“Nope. Not a thing.”
“I didn’t think so.” He grinned at me and winked, then leaned over and turned on the CD player, cranking it, and Slayer came through the speakers. I leaned my head against the back of the seat. The roads might have been bad, but I was having fun. Although I didn’t know it, it was one of the last innocent fun times I was going to experience in my young life.
After some time, though, we drove through a sleepy little town. Ethan turned off onto a side street and pulled his truck to a stop in front of a large white ranch-style house. Zane opened the door and Ethan said, “See you in a while.” Zane bobbed his chin in agreement at Ethan and smiled at me, then reached in the bed of the truck for his bag. He shook off the snow and started walking down a path to the front door. A woman with short brown hair opened the door and pulled Zane into an embrace. I was fairly certain the woman was his mother.
But before he was fully in her hug, Ethan was already driving down the block where he turned the corner. A few more blocks and we reached his house, a two-story brick home that had to be decades old. It didn’t appear to be rundown, just older. Once we got out of his truck, I enjoyed the feeling of stretching my legs a bit. Ethan reached in the back of the truck and grabbed both his luggage and mine. He said, “I guess mom’s not back from work yet.” I followed his eyes to the driveway and figured out his mother’s car was missing.
He handed me my suitcase, and we walked up to the door. Once inside, I looked around and fell in love with it. Just seeing the house made me love his mother. The place was decorated in warm, rich earth tones and velvety furniture. The wood used for end tables and the coffee table was probably mahogany, polished to a gleaming shine, and the sofa and chairs were a deep rich burgundy. I stood in the doorway for a few seconds just taking it all in when Ethan said, “Come on. I’ll show you around.” We walked through the kitchen and he asked, “Want something to eat?” I shook my head and followed him up a stairway at the back of the kitchen.
We walked down a hall into his bedroom. I dropped my suitcase just inside the doorway, not sure where to put it but definitely tired of carrying it. “Like it?” Like it?—I loved it because the room felt like Ethan. It wasn’t as big as our dorm rooms, but it was decent sized (and made for one guy). There were posters of some of my favorite rock bands on the walls, but also one with cars, and another two with nameless girls in bathing suits trying to look sexy. There were so many posters, I could hardly see the walls. A double bed took the back and center position right below a large window, a television directly across from it, and an electric guitar in a corner. My eyes riveted on that guitar and everything else in that room became background. I could only nod my head to Ethan’s last question. I knew he had a guitar at school too, a red-toned beauty, but this one was understated. It was shiny and black, completely black, from the strap pin on the body all the way to—and including—the head stock. It was one of the loveliest guitars I’d ever seen. Of course, I realized it was also because it appeared to be Ethan’s pride and joy. I walked over to it and squatted down on my haunches so I could really appreciate it.
Ethan was right behind me. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Want me to play you a few chords?” I nodded, excited, but then I heard his cell phone ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He smiled. “Hold on a sec.” He answered the phone. “Hey, dude. How’s it going?” He paused, and I felt a little uncomfortable just watching him talk on the phone. I needed to find the restroom too, so I walked over to the doorway and peeked out. I knew there had to be a bathroom up there somewhere, so I walked down the hall toward the mostly likely area. I could hear him talking and his voice moved with him, probably curious about what I was doing. He said, “You know that friend I told you about?” There was another pause on the line, and I didn’t plan to hear anymore as I’d found the restroom. By the time I was done, he was off the phone. I found him in his room again, and this time he was cradling that guitar on his lap, striking its strings. It was electric, though, and there was no amp nearby, so I could barely hear what he was playing. “That was Brad on the phone. He’s part of the band, and we’ll be going to his house tonight.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to seem too eager but, God, was I.
He got some sandwich supplies out of the fridge, and we made ourselves a couple of sandwiches. Then he switched on the television and started flipping through channels. “Mind if I do a little studying?” I asked. I was going to kick myself if I failed all my exams, just because I had to follow Ethan.
