Amplified

by Tara Kelly

  C-Side had been in the studio for twenty minutes now. Watching Zoe’s video. Debating. Possibly laughing at my lack of dance moves.

  “So I’m curious,” Dave began.

  “Good for you.”

  “Why do you want to play for C-Side?”

  I stopped pacing and folded my arms. “Why not?”

  He raised his pale eyebrows. “Are you even into their music?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

  “I think you’re in the wrong place.”

  “Why—because I forgot my tanker boots and eye glitter?”

  “Because you come off like a band geek doing her first talent show.” He motioned toward the studio. “Their words, not mine.”

  I moved in front of the TV, blocking his view. “You mean Sean’s words?”

  “That’s the bassist, right? He wasn’t the one who said it.”

  My back stiffened. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not working.”

  “Have you ever played a live show? Honestly?”

  My heart pounded a little harder. Was my lack of stage experience that obvious?

  A smile tugged at his lips when I didn’t answer. “Because I’ve played at Slim’s and the DNA Lounge in San Francisco. The Catalyst here. They need someone who knows how to work an audience.”

  Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to see Sean standing in the kitchen entranceway. “Dave,” he said. “They want to talk to you in the studio.”

  Dave turned the TV off and hopped out of the recliner. “You get to do the dirty work, huh?”

  Sean shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Guess you’ll find out.”

  Dave rolled his eyes and made his way out of the room. I waited for the door to shut behind him before meeting Sean’s gaze. Couldn’t Veta have broken the bad news to me? Sending her brother was messed up.

  Sean plopped onto their mustard-yellow couch and motioned to the space next to him. “You want to sit?”

  “I’m fine where I am, thanks.”

  He sat forward, studying my face. “I’m not going to bite.”

  “Just say what you came here to say.” I closed my eyes. “Please.”

  “Have you played live before?”

  I looked down at the turquoise carpet. “Eavesdropping is creepy.”

  He exhaled a soft laugh. “I was standing there in plain view.”

  “Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so I need to know…”

  “Right.” He checked his watch. “The dinner rush is almost over. Prime time for Dumpster diving.”

  I ran my hands through my unwashed hair, wondering if it looked as bad as it felt.

  “You were like a deer in headlights in the video,” he continued. “That’s not going to fly at a show.”

  “Video cameras weird me out.”

  “As opposed to hundreds of people watching you?”

  My mind grasped for an answer. Any answer. “I can handle it.”

  “Let’s hope so. Because Veta and Felix think you can pull it off. And, lucky for you, Dave’s a tool. So you’re in.”

  I sucked in my breath. “In the band in?”

  He squinted at me like I was the biggest dope. “Uh, yeah.”

  Happy chills swept across my skin. I wanted to jump up and down and scream like some fan girl. But I managed to contain myself, sort of. “Thank you! I mean, not you—them. I know this wasn’t your choice—”

  “You can save the acceptance speech.” He stood up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Look, you played well tonight. You’ve got a distinctive style—I can see why my sister is all amped up over you.”

  “But?”

  “You better be ready to ‘handle it,’ as you say. Now is a real good time to come clean if you have any doubts.”

  I hugged myself tighter, aching to admit the truth. That I was terrified, but I was determined to make this work. At least then I’d be free of this knot in my stomach.

  “Music is my life,” I said. “Walking away isn’t an option.”

  “Wanting to make music and being able to hack it in a band are two different things.”

  I hated the all-knowing glint in his eyes. Showing weakness would never earn me respect. Not from him. “Can I go back to the studio now?”

  “Go ahead.”

  I walked past him, keeping my eyes forward. Sean could discourage me all he wanted. He wasn’t getting rid of me that easily.

  Veta stood outside, smoking a cigarette and talking to Felix. Dave carried his amp out of the studio, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second. Wow, he practically snarled. Where was a camera when I needed one?

  “There’s our new guitarist.” Felix gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  “Hey, girl!” Veta snatched me up in a hug, burying my face in her strawberry-scented hair. “Sean told you, right?”

