I shook my head. "Not yet, why?"
"Because we're playing at Ramone's tonight. I was gonna tell you to come check us out. We're opening for The Miffs so there should be a good crowd."
I immediately started racking my brain to figure out how I could get into a bar. I would have to get a fake ID, which could possibly get me into even more trouble. I stared at his gorgeous green eyes—light green at the center with a thin dark green ring around the edge, and I said, "I didn't know The Miffs were playing! I hate to miss that. I could probably borrow a friend's license for the night if I decide to go."
"You know The Miffs?" he asked, looking impressed. Thank goodness I actually did. They were a popular local band and Gigi was into that sort of thing. She had turned me onto them last year.
I nodded. "I've never seen them live, though. That'd be cool."
He smiled and my heart felt like it wanted to melt. "It'd be cool if you could make it," he said. "My band's called Sweet East. We go on at 9."
Just then, a small group of volunteers came in through the front door. We both glanced that way. There were two guys and a girl. "Look who's relaxing on the job," one of the guys said.
Micah laughed. "I've been lifting seven hundred pound rocks all morning, chief. Looks like you haven't even broke a sweat."
"Oh, I'm sweating plenty. Your mom's a slave driver out there with those flowerbeds. How about I come over there and stick your pretty face in my armpits? Then you can tell me whether or not I've been sweating."
Micah laughed again. They were all about our age, and I could tell they were good friends by how they were messing around. Before I knew it, the whole rowdy group came into the kitchen. They were all talking at the same time and seemed very familiar with each other. I suddenly felt extremely out of place.
"I should get back to work," I said to Micah, as I turned to leave. "It was nice meeting you."
"Nice meeting you too, Carly."
I smiled. "Good luck with your show if I don't make it."
He lifted his chin at me with a smile. My comment set the rest of them off talking about the show that evening and how they all wanted to go. Thomas was still outside delivering the water to his dad, so I headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway by myself.
I stopped in the bathroom. The walls hadn't been painted, and the sink and tub fixtures still needed to be installed, but there was a mirror hanging over the sink. I locked the door and took a second to stare at myself. I breathed a long sigh, letting my shoulders slump. I'd been so nervous talking to Micah that it felt good to slouch for a second. I took the ponytail holder out of my hair and ran my hands through the tangled mess before putting it up again this time more neatly. I leaned in closer to the mirror to inspect my own eyes. They were hazel with touches of brown gold and green, but not nearly as striking as Micah's. He was so gorgeous and exotic looking that I seemed plain by comparison.
I stared at my reflection, wondering if someone like him could ever be attracted to someone like me. I felt embarrassed at the thought and wanted to splash water on my face, but couldn't since there was no faucet. I breathed another sigh as I headed back for the bedroom to look for my roller and grey paint. And there they were, right where I left them.
Joan was in her assumed position on the opposite wall from me. "Did you meet Micah?" she asked. I glanced back at her but she was still staring the other way painting.
"Yes ma'am," I said.
A few seconds passed, and I thought that was all she was going to say, but then she spoke again.
"He's not a baby, is he?"
I paused. "No ma'am," I said tentatively.
"He's handsome, isn't he?"
I glanced at the door to make sure no one was in the hall overhearing us. "I guess," I said in little more than a whisper.
I dipped the roller into the paint and picked up where I'd left off, making a long, grey stripe on the wall.
"They're a good family," she said.
I didn't know what to say to that, really. It seemed like she was just making conversation, but all I could think about was how I simply had to find a way into Ramone's that night.
"Yes ma'am, it seems that way," I said.
Joan didn't say any more. We painted for a few minutes in silence before she took another break leaving me in there alone. Thomas came in while she was gone. He was holding a purple t-shirt. It was one of the ones they had made for the volunteers. He insisted that I put it on right then, so I slipped it on over the one I was already wearing. It was purple with white lettering, and it had the words "Happy House" along with a child-like drawing of a house on the front. The back said "Volunteer Crew". Thomas was proud to say he'd been the one to come up with the name of the place, and the one who drew the t-shirt design. I told him I loved both.
He stayed in there for the next two hours talking to Joan and me while we painted. He told us about his fifteen year old sister, Emily, who would have been there helping today if she hadn't been away at cheerleading camp. After he told us all about Emily, he elaborated on Micah's musical endeavors, making me even more certain that I wanted to find a way to get into Ramone's to see for myself.
We talked the whole time we painted about things other than Jesus and the Bible, and he didn’t cry once. He was funny and sweet, and I found myself charmed by his simple, positive outlook. I would have never dreamed I'd have such a great time talking to someone like Thomas. To my own surprise, I truly liked him—I felt like I'd hang out with him even if I weren't being forced to do so by my parents.
Chapter 4
I painted the art room, and later that afternoon, I moved to one of the bathrooms, which was being painted a light shade of blue. I ate a late lunch sometime in between the two projects. I met several new people and had a few good conversations throughout the day, but mostly I just stayed in my own little world where all I had to do was get paint from the bucket, to the roller, to the wall.
I saw Micah several more times during the day, but he was always in the middle of working or talking to someone else.
