Bullet(8)

But before he was fully in her hug, Ethan was already driving down the block where he turned the corner. A few more blocks and we reached his house, a two-story brick home that had to be decades old. It didn’t appear to be rundown, just older. Once we got out of his truck, I enjoyed the feeling of stretching my legs a bit. Ethan reached in the back of the truck and grabbed both his luggage and mine. He said, “I guess mom’s not back from work yet.” I followed his eyes to the driveway and figured out his mother’s car was missing.

He handed me my suitcase, and we walked up to the door. Once inside, I looked around and fell in love with it. Just seeing the house made me love his mother. The place was decorated in warm, rich earth tones and velvety furniture. The wood used for end tables and the coffee table was probably mahogany, polished to a gleaming shine, and the sofa and chairs were a deep rich burgundy. I stood in the doorway for a few seconds just taking it all in when Ethan said, “Come on. I’ll show you around.” We walked through the kitchen and he asked, “Want something to eat?” I shook my head and followed him up a stairway at the back of the kitchen.

We walked down a hall into his bedroom. I dropped my suitcase just inside the doorway, not sure where to put it but definitely tired of carrying it. “Like it?” Like it?—I loved it because the room felt like Ethan. It wasn’t as big as our dorm rooms, but it was decent sized (and made for one guy). There were posters of some of my favorite rock bands on the walls, but also one with cars, and another two with nameless girls in bathing suits trying to look sexy. There were so many posters, I could hardly see the walls. A double bed took the back and center position right below a large window, a television directly across from it, and an electric guitar in a corner. My eyes riveted on that guitar and everything else in that room became background. I could only nod my head to Ethan’s last question. I knew he had a guitar at school too, a red-toned beauty, but this one was understated. It was shiny and black, completely black, from the strap pin on the body all the way to—and including—the head stock. It was one of the loveliest guitars I’d ever seen. Of course, I realized it was also because it appeared to be Ethan’s pride and joy. I walked over to it and squatted down on my haunches so I could really appreciate it.

Ethan was right behind me. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Want me to play you a few chords?” I nodded, excited, but then I heard his cell phone ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He smiled. “Hold on a sec.” He answered the phone. “Hey, dude. How’s it going?” He paused, and I felt a little uncomfortable just watching him talk on the phone. I needed to find the restroom too, so I walked over to the doorway and peeked out. I knew there had to be a bathroom up there somewhere, so I walked down the hall toward the mostly likely area. I could hear him talking and his voice moved with him, probably curious about what I was doing. He said, “You know that friend I told you about?” There was another pause on the line, and I didn’t plan to hear anymore as I’d found the restroom. By the time I was done, he was off the phone. I found him in his room again, and this time he was cradling that guitar on his lap, striking its strings. It was electric, though, and there was no amp nearby, so I could barely hear what he was playing. “That was Brad on the phone. He’s part of the band, and we’ll be going to his house tonight.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to seem too eager but, God, was I.

He got some sandwich supplies out of the fridge, and we made ourselves a couple of sandwiches. Then he switched on the television and started flipping through channels. “Mind if I do a little studying?” I asked. I was going to kick myself if I failed all my exams, just because I had to follow Ethan.

“Go ahead,” he said, and I set up shop at the kitchen table where I was less likely to be distracted by either the TV or the boy. And I studied hard until a while later, when Ethan came in the kitchen and asked to borrow a piece of my notebook paper. He wrote a note to his mom since she still hadn’t returned from work, and then we left so I could meet the band.

* * *

“Valerie, right? Ethan’s told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.” Well, if that wasn’t flattering and didn’t just make me feel like the belle of the ball, nothing would. Brad Payne, Ethan’s best friend, was a sweet guy who had an eye for the girls (at least that’s how Ethan had described him long before I had the chance to meet him and make a judgment for myself). He was taller than Ethan, though not much, with shiny black hair, longer than any of the other guys in the band. And his eyes were dark, full of secrets…but those secrets didn’t feel sinister, not at all. The way his lips looked like they were going to twitch up in a smile at any given second made me feel like his secrets were fun…and like he wanted to share them with me. Brad…he could almost make me forget about Ethan. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, so I was able to see he had half a sleeve of a tattoo on his right arm. He was already working on looking like a rock star. And he probably worked out. That much I could tell. He grabbed my hand to shake it and said, “Like the ink?”

