by Vicky Owen
‘Lexi, right?’ Harry says, bouncing the ball against the ground now.
‘Yeah,’ I respond.
Harry gives Luc a pointed look.
‘It’s not what you think,’ says Luc.
‘What am I thinking?’
Luc ignores the question. ‘Lexi’s going to come to a few events and gigs to give any onlookers the impression that she’s my new girlfriend.’
‘You’re right,’ says Harry, catching the ball and leaning back. ‘That isn’t what I was thinking.’ He looks at me. ‘Hate to tell you this, but you’re doing a bad job so far, sweetie.’
‘Oh?’ I look to Luc, confused. Luc narrows his eyes at Harry.
‘Yep. You’re nothing like his ex. She never came to our gigs.’
Luc frowns. ‘That’s not true.’ There’s a defensive edge to his voice. Not over her, maybe. Can’t help wondering why they broke up.
‘It’s true for the last couple of years,’ Harry says, tossing the ball up in the air and catching it again.
Luc doesn’t say anything. The silence is awkward.
I pull out my phone to message Cerys.
What happened? Is everything OK? x
I know it’s not, but what the hell else am I supposed to say?
Really glad I’m not a part of this mess. Except I kind of am. Now.
I put my phone away. Cerys won’t reply any time soon.
Across the room, Miseducation are leaving. Probably wondering if touring with oh-so-happy No Reckless is such a great idea after all.
The door Gethin slammed earlier opens back up and he walks out, heading for us. His face is less thunderous than a few moments ago.
‘Can we start packing up?’ Harry says.
‘No.’ Gethin looks at me, pausing for a second. ‘Lexi, right?’
‘She’s Luc’s new girlfriend,’ says Harry, rolling his eyes.
Gethin looks confused. ‘What?’
‘No,’ I say, not really sure if I’m supposed to speak but speaking anyway, ‘I’m just…I’m, like, pretending to be his girlfriend.’ I’m not entirely sure how to word it. There’s no way to say it without sounding like I’m selling myself.
Technically, I am.
Gethin just looks even more confused.
‘Hayley won’t leave me alone,’ Luc tries to explain, ‘so I’m trying something new.’
Gethin and Harry exchange a look.
I shift in my seat. Really wishing I hadn’t agreed to this.
Luc gently rests his hand on my shoulder, and I wonder if he’s aware of my discomfort.
‘So,’ Harry says after a moment, ‘the gear?’
Gethin shakes his head. ‘Uh, yeah. We can leave it if you want. I’ve sorted it out with the promoter. We’ve got a make-up gig in a few weeks.’
‘What about practice?’ says Harry.
The sound of footsteps interrupts as Jake rejoins us, still damp but not dripping on the floor any more. He looks at me, then at Luc, but says nothing.
‘We’ll manage with whatever’s in your basement,’ Gethin is saying.
Harry gets up. ‘Fine. Everyone ready?’
I stand, though uncertain if I’m included in the everyone part.
‘You lot go ahead. I want to double-check my kit,’ says Luc.
‘We can wait.’
‘It’s fine. I’ll speak to you later.’
‘OK. Kath—the promoter—is in her office,’ Gethin says. ‘Let her know when you’re leaving and she’ll lock up.’
The three of them leave. Just the two of us now.
‘C’mon,’ says Luc, walking back out front, towards the stage.
‘What do you need to check?’ I say, hurrying after him, our footsteps echoing in the empty hall as we emerge onto the stage.
‘Nothing. You just seemed fascinated with the drum stuff last time. Thought you might wanna play.’
He heads over to his drum kit. I hang back.
‘I’m really not very musical,’ I say slowly, looking at the mess of metal that he somehow turns into an actual rhythm when he’s hitting it.
He walks back over to me, taking my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world—like it isn’t making my insides a mess of fireworks—and pulling me towards the stool.
‘Luc, I’m really not,’ I protest, but letting him take over anyway.
‘You’re practically built for drumming,’ he says, guiding me to sit down behind the confusing contraption.