“Go ahead,” he said, and I set up shop at the kitchen table where I was less likely to be distracted by either the TV or the boy. And I studied hard until a while later, when Ethan came in the kitchen and asked to borrow a piece of my notebook paper. He wrote a note to his mom since she still hadn’t returned from work, and then we left so I could meet the band.
* * *
“Valerie, right? Ethan’s told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.” Well, if that wasn’t flattering and didn’t just make me feel like the belle of the ball, nothing would. Brad Payne, Ethan’s best friend, was a sweet guy who had an eye for the girls (at least that’s how Ethan had described him long before I had the chance to meet him and make a judgment for myself). He was taller than Ethan, though not much, with shiny black hair, longer than any of the other guys in the band. And his eyes were dark, full of secrets…but those secrets didn’t feel sinister, not at all. The way his lips looked like they were going to twitch up in a smile at any given second made me feel like his secrets were fun…and like he wanted to share them with me. Brad…he could almost make me forget about Ethan. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, so I was able to see he had half a sleeve of a tattoo on his right arm. He was already working on looking like a rock star. And he probably worked out. That much I could tell. He grabbed my hand to shake it and said, “Like the ink?”
Oh, God. I could feel the red heat rising from my neck as it spread to my cheeks. But I’d already been caught staring. “Yeah.” Might as well be honest, right?
Ethan had already plugged his guitar into the desk-sized amp and was tuning it, and Zane wasn’t far behind. So Brad, not letting go of my hand, mind you, led me over to the drums where Nick already sat. But he was on his phone, watching a video or something. He was a quiet guy but nice. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, and an almost shy demeanor. But I could tell even then that he was just as enthusiastic about the band as the rest of them, maybe even more so, because his work on the drums could speak for itself. He didn’t need to say a word, instead having to simply beat out a rhythm that anyone’s primal self could enjoy and get lost in.
I didn’t understand at first how they all fit together, but Brad had already strapped on a guitar as well, after finding me a lawn chair to sit on in the chilly garage. They had a couple of space heaters working double time, and I figured that was what kept the space bearable, but it certainly wasn’t cozy. Brad was determined to keep a conversation going with me, even if the other guys were already drowning in their own little rock worlds. “Ethan and I both play guitar, and he does a lot of the lead vocals, but I sing some too.” He winked. “It’s good for me.” He leaned over, ready to spill one of his secrets. “Ethan’s voice is probably better than mine, but we both suck...at least when it comes to clean vocals. The good music makes up for it, though. We’re a great team on guitars.” Brad starting tuning his guitar as well, but instead of not paying attention to me, he faced me. Yeah, he was focusing on his guitar, but I could tell he wasn’t completely ignoring me either.
I looked over at Ethan. Yeah, right now, I didn’t exist to him. Only his guitar held any meaning in that moment. So I’d let Brad give me all the attention he wanted. He said, “We started out by doing mostly covers, but we’ve written four or five of our own songs. We’ve played small places, but I think once we have a big repertoire of music, we’ll feel better about booking bigger venues.” I nodded as though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
> But I also knew I could get away with a lot with this guy standing in front of me. I already sensed that, and I planned to test my theory. “So do you guys actually play, or do you just stand around talking about it?”
Brad raised his eyebrows, a playful look spreading over his face, and he said, “Oh…” until the oh turned into laughter. Then he turned to his bandmates and said, “I think we have an impatient wannabe fan. Shall we, gentlemen?”
Ethan had a serious look on his face, and he nodded his head at Nick. Nick slid his phone in his pocket without hesitation and then tapped his drumsticks over his head, counting out loud, and then they began. I listened intently to the music, trying to identify if I knew the song or not, and concluded that this one must be original.
And I sat back and enjoyed the show. They played a few covers of songs I knew (from Trivium, Marilyn Manson, and Judas Priest), but I focused on their original music. Brad was right…neither he nor Ethan had honed their singing skills enough (and Ethan’s voice probably was better than Brad’s), but I thought they had potential. They could sound great. Music-wise, though, they were already incredible. They had a unique sound, driving and hard, relentless, and I knew they needed to be heard by a lot more people than just little ol’ me in Brad’s mom’s garage.