  I pulled back, squirming out of her embrace. “Yeah, but I would rather have heard it from you.”

  “And miss out on bursting Dave’s bubble? No way.” She glanced back at the house. “Besides, I want you and Sean to get to know each other better. He played nice, didn’t he?”

  “If condescending is nice for him, sure.”

  She sighed, giving Felix a knowing look. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “No—don’t,” I said. “I’m fine. Like you said—he’s having a tough time.” Sitting on an ice cube sounded cozier than another forced one-on-one with Sean.

  “Thanks for coming out, man.” Bryn stood in the studio doorway, handing Dave his guitar cord. The last of his equipment, I hoped.

  Dave draped the cord over his shoulder. “Sure.” He shot me another dirty look and turned back to Bryn. “Hope that works out for you.”

  That? I was a that now?

  “Better luck next time,” I said as he walked away.

  Dave flipped me off before fading into the darkness of the driveway.

  “Loser!” a girl’s voice called behind me.

  I turned to see Zoe sitting on the lawn, sneering in Dave’s direction. A flashlight and a gigantic book sat on her lap. If I were into hugs, I totally would’ve hugged her at that moment.

  Felix put his hand on my arm. “That guy needs anger-management lessons.”

  “I know,” Veta said. “And I wasn’t even harsh when I broke it to him. I was just, like, sorry, but we think Jasmine is a better fit, yada yada—”

  “He turned bright red!” Felix jumped in.

  Bryn approached us, quirking an eyebrow. “When you ladies are done, I need to talk to Jasmine inside.” He gave me a light slap on the back. “Good job tonight.”

  “I’m not in trouble already, am I?” I asked after Bryn went inside.

  “No.” Felix laughed. “Unless you don’t have the rent.”

  God, I hope he didn’t want a huge deposit. Trying to hold Sean off with the car was going to be hard enough.

  “So, anyway,” Veta continued, “Dave basically told us we were idiots and then he was, like—”

  “I’ve got another offer anyway.” Felix deepened his voice and flared his nostrils to mock Dave.

  Veta yanked on one of his pigtails. “Let me finish the story.”

  “Why?” Felix poked her. “You rarely let anyone finish a sentence.”

  She waved her fist at him in response. “You wanna go? I’ll take you down like the teddy bear you are.”

  I laughed and shook my head. These two made it easy to forget my problems. “So then what happened?”

  “Bryn asked what band offered him a spot,” Veta continued. “And Dave said Newton’s Whore, Amy Castellano’s band—which we didn’t even know existed.”

  “Sean’s ex, Amy?” I asked. “I didn’t know she was a musician.”

  Veta nodded. “She plays bass and thinks she can sing. But really, all she can do is screech and look pissed off.”

  Felix made a claw with his hand. “Mrowr.”

  “Well, it’s true,” she responded.

&n
bsp; “Newton’s Whore—isn’t that a little degrading?” I asked.

  Veta shrugged. “That’s Amy. She’s a physics major and has this twisted obsession with Isaac Newton. I’m sure she thinks it’s cute. But get this—Teddy is going to be her drummer.”

  “I thought he was your last guitarist,” I said.

  “He plays drums too,” she said.

  I jammed my hands into my pockets. “Are you going to tell Sean?”

  Felix and Veta exchanged a glance. “Yeah, we need to. Dave mentioned they were trying to get a gig at the Roach,” Veta said.

  “I’ll do it,” Zoe said, a persnickety grin on her face.

  Veta narrowed her eyes at her little sister. “Better not.” She shifted her gaze to me. “Zoe isn’t into icky love stuff yet. She doesn’t get heartbreak.”

  “Dating is stupid,” Zoe said. “All people do is kiss and fight.”

  Veta smirked. “I bet you wouldn’t feel that way if Nick Slater asked you out.”

  “Gross.” Zoe lifted her book closer to her face.

  “Who’s that?” I whispered.

  “Bryn’s little brother,” Felix answered. “Zoe has a huge crush on him.”

