Fallen Angel

by K. S. Thomas

  “I’m saying...yeah. That’s what I’m saying.” I’m tempted to get up out of the chair, just in case I feel like I need to bolt, but then I decide to stay put and enjoy the shelter the tall backrest is giving me. The thing is on wheels. I can always push off with my feet and roll out of here if need be.

  “How is that even possible? Even if you played every night for the two years we kept our gear there, you had to have done something else since then.” Royce doesn’t seem angry as much as he seems curious. Or, even concerned.

  “I have. After you guys up and left, I practically moved into the music room at school. It was slim pickings in there, but they did have a piano, which I loved. Then came high school and I earned extra credit by helping out the marching band. Plus, by then I could play the piano well enough to accompany the choir. Between the two, I was always surrounded by music one way or another, and, I hardly ever had to come home until after dinner.” I shrugged. “Music was the one simple thing in my life. From the very first moment I held those drumsticks, I knew it was the only thing that truly made sense to me.” I sigh and turn toward Ava. “Then you insisted I go to college and shit got all complicated again.”

  My sister dropped down onto the sofa across from me. “It didn’t have to be! Why didn’t you just study music, you dumbass?”

  Seriously? “I was going to! But then you came along, insisting you had my whole life all figured out and you made me go with a graphic design major.”

  “That’s because you always loved to draw! I thought it would be a great way to combine what you enjoy with something you could build an entire career on.”

  This time I do jump from my seat. “That’s Alex, Eda! I can barely draw a fucking stick figure!”

  Ava looks stumped. “Oh.” Then she shifts around uncomfortably. “Then why is he studying business management?”

  “Fuck if I know! Did you hijack his schedule too?”

  Ava’s not answering and we all know why. Except poor Brett, who’s fucking clueless at this point.

  “Purely for the sake of following the story, could someone fill me in on who Alex is?” I don’t know why he’s looking to Blaise for the answer, but he has it just the same.

  “Alex is their brother.” He’s grinning. Probably because he was present when Ava signed Alex up for business classes.

  “Gotcha.” Brett nods, taking a leisurely sip of his tea. “Okay, please continue.”

  I shrug. “I think that was pretty much it.”

  Ava gets to her feet and takes a tentative step toward me. “Well, do you want to go back and study music now?”

  “Why the hell would she want to do that?” It’s the first thing Angel has said since we marched in here and the whole retro walk of shame began.

  Ava glares at him. “Because. She’s barely twenty-one, and after everything she managed to learn by herself these last few years, just imagine how much she could accomplish if someone actually taught her shit.”

  I’m with Angel. I hated college. I have no plans to go back. Especially not after how I left things. “Eda. I just want to be a part of this world here. Interning with Brett is already the best opportunity I’ve ever been given.”

  “She’s right, Ava. The shit I know she’s never going to learn sitting in some class room.” He locks his eyes on mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brett so serious. “If you wanna make music, I can teach you. And not the bullshit we’ve been doing the last few days. I’ll find someone new to make my tea and shit. You’re ready for some hands on stuff. You’ve proved that today.” He turns back toward the rest of the group. “Speaking of. Let’s get that fucking song recorded. I’ve got a date tonight and I need to go home and wash my hair before I go.” He smirks and winks at me as he spins himself back around to the sound board. Only I’m pretty sure he wasn’t kidding about the hair thing.

  ***

  “Crazy day today, huh?” Derek’s laid out on my couch. Again. I don’t give a shit he’s staying with me, I’m just wondering how long he’s going to put off facing the stuff he’s avoiding by hiding out at my place and pretending it’s for my sake. The shit with Moe’s all sorted out now and I’m not saying I’m over it, but I’m definitely functioning. Which also means I need to wonder about how long I’m going to let Derek keep going like this. Enabling and turning a blind eye to fucking trouble isn’t how we do things in this family. Not after we almost lost one of our own because of it.