What shocked me, though, was my personal response to their show. Ethan was totally into his performance. It was almost as though he was only physically present. His mind was in some big arena or hiding in the recesses of his mind, but he wasn’t there with us. Fortunately, his physical self knew what to do. But Brad…holy cow. There was something about him, and he ignited a spark between us that night. He had a stage presence, a charisma that I didn’t think Ethan would ever have. Brad was charming, cute, and sexy as hell. And, since I was the only audience member, I was treated full on to his stage persona. And that’s what I mean about Ethan not being there. It was like he didn’t even notice while Brad seduced me from a couple of yards away. I almost wished I was the mike he was cozying up to. At first I didn’t give it much thought as I got lost in his enticing eyes and he pulled me in. I let him. I was drawn to him and immersed myself first in his voice, and then I couldn’t get the image out of my head of him and me making out in the backseat of a car somewhere. It was like Brad was a vampire, and he was in glamour mode. I was the helpless victim, willingly drawn to my demise.
But when I realized what I was feeling, I swallowed the saliva pooled in my mouth and sat up straight. A shiver raced through my body, and I didn’t know if it was from the cold air or from Brad’s piercing gaze.
I managed to get hold of myself before anyone noticed…or so I thought. Brad did notice, but he didn’t say a word.
After they’d completed their set and set their instruments down, Ethan reemerged in the regular world. He looked at me and asked, “So, Val, what do you think?”
I was feeling more like my old self, and I wanted to tease my friend. “Well…” I acted like I was worried and afraid to speak, and then I continued. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but—” Ethan didn’t quite hang his head in disappointment, but I saw a shadow move over his eyes. The other guys didn’t seem too pleased either, but they were better able to hide their disappointment. Time to let them off the hook, especially as hard as Ethan seemed to be taking my supposed bad news. “You guys are—fucking fantastic!” I was smiling until I realized I’d dropped an F-bomb. My eyebrows bolted up my forehead, and I covered my hand with my mouth. I might have legally been an adult, but sometimes I felt like a kid, particularly when I did something like that.
I started laughing and so did the guys. Ethan was in front of me in a split second and picked me up in a hug, twirling me around. When he let me down, he said, “You little shit. You had me fooled there for a second.” He chuckled, but then I saw a glimmer of insecurity, something I’d never seen in Ethan before. “Are you serious, though? Do you really like our sound?”
I finally recovered from my slip-of-the-tongue moment. “Of course, I do. You guys will go so far if you keep playing like that. And you can play for me anytime.”
Brad let out a whoop, suddenly a nineteen-year-old young man again instead of the tempting guy he’d been just minutes earlier. “Good. I told my mom and dad someone would like our stuff. My dad asked what mom said and before I could even answer, he said it was a sound even a mother couldn’t love. Thanks for proving him wrong, Val.”
I smiled at him and then began to doubt that he’d even had that effect on me earlier. Zane played a bassline and then said, “We like it, and that’s all that counts.”
Brad said, “Hey, Valerie…” Something was up his sleeve, and I immediately grew nervous again. That furtive smile and the secret silent exchange now hung between us. I took a deep breath. There was no way I’d be able to be around this guy for too long…not if I wanted to remain faithful to Ethan. Yeah…like we were really in a relationship. “I saw you mouthing the words to all the covers. Would you like to sing one?”
I laughed and waved my hands in front of me. “No, that’s okay.”
“I’m serious. You could give our vocal cords a rest.”
“Besides,” Ethan said, now a conspirator, draping his arm around my shoulders, “you said you’d always fantasized about being on stage.”
I felt that warmth start crawling up my neck again. God…he’d actually remembered that? “Well, I don’t know.” I took a deep breath. “Both your voices are a lot better than mine.”
