I Knew You Were Trouble: A Jessie Jefferson Novel

by Paige Toon

  Jack reaches for his guitar, slipping the strap over his head. ‘Any requests?’ he asks.

  I cast my eyes over his bandmates, looking at me expectantly.

  ‘ ‘Hit Me With It’, ’ I reply. It’s the name of my favourite All Hype song.

  Jack looks impressed. ‘One of ours,’ he says, glancing at Brandon and Miles. Miles grins and twirls his drumstick around in his right hand and then immediately starts to bash on his kit.

  I jolt. This is all happening very quickly.

  Brandon brings in the bass, then Jack starts to pound on his guitar strings and I realise with horror that the lyrics have completely flown from my mind.

  Oh, God, oh, God… Focus, Jessie!

  I feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights as I look at Agnes, and then the first line comes to me like a bolt of lightning and I don’t have time to think any more, only sing.

  I step up to the mic and let rip.

  ‘Jeez!’ Brandon is the first to speak afterwards.

  ‘Told you so,’ Jack says flippantly as I try – unsuccessfully – to look cool, calm and collected.

  ‘I messed up on a couple of lines,’ I apologise.

  ‘No, man, that was good,’ Miles says, impressed. ‘Shall we go again?’

  ‘OK.’ I nod. ‘What next?’

  ‘What else do you know?’ Brandon asks.

  ‘How about ‘Disco Creep’?’

  He nods and grins – it’s another one of theirs. I glance at Agnes and she gives me the thumbs up. I bite my lip. I feel like I’m buzzing.

  Two songs later we take a break. Agnes gets me a can of lemonade from the fridge.

  ‘Done deal,’ she says with a significant look, glancing at the boys. They’re deep in discussion. I see Jack nod and then Brandon comes over.

  ‘We usually have basic band practice on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, but we’ll have to ramp up rehearsals in the lead-up to San Fran.’

  ‘Maybe we should still cancel,’ Jack chips in.

  ‘Not yet,’ Brandon states firmly.

  I’m staring at them, flummoxed. ‘What, that’s it? I’m in the band?’

  I glance at Jack to see him dig his hand into his pocket. He stares back at me, his eyebrow slightly raised.

  ‘If you wanna be,’ Brandon says.

  ‘Um, yeah. I mean, yes. Definitely.’ I thought I’d have to jump through a few more hoops.

  Agnes whoops melodramatically, prompting laughs from Brandon and Miles.

  Er, shouldn’t I tell them I’m going back to England at some point? I push the thought aside, just wanting to enjoy the moment. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. One question is plaguing me, though.

  ‘What about Susan?’ I glance at Jack.

  ‘Who?’ Brandon asks cheekily.

  ‘I’ll let her know,’ Jack replies, flashing a dirty look at his friend as he pops a cigarette between his lips and heads out of the games room.

  ‘Don’t console her too much!’ Brandon calls after him. ‘So, Jessie…’ He turns back to me once Jack has gone, but I can’t concentrate because my head is too full of the thought of Jack ‘consoling’ Susan.

  I’d really better call Tom tonight.

  Chapter 27

  ‘Finally!’ Tom exclaims down the line. ‘Where have you been?’

  It’s Thursday morning in LA and we’ve been missing each other’s calls all week.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy,’ I tell him.

  ‘So I’ve seen from the pictures,’ he replies.

  ‘Oh, God, really?’ I squirm. ‘Which ones?’

  ‘Well, first there were the ones of you going out for dinner with your dad on the back of his motorbike. You looked hot in your leather jacket, by the way.’

  I smirk.

  ‘And then you went to a club that same night?’ This time there’s a bit of an edge to his voice.

  ‘Yeah, my friend’s older brother was DJ’ing.’

  ‘Which friend?’ he asks.

  ‘Agnes.’ I shift on my bum.

  ‘Aah. Was it Jack?’

  ‘Hey? No!’ I completely forgot I told him Jack was Agnes’s older brother. ‘No, it was Drew. He’s older again,’ I quickly explain, wondering why I sound so guilty. ‘But Jack was there, too.’ I try to sound nonchalant. ‘It’s cool, we’re friends now.’

  ‘Are you?’ It doesn’t sound like a question.

