Love Struck

by Laurelin McGee

  “Oh, God, I can’t…” Lou trailed off.

  “It actually made a crack noise?” Wes asked in awe.

  “Swear to God,” Jax nodded. “Followed by immense, thought-I-was-dying pain. I’m pretty sure I passed out.”

  “You did,” Lou confirmed. “That’s when that chick of yours came to find me. You were just coming to when I got there.”

  Jesus, it sounded terrible.

  Wes leaned forward in his chair. “A backbend, though. Dude!”

  “I know, right?” Jax drug-hazed grin also showed a fair amount of pride. “Chelle’s a gymnast.”

  “High-five, man.”

  God, they were ridiculously juvenile. High-fiving over broken equipment? Eli couldn’t begin to understand. “And where is Chelle now? She didn’t think she should see you to the hospital?”

  “She offered, but I said hell no. I don’t need to have any press leaks attaching me to a specific girl. Not good for my bachelor rep.” Jax waggled his eyebrows around, held up a wavering hand for another high-five that nobody took.

  “What press leaks? What rep? Do you have some secret celebrity identity that I’m unaware of?” Eli was genuinely confused.

  “Damn, you have a stick up your ass today, don’t you? Maybe if you’re nice I’ll share some of my meds with you later. It will chill you out.” The hand was still just wobbling around in space. It was becoming distracting.

  “I don’t need meds and I don’t need to chill,” Eli tried to say in a placating voice. The guy had been through enough, but even he could hear the hard edge was still in his voice.

  “Is this still about earlier? You’d think you’d give me a break considering my condition.” The hand began a familiar vague gesture.

  “Yes, this is about earlier. Not just earlier today, but even before that. And give you a break? That’s exactly what I’m giving you. But I meant what I said this morning—I’m not giving you my songs anymore. And I’m not giving you my sympathy. I’m giving you notice. The Blue Hills are done. There’s your break.” So much for placation. The dude had broken his junk. May as well give him the broken-band news too. At least he had morphine.

  Wes sat up, his eyes wide. “You’re quitting the band?”

  “Eli, he’s about to go into surgery. Do you really think this is the time or the place for this conversation?” Lou’s hands began to do wiggly things similar to Jax’s, but his were born of horror, not forgetfulness.

  “Probably not, Lou, but this can’t wait. See, I think half the reason Jax keeps doing these stupid things”—no, he needed to direct this at the guilty party—“I think half the reason you keep doing these stupid ass things is because you think you have to. You think you have to be an ass to be a star. Or that you have to contribute to the songwriting to be part of the band. You don’t think that what you are is good enough. So you show up late and change my songs and cut your wrists, all so you’ll be noticed.”

  Jax lowered his head and studied his hospital gown. “It was for art,” he mumbled, though not with as much conviction as he usually did.

  “Here’s the thing, Jax. It backfired. You cried wolf and instead of getting noticed, you made us—you made me—want to ignore you. Or put up with you. But I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not putting up with you. Because I notice you. And I love you, Jax.” Eli shot a glance at the drummer in the corner. “I love you like a brother, J. You’re a talented son of a bitch. You used to believe that. You’re the person who first inspired me. You still inspire me and I want you to be happy. And I don’t think you’re happy at all. I think you’re faking it.”

  Jax peeked up at Eli. “Everybody’s faking it.”

  Eli couldn’t help smiling. His own words thrown back at him. Touché. “I do think everybody’s faking most of life. The I’ve-got-it-together part, anyway. But maybe happiness can be something we can have for real. At least, I want to try. I hope you want to try too.”

  He’d been thinking about this for the last two hours, but once he said it, it would be real. His next words would change everything.

  But they’d open all the right doors too. Clear the right paths. Doors and paths that led back to a man who just might be the one Lacy was looking for. Sure going solo was scary. So what? He’d have to record an album as soon as possible and set up gigs, if he wanted this to work. Which meant it might be longer than he liked before he got back to his Songbird. But she had an album to record of her own, and he would never forgive himself if he stood in her way.