  “Yeah, man. Who knew Bam Bam had it in her?” I fall back into the leather cushions. I love this couch. And I’m pretty sure it’s for all the wrong reasons.

  “I don’t know, dude. I actually thought you didn’t look that surprised. You didn’t even flinch when she asked for your drumsticks. In the ten years we’ve been playing together, I’ve never once seen you hand them over to anyone.” He’s leaning his head back to face me. I hope he gets a crick in his neck.

  “It’s Bam Bam. I let her play when she was a kid, too. What’s the fucking difference?”

  Apparently, Derek’s not as fond of the crick in the neck idea as I am, because he sits up straight and faces me full on. “That’s exactly what I’d like to know. What’s the difference between Addison Jennison and every roadie who’s ever had to jump in on a sound check and got shut down by you?”

  I shrug and put my feet up on the coffee table. Then, just in case he’s still not getting how much I don’t want to talk about this, I point the remote at the TV and turn it on. “She’s family. That makes her different.”

  “Exactly.” His tone drops, like shit just got real and he’s about to give me a man to man or something. “Addison is Ava’s baby sister. Which makes her like our baby sister. So whatever is going through your penis motivated brain these days, needs to stop.”

  I hit the mute button. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Don’t. Just don’t, man. I saw you. From the moment you handed over those drumsticks, I saw it. And I kept watching, just to be sure. The look on your face when she finished playing. The way you scooped her into your arms after. Oh, and what the hell was your little outburst about her not going back to school? Huh?” He’s got a lot of fucking nerve getting all up in my business when he can’t even keep his own shit straight. But the man’s hurting and it’s not my style to knock a man down when he’s already on his fucking knees.

  “In case you missed it, I’m the one who first taught her how to play. Of course I’m going to be excited when I hear her and she fucking kills it. Wouldn’t you feel pretty damn good if some kid you showed a few chords on your guitar to once upon a time took that little bit of knowledge and learned to play the shit out that guitar? You would. Anyone would.” I’m making a solid argument, but I’m way too fired up to make my point. “And as for not wanting her to go back to school, you heard Brett. It was a bad idea. The girl wants to make music. And there’s nowhere better to learn that than in the studio.”

  Derek doesn’t say a damn thing after that. With anyone else it would mean a win, but with that asshole it only means I made his point for him and he’s satisfied already. Just to rub it in, he lays back down and stretches out again. “Hey, turn up the sound, would ya? They’re talking about last night’s game.”

  I toss him the remote and get up to leave. I’m fucked. I’m fucked because Derek is right. I should look at Bam Bam as my baby sister. But honestly, seeing her as anyone’s baby sister hasn’t been an option for me since we came back home for her and Alex’s graduation. I hadn’t seen her in five years. And she for damn sure was no little girl anymore. I’ve been reminding myself for the last three years anytime she’s crossed my path that she’s off limits. That’s she Ava’s sister, and that even though Ava loves me, she’ll never forgive me if I break her sister’s heart. And I would. How could I not? She’s young and sweet and innocent. And me? I’m me. And she deserves more. And I don’t know if I can give it to her. Which I already proved by sleeping with her and then letting her play it off like it was a pity fuck
when we both know for damn sure it was more than that. Much more.

  Chapter 12

  “Hey, Allie.” I don’t even have to check the caller I.D. I just know it’s him. It’s a twin thing. Plus, I had like five missed calls from him when I got out of the shower a few minutes ago. Just haven’t had a chance to get back to him, what with trying to get dried and dressed so I can possibly make it to work on time this morning.

  “Yo. What’s with Ava and all the emails I’m getting about Art Schools? I swear, I’ve got like two dozen of them already.”

  I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can use both hands to shimmy into my jeans.

  “Oh, that. Eda may have recently realized that you’re the one who’s been creating masterpieces since the finger pain era and not me.”

  He laughs. “What, like this came to her in a dream or something?”