There really had been a lot of work done that day. There were 20 to 30 volunteers, and all of us worked continually. It was almost 6pm when I left, and the place looked entirely different than it did when I arrived that morning. I was maybe even a little bit proud to say I'd been a part of it.
Mrs. Bennett gave me a ride back to her house just before 6, and we barely made it there in time. I'd only been in their house for two or three minutes (barely long enough to inspect a few family pictures that were hanging on the wall) when Mike pulled up in the driveway. I was worried that if he came inside he would mention why I was there, so I thought it'd be best to meet him in the driveway.
"There's my stepdad," I said to Mrs. Bennett who was in the kitchen. Thomas and Micah, along with their dad were still at the Happy House finishing up a few last minute things, so she and I were the only ones there. "I'm gonna run out there and meet him so he doesn’t have to get out of the truck," I called. "Thanks for having me!"
I could hear her footsteps as she came my way. I was standing by her front door when she made it in there, and she reached out to hug me. "Thank you so much for your hard work today, sweetheart," she said. "It warms my heart that so many young people came out to help."
I smiled, but couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt at her words. "I had fun," I said, honestly.
She smiled sweetly. "I'm so glad. And I know Thomas really loved having you there."
I opened the door quickly for fear that Mike would come inside. I caught him just in time. He'd already gotten out of the truck and was headed toward the front door. "Hey, you got one of my shirts!" he said with a huge smile on his face as I approached.
"Yep," I said, looking down at it. I wanted to stay mad him, but it had been a pretty good day and I just couldn't.
"How was it," he asked backing out of the driveway.
"They're actually a really neat family," I said.
He looked over the console at
me with a huge grin. I wasn't looking at him, but I could see him wearing the oversized smile out of the corner my eye. "I told you," he said. "I knew you'd see the beauty of doing something like that."
"It doesn't change the fact that I think it's unfair to be punished for what happened last night," I said, holding my ground.
"Well that's for your mom and I to decide, and we just want what's best for you."
I sat quietly for a minute or so, deciding whether not I should argue about what was best for me. "The Bennett's son is in a band and he's playing music tonight," I said instead. "They asked if I wanted to go."
Mike's head whipped around to look at me. "Really?" he asked, before looking back at the road.
"Yeah. It doesn't start till 9 o'clock, though. I'd probably be out till midnight or so."
Normally that wouldn't be a big deal, but I figured I needed to ease him into it since I was punished. "You and mom took away my car and my phone. You didn't say anything about me having to stay home." Mike was quiet for long enough that I said, "They're a great family."
He sighed. "I'll have to talk to your mom, but I don't see why you can't go see some music tonight. Where's he playing, at a restaurant or something?"
"I've never been to the place, actually. It's called Ramone's." It was my best attempt at not having to lie while still concealing the truth. I figured my mom and Mike wouldn't do the research on what Ramone's actually was.
"Don't get your hopes up, but I'll talk to your mom about it when we get home.
I was already rejoicing on the inside.
"And I don't think either of us want you going anywhere with Gigi," he added.
"That's really unfair," I said, knowing she was my best bet at securing a fake ID. (Plus she loved The Miffs and would never forgive me if I went without her.) "Neither of us knew what was going on last night."
I looked at him and he shook his head in that parental way. "You can ask your mom, but don't be surprised she says no."
I did my best work that night, and ended up getting permission to go to the show. My mom wasn't happy about letting me go with Gigi, but somehow I made it happen. I think she and Mike were both pleasantly surprised with the fact that I came home in a good mood, so they were inclined to bend a little. They also let me use my phone for the evening in case we got in trouble and needed to call them.
Gigi had just turned 18, so she could use her own ID. She had an older sister named Ashley who was willing to let me use hers for the night since she was just hanging out with her boyfriend.
Gigi came over to my house at 8pm to finish getting ready and help me study Ashley's driver's license. "What's your sign?" she asked.
"What?"
"Your sign," she said. "Like Aries or whatever. It's a way they'll trick you to see if you're using a fake ID. You have to know Ashley's sign."
"I don't even know my own sign," I said. "I think I might be a Pieces."
"Well Ashley's not. You can't say you're a Pieces if they ask you that. They'll know it's not you."
"Well what is she?"
"I think she's a Sagittarius," she said.
I sighed. I was already nervous enough with seeing Micah again, much less using a fake ID and adding all this memorization to the mix. I almost called the whole thing off, but Gigi assured me everything would be all right.
We got dressed up for the occasion. I was a little bit of a tomboy, and my wardrobe reflected that, but Gigi help me put an outfit together, and I felt as confident as I could when we were done. I had on jeans with lots of holes and a tank top with a plaid button-up shirt over it. Gigi's outfit was a little more girly and revealing, and I made her put a shirt over it just till she got passed my parents. I also asked her to use her manners while we were talking to them, and she did a good job. She even apologized for everything that happened the night before. Mom and Mike were all smiles when we left.
We got to the bar at 10 till nine and there was a line. There was a guy at the door taking money and checking IDs. He had two sets of wristbands, pink ones for those under twenty-one, and green ones for those who were over. I only had $22 to my name, so I was surprised when we got close to the table and realized the cover charge was $15 a piece. I watched the people who went before me, feeling relieved that the guy didn't seem to be doing a thorough job of checking ID's, though.
