Still…my mind couldn’t help but soar just a little bit.
And then the questions flooded through my mind, and my brain told me all the reasons why I couldn’t. Why I shouldn’t. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have the talent. I wasn’t pretty enough. I didn’t deserve it. My voice sucked.
Shut up!
I forced the logical and rude part of my brain to quiet itself and just let the excited part take over. I wanted to indulge it just a bit. “So…what would I do? Just sing?”
“Yeah…sing.”
“But then what would you and Brad do?”
Ethan shrugged and acted like that was the silliest question he’d ever heard. “We could sing on occasion and even do a duet or two, but we could focus more on honing our guitar skills. I mean…we’re good, but we wanna be great. And we need a frontman—er, woman—who can really interact with the crowd. That’s harder to do when you have a guitar strapped to you. We need someone to stir them up, make them energetic, and I know you could do that.”
Brad said, “And face it, Val. We can’t hold a candle to your voice. The crowds ate it up both nights. They really like you.”
“Yeah, but what if that’s only because it’s something different?”
“Would you stop that already?” Ethan was tapping his finger on the table. “Give us a good reason why you can’t.”
I let out a breath. “Oh…I can give you more than one.”
Zane asked, “Like what?”
“My job.”
Ethan asked, “You have a job?”
“What? Like that’s so unexpected? Yeah…I babysit two girls Monday through Friday from now through the first week of August.”
“So? Give ‘em your two-week notice.”
“I can’t do that. It was a difficult decision for them as it was.” The waitress brought my water by and set it in front of me. “Besides…that’s the easy problem.”
Ethan was still ready to challenge anything I had to say…and I was surprised by that. “So tell us.”
“I don’t think my parents will let me.”
“Fuck your parents. You’re a grown woman.”
I felt my eyebrows jump up my forehead. That was easy for him to say. He’d been raised by a lenient mother who didn’t seem quite sure how to handle him and had probably never told him no. Brad offered gentler advice. “You could ask.” For the first time that day, I saw hope in his eyes…and an acknowledgement of what had happened between us the night before. Yeah…if my parents were smart, they’d say no without any discussion. Brad and me alone together for five minutes equaled danger for my virginity.
“Okay. So let’s say for some strange reason my parents have been replaced by pod people and say yes. Then what? I already told you I’m not going to ditch my job, and I’m sure you’d need to practice with me, and I doubt all your shows are Saturdays only, and—”
“Whoa, Val,” Brad said and reached across the table to grab my hands, probably so I’d stop flailing them and making him nervous. “Why don’t you ask your parents? If they say yes and you want to do it, then we can figure out the rest. One step at a time.”
I let go of the protest that had been forming in my lungs. Yeah, that made sense. I nodded as the waitress brought the pizzas to the table. Yeah…first things first.
Chapter Seventeen
HOLY SHIT. THIS was exciting stuff. I stayed for the meal but didn’t eat, and the guys started talking about the shows they had lined up for the summer, already acting like I was going to be joining them. They had some in the big cities—another two dates for Colorado Springs, several dates for the Denver Metro area, and even a show in Pueblo—but they had a few in smaller towns too. They were going to be busy, and that told me Brad had been a booking machine. He even had presale tickets for some of the shows that he hyped at work and on their Facebook page.
Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten Brad worked too, and surely he’d had that in mind when he’d put the schedule together. Unless, of course, his rock star passion had taken over…which wouldn’t have surprised me. I was already acting giddy and hopeless, forgetting I had to clear the idea with my parents.
So I told them I wanted to talk to my parents about it alone. I don’t know that their presence would have hurt, necessarily, but I didn’t think it would have helped. For starters, I had Brad to contend with, and between his hair that was to his shoulders and the half-sleeve tattoo started on his arm, dad wouldn’t care for that and would have serious reservations about the kind of boys I would be hanging with. And if Brad got that look in his eye like he did for just that moment at lunch, the one where I knew he could remember what I felt like under my shirt while grinding into him…well, then, my dad would say no on principle. Ethan and Zane weren’t much better. In fact, Nick would probably be the only one of the bunch that my dad would look at and think was a “nice kid.” But Nick probably wouldn’t say a word…and silence wouldn’t help either.
So, yeah…I had to do it alone, and I chose to do it over dinner. I promised Brad I would text him later and let him know, but I told them all not to get their hopes up. Too late, though, because I already had. Those two nights onstage had fueled my inner desires that I hadn’t even known existed, had awakened a dream that likely could have stayed dormant my entire adult life. Never mind any money I was expected to make. The guys said they’d do a five-way split after expenses. But I didn’t imagine that would add up to much, even though Brad had said they were starting to make money on merchandise too.
That night at dinner, mom asked how my afternoon had gone, which provided me the perfect opportunity to bring up what I needed to ask them. “About that…um…I told you I sang a song each night at the concerts, didn’t I?”