“No excuse, Val. Come on,” Brad said, teasing me with his eyes. In the short hour or two since I’d met Brad, I already felt as though I’d known him most of my life. So, naturally—and, perhaps, stupidly—I trusted him.
All the guys were pleading at me with their eyes. I sighed. “Okay.” Brad and Ethan high fived. “But only one song.”
“Of course.”
Zane asked, “What do you want us to play?”
Oh. That was a difficult question. I had been singing to metal since I’d turned thirteen, and I’d listened to everything from the classics to the most cutting-edge stuff out there. The problem was I had no idea who was actually in my range, which songs I really knew the words to…none of that. I’d lowered my eyes and was concentrating on the design painted on the bass drum, but I was going through a list of artists and favorite songs in my head. I couldn’t do any screaming vocals, and I knew I couldn’t go too high or too low. As I thought about it, I figured my range was pretty limited. The most singing I’d done outside of my bedroom, car, or the shower was probably in church singing low-key, depressing hymns that were definitely out of my range. Finally, I shrugged. “No idea.”
Brad squinted his eyes as though scrutinizing me. “How do you feel about Korn?”
“I like ‘em.”
He grinned. “Name anything you could sing off one of their first four CDs.” Ethan scowled at him. “What? I can play any one of ‘em.”
The look Ethan had been giving him turned into a glare. “I can’t.” He looked at me. “Know ‘Moon Baby’ by Godsmack?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you feel comfortable singing it?”
“I think so.”
“You know the words?”
“Yep.”
“You heard the woman.” Ethan positioned his guitar and started playing. Zane’s eyes widened and he darted back to get his bass, while Nick rushed back to his set of drums. Even I wasn’t ready. Brad slid the mike out of the stand and handed it to me. Then he propped his guitar against the wall and sat in the chair where I’d been just moments before.
Oh, shit. I’d just fueled some sort of testosterone contest, and Brad had lost. This was a one-guitar song. Brad had been suggesting songs that required two guitars. And I was stupid enough to have completely missed it.
But Brad acted like it didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the fact that he would get to watch me performing. God, I was nervous, but I was excited too. One thing I’d planned to do the day I turned twenty-on
e was go to a bar—not to get drunk, but to sing karaoke in front of a crowd. So today I got to perform for an audience of one.
I almost missed my cue but started singing at the right time, right about the point where Zane and Nick joined in. I had thought I would be embarrassed, but I wasn’t—not even a little. And I loved the emotions pouring through me and out through the words. I thought of both Brad and Ethan when I sang the song and tried to dismiss the little battle that I’d just witnessed, hoping that was a normal thing between them and not something potentially disastrous. But even those worries disappeared as I continued singing. My voice was more powerful than I’d thought, and after the first line of the song, I was in my element.
Maybe the stage was the place for me…but where the hell did that fit into college?
No, it was all fantasy, just like I’d said to Ethan not long ago. Maybe he could make it, and having seen them perform that night, I thought they all could, but not me. Yeah, I’d fantasized about being in a rock band, but only because I was such a hardcore fan. I had my chance right then and there in Brad’s garage for three minutes, and now it was time to return to reality and the fact that I needed to settle on an academic major, not decide to be a vocal major as this newfound fantasy urged me.
And when the vocals ended, I realized Ethan had been doubly selfish. I’d forgotten the long guitar solo at the end of the song, but I remembered as soon as I had to slide the mike back in the stand.
The solo was impressive, though, even when Ethan went “off script.” He was doing stuff in that solo that Godsmack would probably cringe hearing, but it was kind of cool. Definitely Ethan…mysterious, unwarranted but badass, in your face and ballsy. I moved to stand beside the chair and watch, and Brad smiled and patted his knee…inviting me to sit on his lap? Oh, no, I didn’t think so. He and I had already gotten a little too chummy in the few short hours I’d known him. If I sat on his knee, I knew all chances I had with Ethan would be lost forever.
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