The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  Caleb switches the music to the Bee Gees immediately, cranking up the volume. “Roll down the window!” he screams at me.

  I do his bidding, amused. We both swivel our heads in the girls’ direction and they’re watching us. Hayden’s smiling. Gracie’s scowling.

  Caleb leans over me, trying to shove his face through the open window. “The Bee Gees!”

  Gracie gives him the double finger from her hips, as if she’s poised to shoot him.

  He falls back into his seat, laughing. “This is going to be an interesting night.”

  I just laugh along with him.

  We finally find a parking lot and then make our way to the bar. Because that’s all Strummers is. A nondescript building with a bar inside that hosts various musical acts that command a small audience. I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been, and when we approach the line, I realize pretty much every single person standing in it is female.

  And they’re all watching us questioningly.

  “There are so many girls,” Caleb says. He sounds impressed.

  “Maybe you can find ten and put them on your yacht,” I suggest.

  “Huh?” He frowns.

  “The song,” I remind him.

  “Oh right. Yeah. Not interested in ten tonight. Only one.” He makes his way toward her, pasting on a cocky grin as he zeros in on Gracie. “Did you like the song I played for you?” he asks her eagerly.

  “You’re an idiot,” she says, turning her back on him.

  I approach Hayden much more subtly. “Hey.”

  She smiles up at me as I lean in and drop a chaste kiss on her cheek. I want to do so much more, but I’m restraining myself. “You made it,” she says when I pull away.

  “Sorry we’re a little late. Blame it on him.” I point at Caleb. “He was primping for his date.”

  “So was she.” Hayden gestures to Gracie. “And she wasn’t getting pretty for Robin either.”

  I wince. “Is his name really Robin?”

  Hayden laughs, the sound melodic, stirring something within me. Everything about her stirs me up. Leaves me wanting more. “Yes, it really is. She was so pissed I told you guys. She’d never admit it, but that’s the only thing holding her back from this guy. His name.”

  “Caleb grabbed onto that little fact and hasn’t let it go. He forced me to listen to the Bee Gees on the drive over here.”

  “The Bee Gees aren’t bad,” she says.

  “Yeah, but they’re old as hell. Like before our parents’ time,” I say. “I’m guessing Robin’s parents are super old.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t really care either.” She grabs hold of my hand, interlocking our fingers as she pulls me closer. “Look, I’m sorry you had to come tonight. I’m sure there are about a million other things you’d rather do than go to a shitty local band’s concert.”

  “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you,” I say truthfully, stepping closer to her.

  She squeezes my hand, her lips curved upward. “That’s an overly friendly way to feel about me.”

  It doesn’t even bother me that she brings up the friend thing. She knows we’re more than that. Especially after what happened in my car. “I have overly friendly feelings about you on a daily basis,” I tell her.

  “Hmm, that sounds interesting.” She leans in closer. “Maybe you’ll have to share a few of those overly friendly feelings you have for me later. Like after the concert.”

  “You should come back to my place,” I suggest.

  “How about you come back to my place?” she offers.

  That definitely has more appeal. Less dudes. No jealous cat who might bite her. Probably cleaner. “Deal.”

  We turn our focus on Gracie and Caleb, who are currently arguing. The group of girls standing in front of them in line are facing them, ogling Caleb openly. It’s actually pretty damn amusing.

  Though neither Gracie nor Caleb appear amused.

  “Please. Just—shut up. You say the worst things ever,” Gracie says with a sneer.

  “Aw, babe. You wound me.” He rests his hands on his chest, putting on an exaggerated pained look. Bottom lip stuck out and everything. “Why you gotta be like this?”

  “Why do you have to be like this?” She waves a hand at him.

  “Like what?”

  “Like an asshole!”

  “Okay, okay.” Hayden releases her hold on me and goes to Gracie, steering her away from Caleb. “I think we need to diffuse the situation for a bit.”

  “Man, she’s feisty,” Caleb says when I go to stand next to him. His gaze never strays from Gracie. “I bet she’s wild in bed.”