Mom looked surprised, and dad actually smiled. Danny was unimpressed, not that I’d expected him to be. Mom said, “That sounds like fun.”
“Was it a real song or was it some of that music you listen to?” Dad had never made his displeasure with metal unknown to me or anyone else within earshot if he happened to hear it.
I needed to win him over, though, so now was not the time to argue the merits of metal. It might come to that, but, for now, I just had to patiently present them with the proposal. “Well, I’ve been writing some lyrics for their band, and it happened to be a song I co-wrote, so it was a lot of fun. And, to answer your question, dad, yes. It was metal.”
He smirked as if to say, “Yep. Figured as much.” But he didn’t say a word, instead kept eating his dinner.
Time to bite the bullet. “Anyway…they wanted to ask me if I could sing in their band full-time.”
Mom smiled, but dad put down the bite he was getting ready to put in his mouth. “What would that entail?”
“Well, I have no details as yet, but they’re touring all over Colorado this summer. I already told them I have a job through the first week of August, and I don’t want to mess that up, but they said we could work around that.”
Mom joined in. “So what would be involved?”
“It would probably be weekends, overnight in several places.”
“How many girls are in this band?”
Oh, here was the hard part. I swallowed. “I would be the only one.”
“And you’d be overnight in other places with strange young men.”
“They’re not so strange, dad, but you’re right.” No sense lying about it. But I started thinking, Wait a second. I am an adult now. I was at college all by myself for a year…and it involved lots of overnights.
Mom said, “It’s not a good idea. But tell us more. Would you all be sharing a room or sleeping in a vehicle? What kind of arrangements will be made?”
“I’m not sure. We didn’t get that far in talking. I knew I’d need to run it past you guys first. When they performed their shows in the Springs and here, they stayed in a motel overnight. I could get my own room. That wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Do you have that much money, Valerie?”
“I’d be making m
oney on the road.”
Mom let out a deep breath. “Sweetheart, it’s just not a good idea. Being with four teenage boys constantly—”
“Your mother is right. Not a good idea.”
“But dad—”
“No.” His voice was firm.
But I wasn’t about to give up. Not yet. I had one more thing I wanted to say. “Look…I was away at college for a long time. I was surrounded by teenage boys and even guys older than that. The thing is at some point you have to trust me. I didn’t get into trouble in college, and I wouldn’t while touring with these guys either.” Never mind what had happened last night. Over all, I had a solid track record. “I’m a good girl.”
My dad didn’t say another word, which meant his mind on the matter was made up. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and I kept it together, but all I wanted to do was cry. Finally, I’d found something in my life that had set me on fire, and my parents were forbidding it. But as I sat there pushing the peas and carrots around my plate, I decided I’d let them sleep on it. Then, tomorrow, I’d tell them that I was an adult, and I had made up my mind. How could they stop me?
So, after dinner, Danny and I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, and then I went to my room, feeling disheartened, even with my plan in place. I tried not to give up hope yet, because just hours earlier I’d been thinking how much fun my summer would have been—singing, performing onstage, dressing up, rocking out, not just banging my head but leading a crowd of headbangers. Please don’t let it be just a dream, just a hope, a penny cast into the wishing well, never to be found again.
I decided my mood needed a little Three Days Grace, so I played some on my laptop and just started writing poetry, as I often did when something bothered me. I wasn’t going to text Brad, not yet, not until I’d given my parents the ultimatum.
There was a knock on the door later, and when I said, “Come in,” both my mother and father entered my room. I was lying on my bed. My mom sat on the edge, and my dad sat on the chair at my desk. I could tell something was bothering him. “Valerie, you’re right. You’re an adult now, and you spent the last year in college without anyone there telling you what to do. You got good grades. You stayed out of trouble. We need to trust you. We have to allow you to make decisions, and sometimes that means you’ll make a mistake or two along the way. But you won’t learn if we don’t give you the space to try. So…your mother and I have discussed it, and the decision is yours. We can’t financially support this endeavor, but we will support whatever decision you make. We love you.”
Mom nodded in agreement.
“Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad.” I hugged them both. I wanted to tell them they wouldn’t regret it, but I figured I shouldn’t push my luck…or make any promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.
* * *
Late that night, I was in bed and texted Brad. If u guys r serious, I’ll b ur singer! He didn’t text back.
Instead, he called. “Fuck, yeah! I’m glad you agreed, Val. I’ll email you the show dates tomorrow morning, and you can let me know how that fits in your schedule. Then I’ll email you all the songs we’ve recorded so you can learn them. I can do a couple rough cuts of the newer ones that we haven’t recorded.”
“Shouldn’t we practice together?”
“Yeah, but…look over the schedule first, and then maybe we can figure out some times.” When I agreed, he said, “Seriously…glad you decided to do this.”
