Ms. Sensible harrumphs in my head and folds her arms across her chest. She isn’t a heartless bitch. She’s just very protective of our heart.
Not that I care what Kellan does.
“I wrote a new song last night,” Switchblade says.
“Nice,” Kellan says. I can’t see his face, but he sounds happy to hear it.
“I think you’re really going to like it,” Switchblade finishes.
“Sweet. We can try it out at practice tonight with the guys. But I need to get some food first. You hungry?”
Practice? With the guys? Are these two in a band?
Pink haired Switchblade nods, “Sure. Oh, I made up a list of band names. I came up with a whole bunch.”
“I’ve got some too,” Kellan says. “We’ll see what the guys came up with and vote tonight. The quicker we pick a name, the sooner we can start promoting ourselves. I’m itching to get back onstage.”
They are in a band. They suck. I haven’t had time to call up Olivia to work on song writing. All I’ve had time to do was get my lesson plans together for teaching my students. Turns out this job is more time consuming than I’d anticpated. Maybe that’s why Kellan is so standoffish? Too many lesson plans to prepare?
“Me too,” Switchblade grins at Kellan. “I haven’t played guitar in front of an audience since I moved to L.A.”
She plays guitar? She probably sucks.
Kellan chuckles, “When people in town hear you play, they’re gonna go nuts.”
He can’t be serious. How good can she be? She has a nose ring! And pink hair! Everyone knows that people with nose rings and pink hair aren’t any good at guitar! I learned that in high school! I think it’s even a question on the PSATs!
42. Women with ___, ___ at playing guitar.
(A) pink hair … suck
(B) nose rings … blow
(C) pink hair and nose rings … epic fail
(D) All of the above
In response to Kellan’s compliment, Switchblade giggles. She giggles. Lame. Ms. Sensible rolls her eyes. In fact, everyone on my internal committee rolls their eyes.
Switchblade asks Kellan, “You think we’ll be ready for L.A. Gunslingers in a few weeks?”
“Hells yeah,” Kellan smiles. “We’ve got a bunch of solid songs already. Plus, a buddy of mine runs The Dive Bomb’s open mic night every week. I bet we can get the band rehearsed and try out our set there before we play Gunslingers.”
They’re planning on playing L.A. Gunslingers? Wow, I’m jealous. And I feel like a slacker. I haven’t done shit to find a band.
“Yup,” Switchblade nods and grins at Kellan. “It’s cool as hell when everyone in a band can pull their own weight and there’s no drama. I can’t believe we’ve made so much progress in only a couple weeks.”
“I know,” Kellan chuckles, “we’re on our way to the top. Ready for some food?”
“Let’s do it,” Switchblade smiles.
Rich Aymes’ gruff voice startles me from behind, “Mind if I squeeze by?”
I whip around, “Oh! Sorry!” I step aside so he can pass.
Rich opens the door and I peer around him. Kellan and Switchblade are already gone. Rich walks up to a mom sitting with her son and the three of them chat amiably.
I spin on my rocker boot heel and march back to my practice room where I teach. I pull the door closed so I can have some privacy. I lean against the door, my arms folded across my chest, and frown.
Why am I so irritable all of a sudden?
Is it because of Switchblade? Attractive and apparently amazing on guitar Switchblade? That shouldn’t matter to me, should it? Kellan can do whatever he wants with his life. I don’t really care.
Someone in my internal committee arches a doubtful eyebrow.
I don’t care!
Another committee member raises her eyebrows as well, and politely covers a giggle with the side of her hand.
I’m serious! I don’t!
Now the whole committee is tittering in my head.
Fuck you guys!
I know how to fix this.
I grab my purse from where it’s stashed behind a practice amp and pull out my cell phone. I dial a number.
This situation is going to be rectified right now.
The band thing and the man thing.
Chapter 76
VICTORY
“Are they cute?” Olivia asks.
I say, “I can’t believe I’ve never introduced you to Lucas and Logan Summer.”
“If they’re cute, neither can I,” Olivia jokes.