  “Or something,” I mumble, my mouth full of cotton from my shirt. Getting dressed and talking on the phone are not compatible activities, and I’m all about multitasking. “Although it probably felt more like a nightmare when I outed her at the studio in front of everyone and she realized she got our lifelong ambitions swapped somewhere along the way.”

  “No shit, Addy. But that probably wasn’t hard to do, what with you never telling her about yours in the first place. This mean you’re finally doing something with your music?” He makes a loud slurping sound after he finishes and I’m instantly jealous because I know he has coffee and I don’t.

  “True. That one wasn’t her fault. And yes, I’m interning with the band’s producer. Dude, it’s been insane. I can’t even explain how much better this is than studying graphic arts.”

  I can hear him swallow. “Yeah, probably doesn’t hurt that you’re not involved in some sex scandal either.”

  “Eh.”

  “Addy?”

  I slip out of the heels I was going to wear and trade them out for flip flops. It’s LA. and Brett’s a fucking hippie in Birkenstock sandals, why deprive my toes of their freedom if I don’t have to?

  “I’m not involved in a sex scandal...I mean...there was sex...and I suppose there’s potential for scandal if it ever gets out, but honestly, I don’t see that happening.”

  He sighs a big brother sigh. Something I don’t really feel those extra eight minutes earned him, but whatever. “You slept with Angel?”

  “No.” I shake my head for added emphasis, even though he can’t see it. “There was no sleeping. None whatsoever.”

  “You’re a mess, dude. And Ava’s going to flip her shit when she finds out.”

  “Which she won’t. And definitely not from you!”

  I can hear him swear under his breath, something only the boys in our family do, the girls just come right out with it. “Fine. Whatever. How do I get Ava to stop sending me Art School submissions?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m guessing you could start by telling her you switched majors like two seconds after she walked off campus.”

  “You didn’t tell her?”

  I grin. “And rob you of that moment? No way. The times in our lives where we can openly blame Ava for screwing up are limited. We need to cherish them, Allie.”

  “You’re nuts. But you have a point. I’ll call her as soon as we hang up.”

  I reach for the door handle ready to head downstairs and get this day going. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.” I seriously doubt she’s up yet. “On second thought, yeah, call her.” I owe her one.

  “Before I go...anything else I should know about? Even if I don’t want to?”

  “Like am I going to bear Angel’s secret love child?”

  He almost chokes on his coffee. “Yeah, like that.”

  I laugh. “Nope. We’re good.”

  “Thank God.” He chuckles quietly and for a second I miss him so much I could cry. I know it’ll pass. It always does. “Later, Addy.”

  We’ve barely hung up when I hear Ava’s ringtone playing all the way out in the hall and I hurry my ass up and out of there before she has a chance to come after me.

  It’s been two weeks since the big revelation at the studio and life is so drastically different I can barely compute everything that’s happening anymore. Not only did Brett finally agree to listen to the Nina Nu demo I brought him, but he freaking loved it. Not that I had expected any less.

  Meanwhile, and more importantly, Nina Nu’s been in the studio every morning with me and Brett. Of course, by morning I mean the hours between five am and ten. The hours Finding Nolan deems as night. And frankly, so do I. But it’s been so worth it.

  “Yo, Little B.” That’s what Brett calls me now. Little B...as in, little Brett. Apparently, in spite of the whole gender issue, he sees a young version of himself when he looks at me. “Come here for a sec and sit down.” He’s pointing at the seat in front of him.

  Following orders is my M.O. now, so I drop my coffee and half eaten bagel on the side table and walk over to him where I slide down into the chair.

  “Alright, don’t move. I don’t want to yank at your hair.” He’s already got a handful of it and is pulling it back away from my face.

  “Wait. What are you doing?” I’m not one of those people who spends a great deal of time on her hair and freaks out if anyone touches it, but I did put forth the effort of blow drying it today, so I know it’s in halfway decent shape and shouldn’t require an intervention.

  “You’ll see in a sec. I’m almost done.” I can feel him twisting my hair for another moment longer. “There. Check it out.” He spins me around toward the mirror. It’s too high up on the wall though, so I still have to get up.