“Me, too.”
I hardly slept a wink that night. All I did was imagine myself in Fully Automatic. I pictured myself onstage, engaging the audience, pulling them in. What would I wear? How would I do my hair? My makeup? I knew from what little high school theater I’d done that I should wear my makeup heavier and darker, but how would I know when I’d gotten it right?
In spite of all the worries, I slept well once I drifted off, but I had to get up early to watch the girls. Brad texted me midday to ask if I’d gotten the emails he sent. I told him it would have to wait until I got home, because I was at work.
He must have been up half the night, because I knew he’d had to work too. He emailed me every piece of music they’d recorded with a promise of more on the way so I could start learning the songs. He also emailed documents of the lyrics. Then he put together a list of shows. As I glanced, I was glad to see that most of them were weekend gigs, but there was one on a Thursday night at some place in Denver. Brad must have made arrangements with his job already for that one. I guessed that would be one they could do without me, and I emailed him back to say that.
I also noticed that the schedule went through October. Surely, though, they knew I would be back in school that last week of August. But, I supposed, it wouldn’t hurt to remind him about that either.
So I did send an email about both those concerns but told him I thought the rest were fine. They had quite a few Friday dates, but they were all nearby…Colorado Springs and the Denver Metro area mostly, so I would be pushing it, but it was doable. I told Brad all of that in the email.
I started toting my laptop with me to work. I didn’t hook up to my employers’ wireless, but I did use my computer to listen to songs. I’d get one looping in my head enough that my subconscious could start to work on it. By the end of the week, I was already feeling better about the songs. I had a week to go before my first show.
That weekend, on my first paycheck, I paid my mom back what I owed her and then went shopping. I went to consignment shops and secondhand stores, looking for vintage clothing, Goth-type outfits, leather, lace, and anything I thought I could convert into cool stage clothes. I also assessed what I already had. I had a lot of things I could use—some leather already, jeans, concert t-shirts. After shopping, I felt like I had enough different outfits for the summer so I wouldn’t get bored.
My mind toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo, but I knew my parents would flip out. Maybe I could sneak in a piercing somewhere, though, and I decided to think on that for a while.
One last thing, and I texted Brad about it. Would they pick me up before all concerts, even though Winchester was totally out of the way? Did I need to invest in a vehicle?
I stressed at first but then reminded myself how much I wanted to do this. Besides, I could use a car anyway. Our first show was somewhere in Denver, and it was next Saturday, so I wasn’t worried about catching a ride. It was another thing we’d have to discuss later on, though.
Brad called me that weekend. “Are you as worried as your emails sound?”
I started laughing. “No. Actually, I’m really starting to get into this. Who’s your tattoo artist?”
“Seriously?”
I laughed again. “I wish. No…my parents would kill me.”
He lowered his voice. “If you got one on your ass, they’d never know.”
“Yeah…right.”
“So…the Thursday night show in July. It’s not till eight that night, and I could maybe make sure we’re one of the later bands. What time do you get off work?”
“It depends…but usually between four and six. I could let them know what’s happening to see if they could let me go earlier that day.”
“It doesn’t take long to set up. How long from Winchester to Denver?”
“If you’re not driving through rush hour, two and a half to three hours. Downtown?”
“Not sure. Not a problem, though, because if you got done at work by five and it took three hours and we played a little later, we’d be okay. Pushing it and not able to set up a merch table, but it would be doable.”
“You know what would be easier? You guys just do that show without me.”
“Fuck no, Val. If you’re part of the band now, you’re part of the band. If you can’t make it, we don’t do the show.”
“But no pressure.”
I could hear him chuckling. “The other dates work, though?”
“Yep.”
“How are you feeling about the songs?” I started singing one of the
ones Brad had written before I’d even met him, one he’d called “Take You Down.” I’d been working on kind of a growl, which I knew had been done much better by Brad, but some of the words warranted it. So I sang a few lines just so he knew I’d been working my ass off. “Nice.”
“Thanks. So…I’m learning the songs, but I’d feel a lot better rehearsing with you guys a little before we play our first show. Could we maybe Skype some night next week?”
“What are you doing Friday?”
I put a duh quality in my voice to tease him. “Working.”
He matched my tone. “After that…”
“Nothing.”
“So why can’t we do a rehearsal Friday night? Maybe even Saturday?”
“Where?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Good question. My garage is always free. Would you be able to drive here?”
That was the problem. “I don’t know. My parents might not have a car they’d want me to borrow for that long a trip. I’m hoping to save enough for a car this summer, but until then…”
“You’re off work around five?”
“Ish…”
“Five-ish. Nice. Maybe I could pick you up and bring you back here. It might be kinda late. We might not feel like rehearsing that night, but maybe Saturday late morning, early afternoon, before we hit the road to go to Denver. Would that work for you?”
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