We’re setting up our gear inside Quadrophenia, a rehearsal studio in Silver Lake. We picked it because it’s close to Liv’s apartment and not too far from Hollywood.
Like the name would suggest, Quadrophenia has four rehearsal rooms that bands rent by the hour. The converted building on Hyperion Avenue looks like it was built in 1952. The scalloped pointy awning outside resembles abstract twinkling stars. It has a very spacey vibe that I love.
Inside, the floor of our rehearsal room is carpeted in a sumptuous burnt orange pile. Furry mustard colored shag carpeting lines the walls up to waist height. From the top of the mustard shag to the ceiling, the walls are covered with old school acoustic tiling from the 1960s. A couple of dusty Sunn amps from the 1970s are in the corners for musicians to use as needed. Mic stands are scattered around the room.
This place reminds me of the kind of studio The Who or Iron Butterfly recorded their albums back in the day.
Olivia’s modern keyboard setup, which is hooked up to her laptop and Roland KC-550 keyboard amp, contrasts starkly with the throwback vibe of the room. But not her outfit, which is a fitted carnation pink and white 1960s shirtwaist dress encircled by a white belt. Olivia stands tall on carnation platform sandals and I notice her toenails match the carnation pink of the dress, which has wide lapels and short sleeves that are rolled up past her elbows. The outfit goes perfectly with her black Bettie Page bangs and waves. I don’t know how she manages to look so damn stylish all the time.
I ask, “Do you have a dresser or your own stylist, or what?”
Liv grins, “No. I just do a lot of shoplifting,” she winks.
I laugh, “Really?”
“No,” she smiles, “but I do have several credit cards. But if I ever max them out, I will stoop to stealing.” She pretends to check the wristwatch she doesn’t have and says, “That should be in about two weeks. I need my fashion fix.”
“Oh, Liv. You’re such a junkie,” I snicker.
“And proud of it. Hey, do you think your friends are stuck in traffic?”
I check the time on my cell phone. “Between here and San Diego? Probably.”
When I called Lucas and Logan about jamming with me and Olivia to write some new material, they said yes without hesitation. The only downside to working with them is the two hour drive between San Diego and L.A. And that’s without traffic. It can easily be three or more hours if you hit rush hour.
Olivia says, “Let’s jam until they get here.” She clicks around on her laptop and a sample drum beat starts playing from her keyboard amp.
I plug my Fender into the Bogner Spider Valve combo Rich Aymes let me borrow from the school. It turns out Rich is totally cool and super generous.
Olivia sets her keyboard to a groovy gritty hammond organ sound reminiscent of Deep Purple’s Hush. Her fingers tap dance on the keys as she hammers out a bouncy riff.
“Hey,” I say, “that sounds rad. What key is that?”
“C major,” she says.
I start playing a funky rock riff on top of her keyboards. I totally have Hush in my head, but it doesn’t take long for me to steer it in a different, heavier direction.
Olivia starts humming into a mic in harmony with our playing.
“Yeah!” I cheer as we both really get into it. “LIV! ARE WE RECORDING THIS?!” I shout while playing.
She reaches over to her laptop with one hand, still hitting chords on t
he keyboard with her right, and clicks on the laptop several times. “ROLLING!” she shouts.
We keep playing for a long time, fleshing out the basic rhythms and riffs into a more complete song. At a natural stopping point, we both make a lot of noise with the keyboard and guitar, then Liv reaches over and stops the drum beat. Not quite the same as having a drummer, but close enough.
The door to the rehearsal room opens and Lucas Summer cheers, “Hells yeah!” He holds his bass guitar case in hand. “That was awesome!”
His brother Logan stands beside him, smiling and holding a big bass drum in both arms.
“Hello,” Olivia blurts, eyeing Lucas and Logan hungrily. She’s so obvious, but she doesn’t care.
I can’t blame her.
Lucas and Logan are a couple of hotties who both exude San Diego beach casualness. Tall, muscular and deeply bronzed from living under the sun. Their summer blond hair has a natural curl that touches their shoulders. They could almost be twins, but they’re not. Lucas is a year older than me at 23, and Logan is a year younger at 21. The only obvious difference between them is Lucas’ blue eyes and Logan’s green.
