Lola
New Year's Eve. Jack liked the holiday because some clubs gave out free booze to toast at midnight, and free booze was always a plus. And he'd been down since Sarah left him, which mad the possibility of getting drunk on someone else's dollar even better. He wanted to relax, and let go, and spend the night pleasantly tipsy.
It wasn't even just Sarah's leaving that had him so down. Things had changed so much in the six months since the strike. David was back in school and didn't have time for him anymore. Blink had left to work in a factory, and Mush had struck out on his own shortly after. Race startled everyone by deciding to move to Brooklyn, only to split for Chicago two months later, when Spot disappeared. And no one had heard from Spot in three months, even though he always swore he'd never leave Brooklyn. Jack had assumed that, at least, would never change. But he was wrong.
He sighed; all this reflecting was just depressing.
He going to think about trying to pick up a girl, he'd decided. He needed a break from girls. He swirled his champagne (free champagne, and he got what he paid for — the thing tasted like freaking Coca Cola, which he doubted it was supposed to) around in its glass and glanced around the club.
And that was when he saw her.
Jack gaped for a second, thinking that he recognized her from somewhere, but couldn't quite place it. She had a slender frame, not too obviously curvy but certainly pleasant on the eye, with sharp cheekbones and gorgeous eyes. Her hair was short, for a woman's; not quite down to her shoulders, and it looked a bit tousled and certainly not like any other girl's hair he'd ever seen. But so familiar… Jack wondered if maybe she'd performed at Medda's before, because she certainly looked striking enough.
He started to turn away, not to tempt himself, but she caught his eye, and smirked and walked over. Close up, he knew he must never have seen her before; he'd have remembered. Even if she did look familiar.
"Hey," she drawled, her voice surprisingly deep.
"Hey." He finished the rest of his cola-flavored champagne.
"Buy a girl a drink?"
He hesitated; he wanted to spend as little money as possible, but on the other hand it wasn't every day he had a chance to buy a girl like that a drink. So he nodded and motioned to the bar tender; she ordered a G&T and Jack winced from the price, but paid it.
"What's your name?" he asked, as she took a swallow, then made a slight face. She looked at him in a way that made his spine tingle, then nodded, like she'd reached a decision.
"My name's Lola."
"Jack," he answered.
"Charmed." She smiled. "Wanna dance?"
And without waiting for an answer, she took his hand, abandoned her drink, and lead him away from the bar. And he let her, because this Lola didn't seem like a normal girl, she seemed more like a force of nature.
I met her in a club down in old Soho
Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like Coca Cola
C-O-L-A, cola
She walked up to me and she asked me to dance
I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said "Lola"
L-O-L-A, Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
The band was playing an old Irish ballad, but from the way Lola was dancing it could have been a burlesque house's favorite number. She didn't just move her hips, she seemed to be grinding them against an invisible force in a way which didn't just imply but practically screamed sex. Jack certainly couldn't think of anything else.
She was enticing and entrancing and amazing, and suddenly instead of dancing next to him, mostly with him, she grabbed him and pulled him close and continued to dance like sex personified. He inhaled sharply and flushed slightly, and wondered how such a slender woman could have such a strong grip. But he didn't complain as she shoved her hips into his.
They danced until the band had to take a break.
"You're amazing," Jack mumbled, as Lola lead him back to the bar. She was, too, and she sat on one of the bar stools. He started to claim the one next to her, but she grabbed his arm, pulled her down on top of him.
"You're not bad yourself, Jack." She licked her lips and Jack had trouble thinking of anything but how much he wanted to taste those lips himself. She smiled at him, and in her surprisingly deep voice commented, "Come home with me tonight."
It took Jack a minute to realize what he was feeling: not just lust, but passion. He'd always appreciated the female form, and he'd loved Sarah of course, but this was different. This wasn't love at first sight, but it was definitely more than just plain hormones. It was a burning desire.
Well I'm not the world's most physical guy
But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine
Oh my Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Well I'm not dumb but I can't understand
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man
Oh my Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Well we drank champagne and danced all night
Under electric candlelight
She picked me up and sat me on her knee
And said dear boy won't you come home with me
Well I'm not the world's most passionate guy
But when I looked in her eyes well I almost fell for my Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola, lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola, lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Jack stared back at her, his eyes wide, and suddenly he figured out why Lola seemed so familiar. He knew why he recognized her figure and now he wondered how he could possibly not have recognized her face. His face. Her face. He couldn't tell.