  “Caleb.” I sigh. He sends me a questioning look. “She’s here tonight for someone else. Another guy. Not you.”

  “That doesn’t deter me.”

  “You told me recently you didn’t like a challenge. You want them easy.” I hate the words coming from my mouth, but I’m basically quoting Caleb’s words back to him, which doesn’t make me feel as bad.

  “That’s until I met this hottie. I mean, look at her.” He whistles low, scanning Gracie from head to toe. I know this, because he makes it very obvious.

  “Not interested,” I tell him, though I silently admit Gracie is gorgeous. The long brown hair threaded with gold, the long legs—she’s tall—the flashing hazel eyes that turn golden when she’s angry.

  I can enjoy looking at a pretty woman. I’m not fucking dead. But Gracie does nothing for me.

  “Right. You’ve got the blonde. Who is also a hottie. I mean, check her out.” He obviously stares all over again, this time, his attention all for Hayden.

  My Hayden.

  I shove Caleb in the shoulder, sending him toppling. “Knock that shit off.” He’s harmless. I know he is. And I’m not worried about him making a move on Hayden, because I already staked my claim and he won’t forget that. Which sounds like macho sexist shit, and that sort of sucks, but whatever.

  It is what it is.

  Hayden and I keep up the small talk and slowly but surely, Gracie comes back down from her Caleb anger high and starts to participate. Caleb sticks to his phone, interjecting the occasional comment that shows he’s actually listening.

  Eventually, the line outside starts to move. They’re letting us in. Anyone underage gets a wristband, so they won’t serve us at the bar, so that means we all do. The cover charge is minimal and I pay for all four of us. Not because I’m showing off, but because I don’t want Caleb to have to pay since he’s always running on a tight budget.

  “Thanks man,” he murmurs once we enter the dark building.

  “Anytime,” I reassure him.

  The space is cramped, the ceilings low. There’s a bar on the far side of the wall that runs the entire length of it. On the opposite side, there’s a small black stage that’s seen better days. There are a couple of guys on the stage, testing the speakers and other equipment, low music playing in the background. The teenage girls all rush to the front, crowding each other as they jockey for the spot with the best view.

  “Are all these girls here for Bat’s Cave?” Hayden asks Gracie. She sounds shocked. I’m guessing Bat’s Cave doesn’t usually command such an adoring crowd.

  “Not sure. Maybe some of them? Robin told me a lot of people would be coming for the opening act. Some blond dude who croons love songs he wrote himself while he strums his guitar.” Gracie rolls her eyes. “Robin hates him.”

  Hayden opens her mouth, looking ready to respond, but Caleb beats her to it.

  “Robin hates everyone because he’s named Robin and his name makes him feel emasculated,” Caleb says in a high-pitched voice.

  Then he starts to laugh.

  Gracie whirls on him. “I’m surprised you even know what that word means.”

  “I’m in college. I’m not stupid.” Caleb actually appears offended. “Does your precious Robin go to Fresno State?”

  She sulks. “No.”

  “Figures,” Caleb mutters.

&
nbsp; “Give it up,” I tell him. “Let her enjoy her night watching Robin.”

  “God, that name,” Hayden says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t make fun since I’ve got a boy name, but holy crap. I hate it. I don’t even like it that much for a girl. No offense to all the Robins in the world.”

  “Listen. All of you. Stop making fun of him. His band is the most important thing in the world to him, okay? He thinks this performance tonight is going to take him to the next level. He’s played at Strummers a couple of times already, but there’s a record exec here tonight. He’s a scout looking for talent. At least, that’s the rumor going around,” Gracie explains, her expression like stone. Pretty sure we’ve pushed her too far. “He texted me earlier this afternoon letting me know everything, and now I’m on pins and needles, hoping he finally gets noticed. This could be life changing for him. That’s why I’m here tonight, and why I wanted to bring some friends so we can show our support. But if you don’t want to be here, then leave, okay? Just go.”