  ‘Actually, I’ve got something to tell you,’ I quickly continue. ‘Jack’s band, All Hype, have lost their lead singer.’ I pause. ‘And, well, they asked me to audition.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ he says, not sounding at all excited by the prospect. ‘Are you going to?’

  ‘I already have. I’ve got the gig.’

  The sudden silence on the other end of the line is deafening.

  When he finally speaks, he sounds flat. ‘I thought you didn’t like singing in public.’

  ‘Johnny has been working on me,’ I explain.

  ‘What’s the name of the band again?’ he asks.

  ‘All Hype,’ I reply, feeling on edge at the thought of him looking up Jack on the internet. Tom seeing pictures of my hot, indie-rock bandmate is not going to ingratiate me much. ‘They’re really good. I can’t quite believe it, actually. But they like my voice, so—’

  ‘I bet they do,’ he interjects.

  ‘What are you saying it like that for?’

  ‘It’s not going to hurt that your dad’s famous, is it?’ he says sulkily.

  ‘Tom!’ I exclaim. ‘I thought you’d be proud of me! I can’t believe you think that’s why they want me.’

  He exhales heavily. ‘I am proud of you.’ This time he sounds sorry. ‘I don’t know, I just really miss you.’

  ‘I miss you, too.’

  ‘I still remember hearing you kick arse on SingStar that time at Natalie’s,’ he says dully.

  I smile. ‘I remember that, too. I never thought I’d be able to get up in front of an audience without being drunk, but Johnny took me into the studio on Saturday and had me singing backing vocals. He might get me to sing on his album!’ I relay with increasing excitement.

  ‘You sound like you’re having a really good time over there.’

  He doesn’t sound at all happy for me. In fact, he sounds jealous and insecure, and I can’t help feeling a little pissed off about it. Surely he should be supporting me after everything that’s happened?

  ‘I haven’t been having a good time at all,’ I tell him crossly. ‘In fact, I’ve been bloody miserable, thinking about you lot all carrying on as normal while I’m stuck in Limboland, but I’m feeling a bit better now, thank you for asking.’

  I didn’t mean to come off so sarcastic, but I can’t take it back.

  ‘I didn’t mean…’ He sounds frustrated. ‘Oh, look, just forget it,’ he continues. ‘Sorry. I’m tired and you feel really far away.’

  I instantly soften towards him. ‘It’s OK. You feel far away, too.’ He is far away.

  ‘Do you know when you’re coming back?’ he asks. ‘You are still coming back, right?’

  ‘Of course,’ I reply, even though the thought of it doesn’t fill me with the happiness it perhaps should. ‘I’m not sure when, though. When things settle down, I suppose.’

  And who knows how long that will be?

  My singing teacher starts the next day, half an hour after my dull-as-dishwater lessons with Jan finish. When the doorbell goes, I answer it to find a cute, blond, twenty-something guy with twinkling blue eyes standing on the doorstep.

  ‘You’re not here to do the pool, are you?’ I ask warily, having learnt my lesson from last time.

  ‘No, I’m Harry,’ he replies. ‘Your singing teacher. That is, you are Jessie, aren’t you?’ he double-checks.

  ‘That’s me,’ I grin, swinging the door open wide.

  I give Meg a look as we pass her to go up to the studio. She smirks.

  ‘Better than Jan?’ she mouths.

  ‘Just a
bit,’ I mouth back with a wink.

  ‘What are you going to do when I go back to England?’ I ask Jack and Brandon later. Miles is late, so we’re chilling out in Jack’s back garden overlooking the view.

  ‘Skype?’ Jack jokes, glancing at me sideways.

  ‘When are you going back?’ Brandon asks with a startled look.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I reply honestly. ‘But I won’t be here forever.’

  ‘Dude!’ he exclaims, glaring at Jack.

  ‘Chill out,’ Jack replies calmly. ‘We need someone for San Fran, anyway.’

  ‘Er, hello?’ They both look at me. ‘You’re talking about me like I’m not even here. Didn’t you tell them I wasn’t here permanently?’ I ask Jack accusingly.

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ Brandon snaps. ‘Where’s Miles?’ he asks, getting to his feet and stalking off.

  ‘Whoops,’ I say, turning to Jack with a frown. ‘Why did you keep that quiet?’