  “It’s a messy bun.” I feel like an idiot stating this obvious fact, but I also feel like I’m seriously missing something.

  “I know.” Brett comes up beside me. He turns his head to the side revealing his own messy man-bun. “Now we match.” He’s grinning from ear to ear like it’s the coolest thing ever. Like my whole life’s ambition is to grow up and literally be him someday.

  “Sweet. All that’s left is for me to start growing out a beard.” Judging by his expression, I just took things too far. “Or not. Obviously not. I mean, Little B is clearly not ready for the beard.”

  “I’m going a little nuts here, huh?” He looks so genuinely disappointed I can’t bear to tell him.

  “Noooo, not at all. Besides, I love being Little B.” That part actually is true.

  Relieved, his smile returns. “Good, cuz I kinda love having a Little B. You’re like the closest I’m ever going to come to reproducing, so you know, I may try to mold you more than necessary, but on the upside, you’re likely to be the only one listed in my will when all is said and done.”

  I shove him in the arm playfully. “You’re nuts.” Of course, then I take a second to think about it. “But just in case you’re for real, do me a solid and hang onto that 1955 Porsche 550 Spider until you kick it.”

  Brett’s face falls like I’ve just changed his entire world. “And an appreciation for classic cars? You’re killing me, Little B. It’s like we’re soul mates or something.”

  And because life is on my side these days, Angel walks in at precisely that moment. “What now? Brett has a soul mate?” He’s trying to sound like he’s joking, but I can tell he’s super annoyed. I love it.

  “It’s me. He thinks we’re made for each other.” Don’t ask me where I found this new set of balls I’m using. I have no freaking clue. The only set I’m aware of is sitting firmly on my chest and they have never been all that impressive.

  Angel makes a face. “Talk about robbing the cradle, dude.”

  Brett just laughs. Mostly because this whole conversation is ridiculous. “Relax, man. Two seconds before you walked in I was calling her my adopted daughter. I’m clearly aware of the age difference.” He turns his attention to the board even while he keeps talking. “Meanwhile, are you aware of the time? You boys aren’t on my schedule for another several hours.”

  Angel
moves toward the couch and drops down into it. “Yeah, I know. I’m headed to the gym, but I figured you guys were here working so I thought I’d stop by and see how things are going. You know, since I never see you any other way anymore.” He’s staring directly at me, big brown eyes and insanely long lashes just searing into my flesh. And damn it all to hell, I start to blush again.

  “What, like you’ve been missing me or something?” I have to avert my gaze completely because my balls are now as flat as my boobs again.

  “Actually, yeah. I was really hoping you could show me a couple of your moves on my drums again.”

  Over to my right, Brett snorts loudly, because even he knows it’s bullshit.

  “Oh, totally. Yeah, Angel Hollis wants drum lessons from me. I absolutely buy that.” I’m nodding repeatedly, but I’m quite sure my sarcastic tone overrides everything else.

  “Buy it, don’t buy it, but while we’re talking about buying things, why don’t you let me buy you dinner?”

  I did not see that coming. “What? Like, just the two of us?” That came out all wrong. I mean, the words were good, if I hadn’t said them as if I was afraid I might catch leprosy at dinner.

  “Yeah, like, just the two of us.” He sits up and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Look, it’s not a big deal, I just want to take you out to celebrate. I mean, I was there when it all started. I handed you your first set of drumsticks. It just feels like we should acknowledge the moment. How far you’ve come. You know? Plus, after the way our last meal ended, I feel like I kind of owe you another one.”

  Holy shit. Is he rambling? He’s totally rambling. Am I making Angel Hollis nervous? Not possible. Maybe possible. Totally probable. Fuck it all. Now I’m rambling too. At least it’s internal and no one can hear me. Although, I have been silent for an awkwardly long time again.

  “Okay.” I practically shout it when I finally come out of the Angel induced trance.