‘I am?’
He nods, putting the drumsticks in my hands. ‘Tall. Long arms.’
‘No natural rhythm?’ I interject, raising my eyebrows.
‘This is just for fun,’ he says, stepping back and assessing the set-up. ‘Hang on.’ He disappears backstage then reappears with a chair, placing it behind me and sitting on it.
He shifts forward until he’s pressed up against me.
Oh God.
‘OK,’ he says, his breath just gently brushing at my neck. I fight every fibre of my being to stop the shiver that’s threatening to shake my body and betray everything. His hands reach around me, finding mine and aligning with them. Controlling me from behind.
How am I supposed to concentrate with some sexy drummer actually touching me?
He shifts closer.
‘I’ll just show you some rudiments to start,’ he says quietly, his voice low and near.
‘Some what?’
‘We’ll start super simple. Just some paradiddles.’
‘What?!’ It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language. Stupid sexy drummer boy language.
He starts guiding my hands. Left right left left right left right right…
‘Relax your arms,’ he says.
I watch my hands move. ‘Is this a para…thingy?’
I feel the nodding of his head next to mine. ‘Paradiddle.’
Such a stupid word.
He shifts slightly closer, getting a better grip on me.
‘See, you’re a natural,’ he says, changing up the rhythm slightly.
‘I’m not doing anything!’ I protest, laughing.
‘Oh, you will. I’m just giving you a feel for it.’
I let my head tip slightly to one side, towards Luc. His lips brush against my neck.
‘Shouldn’t my arms be crossed or something?’ I say. Anything to not completely lose myself.
‘Not for this.’
‘Oh,’ I frown, ‘but every drummer I’ve seen—rock drummers, I mean—they all have their arms crossed.’
‘Not for this sort of thing.’ His voice is like caramel. How can he sound so hot saying something so dull?
‘And what it this, exactly?’
‘This is just a few rudiments. They’re like little exercises.’
I turn my head to look at him as he keeps control of my arms, beating the snare drum. He smells so good. ‘But…how does this help you drum for real?’
Luc changes the rhythm slightly, and I turn my head forward again to try to follow what he’s doing. ‘Practice and performance are two different things.’
Like us then, I frown to myself.
‘So show me something real.’
He pauses for a moment. ‘OK.’ He shifts even closer, crossing our arms in front of me. ‘You’re going to have to use the kick drum.’
‘The what?’
‘The bass drum. The pedal.’
He takes me slowly through a basic rock beat, showing me when to use my foot as he continues to guide my hands. Slowly at first, then steadily getting faster.
I let myself settle into the rhythm, trying to engage my arms more while still hitting the bass drum in time. As repetition takes over and my body relaxes a little, my mind begins to wander.
‘Lucas,’ I say quietly as his hands shift, fully interlocking with mine, both of us holding the drumsticks now. ‘Do you do this with all of your girls?’
‘All of my girls?’ His mouth so close to my ear, his arms still moving mine in an increasingly complex rhy
thm.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, Alexis. I don’t have any other girls.’ His legs tighten slightly around my hips.
‘Have you ever done this before?’ My voice is barely above a whisper.
‘No.’ He rests his head against mine, and I somehow manage to resist the urge to pull his arms tightly around my body, away from the drums. ‘I don’t usually let anyone touch my drum kit.’
THIRTEEN
Luc
MUSIC ISN’T REALLY my thing x
I down my drink and swivel around on my bar stool to face the dance floor. The music is thumping and I know there are plenty of women just a few feet away who would be up for just about anything if I could be bothered to look up from my phone.
Oh yeah? I reply. So why’d you come see us play? Twice!
I hit send as Gethin nudges me and nods in the direction of some seats, then heads over there with Jake. They’re still bickering about what happened at the gig. My phone vibrates in my hand.
One of those was because of you, and I meant me playing music!! x
I type and send a response.