  “Do not.”

  “I should get her home,” Veta said, ruffling my hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Nine o’clock sharp.”

  “I’ll be there.” Long, hot shower and change of clothes, here I come. After I talked to Bryn of course. Fun.

  After what felt like the best shower of my life, I went out on my balcony and took in the salty breeze. Sea lions argued against the white noise of the ocean, and muffled music could be heard from the cars parked along the cliffs. Pure heaven, minus a bed and $845.

  Bryn wasn’t too keen on letting me wait until July 1 to give him July’s rent. Nope. He wanted the rest of June and next month’s rent up front. That left me $45 short of what I owed for my car and no money for food or bills. In other words, I was screwed. At least he’d been generous enough to scrounge up a sleeping bag and pillow.

  I pulled my hoodie tighter and focused on the moon sliver hovering over the water. It seemed so placid and sure of itself, even with shadows hiding most of its glory. The moon always made me a little hungry too, but I had my dad to thank for that. He’d told me it was made out of Swiss cheese when I was five. Best cheese in the universe, he’d said. I’d actually believed him. Just like I bought everything he said the year after Mom left.

  Tears won’t bring her back. They’ll only slow you down.

  I hadn’t been able to cry since. Even after I’d made Jason pinch my arm until it bled in the second grade. I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t cry like other kids because I was immune to pain. I wasn’t.

  I pulled my cell from my pocket, checking for missed calls. None. Dad used to bombard my phone if I stayed at Jason’s past eleven. Now that I was gone, I could be lying in a ditch somewhere, for all he knew. Did he even care where I was? Part of me wanted to know, had to know. The other part knew I’d just be disappointed.

  I highlighted Dad’s name and hit SEND anyway.

  “Hello?” he answered on the second ring, sounding gravelly. Tired. “Jasmine?”

  “Dad.” The word came out in barely a whisper.

  “How are you?”

  “How do you think?”

  “Hang on. Which way?” A woman spoke in the background, telling him to take a left. It sounded like Tammy, his latest girlfriend. Or maybe “dinner date” would be the more accurate term.

  “I guess you’re driving,” I said.

  “We’re on our way back from…” His voice broke up, muffling his explanation. “…on 84 right now. The reception isn’t good. Can I call …tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” I mumbled bye and flipped my phone shut, letting out a shaky breath. What did I expect? He was Dad, the man with the winning poker face.

  I’d just set the alarm on my cell and nuzzled into the red sleeping bag when I heard the noise. At first I thought it was the naughty channel on someone’s TV—prayed it was someone’s TV. But the vibrating wall told me otherwise. And then there was the giggling and the occasional grunt. A female voice calling out Bryn’s name completely sealed the deal for me.

  Disgusted and wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into, I got up and planned to watch TV downstairs until the escapade ended.

  When I opened my door, my eyes met Sean’s. He was coming out of the bathroom, looking annoyingly cute with disheveled hair and blue-plaid pajama bottoms. I looked away when I realized the ensemble didn’t include a shirt.

  “I didn’t know you were still up,” he said, sounding almost apologetic.

  “Well, I can’t really sleep, because, um…” I nodded at Bryn’s bedroom.

  He chuckled. “Get used to it.”

  I figured we were done until he started walking toward me. Don’t stare, don’t stare, my mind screamed. But my eyes didn’t listen. They focused on the tattoo encircling his left arm. Quarter notes and barbed wire.

  He reached into his pocket and handed me something rectangular. “I’m assuming you don’t have one, or you’d be using it.”

  My fingers brushed his as I took the iPod from him. I’d had an iPod, but it broke right before graduation. “You’re loaning this to me?”

  “You need it more than I do.” Sean ran his fingers through his hair, and I tried not to let my eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t know what kind of music you like, but I’ve got a ton on there.”

  “Thanks. Um…” Maybe he’d taken his happy meds. “Do you want me to slip it under your door in the morning?”

  “That works.”

