An unwanted interruption

The knock at the door had interrupted our moment. Time obviously had no respect for what I was trying to accomplish here. “Who the hell could that be?” Lisa asked as she rose from my lap, straightened out her dress, and went to the door. She appeared to be as frustrated at the intrusion as I was.

She opened the door to reveal Rachel Thomas, the girl from my history class who had asked Ariana Grande about her “Just A Little Bit of Your Heart” song, standing on the other side. “Yes?” Lisa asked, “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Rachel started, “but Officer Jenkins told me James was here and I have to speak with him.”

“Well, we are kinda busy right now,” Lisa responded.

“But it’s really important,” Rachel implored, adjusting her glasses nervously. Her hair bobbed in a ponytail as she glanced around Lisa, eyes landing on me.

Lisa glanced back at me, her brow furrowed in question. Was it just my imagination, or was there a hint of jealously there? She turned back to Rachel: “Seriously? At this hour? Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No, it can’t,” replied Rachel, urgently pushing her way past Lisa and entering the room. “Hey!”, sounded Lisa, “What the fuck? You can’t just barge in here.”

Rachel, however, seemed impervious to Lisa’s protest and walked straight towards me. Behind her glasses, her eyes were aflame with determination. “It’s about the song,” she said breathlessly as she drew closer.

“A song?” groaned Lisa, rubbing her temples in evident frustration. “What song?”

“Professor Grande’s song, ‘Just A Little Bit of Your Heart’,” Rachel replied never taking her eyes off me, “I need to know who the other woman in the song is.”

“Give me a break, we are seriously not doing this right now,” Lisa grumbled with anger, her blue eyes looking toward me for support. It was obvious she wanted to continue our evening and this interruption over something so trivial was not appreciated.

Rachel had covered the distance between us, standing just mere inches from where I was still sitting. “Please, James,” she said, her voice holding a soft tremor. “This means everything to me. I need to ace this assignment, and if I can figure out who the other woman in your life was, I just know that would secure me my ‘A’.”

“Okay,” Lisa interjected sharply, arms across her chest. “Enough of this melodrama about a stupid song.” She shot Rachel a cold glance before turning back to me. “James, get rid of her or I’ll call security. This is ridiculous.”

I looked between the two women, feeling torn. Rachel's plea was clearly genuine and I couldn’t help but empathize with her need for answers. On the other hand, Lisa's annoyance was also justified, her evening disrupted for what hardly seemed an emergency. Regardless of the dilemma, the truth is that I couldn’t answer Rachel’s question even if I had wanted to. I had no clue who the “other woman” in Ariana’s song was. I had no memory of any of the events that occurred prior to my warping the pop star into existence as our history Professor.

I also felt a bit bad since whatever was compelling Rachel to barge into Lisa’s room at this hour was all my fault. Although I still hadn’t even heard the song in question, I knew damn well that prior to my messing with reality, it hadn’t had anything to do with me … none of Ariana’s songs had. Yet I had willed myself to be the inspiration for most of her songs, and now that was the case. Poor Rachel’s **** need to learn the secrets behind their meaning was therefore completely my fault, an unintentional consequence of my selfish and reckless behavior. I needed to remember that real people were being impacted by my changes, even if they were completely unaware of them. For now however, I had to get rid of Rachel. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with this tonight.

"Rachel," I began, my voice steady despite the awkward tension. "This isn't the time to discuss this." For a moment, her eyes flashed with disappointment before she steeled herself and nodded stiffly.

"Fine," she capitulated curtly, straightening her glasses and turning to leave. But just as she reached the door, she paused and looked back at me, a spark of defiance in her determined gaze. "But this isn't over, James. I won't stop until I've found my answer."

With that parting shot, Rachel left as abruptly as she had arrived, leaving behind an air of unease that lingered uncomfortably in her wake.

Lisa let out an exasperated sigh, pushing the door closed and locking it. “What the hell was that all about?” She asked turning back to me.

“I don’t really know,” I lied, not being able to tell Lisa the truth. Then I realized Lisa was as much part of this new reality as anyone else, so I might as well play along. “Today in class Professor Grande gave a lecture about how I had been the inspiration of many of her songs. She gave us an assignment to pick one of the songs and write an essay about it. I guess Rachel picked ‘Just a Little Bit of Your Heart’. I don’t really know that song, or her, but I know she has a reputation for being relentless. So I guess figuring out the meaning behind it is her new crusade.”

“Hmmm,” Lisa sounded, putting her finger to her lips in a quizzical manner, “Well, everyone knows you inspired most of Professor Grande’s songs and that she has the hots for you. That isn’t exactly a secret.”

“Right, not a secret at all,” I replied with a shrug, somewhat ****. I couldn’t help but flinch at her words. While it was true everyone - including Lisa - took for granted that I was the muse behind Ariana’s songs, it was a reality that I had woven myself.

“But I’m not familiar with that particular song, and after that display I’m curious. Let’s wiki it.” she continued as she walked over to her desk where her laptop was placed.

This wasn’t exactly the direction I had expected the evening to go. I wanted Lisa back in my lap to finish what Rachel had interrupted, but I guess the mood had been lost. I stood up from my chair and followed her to the desk.

Standing behind her, I watched as Lisa tapped away at her laptop, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders and catching in the soft glow of the room. A quiet hush settled over us as she dug deeper into the meaning of the song.

"'Just a Little Bit of Your Heart'... Oh, here it is," she murmured after a few moments. She squinted at the screen, reading something aloud. "'The song is Ariana Grande's cry for a man that she loves, who's in love with someone else. It's a tale of being the other woman, loving him still nevertheless, and just wanting a taste of that love.' Wow...that’s pretty deep."

I swallowed hard as Lisa's eyes widened in surprise. "It sounds... heartbreaking really," she said quietly.

I nodded silently at her words; they were sombering and uncomfortably similar to my own reality. I felt the weight of my own unrequited love for Lisa press heavy against my chest.

"But this song isn’t about you," she suddenly asserted, turning to look at me with unconcealed skepticism. "according to this, it wasn’t even written by Professor Grande. It’s by Harry Styles and some other guy. Besides, you’re not in love with anyone, are you?"

I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as I considered my answer. But before I could respond, time again rudely interrupted, not by someone knocking at the door but rather by the sound of Lisa’s phone ringing.

“One sec,” she said as she looked at the cell. “It’s Mark,” there was excitement in her voice as she pressed ‘accept’ and then greeted the caller: “Hey babe, what’s up?”