  He shrugs. ‘You were the best option we had. Anyway, you’re not going home any time soon, are you?’

  ‘I guess not.’ Pause. ‘Tom’s not too happy about it.’

  He leans back on his elbows, but doesn’t comment and I suddenly feel weird that I confided that to him.

  ‘We’ll start without Miles if he’s not here in ten.’ He continues as though I haven’t just brought my boyfriend into the conversation.

  ‘Do you know where he is?’ I ask, moving on.

  ‘Er, mmm-hmm.’

  I glance at him quickly, but he’s staring at the view. ‘That sounds ominous,’ I say, but when he doesn’t reply I’m concerned. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Don’t tell Agnes.’ He glances at me, his eyebrows pulled together. ‘I think he might be seeing someone.’ He looks away again.

  ‘Oh.’ I didn’t know Jack knew about Agnes’s feelings, but he’s clearly more clued up than I gave him credit for. ‘Don’t you think she’d prefer to know the truth?’ I ask. ‘I mean, if he’s got a girlfriend—’

  ‘Unlikely,’ Jack cuts me off. ‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ he adds quickly, looking startled.

  What? What’s he going on about? Unlikely he’d have a girlfriend? Hang on… ‘Miles is gay?’ I ask with astonishment.

  ‘Crap,’ he mutters, getting out his cigarette packet. I think his irritation is directed at himself rather than me.

  ‘Does Agnes know?’ I ask with my mouth slightly agape, as he lights up. He shakes his head. ‘Brandon?’ Again, he shakes his head. ‘Does anyone else know?’

  He shrugs, looking more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him.

  ‘Wait, how do you know?’

  He looks past me. ‘They’re here,’ he says, meeting my eyes. ‘Don’t say anything,’ he warns again in a low voice.

  ‘I won’t, I promise.’

  ‘About time!’ he shouts at Miles and Brandon with a grin that I know is forced. He gets up and I follow him, my head reeling. Surely it’s better that Agnes knows. Jack has to tell her the truth. Why hasn’t he?

  I don’t get a chance to ask.

  A few days later I’m still in Johnny’s studio after singing practice when he comes in.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ he says when I do exactly that, switching off the All Hype backing track, as well.

  ‘Sorry, I’ll get out of your way,’ I say.

  ‘No, I was just coming in to listen.’ He shuts the door behind him and sits down on a chair facing the studio window. ‘It’s sounding good,’ he adds, nodding at me to continue.

  I feel self-conscious as I switch on the backing track again and start the song from the beginning. I’ve taken to using a mic stand, rather than the ones dangling from the ceiling, so I can practise properly.

  I sneak a glance at him after the first verse: he’s leaning back in his seat with his foot resting on his opposite knee, tapping along to the music. After that, I sing with a little more confidence and, when he smiles at me during an instrumental break, I smile back. He claps slowly when the song finishes.

  ‘Was it OK?’ I ask him, pressing my hands to my burning cheeks.

  ‘Great,’ he says, putting both feet on the ground and leaning forward in his seat. ‘And you’ve done that in a matter of days?’

  ‘I already knew their songs pretty well,’ I reply with a shrug.

  ‘I tell you what, that track would sound bloody good with keyboards in the chorus. You know, like…’ He starts to sing the melody and then hops up from his seat. ‘Hang on, I’ll show you.’

  He pushes through the glass door into the studio and goes over to the keyboard. ‘Play it again,’ he directs me, so I start the track over. The energy in the room has ramped up several notches.

  I listen without singing and, when the chorus comes in, he plays a sequence of chords on the keyboard. The sound fills the room with a whole new layer of melody. It’s awesome.

  ‘Sing!’ he shouts, so I do.

  I stare at him in wonder as the song finishes. ‘I didn’t know you could play the piano,’ I squeak.

  He shrugs. ‘I can play anything really.’

  My respect for him has just jumped to a whole new level.

  ‘I’m not sure anyone in All Hype can play the keyboard, though,’ I say.

  ‘You could learn,’ he replies, as though that’s the most obvious conclusion one could come to. ‘You’d look cool on the keyboards, front and centre. Not for every song, just a few,’ he says casually. My head is reeling. ‘You know, you should try going up on the bridge,’ he says.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I reply.

