The time flew by so fast, she couldn’t believe how soon Miss Orman returned. Libby’s face must have shown disappointment, as she held the mouse about to click on a site with Jamieson’s newest release.
“I guess I came back too soon.”
“Has it really been a half hour?” She felt desperate to hear his voice again.
“It’s been forty minutes. Didn’t you hear the bell ring?”
“Oh my gosh, no.” Her head jerked up to check the wall clock, confirming the late time. “I guess I better get going.” She hated to do it, but she clicked the window closed, so Miss Orman wouldn’t see what she’d been looking at--the official Jamieson site, with loads of pictures, music downloads, tour dates, blogs and scheduled appearances. She could spend a day on it and never grow tired. How could she have not taken the time to hear their music?
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Libby beamed as she stood and picked up her books. “Yeah, thanks, I did. It was great.” She felt a mix of euphoria of pouring over the details of Peter’s life and regret at having to quit.
“Glad to help. You let me know if you need to get on again.”
“I definitely will, thanks.”
“Libby?”
“Yeah?” She turned back.
“Don’t you think it would help if I gave you a late pass?”
“Oh yeah.” Libby took the pink slip of paper and wandered out of the office toward her next class. All the photos of Peter and his brothers filled her head. He smiled brightly in each photo. Some taken on stage, some from photo shoots, others greeting fans. Those were interesting. Lots of girls surrounded the three brothers with huge smiles, but she bet they never spent time alone with Peter just hanging out.
She needed to figure out how to get more of him. She needed his CD, and now, but she didn’t have any money. This could take some creativity.
Chapter 5
Peter waited backstage with his brothers. His mind wandered to his afternoon with Libby. He loved the time they spent together at Parfrey’s Glen and hoped she’d be there Saturday. He didn’t know why he felt this way; maybe because she didn’t care who he was. But, she didn’t really know who he was either. The thought made him smile. It also might be that Libby was his friend and no one else’s. She had nothing to do with the band, the CD or the tour.
“Hello, earth to Peter.” Garrett interrupted his thoughts. “You want to get your head in the game here?”
“What?” Peter scowled.
“You might want your earpiece.”
Peter reached for his sound pack, and found it absent. “Aw, man. I’ll be right back.” He rushed off stage to get it and was met half way by a panicked sound tech who quickly hooked him up.
“You’ve got it bad, man!” Garrett yelled after him. “Real bad!”
Once back in place and ready, Peter waited for their intro. The crowd in the arena went wild. The combined energy built to epic levels. Garrett waited stage left, guitar in hand. Adam mirrored him on stage right with Peter anchored the center. His blood rushed in anticipation as their moment grew near. God he loved this.
The music built in a huge crescendo, spotlights roamed the arena and fog rolled onto the stage. The trio of brothers nodded to each other, in sync and ready to rock. Garrett went first, a spotlight illuminated him; he hit the opening chord on his bass guitar and the crowd cheered. Moments later Adam appeared, guitar in hand. His young grin sent the audience into a frenzy as he joined Garrett in musical power. Finally Peter stepped into the lights and the crowd went ballistic.
Peter loved this part of the night. After a long afternoon of rehearsal, sound checks, and final warm ups, it was time for the payoff. This was nirvana. He gave his signature welcome to the audience nodding in several directions, each time eliciting more cheers. He stepped up to his mic stand and held it in anticipation. His body pulsed to the beat as he waited for his entrance. He gazed out over the vast crowd, filled with confidence and power.
The audience rocked to the music. Eager and excited, they became putty in his hands. The moment came. The guitars hit his key, the drum and cymbals crashed and the lights exploded in color. In that same instant, Peter swung the mic stand and nailed his opening note, his body taut with strength and energy. His pure voice rose above the instruments; his lyrics hit the back wall. He owned the stage. All eyes were on him. The night was young and he was ready to rock.
Song after song the three moved with a synchronicity only possible between blood brothers. They worked off each other’s signals, and moved from individual highlights and solos to unison movement. At times they delivered their carefully crafted harmonies, singing together at one mic, their heads inches apart. They exchanged silent communication. When they were on stage, they displayed complete and utter harmony of movement, thought and talent. They hummed with energy.
While Garrett and Adam awed with their expert guitar stylings, Peter ramped things up with smoking stage moves and vocals. He entertained the audience with his high energy. He leapt off side stages, performed mic tricks, spins and slides. His stage performance mesmerized the crowd.
Perspiration glistened over his body. His mop of hair dripped with sweat. He whipped it to the side as he belted each note. He left every ounce of energy on stage, he held nothing back and the audience knew it. Peter peered out over the thousands of fans and watched as the lights illuminated different areas of the audience, revealing the enormous mass of humanity that the three brothers, Jamieson, held in a spell. The experience of sharing the personal music he created, never failed to intoxicate him.
# # #
Libby slunk low in her folding chair and buried her head in a copy of “The Great Gatsby”. What a dumb story. Why was it considered a classic? At least the book helped her appear a little less obvious as she sold tickets among the riotous noise of the commons area.