  We’re all quiet as another swarm of young teen girls push past us, all of them chattering a mile a minute, their mouths open wide, the flash of their braces reflecting off the harsh fluorescent lights above. I feel bad over what’s happened tonight. I can tell by the look on Hayden’s face that she does too.

  “I’m sure they’re gonna suck big hairy balls, but if you want us to yell and cheer for them when they walk on stage, I can do that,” Caleb says earnestly, his gaze shooting to mine. “Right, T?”

  “Yeah,” I say lightly, hoping Gracie doesn’t kill Caleb before the night is over. “For sure. Whatever you want us to do.”

  “Thank you,” she says to me, her chin tilted upward when she looks in Caleb’s direction. “Stop saying they suck.”

  Caleb salutes her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The four of us eventually decide to push forward among the sea of girls, trying to find a better position so we can see the stage. I overdressed for the occasion with my jeans, black T-shirt and favorite leather jacket that I rarely wear, which means I’m currently sweating my balls off. Don’t want to take it off and carry it though, because I’m not about to lose the jacket either.

  “I like the rocker look you’ve got going on tonight,” Hayden says, running her hand down my sleeve. “This leather is soft.”

  “Thanks.” Her compliment makes sweating my ass off worth it. “You look great too.”

  Understatement. She’s wearing a white tank with a black bra beneath, the straps showing, the entire thing showing since the tank is extremely thin. Skintight black jeans that make her legs look endless. Red Chucks on her feet, meaning she went for comfort and I like that. Her eyes are heavily lined with black, and her lips are this deep, ruby red.

  “Thank you. Gracie had this whole aesthetic she wanted to present tonight, so she’s the one who dressed me. We’re groupie girls.” She holds up her hand, her index and pinky finger straight up along with her thumb, and sticks her tongue out. “Like we hang out at the Roxy, circa 1983.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  “I had to Google it. It’s a venue in Hollywood where a lot of the eighties rock bands would perform,” she further explains. “Robin is very much into that nostalgic vibe, according to Gracie.”

  “That’s…interesting,” I say.

  “Right? Weird. But I’m having fun, so whatever.” She laughs. Scoots closer to me so our bodies brush against each other’s. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Yeah?” I touch her hair, push it off her shoulder, my fingers brushing against bare skin. The tank top is plain yet sexy. Especially with the black bra beneath showing through. I stare at her chest for a moment, not caring if she knows. Pretty sure the bra is lacy.

  Also pretty sure if I keep staring, I might be able to see her nipples. Never did get to see them last time, which is a damn shame. Hope to rectify that soon.

  “Yeah. At least I don’t have to suffer alone.” She laughs.

  Unable to resist any longer, I kiss her.

  She stops laughing, circling her arms around my neck as she clings to me.

  The room goes dark for a moment, a hush settling over the crowd. I break away from Hayden, our heads turning in the same direction when the bright lights come back on, three beams of light shining upon the stage. Coming together and illuminating a lone figure in the center. He’s sitting on what looks like an ornate wooden throne, a guitar resting on his lap, his face in shadow because of the lights.

  The girls start hysterically screaming. It’s a deafening sound and Hayden pulls away from me, her eyebrows raised in shock. She turns to face the stage and I loom behind her, my hands on her hips, both of us watching. Waiting.

  Once the screams die down—somewhat—the guy leans forward, longish blond hair hanging in his face, his mouth so close to the mic, his lips brush against it as he speaks. “Good evening. My name is Jackson Rivers,” he says before he starts strumming his guitar.

  The girls scream even louder.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” Caleb yells over the din, glancing over at me, his eyes wide with surprise.

  Yeah. That was unexpected.

  I’m in shock. I had no idea Jackson was playing at Strummers tonight. Or that he played at all.

  Well, that’s not true. He’d throw parties and always sing and play his guitar, but I figured it was a way for him to get chicks. Not once when we were hanging out together over the summer or ditching practice, did he ever mention he played for actual money. I didn’t think he was serious about it.

  At all.

  “DUDE! Did you know about this?” Caleb is hollering at me.