  But he was getting ahead of himself. He had this next thing to do first. “So I’m not quitting the band, exactly. I’m proposing that the Blue Hills go on indefinite hiatus. It will give you a chance to get your head together and regroup. Rediscover your talent. Figure out what you really want out of this music thing. What you really want out of life. Help you realize who you are. And…”

  He looked around at his other bandmates, guys he was bound to by music, if not by friendship. “I’m really sorry it happened like this. I hope you know how much all this has meant. And I want—God I want it to work out…” But that was all he could get out before he got choked up.

  It was like all the words he knew he should say to make it right with the other guys, the guys who had nothing to do with Jax’s problems, had gotten trapped somewhere under the lump in his throat. It was like he couldn’t force them out. It was like he understood, for the first time, how Lacy must have felt.

  * * *

  Lacy huddled in her blanket fort and studied the way the light snuck through the thinner parts. She should grab the thick quilt from her closet to make a really good fort, but as much as she wanted the darkness, she didn’t want to move from her spot. She’d done a lot of not moving from her spot since she got home from the tour. In fact, except for working her shifts at the studio and the rehearsals she’d scheduled for herself to get ready for her recording session, not moving from her spot was all she did.

  Thirteen days. It had been thirteen days since she came home. Thirteen days since she’d last seen Eli outside The Night Owl. When he hadn’t followed her, she’d gone back to her hotel room and tried not to fall apart. A half hour or so later, Sammy had texted to tell her that the show was canceled for some undisclosed reason. In fact, the whole tour was on hiatus until further notice. Since they already had the following day off, Lacy had bought a spur-of-the-moment train ticket home.

  As she left, she told Sammy to call her when it was time to return, but not to contact her otherwise.

  Thirteen days later, she hadn’t heard from Sammy or Eli. But she had heard from Lou. That very morning, in fact. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the news he’d delivered, but it had driven her under the covers.

  “Hey, are you recording in there or can I come in?” Andy’s voice came through muffled, but decipherable.

  “It’s not a recording fort. Just a regular old I-don’t-want-to-face-the-world fort.”

  “Then I can come in.”

  Actually, no. The world includes you too, sis.

  But Lacy said, “Sure. Whatever. Watch the sippy cup.”

  Andy was already making her way into the supposed-to-be-solitary confinement, so it turned out her invitation wasn’t even needed.

  “So,” she said after she’d settled in. “What’s the latest from Lou? When can the tour get back on the road?” Her voice was too loud for the fort. Too perky.

  “Never.” Lacy would pitch her own tone deep and low to counteract. If they talked at the same time, there would be perfect harmony.

  “Are you being dramatic?”

  Lacy inched a pillow over her face. “Nope.”

  Andy jabbed Lacy with her elbow, prodding her to go on.

  “Ow!” Lacy rubbed her joint even though it didn’t really hurt. Yeah, she was being dramatic. She sighed. “The tour is canceled. Lou texted.”

  It probably shouldn’t bother her. There were only eighteen days left before the tour was supposed to end anyway. Then there was Thanksgivi
ng. After that she was recording her album. Something she was now looking forward to. After her block had released, her songs had poured out like a broken dam. Now she had too many to record them all in the time she had booked over the next three weeks.

  “Oh. Well, that’s a bummer.” Andy didn’t really mean it though. More than once she’d told Lacy how glad she was to have her sister home.

  And it made sense why she’d want Lacy home because one week after her studio time ended, was Christmas Eve. The day of the big “I do.” The day that, once upon a time, Lacy was supposed to have met Folx.

  Eli Frank. Not for the first time she wondered what it would have been like to meet him there at the wedding reception. She could imagine him in a tux, his scruffy hair and face giving away his true hipster vibe. He’d smile at her when he took her hand, his eyes crinkling in that way she loved.

  She missed him so much her skin itched.

  That stupid tour ruined everything.

  Andy said nothing for a few minutes—which was a miracle—but she couldn’t ever be quiet for long. “Did Lou fill you in at all about why the tour was canceled?”