  He grins at my blank expression and then demonstrates what he means by singing a note differently to how I’d done it. I copy him, my insides expanding when I realise his advice is working.

  ‘Ask Harry to practise it with you,’ he suggests.

  But I’d rather ask him. I’m getting musical guidance from one of the most successful artists in the industry. It blows my mind. I can’t wait to show Jack.

  And Brandon and Miles, too, of course. But in the back of my mind I know I only added them as an afterthought.

  Johnny gives me a lift to rehearsals the next day, after spending two hours with me in the studio that same afternoon. Even Meg, Annie and Eddie came to listen to us in the end. I’m gradually getting more confident about singing in front of an audience. Of course, I know it’ll be a whole different ball game once we’re playing to a crowd of strangers, but I’m trying not to think about that.

  Jack buzzes us in when we arrive. Johnny helps me down from the back of his bike and roars out of the drive before the gates can close.

  Jack shakes his head with amusement as I take off my helmet. ‘I’m never going to get used to you coming here on the back of Johnny Jefferson’s motorcycle.’

  I smile at him. ‘Do you remember when you thought he was my – urgh,’ I finish, not able to say the word ‘boyfriend’ in relation to my dad.

  It was when Johnny had come with me to watch All Hype’s gig back in the summer. Eve was all over Jack and I was pretty upset because I didn’t even know that she and Jack had an on-off thing going – funnily enough, he hadn’t mentioned it when we’d been making out on his bed. Anyway, Jack accused me of misleading him, too, and then he gave Johnny a dirty, meaningful look. When I realised he thought I was Johnny’s bit on the side, I was so cross, I told him the truth, and called him a moron and a dickhead while I was at it.

  He gives me a dark look at the memory. ‘I said I was sorry about that.’

  ‘I know you did.’ We start walking towards the games room. ‘Are the others here yet?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  So it will just be the two of us. ‘There’s something I want to show you,’ I say.

  He flashes me an inquisitive look, so I explain. ‘My dad’s been in the studio with me, helping me with my vocals.’

  ‘OK,’ he says slowly.

  ‘Oh, and do any of you play the keyboards?’ I double-check.

  ‘What? No.�
�� He gives me a wry look. ‘Is Johnny messing with our arrangements?’

  ‘He had a couple of suggestions,’ I say, belatedly worrying that I’ve offended him. ‘But he’ll have to show you the chords himself as I can’t play yet. I don’t know, maybe I could learn…’

  ‘Christ,’ he says affectionately, wrapping his arm round my neck and giving me a playful squeeze. ‘You’ll be writing lyrics next.’

  I already do… But it will be a while before I have the courage to show him.

  Luckily he lets me go before he can see how affected I am by his touch. He still looks amused as we wander into the games room, but my next words wipe the smile from his face.

  ‘Hey, about Miles.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ he replies firmly.

  ‘You have to tell Agnes.’ I’m pleading with him, but he cuts me off.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I promised Miles I’d never tell anyone. I can’t actually believe I told you.’

  ‘You didn’t. I guessed,’ I reply.

  ‘Yeah, how did you do that?’ He frowns at me and shakes his head.

  ‘Look, I know Agnes won’t be happy, but what’s the big deal if he’s gay?’ I say.

  ‘Shh!’ he warns.

  ‘At least it’s not because of her,’ I add, and then suddenly he’s in front of me, his hands on my arms, staring down at me.

  ‘Not. Another. Word.’

  My heart leaps into my throat as I stare up into his blue-grey eyes.

  ‘Please,’ he adds.

  I swallow, then nod and he releases me, my arms burning from his grasp. Not for the first time, I tell myself to get a grip.

  He doesn’t look at me as he picks up his guitar and I feel inexplicably nervous as I step up to the mic. ‘What do you want to start with?’ he asks, staring at his guitar strings rather than at me.

  ‘Um, how about ‘Killer’?’ My voice sounds quiet and unconfident, the unease still strong between us.

  ‘OK.’ He nods and starts to play.

  I’m supposed to be showing him what I’ve done with the vocals, so I force myself to sing to him, but it’s a little while before he meets my eyes and, when he does, my head prickles.

  Oh, Jack, why do I have to fancy you still?