You came just for me? ;) And you don’t play music? Even CDs? :o
I smirk to myself, imagining her exasperation at my playing dumb. The frown creasing her brow and her mouth screwed up in frustration.
Even more fun was having her practically on my lap the other night. I shouldn’t have. It was too dangerous to get so close. Almost playing with fire when I could feel her shifting and melting into me. I like control but it was fucking hard to maintain with her sweet scent and soft skin touching me. Having the drumming to focus on helped, and she actually managed to learn quite a bit. Got me thinking I was wrong about her.
Got me thinking other things, too. Things I really shouldn’t be entertaining.
Phone buzzing in my hand.
You know what I mean. Dick.
It’s not so much a smirk as a full-blown grin this time as I type a response.
So you free tonight?
I send it and lean back against the bar. There are seven unread messages on my phone, too. All Hayley. The snippets I’ve seen indicate they’re a mixture of threats and pleas and bitching about Lexi. Wonder what she’d say about the dance floor practically throbbing with available women right in front of me.
I could easily pick up a girl here and take her home tonight.
My phone buzzes.
I’m home alone x
‘SO WHAT KIND of crap night were you having that made you think to come here instead?’
Lexi, in red shorts and a white t-shirt, blocks the entrance to her flat. She balances on one foot, the other pressed against her thigh. One arm stretches up against the door frame as long dark hair falls over her shoulders.
Long arms, long legs, long hair.
‘You’re the one home alone.’
Lexi raises an eyebrow.
‘Right.’ She drops her arm and turns away, walking back into the flat.
I follow, closing the door behind me, wondering why I’m really here. It’s not like this can go anywhere.
‘Drink?’ she calls from the room at the end of the hall. I have to duck slightly to avoid headbutting the light shades as I walk towards her voice and finally enter an open-plan kitchen and living area. Lexi has her back to me, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out some mugs.
‘Tea?’ She turns to me after setting them down on the counter.
‘Tea?’ I echo.
‘Yeah. Take your pick.’ Lexi opens another cupboard, this one stacked with boxes of differing sizes and colours.
‘That’s a lot of tea!’
‘I know, right?’ she says, grinning. ‘So which one?’
The kettle is already starting to rumble slightly with boiling water.
‘Maybe just a glass of water?’
She tilts her head at me. ‘Hmmm. Nope!’ She spins around to face the cupboard, grabbing one of the green boxes.
‘Guess I’m having tea.’ I head for one of the sofas—the one that has a smattering of books and notes on the floor in front of it. I pick up a thick textbook with a praying mantis on the cover and flick through.
Two minutes later, she carefully places two steaming cups of tea on a little table next to the sofa.
‘Entomology, huh?’ I close the book and set it back down in front of me.
‘You’re cleverer than you look.’ Lexi sits next to me on the sofa, folding her legs up underneath her and facing me.
‘Are you calling me a dumb blond?’
‘Your words, not mine.’ She reaches over and picks up her cup, holding it it delicately between her fingers.
I pick up mine, not realising how fucking hot the thing is. ‘Shit!’ I hiss, putting it back on the table.
Lexi snorts with laughter.
‘You know,’ I say, shaking my hand in a weak attempt to cool my fingers down, ‘I miss shy Lexi.’
‘I was never shy,’ she says. I watch in horror as she actually sips the scalding hot tea like it’s just tepid water.
‘You definitely were.’
Lexi shakes her head, still sipping from the mug.
‘What is that anyway?’
‘Lemon green tea,’ she says. ‘Try it.’
I’m not touching that thing again. ‘You know,’ I try to deflect, ‘I don’t usually drink tea.’
‘Yeah, and I don’t usually play the drums. If I have to try new things then so do you. And why did you come here?’ she demands.
I’m not used to girls demanding to know why I’m here. I’m used to them wanting more of me, not less. Demanding I stay longer. Begging for more.
‘I’m all for trying new things, but maybe I didn’t want tea.’
She tilts her head and raises her eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘Maybe’—I look her dead in her round, dark eyes—‘I just wanted a tall drink of water.’