  Yes. He did. And this was the real reason why Lacy was under the covers today. “Said the band broke up.”

  “Damn. Wasn’t expecting that.”

  Lacy wasn’t sure what she had expected. She’d thought through a lot of different scenarios, of course, but all Sammy or Lou had ever told her was it was a personal matter.

  Deep down she didn’t have to be told the reason, though. She knew.

  Like her sister often did, particularly when it was most annoying, Andy read Lacy’s mind when she said, “It’s not because of you. You know that, right?”

  The pillow inched back down. “What’s not because of me?”

  “The band breaking up.” Andy sat up suddenly, destroying her side of the fort. “Oh, my God—that’s what you think, isn’t it? That you’re the cause of the Blue Hills breakup?”

  “No!” Yes. “Dammit, Andy, you messed up the blankets.”

  Andy gave her a leveled gaze that contained exactly no remorse.

  Fine. She sat up as well, her den of solitude now a definite thing of the past. “I don’t know, Andy. Maybe I’m not the cause of it. But it’s awfully suspicious how the timing of all of it worked out, if you ask me.” The coincidence of the tour hiatus happening directly after her fight with Eli, which was directly after his confrontation with Jax—how could it not be because of her? She’d created a rift so deep between the two men that they couldn’t even perform together.

  No wonder Eli didn’t want to fight for her—she was a band destroyer.

  “You can’t know what it’s really about if you don’t talk to the guy.”

  Never mind that Andy’s words had some truth to them. It wasn’t as if the idea hadn’t crossed Lacy’s mind, oh, uh, every other minute of the day.

  “I told him he was supposed to fight for me, Andy. Fight means, you know, actually try to make things right. If I call him it will just null and void the whole thing.”

  “Have you tried to see if he’s on that Soryan thing?”

  “It’s SoWriAn. And yes, I did.” Every day for thirteen days, in fact. “He deactivated his account after his breakup with LoveCoda, and the status hasn’t changed.” Man, she was beginning to regret she’d told her sister things, since it required her to keep telling her things.

  “Would Lou have his contact info, do you think?” Andy sounded more confident now.

  No way was Lacy going to just let Andy “fix” things. “Yeah. I’m sure he would. But like I said, I’m not going after him.”

  “And you have Lou’s info in your phone?” The confidence was bordering on slyness.

  “Yeah, I…” But why would her sister want to know that? “Andy! Stay out of this!” Thank God her sister was so transparent. Now she knew to password-safe her phone immediately. Jeez. How humiliating would it be for her big sister to be calling her ex-not-boyfriend and discussing their not-relationship.

  “Just trying to be helpful.”

  Lacy fell back onto the bed with a heavy “humph.” “I know you are.” And she really did know that.

  She inched up the bed so that this time when she sat up she could lean against the headboard. Then she put a hand on Andy’s thigh. “I appreciate it. I really do. But honestly, I think I’m going to be just fine.”

  Andy cocked a questioning brow. “For reals fine? Or just say-you’re-fine fine?

  “For reals fine.” She wasn’t telling fibs like she had in the past either. She’d get through this. She’d survived losing her parents and a fiancé. This was cake comparatively.

  Well, not cake. Because she hurt like a mother, every part of her heart broken and rejected. She ached for Eli in a way she’d never ached for anyone—probably because he’d loved her in a way no one had ever loved her.

  But she’d given him some good advice when she’d told him to fight for the things she loved. And she loved herself. Not in a self-righteous way, but in a respectful way that made her want to get up every morning no matter how much it hurt. Get up and move on. That was her fight, and even though she was currently moping about, she thought she was doing a pretty damn good job of it.

  “You know, Andy, things didn’t happen this fall like I thought they would. There were certainly a fair amount of Plot Twist moments that I could have lived without. But the experience helped me move past Lance finally. I got to experience touring. And it gave me a handful of new songs, and I know without a doubt that this album I’m about to record wouldn’t be the same if I hadn’t gone through all of this.” More accurately, the album wouldn’t be at all. “So really, in the end, I have to say it’s been painfully worth it.”

