PTXperience(s)

Warm Foothills

The first few times Avi had his hair styled on the 2016 tour were awkward. Not because the new hairdresser was awkward—Nadine was friendly and professional and always managed to make the time he spent in her chair light and companionable—but because he always felt awkward around her. She was a blond, attractive, single woman, who was—it was no secret—the fantasy girl of just about every heterosexual man on the crew, and having her hands in his hair—scooping it carefully around his ears, brushing it free of tangles, pulling it into a bun—always made him uncomfortably aware of the fact that he also was a single heterosexual man. It didn't help that she had a perpetually mischievous smile, extremely distracting dimples, a bright, direct, engaging way about her...

...and, inevitably, a pair of very beautiful hands: deft, smooth and long-fingered with rounded nails that always trailed across his scalp while she was working in a way that made him want to shiver. He wondered if she ever noticed the goosebumps on his skin or the way his eyelids fluttered as she styled his hair. Part of him occasionally hoped she did.

While part of him was acutely mortified by the feelings she stirred in him.

He'd made a vow once not to get into a relationship before there was time to devote to a relationship; he'd also vowed never to date a fan or a crew member. His plan from the beginning had been to wait until the band was a little more solidly rooted in mainstream music before returning home to look for a girl who was pretty and sweet (and possibly Jewish, though that wasn't a requirement) and smart and musical and interested in family and the outdoors and dogs and having kids...

It bothered him how easy it was to forget the plan with Nadine's hands in his hair.

Nadine was not musically inclined—she had confessed as much to him the first time they'd spoken. Also she was more of a city girl than the outdoorsy type, was unequivocally a cat person, and due to a tragic accident in childhood was never going to be able to bear children. But she was sweet and pretty and funny and she made his stomach flip-flop whenever he sat in her chair, something that hadn't happened since Sara Bareilles.

He wanted to ask her out. He thought about it now and again, especially when his bandmates were all out with their significant others and he was left alone with his laptop and hours of Netflix. But dating for him was a precurser to marriage, not a pastime, and truthfully he didn't know if he would ever marry Nadine. There were too many differences, too many possible problems, too many unknowns...

The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to get to know her better. Was that enough of a reason to take a chance?

Kevin seemed to think so.

He and Alyssa had just spent the evening together and she'd dropped him off with a kiss at the door before heading back to her own apartment. Avi guessed he must've been watching them a little too closely when Kevin turned around with a glare that made him turn his attention back to his laptop.

"What was that about?" the beatboxer asked.

"What was what about? I'm just watching a show."

"You definitely were. And I'm not talking about the newest episode of Game of Thrones. Every time I'm with Alyssa you make a face like I'm eating a salad. Just because I like my veggies doesn't mean you gotta get all judgmental."

"I'm not being judgmental," Avi was quick to assure him. "I'm glad you and Alyssa are together. I'm just starting to wonder if maybe I should, I don't know, try going on dates, too. Not seriously—not to get married or anything, though I wouldn't say no if the right girl came along—but just for fun, for conversation, for something to do..."

"Wait, hold up." Kevin held up a hand briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You look like Avi and you sound like Avi, but I'm pretty sure you just told me you wanted to start dating. Like, casually. Like, without wedding bells playing in the background." He walked over and put a hand to his friend's forehead. "You feeling okay?"

Avi chuckled and waved his friend away before closing his laptop and putting it beside him. "I'm fine. I'm just...lonely, I guess. I see the rest of you guys going out, and I'm kind of stuck at home most of the time..."

"You do realize that's partly because you have ridiculously high standards, right?"

"What? No I don't!"

"Um, you definitely do. It's not bad to hold out for the right girl but she's not going to fall in your lap. You have to do more than flirt with strangers. You have to commit a little, be willing to make mistakes, to get your heart broken..."

"Says the guy who's practically engaged."

"What can I say? I was lucky. Maybe you will be, too."

"But what if the girls I like aren't what I'm looking for? I mean, what if I'm pretty sure it won't work because we're too different? I'm not interested in getting my heart broken if I can see it coming a mile away."

"What, because they don't like dogs? Avi, be realistic. You're never going to find someone who's exactly one hundred percent what you're looking for. She's going to have flaws; she'll be human, just like you. But sometimes those flaws are exactly what you need. I mean Alyssa's a total neat-freak, which I thought was going to drive me insane, but you know what? Thanks to her I don't lose things as often anymore. She's exactly what I needed."

Avi lowered his chin and clasped his hands in his lap. "What if the girl I like can't have kids," he mumbled toward the floor.

He heard Kevin's intake of breath and raised his head.

"Nadine," the beatboxer murmured.

Avi nodded.

Kevin shrugged. "She's nice; she's pretty. Plus I think she likes you, too."

"We're really different, though."

"Maybe it would be good for you."

"I might not marry her. Ever."

"Life is unpredictable. Maybe I won't end up marrying Alyssa. None of us knows what the future has in store. That shouldn't stop us from living our lives, right?"

Avi nodded. And then he smiled. "Thanks, Kev. You always seem to know what I need to hear."

"No prob, bro. You see, I'm not just a phenomenal beatboxing cello artist who speaks Chinese and was a pre-Med at Yale. I'm smart, too."

"Right. Find your keys yet?"

"Shut up, bassman."

* * *

Nadine chatted as she worked, smiling and laughing and meeting his eyes in the mirror once in awhile. He loved the way she flirted; she never made him feel dorky or self-conscious. She styled his hair and complimented him and took her time until everything looked perfect, a gesture he always appreciated. And then when she was done she billowed the black apron from his lap and invited him to stand.

"Well, Mr. Kaplan, I must say you look very handsome. Compliments to your hairdresser. I guess we'll see you later."

It was now or never. He took a breath. "Nadine, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Avi. What is it?"

"Would you...? I mean, if you're free, would you like to, you know, maybe go out sometime? I completely understand if you're busy or whatever, but...I just thought I'd ask..."

She folded the apron over one wrist and, smiling, put a hand on his arm to halt his faltering flow of words. "I'd love to, Avi." Her smile turned faintly shy a moment later as she peered at him through her eyelashes. "You know, I was just about to give up on you. You almost had me convinced I wasn't your type."

He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I'm actually not one hundred percent sure what my type is. All I know is that I like you—and I want to get to know you better."

Her smile widened. "What a coincidence. That's exactly how I feel."

They set a date to go for coffee the next afternoon. As he left the room Avi didn't hear the peal of wedding bells sounding in his head; what he heard was Nadine's off-key humming as she tidied up the studio behind him. The sound made him smile.

It was exactly what he'd needed.