She didn't look like Spot Conlon; she sure as hell didn't act like him.
"Jack?" the male voice with the female body asked.
He shook his head and shoved her away from him, stood up and walked briskly to the club door. Some things he just couldn't think about, and how badly he wanted Spot–Lola–whoever–was one of them. What the fuck was Spot Conlon doing dressing like a woman and dancing with men on New Year's Eve? Why would he–she–whatever–want him? Had Spot always wanted him, even before Spot became… Lola… Or before whatever it was had happened. And Jack was sure that something had to have happened, because Spot was the leader of goddamn Brooklyn and would never have…
Never…
But Jack wanted him/her/whatever so badly that it hurt. He groaned and stepped out of the bar, and the cold air hit him like a slap in the face. He hesitated, and slowly sank down the building wall until he was kneeling on the cold pavement. He didn't know what to do; he didn't know what to think.
He saw the legs–how the hell could a man have such nice legs?–stop in front of him and looked up. Lola, Spot, whoever the hell it was, looked down at him, lips pursed in concern. "Jacky boy?"
Well, that was it for that question; that voice, saying that nickname… It was Spot.
Jack wanted to say something, but his brain had totally shut down and any words he attempted got caught in his throat. So he just stared.
He looked up at Spot.
Spot looked down at him.
And finally, Spot reached down, offered him a hand, and Jack took it. At least now he knew why Lola was stronger than a girl should have been.
"Jack…" Spot mumbled.
"Don't talk."
So Spot didn't, and Jack didn't, and Spot led him by the hand to the tenement apartment he now called him.
"So you wanna know what I…?" Spot asked, shutting and locking the door behind them.
"No."
Spot hesitated. "You wanna…" He nodded towards the bed.
Jack looked at the bed, then looked at Spot. Spot looked better in a dress than he ever had in suspenders. No wonder her hair had seemed so odd; it was Spot's hair, grown out for a few months. But the features he'd found so striking, those were all Spot as he always had been.
Jack wondered how he'd never noticed it before.
He wondered why he noticed now.
He decided he didn't care, and finally nodded a little bit. Spot leaned in and kissed him, and even though it was clearly meant to be a short kiss, it didn't end up that way, and Spot all but shoved him over to and then down on the bed.
Jack kind of wondered what had happened. But he was rapidly becoming too distracted to ask, and decided that so long as he was here, doing what he was clearly about to do, it didn't matter how it had gotten to be that way.
I pushed her away
I walked to the door
I fell to the floor
I got down on my knees
Then I looked at her and she at me
Well that's the way that I want it to stay
And I always want it to be that way for my Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Girls will be boys and boys will be girls
It's a mixed up muddled up shook up world except for Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
It was a week later, and Jack looked over at Lola as she lay in bed. He smiled; every time he and Lola kissed, it was like he'd never even kissed a woman before. It was hard to remember, until they were naked together, that Lola wasn't a woman.
She had been Spot Conlon, once upon a time. But no one would confuse the two of them anymore.
Jack never asked how Spot had come to this; after the first night, Spot didn't volunteer the information. But Jack could kind of understand anyway, because for a week he'd barely been back to the lodging house; he sold papers during the day, but at night he came to this tiny apartment and Lola inside it.
Jack wondered if Spot had always wanted him that much, but it didn't matter. The only hint he got was that as they fell asleep the first night, Spot had mumbled something about, "Finally making you my man."
Jack glanced around and caught his own reflection in the mirror. It was odd, his hair was almost the same length as Lola's, but for all he wasn't the most masculine guy in the city, he didn't look like a woman. Lola did. But then as soon as they were in bed together… Jack still wasn't a woman.
But neither was Lola.
But when Lola stirred in bed, sat up and reached for him, Jack didn't care. He'd been with women; they were nothing exciting. Lola was exciting. So as she reached for Jack's arm, he tumbled back down into the sheets.
He'd never been happier in his life.
Well I left home just a week before
And I'd never ever kissed a woman before
But Lola smiled and took me by the hand
And said dear boy I'm gonna make you a man
Well I'm not the world's most masculine man
But I know what I am and I'm glad I'm a man
And so is Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lola lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo Lola
[song & lyrics by the Kinks]