  I slowly shake my head, my gaze going back to the stage.

  He’s playing a song I’ve never heard before, and the girls are losing their damn minds, singing along with the lyrics.

  As in, they already know the lyrics. To a song I’ve never heard before.

  “What in the hell is happening right now?” Caleb cups his hands around his mouth and screams at the top of his lungs, “JACKSON, I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN. YOU MAKE MY PANTIES WET.”

  Gracie grabs my arm, glaring at me. “I hate your friend so fucking much.”

  I’m laughing. I can’t help it.

  This is the most surreal moment of my life.

  Sixteen

  Hayden

  “What’s Caleb’s problem?” I ask Tony.

  Caleb won’t stop haggling the guy on stage. He literally just screamed, “Jackson, I’m your number one fan! Let me suck your dick!”

  The teens went absolutely nuts, many of them glaring at Caleb before they all started screaming they were Jackson’s biggest fan and they also wanted to suck his dick.

  Some of these girls don’t look any older than fourteen.

  It turned into an all-out yelling contest, Caleb provoking the girls every step of the way. That Jackson dude started to look uncomfortable and would ask everyone to settle down, even in the middle of a song. He kept sending looks in Caleb’s direction, which only encouraged Caleb to yell even more.

  “We know him. He’s on our football team,” Tony explains, his gaze meeting mine. “You met him at my house, remember? Jackson. He practically lives with us, and we had no clue he’s been out here performing for teenagers. They know the words to his songs. I bet he has a freaking fan club. And we had no idea.”

  Oh. Oh. The guy who flirted with me the first time I met Tony’s friends on campus. He was cute. Blond. Blue eyed. Tall and broad. He looks a lot grungier on stage, though. He’s giving off serious Kurt Cobain vibes—another musician before my time, but at least I know who he is and what he looks like, thanks to that T-shirt I wore all the time in middle school—right down to the cardigan he’s currently wearing. It’s old and threadbare, a nondescript beige color over a simple white tee. His fingers gleam as he plucks on his guitar thanks to all the rings on them. His jeans are tattered and torn, and he’s got dingy, used to be white Vans on his feet.

  The Vans kind of ruin the
vibe, but maybe he’s putting his own spin on it.

  “You really had no idea?” I ask once the crowd has finally settled down. Even Caleb is quiet.

  “None.” Tony shakes his head, his gaze never leaving the stage. “That dude is full of secrets.”

  Jackson sings a couple more songs, including a cover of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box,” no surprise. Though he slows it down and makes it his own—a version I think I might prefer over the original. And then he’s done. He smiles. Murmurs good night into the mic. The lights go down. Within seconds, they’re back up.

  And the throne sits on the stage. Empty.

  Caleb shoves his way in between me and Tony. “We need to go find that asshole and ask him what’s up.”

  “They won’t let us backstage,” Tony says.

  “We’ll tell them we know him,” Caleb stresses. “Like, I beat his ass in Call of Duty on almost a nightly basis, know him.”

  “Not every night,” I say. Both guys frown at me. “Clearly he’s performed here before. I’m guessing he goes missing sometimes?”

  “It’s not like we’re his keeper, but yeah. What the fuck?” Caleb appears bewildered. So does Tony. “I probably took it too far saying he made my panties wet.”

  “And the dick sucking offer. That wasn’t subtle at all,” Tony says, sounding amused.

  “You’re an asshole.” Leave it to Gracie to be completely blunt. “I swear to God, you yell something like that to Robin or anyone else in Bat’s Cave while they’re performing, and I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Caleb bops her on the nose with his index finger. “I’d like to see you try.”

  Without hesitation, Gracie lunges for Caleb, her arms stretched out, fingers curled into claws as she swings at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing the entire time, and I grab Gracie around the waist, pulling her away from him.

  “Chill out,” I tell her, noticing that a couple of big, burly dudes are watching us. “You don’t want to get kicked out before Robin performs.”

  If looks could kill, Caleb would be dead, thanks to Gracie’s glare. “Keep him away from me. I mean it.”