I catch the smile forming on her lips just as she looks down, hair falling forward over her shoulders.
‘Oh, look who it is. Hello shy Lexi.’ I throw my arm across the back of the sofa, enjoying my victory.
A sudden loud knocking on the door causes her to look up again. Her cheeks are flushed pink.
‘Cerys?’
It’s Jake.
Lexi’s eyes widen.
I don’t want him to know I’m here. I don’t want an interrogation from the rest of the fucking band.
More knocking, louder this time.
‘My bedroom,’ Lexi whispers. I jump up with a bit too much enthusiasm and head for the hallway, towards the knocking and not entirely sure which room I should be going for.
‘Your tea!’ she hisses after me. I turn and she shoves the hot cup in my hand.
‘Fuck fuck fuck!’ I mutter under my breath, trying to hold the thing with as little skin contact as possible.
‘Cerys!’
He’s fucking persistent, I’ll give him that.
Lexi guides me into a room and shuts the door abruptly behind me.
As her footsteps fade down the hallway towards the front door, I find myself scanning her tiny bedroom.
It’s not what I expected. She never even hinted at this.
It’s not the pink bedsheets, or the cluttered dresser, or the mess of worksheets scattered in the corner. It’s not even the intoxicating smell of her that lingers in the air here.
It’s the walls.
‘She’s out.’
‘Where?’ Jake’s voice gets louder as he walks into the flat. I briefly wonder whether he was even invited in.
‘Uh, some game night, I think,’ Lexi’s voice responds.
She’s not telling the whole truth. I can tell already. She’s a terrible liar.
‘When will she be back?’ Jake is in the room next door. The other bedroom.
Their voices fade to a muffle, and I turn my attention back to Lexi’s room.
Photographs. Dozens of them. The wall on the other side of the room is plastered with them.
And they’re good. I mean, really good. I put the mug down on the bedside table before walking around the bed to get a closer look.
Photos of bumblebees. Friends on nature walks and at the top of Pen-y-Fan.
Some photos I don’t really recognise, but I think they’re of cells in a Petri dish or something.
Lexi’s not in most of the photos. Maybe a dozen. The rest must be her own work. The difference in quality is glaring.
Why isn’t she doing photography?
‘She’s outside!’ Jake suddenly yells from somewhere outside the room, and there are quick, heavy footsteps followed by a door slam.
Then quiet.
The door behind me opens. ‘Well, he’s gone.’
‘What was that all about?’ I keep studying the photos. Pictures of gigs. I frown. Don’t remember her having a camera at Tram House.
‘Looking for Cerys. She just got home.’ Lexi walks over to the window next to me and peeks through the blinds. She sighs and then steps back. ‘Did you drink your tea?’
‘Nope. These are good, by the way.’ I indicate to the wall.
She shrugs, then spots the cup next to her bed and goes to retrieve it.
‘So why are you doing biology when you could be doing something with photography?’
Lexi leans towards me over the bed, holding out the cup. I take it, apprehensively. It’s not so scorching now.
‘That’s just a hobby. Or was, at least.’ She nods at the cup I’m holding. ‘Try it.’
I sigh. She’s not letting this go, so I take a sip.
It’s not so bad.
‘Yeah?’ she says, her eyes partially hidden by her heavy fringe as she watches me from the other side of the bed.
‘It’s OK, I guess.’
She grins, her face lighting up, taking it as a win. ‘So why are you here?’
Her shorts and t-shirt suddenly seem like far too little clothing.
‘The make-up gig at the SU is this week.’ I drain the rest of the cup, trying to concentrate on something other than Lexi and the bed between us. I wasn’t supposed to see her again. Now I’m in her bedroom drinking lemon green tea for fuck’s sake.
Lexi sighs audibly. ‘That’s all?’
I peer through the blinds. No sign of Jake or Cerys.
‘I should get out of here before they come back,’ I say to the window, running my hand through my hair.
