Bullet(38)

“What?”

“We’re gonna eat a late lunch before we go. The guys are already at a pizza place downtown. Can you join us for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t going to tell him I didn’t plan to eat. “I need to let my mom and dad know, though.” So I got up, and he came with me. I yelled down the stairs to the basement. “Hey, mom, is it okay if I go hang with my band friends for a while before they leave?”

She was talking but moving at the same time because her voice got closer as she continued. “Where are you going to be?” She appeared at the foot of the stairs.

“Napoli, I think.”

“Oh, is this Ethan?”

Oh, shit. I’m sure Brad loved hearing that. “No, I’m Brad Payne, Mrs. Quinn.” Mom was already walking up the stairs, so he held his hand out to her as she got near him.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand. I was glad she didn’t ask or say anything else. “I’m sure that’s fine, hon. What time do you think you’ll be home?”

I looked at Brad. “I should have her home in two hours or less.”

“Have fun, kids.”

On the way there, I figured out what they wanted to talk to me about. They wanted to apologize for the activities of the night before—the drugs, alcohol, and sex. But I wouldn’t take the wind out of Brad’s sails. I would let them apologize, and I would graciously accept it. Even though I would probably harbor a grudge against Ethan for my entire natural life, I did want to remain friends with these guys. It had been a simple misunderstanding, and I knew now that I was too straight-laced to hang out with my band buddies after hours. Still, it was sweet of them to think enough of me to say they were sorry.

Brad didn’t say a word on the way, choosing instead to crank an old Guns N’ Roses CD. I thought either he was feeling sheepish about the night before too or maybe he had forgotten a lot of it. That was okay, because I didn’t want to talk about it either. Just thinking about the fact that he’d seen me with my shirt off—that he’d kissed the top of my boobs!, a place no one else had ever touched—made me blush like mad. Maybe I’d be able to talk about it someday, but I wasn’t ready yet.

When we got to the restaurant, I hopped out of the van before Brad could play gentleman again. I wanted to go back to being regular old Valerie, just one of the gang. He met me in front of the van, though, and we walked in together. Just as the hostess came to ask us if there were two in our party, Brad said we were already with a group, and he’d already spotted them.

As we approached the table, Zane said, “We ordered one pepperoni and one with everything and a couple pitchers—one Pepsi, one Dr. Pepper. Is that okay?”

Brad shrugged. “That’s fine.” There were three empty seats, all in between each of the guys. Brad sat between Nick and Zane, and I sat between Zane and Ethan.

Ethan acted kind of surly, sitting with his back to the wall. Nick looked like he had seen better days. I guessed he had a horrible hangover the likes of which he’d never seen before. The waitress stopped by our table just to check in on us. I asked, “Can I get a glass of water, please?”

“Sure thing.”

Brad poured himself a glass of soda and then said, “Okay, guys. Who wants to tell her?”

Ethan sat up straight. “I will.” He looked at me, and I couldn’t read a thing from his expression. So…we were on speaking terms again? Maybe I looked like a slutty bimbo? Mentally, I chided myself and told myself I needed to pay attention. I wouldn’t look sincere accepting their apology if I was zoning out. He took a deep breath. “All four of us have talked about this seriously, and we want you to sing for the band.” I know I looked like a dumbass at that moment, because I was sure I’d heard incorrectly. He continued. “You probably already know Brad’s lined up a bunch of shows this summer, and we want you to go with us.” Well, as soon as I got excited, my bubble burst. First of all, I was already obligated to watch those two little girls until August and, secondly, my mother and father would never agree. Staying away for days at a time with four boys unchaperoned doing the kinds of things they were doing last night? Nope. They would never, ever agree. I knew it without even asking.

Still…my mind couldn’t help but soar just a little bit.

And then the questions flooded through my mind, and my brain told me all the reasons why I couldn’t. Why I shouldn’t. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have the talent. I wasn’t pretty enough. I didn’t deserve it. My voice sucked.