True to her word, Miss Orman expected her to sell bus tickets to the away football game that night. Some cheerleader should be stuck at the table, not her. Football sucked.
Nearby, the lunch ladies served up cardboard tasting pizza and watered down turkey soup. For the granola heads, limp lettuce awaited.
She’d sold a dozen or so tickets, but most of the students ignored her. Libby became invisible to them months earlier. Of course, she didn’t help the situation any by ever trying to fit in. When she started school in Rockville, her heart overflowed with grief and thoughts of the family she lost. Her withdrawn personality mistakenly convinced the kids she was emo, but even the emo kids found her eerily withdrawn. Libby’s only problem, she suffered grief. But everything changed the day Peter walked into her life. Now all she could concentrate on was him and how unbelievable it was that he actually wanted to see her again.
Since checking Peter out on the internet, she thought of nothing else. When they talked at Parfrey’s Glen, she thought he exaggerated the popularity of their band. In reality, he’d understated it.
She couldn’t imagine why he wanted to see her again on Saturday, but she wasn’t going to second guess his sanity. She could barely wait to lay eyes on him again and make sure she didn’t dream the whole thing up. The hours crept by so slowly, she wanted to scream. If only she could figure out a way to get his CD, then she could hear his voice and pretend he was near. She needed a connection to him, some way to get a little closer. But she had no money and no way to go to a store outside of school hours to buy it.
Aunt Marge insisted she spend all her time studying or at Parfrey’s Glen for the fresh air. She was paranoid Libby might do something remotely normal like get a job, have friends over, or god forbid have a date. Libby suspected her aunt possessed other motives, but it never bothered her until now. She was used to it. Libby never questioned authority, she always gave in. She didn’t even care about not having a drivers license. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
A group of freshman girls walked up and bought tickets. They didn’t make any snide comments. They probably didn’t know he
r background.
“Thanks,” their chirpy little voices said.
“Yup,” Libby mumbled as they walked away.
Libby picked up the crinkled bills and smoothed them. Out of boredom she arranged them in the same direction. As she flipped the bills around, it dawned on her she held enough money to buy Peter’s CD. Her heart stopped for just a moment as she contemplated the thought.
Stealing is wrong.
She placed the bills in the metal cash box and closed it. She would not do it. She’d find another way.
Her determination wavered. The money would solve her problem so fast. No one would miss a few dollars. In the grand scheme of things seventeen dollars was nothing.
Never in her life had Libby taken anything from anyone, but this was different. Her aunt only gave her enough money for lunch, nothing more. If Libby needed clothing, her aunt drove her to the thrift store to pick out a couple items. It humiliated Libby to buy other people’s castoffs, but she couldn’t get a job and she didn’t have access to money. Now that she thought about it, she realized how much Aunt Marge controlled her life and she didn’t like the taste of it.
The only way she could get Peter’s CD was to be creative. Taking this money qualified.
She peered around the crowded commons area. No one seemed to notice her, or the tempting cash box. She chewed on her lip and tapped her toe against the table leg. After a minute or so, she reached forward and opened the lid. Her pulse raced. She grabbed a couple five dollar bills and a handful of ones.
She pulled her hand out, folded the bills over a couple times and slid them into her back pocket. She kept her head down. If she didn’t look at anyone, they wouldn’t look at her. She sat rocking her foot back and forth counting the final minutes until the bell. At last it rang and her ticket-selling session ended.
Libby grabbed her books and the cash box and walked to the front office. She was unaware of the eyes that followed her.
The old secretary resembled a fossil. She took the box from Libby. “Thank you, dear.”
Libby nodded and left, her head held low in shame. The stolen money burned in her back pocket like a hot coal.
Without hesitating, she went straight to her locker, stuffed her books inside and grabbed her coat. She swallowed down her guilt. She would not let her rule abiding conscious get in the way. As the remaining students straggled to their next class, Libby strode out the school doors.
Chapter 6
Libby’s worn out shoes padded through the discount store. She wanted to go unnoticed, but the bright store lights shone down revealing her presence. Guilt hung on her shoulders like a heavy chain.
She found the entertainment section filled with electronics, video games and DVDs. She searched one aisle and then another. Nothing. Panic crept over her. She had little time to return to school and catch her bus.
“Can I help you?” A middle-aged man with a big belly held a scanning device in his hand and waited for her response.
“Uh, yes.” She whispered, then cleared her throat and spoke louder. “I was wondering where you keep the CDs?” Desperation began to sink in. She needed the CD. It had to be here. She had to have it.
“Down this aisle on the end.” He walked that direction, assuming she’d follow. She trailed after him. Did he wonder why a high school kid was in the store during the middle of the afternoon?
He turned the corner. “Country and show tunes are on this side, rock and jazz on the other, new releases are on the aisle end. Is there anything particular you’re looking for?”
He waited. She didn’t want to confess her purpose for being there. It might expose her true feelings, someone might overhear. She glanced around, but found no audience. The man followed her gaze. He raised his brows in question.
“Jamieson?” she answered, quieter than she meant to.
