will consist exclusively of items that leave my legs out. Now I have an astonishing amount of ballad dresses, glittering skirts and low-cut blouses. They match shoes so high that if I lose balance and fall, I run the risk of breaking my neck.

      "Come on, pussycats. Let's go into this one”, he says, pulling me toward a store. I look up and get stunned to see the sign of a famous lingerie store.

      "Friend, what are we going to buy here?”

      "Definitely not bread! You need a lingerie that will pick you up.”

      Jo looks scared. She's been acting weird. She’s always distracted, and spends all the time exchanging text I just don't know who with.

      “Guys, I'm going to pop in quickly to the leather bag store on the second floor. I need to buy a new briefcase.”

      "Go, my darling. Anything, just call.”

      "But, George...” I am interrupted by the saleswoman who comes close and offers help.

      Obviously, George takes over and parts the sexiest pieces from the store. I frown on every item he picks up. I'm not used to so much lace.

      An attendant serves us candy and prosecco. We make our toast, and I take my mind off and eat while George seems to be on a war mission.

      Forty minutes and a few glasses later, I'm pushed into a fitting room with a pile of panties, bras, corsets and other pieces I don't even know what they're for.

      I start trying them out, and the prosecco gets to me, leading me to do a parade in the fitting room. George goes on indicating to the saleswoman the pieces he approves so she can separate them. If we were at Victoria's Secret, I'd say I felt like an Angel so much that I shook my butt back and forth.

      While I take a look at a corset, George mutters something to the saleswoman, who returns a few minutes later with a pile of sweaters and babydolls.

      “I don’t need pajamas, George!”

      “Of