Both wear surf t-shirts, shorts, and flip flops.
“You guys are late!” I say, “I was worried you weren’t gonna make it.”
“Blame him,” Lucas chuckles, elbowing Logan.
Logan rolls his eyes, “You were driving, dude.”
“What took you so long?” I ask.
“Oh, dude, traffic was insane,” Lucas says. He turns to his brother, “But we would’ve been here sooner if Logan hadn’t stayed in the water all morning.”
Logan shrugs shyly and mumbles. “The waves were off the hook. I didn’t see you quitin’ early, bro.”
A guilty smile spreads across Lucas’ wide, perfect mouth.
“You guys surf?” Olivia asks, her hip now cocked flirtatiously.
“Daily,” Lucas grins.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf,” Olivia says suggestively. Olivia works quickly when she’s attracted to a guy. She may as well have a sign flashing over her head that says AVAILABLE.
Lucas says, “Let me know when you want lessons.” He checks out Olivia with admiring eyes.
I need to stop them before they drive to the beach for adult playtime in the waves at Venice Beach. I say, “You guys need help with your gear?”
“Sure,” Lucas says.
We all walk outside. Liv makes sure to “accidentally” bump into Lucas about twenty times on the way out. I’m just waiting for her to pretend to drop something and do a breathy Legally Blonde “bend and snap” for him.
When we get to the sidewalk outside, Lucas asks, “What were you guys playing when we walked in?”
“Just jamming,” I say.
“Sounded awesome,” Logan mumbles. He’s always so shy. It’s so cute on him. Heck, everything is cute on Logan.
Lucas and Logan’s immaculate 1977 white-roofed orange-bodied VW bus is parked next to the curb in front of Quadrophenia. They love the bus because it’s perfect for surfboards or band equipment. It’s pretty reliable, but I’ve helped them work on the engine more than once. Had to show them I knew my way around a dual port carburetor. They were impressed. My dad taught me a lot.
“Hey,” Lucas says to me, “We heard about what happened with Skin Trade. Sorry about that.”
I roll my eyes and groan, “Don’t remind me.”
Logan says, “Scott was a prick.”
I chuckle, “I wish you’d told me sooner.”
Logan shrugs and smiles.
Lucas laughs, “That’s what I’m always telling him. He’s not as dumb as he acts.”
Logan rolls his eyes at his brother.
Changing the subject, I ask, “How’s Jake doing? I haven’t seen him since we played the Belly Up.”
Lucas smiles, “He’s in Hawaii with his girlfriend Madison, cutting up waves on the North Shore.”
I grin, “I’m surprised you guys haven’t joined them.”
Logan grins, “We would if the airlines let me bring my drum set.”
Lucas chuckles, “I tried to stuff his kick drum in the overhead before, but it wouldn’t fit.”
I joke, “Logan, you should take up bongos.”
Logan grins, “Thinking about it.”
It takes the four of us a few trips to haul all their gear inside the building. The boys get the heaviest stuff like Lucas’ amp and Logan’s hardware bag for his drum stands. Olivia cheerleads and flirts while carrying the snare drum, which is the lightest thing she can find.
Lucas plugs in his bass and warms up while Logan sets up his drum kit.
Lucas asks, “Can you guys play what you were playing when we showed up?”
“Do you want to hear the recording,” Olivia says, “or we can just play it?” She glances at me.
“I remember it,” I say. “Let’s just play it. We’re in C major,” I say to Lucas.
He nods.
The three of us play while Logan bolts all his drums together.
It doesn’t take long for Lucas to work up a nice bumping bass line. When Logan is all set up, he sits behind his kit and adjusts the positioning of his drums until he’s happy. Without warming up, he joins the beat, keeping tight time with Lucas.
It’s an incredible experience working with skilled musicians. The music comes together effortlessly. While we jam through the impromptu tune, we get tighter each time we play it through.
We stop after the third time, Liv asks, “Who’s gonna sing?”