That didn't stop me from being anxious. I was giddy with nervous anticipation the whole time we were standing in line. I had told Gigi all about Micah and how hot he was before we got there. She tried to bring it up again while we were waiting, but I told her to be quiet in case someone was standing there who knew him. I spotted a poster hanging on the wall that was promoting the event. The majority of it was a picture of The Miffs, but Sweet East was pictured at the bottom, and you could clearly see Micah standing front and center. I whispered to Gigi, and she checked it out. Her jaw hung open as she stared at the poster and then at me.
I giggled. "I told you," I said.
"The other guys in the band don't look bad either," she said. She wasn't whispering, and I glanced behind us again to make sure no one was paying attention.
We made it through the door with no hassle whatsoever. The guy seemed more interested in getting our $15 then he was at looking at our driver's license. He barely even glanced at it when I handed it to him, and I was sad I had taken all that time memorizing Ashley's stats.
"Come on, Ashley," Gigi said with a huge smile, after we paid. I rolled my eyes at her as we linked arms to make our way through the crowded bar to try to find a spot.
There were tables and chairs spread out all over the perimeter of the dance floor, but all of them were taken. A good bit of the dance floor was occupied with people standing around in groups. Gigi and I decided to get a soda from the bar so we'd have something to hold onto.
There was loud music playing, but it wasn't coming from the stage. The band's instruments were set up, but the stage was totally deserted. We got our sodas and found our way to a spot on the side of the dance floor. I figured we'd move out to the middle once the band came out, but for the time being, it felt good to be against the wall.
She and I made small talk, but all I could concentrate on was trying to locate Micah Bennett. I had no luck with that. After several minutes of looking around the place I gave up and figured he was in the back somewhere.
It was 9:15 when someone came out onto the stage. It was a guy dressed in all black. Several people in the crowd yelled out when he used his hand to tap the microphone a few times to see if it was working.
"How's everybody doing tonight?" he asked, and a whole round of cheers followed.
Everyone who had been standing around the perimeter of the dance floor began making their way toward the stage, and Gigi and I followed.
"You guys stoked to see The Miffs?" he yelled.
He stuck his microphone out over the crowd to pick up our yells, but we didn't need it. Everyone clapped, screamed, and whistled so loudly it made me giggle and want to use my fingers to plug up my ears. Gigi and I looked at each other, laughing at all the ruckus.
"First we have a special treat for you guys! Straight out of Austin, Texas… let's hear it for Sweet East!"
The crowd erupted again, and he left the stage as Micah's four-piece band made their way out there. Micah found his place at the microphone and bent down to strap the guitar onto his shoulder. I started wiggling and jiggling from side to side with excitement. I didn't even realize I was pinching Gigi until she said, "Ouch!"
"I'm sorry," I said. "But isn't he the hottest thing you've ever seen?"
Gigi looked back at the stage and considered it seriously. She cocked her head to the side and really took a good look. "I think he is, actually," she said in all seriousness. That made me start giggling again.
With a pick in his hand, he grabbed the top of the microphone and adjusted it to his liking. He was smiling as he did it, and I could hear girls let out whoops and hollers randomly.
"I assum
e everybody's feeling good this fine Saturday night," he said, still smiling. Another round of cheers and whistles. "We're Sweet East, and this first song's called Way Down Low."
With that, he let go of the mic, and turned to nod at the band before making the first strum of the guitar.
I couldn't believe my ears. I instantly had a new favorite band. I loved the style of their music, and his voice. He had a perfect voice to match his perfect face. He was officially perfect. There was something about a guy who could sing, and singing was something Micah Bennett did well. He smiled as he performed, and he never ever missed a note. He moved around the stage, interacting with his band mates during the times he wasn't singing. I loved everything about his stage presence, and so did the rest of the crowd. Everyone's attention was focused on the stage as they danced and swayed to the music.
I don't know how many songs they played, maybe eight or so. I was too transfixed to count. I didn't want the set to end. I had absolutely no interest in seeing The Miffs. "Can you believe how good they were?" Gigi said, as they left the stage.
I shook my head, looking stunned, which cracked her up. "I had no idea what to expect," I said. "I can't believe they're opening for The Miffs in a place like this. They should be famous."
She shrugged and raised her eyebrows at me. "Maybe they will get famous," she said. "Then you can marry a rock star."
I was about to make a joke about being married to a famous guy when I saw something that turned my wonderful evening a terrible one. The members of Sweet East were exiting a door on the far side of the stage. I caught sight of them since no one else was standing over there. Micah was the first one out, and I smiled for a second thinking I'd finally have the chance to talk to him. But then, out of nowhere, a blonde girl ran up to him. I watched as she threw herself into his arms.
I had to swallow to keep my throat from closing up completely. I kept watching, hoping he would push her off like some sort of unwanted, pesky fan, but he didn't. He smiled and bent to kiss her. It wasn't just a quick peck on the lips; it was a real kiss—one that lasted long enough that the rest of his band walked around them, leaving him behind.
Finally My Forever Page 3