  Andy smiled, her eyes full of understanding. “This is one of those suffering-for-your-art things that I’m never going to get, isn’t it?”

  So much for understanding. “Probably.” But even if Andy didn’t quite get her, Lacy knew she at least accepted her. And if it ever came down to it, Andy would fight for her, tooth and nail.

  There really wasn’t anything more she could ask from someone who said she loved her.

  “Hey, Lacy?” She opened an eye at her sister. “My bachelorette party’s in two hours.”

  As Andy hopped out, the tent collapsed entirely.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Okay, I’m the judge now?” Blake asked. For an intelligent, self-made man who owned a highly successful company, the guy was having an awfully hard time picking up on how to play Cards Against Humanity. Or perhaps he was just hoping against hope that they’d switch to Monopoly if he played slow enough.

  “I guess if we had more friends, you’d have to spend less time choosing which of us picked the most horrible card.”

  “Iiiiiiiiiiiii,” came a voice. Well, Andy may not have needed anyone else, but she’d invited them regardless. Pierce was the recovering alcoholic her sister had met during her brief stint as a bartender. They’d discovered tonight that he was experimenting with pot versus booze. So far, he was just as strange, but stayed clothed. Good enough.

  “Why would we need more friends, when we have family?” Blake’s hand briefly covered Lacy’s. She blinked back tears. Minus the stoned guy in the corner, it was basically just how she’d pictured the night before her own wedding. Well, they’d be around a Scrabble board instead of a card table, but close enough.

  Luckily, there was a knock on the door before she could lose her shit completely. She fingered the stone that hung at her collar, a necklace she made out of her engagement ring only that week. After only wearing it a couple of days, she’d already gotten used to the feel of it. It felt a lot lighter than it had when she’d worn it on her hand. And now, when she touched it for comfort, she didn’t think specifically of any person.

  “Hi friends! And enemy! We brought more booze.” Jaylene, obviously, plunking a bottle of red next to the discard pile. Her neighbor was not a fan of Blake, but how sweet that sh
e’d show up for Andy.

  “We don’t say that to people, I don’t think.” Noah, Jaylene’s boyfriend, couldn’t hide his grin though. Well, to be fair, Blake probably did have a lot of enemies.

  “Okay, I’m going with this one.” Blake threw down the winning card, and Andy squealed and threw her arms up.

  “Mine! I’m going to beat everyone! Suckers!” Blake smacked her on the ass.

  Lacy leaned into Kat and whispered, “I thought your card was better.”

  Kat beamed and it didn’t matter that Lacy had no idea what Kat’s card had said or even what Andy’s had said. It wasn’t exactly an apology—and she’d give her that too, eventually—but this was a start.

  Andy was still celebrating her win, so out of curiosity, Lacy peered over Pierce’s drooping head to see the card that had taken the round. It read “That’s What She Said”.

  Then Lacy was thinking of someone. Eli. Because she missed the hell out of that guy. And tomorrow night, when the group around this table gathered around an altar to celebrate Blake and Andy’s ridiculous, improbable, adorable love, he was going to be the one she was longing for.

  * * *

  Lacy pressed her back against the closed door even though the lock was secured. “We’ll be ready in a few minutes, Tim,” she called to the man banging on the other side.

  Tim’s voice screeched so loudly that Lacy wasn’t quite sure what he said but she thought there was something about a “schedule to keep” and “splintering wood” and “not afraid to rip this tux.” Surely she was misunderstanding, although she was sadly certain she was not.

  “I understand, Tim. But you can’t rush perfection.” At least, she hoped that’s what was keeping Andy trapped in the bathroom for so long with the makeup artist. Lacy didn’t know how much longer she could keep Tim at bay. That girl’s tip was going down.

  She had an idea, though. “Tim, could you maybe get us some drinks? You know, to calm our nerves?”

  “Drinks before the wedding!” Tim’s response was somewhat calmer this time and therefore his words intelligible.