“I can,” Lucas says.
Having played with Lucas and Logan many times, I know Lucas has an amazing voice, and Logan sings amazing harmony. And of course, Liv sings like a pop diva.
I feel a pinch of jealousy because I don’t sing.
(singsingsing)
I push it out of my mind.
I play guitar.
And I’m fine with that.
(singsingsingsingsingsing)
Olivia asks, “Lucas, do you have any lyrics in mind?”
“Not yet,” he says. “Do you?”
I notice a distinct chemistry and tension between them. I hope I don’t have to remind them of the only rule in rock & roll. If things pan out between the four of us, I’d hate to see some drama between them blow it all up. Maybe it won’t matter. We’ll see.
“I have a few ideas,” Olivia grins at Lucas.
He smirks, aware of her flirtatiousness, “Yeah, what?”
“Something about a boy?”
I chuckle “You always sing about boys, Liv.”
“What can I say?” she smiles, “I happen to like them. A lot.” Her eyes are all over Lucas.
I’m going to have to corral her or she and Lucas are going to go at it like wild horses before the sun goes down.
An hour later, after we’ve jammed hard, we’re all sweating in the hot rehearsal room, which has no A/C.
“That rocked!” I cheer. “What did you guys think?”
“Sounding good,” Lucas says.
“I like it,” Olivia smiles.
Logan nods and grins.
I’m hopeful that between the four of us we can come up with some good music in time for L.A. Gunslingers. The show date is breathing down our necks, but with the skills the four of us have, we just might pull it off.
I say, “You guys wanna take a quick break?”
Lucas sets his bass in a guitar stand.
Logan pulls his shirt over his head. His chiseled abs accordion exquisitely. Even I can’t help but stare.
Olivia is openly gawking and waving her hands in her face, “I need oxygen,” she moans. “It’s really hot in here.”
Lucas chuckles, watching Olivia drool, taking it all in stride. I’ve seen groupies throw themselves at Lucas and Logan hundreds of times. The brothers are used to it.
Logan still hasn’t noticed Olivia and he wipes his face with his t-shirt before dropping it on the top of his floor tom. That’s when he realizes we’r
e all staring at him.
“What?” Logan asks.
“Woo, I’m going to faint,” Olivia sighs and looks at me while fanning her face agitatedly, “I can’t decide who’s hotter, them or me.” She glances between the brothers, “One of you two brown skinned babes needs to catch me in your arms because I’m seriously about to faint.”
I roll my eyes, “She’s fine.”
“No, seriously,” Olivia says breathlessly, still waving her hands in her face, “I’m gonna pass out. I’m seeing stars. Oh wait, that’s just Lucas and Logan,” she giggles. “Someone catch me?”
Neither Lucas nor Logan makes any sudden moves.
Lucas says, “Logan, you want me to do it?”
“Be my guest,” he says.
Olivia says, “I think I need both of you. Not because I’m heavy, because we all know I’m nearly weightless, but because I have slender bones. Quick, you two,” she glances between the brothers, “I don’t want to break anything when I collapse. I’m very delicate,” she sighs.
I laugh, “She’s not delicate. She’s just an attention whore.”
“I’m ignoring that,” Olivia announces.
Lucas strolls toward Olivia behind her keyboard stand.
Olivia sighs, “Your brother too.”
Logan laughs and stands up.
When both of them stand on either side of Olivia, she says, “Mmmm, Summer Sandwich. My favorite.”
I shake my head, “You’re such a ho, Liv.”
She whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t tell them that.”
I chuckle, “I think they can figure that out on their own.”
Olivia giggles and says to the brothers, “When Victory says ho, she means the high class kind. You’ll never catch me standing under a lamppost soliciting drive by Johnsons.”
“Good to know,” Lucas chuckles.
I giggle, “It’s Johns, Liv.”
She says dismissively, “Johns, Johnsons, Dicks, I don’t care what their names are. I’m nobody’s street corner whore.”
Victory RUN: Collected Victory RUN 1, 2, 3 Page 36