  We stared at each other for a few seconds. His eyes seemed more intense in the dim lighting of the loft. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

  Just say something. Don’t let him think his naked torso has left you speechless.

  He shifted his weight. “Okay, well…good night?”

  “’Night. And, you know, thanks.” I fumbled for my doorknob. “Again.”

  He nodded and walked away, but I could’ve sworn I saw the flicker of a smile.

  Real smooth, Jasmine.

  As I drifted off to one of Sean’s playlists, I made an interesting discovery: We had almost identical music collections.

  Chapter 8

  Veta shot me a dirty look when I pushed open the door of Seaside Psychic at 9:10 a.m. “Sorry,” I said, panting, “Felix was t—”

  “Taking an hour-long shower—I know. You’re still late, and it’s only a ten-minute walk.” She resumed counting a drawer full of cash.

  “I really am sorry, Veta. I ran all the way here.” Things were bad when a cheap sleeping bag felt like silk on my skin. Just five more minutes, I’d kept telling myself.

  A giggle erupted from the white couch. Zoe sat there clutching another book, studying me. Sprite, their psychic kitty, was curled up on her lap.

  “Sleep well?” Veta wore a knowing smile.

  “Yeah, thanks for the warning.” I glanced at Zoe again. “Bryn has a real…exercise addiction.”

  “I’m almost thirteen, not five,” Zoe said. “It’s not like I can’t figure out what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh.” I looked at Veta for help, but she just shook her head and laughed.

  “You don’t like our brother much, huh?” Zoe asked.

  “Well, I don’t really know him.”

  She smirked. “He’s only a jerk to the girls he likes.”

  “Good to know.” I tried to make my laugh casual, but it sounded more like something was stuck in my throat. “Where’s Tina?”

  Veta rolled her eyes. “She’s on the phone with Regina Price—that woman never shuts up.” She tied her long hair into a ponytail, allowing a few bright red locks to escape. “Lucky for you, though. She probably doesn’t know you were late.”

  “She won’t fire me, will she?”

  “Not the first time,” Zoe said. “But if it happens again…” She grinned and made a slicing motion acro
ss her throat.

  “It was only a few minutes,” I mumbled.

  “More like ten. And don’t get too comfy.” Veta walked toward me, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not going to cover your butt next time.”

  I held up my hands in surrender. “What should I be doing right now?”

  “Make sure the shop looks presentable before we open. Wipe down the front counter, the display case, and reading tables and straighten the clothes and waiting area.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “Cleaning stuff is in the closet.”

  I nodded and headed for the back, reminding myself that I was lucky just to have this job. Cleaning wasn’t exactly my specialty. I’d never really done it, outside of tidying up during my after-school shift at the café. When business was slow, I’d make a beeline for the broom. I mean, really, who could screw up sweeping? My coworkers didn’t like me much.

  The shelves in the closet were lined with several natural cleaners. All purpose seemed like a safe bet, so I grabbed the bottle and attacked the front counter first. Spray and wipe. How hard could it be?

  Veta sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine. “Do you believe in ghosts?” she asked.

  “Take a wild guess.”

  “I’ll go with no.” She grinned, shaking her head. “How can you play like you do and have such a closed mind?”

  Zoe snorted and muttered something like “Here we go.”

  “Hey, show me concrete proof and my mind will open right up,” I said.

  “Maybe I can.”

  I stopped wiping and faced her. “Please don’t tell me you talk to ghosts.”

  “Not like I’m talking to you. It’s mostly intuition. Sometimes images will pop in my head or I’ll get strong feelings.”

  “That’s called daydreaming.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure I control the thoughts in my head,” I said.

  “Pretty sure isn’t sure.” Veta got up and walked behind the counter, running her finger along the top. “It’s amazing how much plain water can help with cleaning.” She reached underneath and tossed me a spray bottle. It slammed right into my chest. “And one more thing?”

  “Yes?”

  “Use the glass cleaner for the glass next time.” She winked and began rearranging the oils on the shelves.