Oh, God. I could feel the red heat rising from my neck as it spread to my cheeks. But I’d already been caught staring. “Yeah.” Might as well be honest, right?

Ethan had already plugged his guitar into the desk-sized amp and was tuning it, and Zane wasn’t far behind. So Brad, not letting go of my hand, mind you, led me over to the drums where Nick already sat. But he was on his phone, watching a video or something. He was a quiet guy but nice. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, and an almost shy demeanor. But I could tell even then that he was just as enthusiastic about the band as the rest of them, maybe even more so, because his work on the drums could speak for itself. He didn’t need to say a word, instead having to simply beat out a rhythm that anyone’s primal self could enjoy and get lost in.

I didn’t understand at first how they all fit together, but Brad had already strapped on a guitar as well, after finding me a lawn chair to sit on in the chilly garage. They had a couple of space heaters working double time, and I figured that was what kept the space bearable, but it certainly wasn’t cozy. Brad was determined to keep a conversation going with me, even if the other guys were already drowning in their own little rock worlds. “Ethan and I both play guitar, and he does a lot of the lead vocals, but I sing some too.” He winked. “It’s good for me.” He leaned over, ready to spill one of his secrets. “Ethan’s voice is probably better than mine, but we both suck...at least when it comes to clean vocals. The good music makes up for it, though. We’re a great team on guitars.” Brad starting tuning his guitar as well, but instead of not paying attention to me, he faced me. Yeah, he was focusing on his guitar, but I could tell he wasn’t completely ignoring me either.

I looked over at Ethan. Yeah, right now, I didn’t exist to him. Only his guitar held any meaning in that moment. So I’d let Brad give me all the attention he wanted. He said, “We started out by doing mostly covers, but we’ve written four or five of our own songs. We’ve played small places, but I think once we have a big repertoire of music, we’ll feel better about booking bigger venues.” I nodded as though I knew exactly what he was talking about.

But I also knew I could get away with a lot with this guy standing in front of me. I already sensed that, and I planned to test my theory. “So do you guys actually play, or do you just stand around talking about it?”

Brad raised his eyebrows, a playful look spreading over his face, and he said, “Oh…” until the oh turned into laughter. Then he turned to his bandmates and said, “I think we have an impatient wannabe fan. Shall we, gentlemen?”

Ethan had a serious look on his face, and he nodded his head at Nick. Nick slid his phone in his pocket without hesitation and then tapped his drumsticks over his head, counting out loud, and then they began. I listened intently to the music, trying to identify if I knew the song or not, and concluded that this one must be original.

And I sat back and enjoyed the show. They played a few covers of songs I knew (from Trivium, Marilyn Manson, and Judas Priest), but I focused on their original music. Brad was right…neither he nor Ethan had honed their singing skills enough (and Ethan’s voice probably was better than Brad’s), but I thought they had potential. They could sound great. Music-wise, though, they were already incredible. They had a unique sound, driving and hard, relentless, and I knew they needed to be heard by a lot more people than just little ol’ me in Brad’s mom’s garage.

What shocked me, though, was my personal response to their show. Ethan was totally into his performance. It was almost as though he was only physically present. His mind was in some big arena or hiding in the recesses of his mind, but he wasn’t there with us. Fortunately, his physical self knew what to do. But Brad…holy cow. There was something about him, and he ignited a spark between us that night. He had a stage presence, a charisma that I didn’t think Ethan would ever have. Brad was charming, cute, and sexy as hell. And, since I was the only audience member, I was treated full on to his stage persona. And that’s what I mean about Ethan not being there. It was like he didn’t even notice while Brad seduced me from a couple of yards away. I almost wished I was the mike he was cozying up to. At first I didn’t give it much thought as I got lost in his enticing eyes and he pulled me in. I let him. I was drawn to him and immersed myself first in his voice, and then I couldn’t get the image out of my head of him and me making out in the backseat of a car somewhere. It was like Brad was a vampire, and he was in glamour mode. I was the helpless victim, willingly drawn to my demise.