Shut up!

I forced the logical and rude part of my brain to quiet itself and just let the excited part take over. I wanted to indulge it just a bit. “So…what would I do? Just sing?”

“Yeah…sing.”

“But then what would you and Brad do?”

Ethan shrugged and acted like that was the silliest question he’d ever heard. “We could sing on occasion and even do a duet or two, but we could focus more on honing our guitar skills. I mean…we’re good, but we wanna be great. And we need a frontman—er, woman—who can really interact with the crowd. That’s harder to do when you have a guitar strapped to you. We need someone to stir them up, make them energetic, and I know you could do that.”

Brad said, “And face it, Val. We can’t hold a candle to your voice. The crowds ate it up both nights. They really like you.”

“Yeah, but what if that’s only because it’s something different?”

“Would you stop that already?” Ethan was tapping his finger on the table. “Give us a good reason why you can’t.”

I let out a breath. “Oh…I can give you more than one.”

Zane asked, “Like what?”

“My job.”

Ethan asked, “You have a job?”

“What? Like that’s so unexpected? Yeah…I babysit two girls Monday through Friday from now through the first week of August.”

“So? Give ‘em your two-week notice.”

“I can’t do that. It was a difficult decision for them as it was.” The waitress brought my water by and set it in front of me. “Besides…that’s the easy problem.”

Ethan was still ready to challenge anything I had to say…and I was surprised by that. “So tell us.”

“I don’t think my parents will let me.”

“Fuck your parents. You’re a grown woman.”

I felt my eyebrows jump up my forehead. That was easy for him to say. He’d been raised by a lenient mother who didn’t seem quite sure how to handle him and had probably never told him no. Brad offered gentler advice. “You could ask.” For the first time that day, I saw hope in his eyes…and an acknowledgement of what had happened between us the night before. Yeah…if my parents were smart, they’d say no without any discussion. Brad and me alone together for five minutes equaled danger for my virginity.

“Okay. So let’s say for some strange reason my parents have been replaced by pod people and say yes. Then what? I already told you I’m not going to ditch my job, and I’m sure you’d need to practice with me, and I doubt all your shows are Saturdays only, and—”

“Whoa, Val,” Brad said and reached across the table to grab my hands, probably so I’d stop flailing them and making him nervous. “Why don’t you ask your parents? If they say yes and you want to do it, then we can figure out the rest. One step at a time.”

I let go of the protest that had been forming in my lungs. Yeah, that made sense. I nodded as the waitress brought the pizzas to the table. Yeah…first things first.





Chapter Seventeen



HOLY SHIT. THIS was exciting stuff. I stayed for the meal but didn’t eat, and the guys started talking about the shows they had lined up for the summer, already acting like I was going to be joining them. They had some in the big cities—another two dates for Colorado Springs, several dates for the Denver Metro area, and even a show in Pueblo—but they had a few in smaller towns too. They were going to be busy, and that told me Brad had been a booking machine. He even had presale tickets for some of the shows that he hyped at work and on their Facebook page.

Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten Brad worked too, and surely he’d had that in mind when he’d put the schedule together. Unless, of course, his rock star passion had taken over…which wouldn’t have surprised me. I was already acting giddy and hopeless, forgetting I had to clear the idea with my parents.

So I told them I wanted to talk to my parents about it alone. I don’t know that their presence would have hurt, necessarily, but I didn’t think it would have helped. For starters, I had Brad to contend with, and between his hair that was to his shoulders and the half-sleeve tattoo started on his arm, dad wouldn’t care for that and would have serious reservations about the kind of boys I would be hanging with. And if Brad got that look in his eye like he did for just that moment at lunch, the one where I knew he could remember what I felt like under my shirt while grinding into him…well, then, my dad would say no on principle. Ethan and Zane weren’t much better. In fact, Nick would probably be the only one of the bunch that my dad would look at and think was a “nice kid.” But Nick probably wouldn’t say a word…and silence wouldn’t help either.