“Their display is on the end, you can’t miss it.” To Libby’s relief, he turned and went the opposite direction.
Libby tried not to rush as she moved to the aisle end. There stood a six-foot-tall cutout photo of a smiling Peter, Garrett and Adam, advertising their latest CD. Libby stood back in awe. Her hand reached out and touched the glossy cardboard imitation of Peter. It was almost as good as the real thing. The huge display dominated space next to a wall of Jamieson CDs. Copy after copy featured Peter Jamieson smiling back at her.
Never in her wildest thoughts did she imagine he was so famous. He gave none of it away when they’d been together. She wanted to scream with joy. She picked up a plastic encased CD, his handsome face exactly as she remembered. She grinned back at him then cradled the coveted CD. The risk of cutting classes and coming all this way was worth whatever punishment Aunt Marge might dish out.
When Libby checked out, her hands shook as she passed the stolen bills to the checker. She walked out of the store and looked both directions to be sure no one watched. She darted around the side of the store, and pulled her prize from the bag. She ripped the packaging off as quickly as she could with her still shaking hands. Then the clear tape wouldn’t let her by. She picked at it, then used a nail file to lift the edge. Finally, she won the battle. Inside the case lay a perfect, untouched CD, and a glossy booklet containing lyrics and more pictures of Peter and his brothers.
Her heart sang. She kissed the CD cover then hugged it. Her eyes watered with giddy excitement. It belonged to her! After a couple minutes of idol worship, she reluctantly tucked it back in the bag and into her small pack. She rushed back to school afraid she would miss the afternoon bus home or get caught in the act of walking up to school as everyone else left.
Later back at Aunt Marge’s, Libby snuck up to her room. She placed a chair against the door in case her aunt came up. The rest of the afternoon and that night she poured over the glossy booklet cover to cover, while listening to the CD through oversized headphones she’d dug out of a box in the hall closet. She recognized Peter’s amazing voice in every song and still couldn’t believe she’d spent a sunny afternoon talking to him just days before. Late in the night Libby drifted off with the glorious sound of Peter’s voice lulling her to sleep. There were no bad dreams that night.
# # #
“Dad, come on. It’s not even out of the way.”
Peter continued to push. He refused to back down. Garrett and Adam watched, eager to see who won the power struggle. Why couldn’t anything in his life be private?
“We’re already behind schedule. We’ve got production meetings on the video shoot for tomorrow, you boys have interviews and wardrobe fittings, plus I’ve got some tour issues to iron out.”
Dad could be immovable at times. He wanted life to be neat and tidy like his pleated Dockers and shoes with tassels.
“Just because this isn’t important to you, doesn’t mean it isn’t important to me,” Peter said. “I gave my word. That should be worth something.” He stood his ground, waiting for the response he wanted. The only way to get through to his dad was to out-logic him.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to start letting girls influence your life. You’ve got plenty of girls chasing after you on tour. What’s so different about this one?”
“That’s the point; she is different. She’s not like all the other screaming fools. She’s interesting and fun, and she doesn’t care about all the band stuff. She never even heard of Jamieson before I told her.” Libby’s friendship was like a special secret no one else knew about. No publicist or paparazzi to spoil it. No outside interference could get to them when they were at Parfrey’s Glen. Just two people hanging out.
“I thought everyone on the planet knew us,” Adam piped in from the couch, as he clicked through the camera’s stored photos.
Peter turned and fixed his little brother with a stare.
“Peter, it’s pouring rain out there. If this girl has any sense, she won’t be standing in this deluge waiting for you, and if she is, well that’s another issue,” his dad said.
Peter turned to his mother. “Mom, please, y
a gotta help me out here.”
“You know, Jett,” his mother’s voice held that soothing, ‘I’m gonna get my way’ tone. “We’ve always encouraged the boys to have lives outside of their music. This is another chance for that.”
“I was talking about playing soccer, not chasing girls.”
“If it’s so important to him, why not let him spend some time with this girl? He’s seventeen. If I recall correctly, you spent a lot of time with girls at that age.”
Peter’s eyes darted from one parent to the other as if watching a tennis match. He didn’t dare say a word to distract them.
“Well.” His dad wavered.
Peter held his breath. His mom was good. She knew how to handle the man.
“What could it hurt? We’ll fit everything in. We always do,” she added.
“Alright, but no more than an hour. I’m not sitting around in the rain waiting for Romeo here.”
“We’ll go grab a quick lunch while Peter checks to see if . . .” she turned to Peter, “What is her name?”
“Libby.”
“Yes, that’s right, Libby. Well grab lunch while Peter checks to see if Libby is there.”
His father grunted his assent.
“Thank you.” Peter mouthed to his mom.
She responded with a smile and a pat on his arm.
“Score,” he said under his breath, pumping his fist.
Chapter 7
The instant the door opened Peter flew out of the bus ignoring the steady rain that soaked the area. His footsteps sank into the soggy grass as he ran across the clearing and past the large oak where he first met Libby. He made his way down the muddy path leading him closer to the stream. The slick ground slowed his progress. Please let her be here.
Rock and a Hard Place Page 5
