I want to be angry with her for telling me to do things I don’t want to, but I can’t. “Thank you, Lea,” I say, following her out the door. “But I still think you’re lying to me about where you’re going tonight.”
“Think what you want.” She grins in response. “Totally off the subject, but can I borrow your car, in just a bit, for a couple of hours?”
I think about telling her no unless she’ll fess up to where she’s really going, but I’m not that big a bitch. “Sure, but you’ll have to drop me off at practice and then pick me up afterward.”
She frowns, because she hates taking me to practice. She actually probably would have been in my band if she hadn’t broken the heart of Jaxon, the lead singer. “Fine, but I’m staying in the car.”
“That sounds good to me,” I tell her. “But then again, it’s totally okay for you to come in and say hi. In fact, I know Jaxon would love it.”
“Nova, I love you to death, but you need to get over the idea of Jaxon and me ever getting together again.”
“I am over the idea, but at the same time, if you guys get back together I wouldn’t mind.”
“We won’t get back together. Ever,” she says, frustrated. “Seriously, Nova. You need to let go of the past… this is why I don’t tell you stuff.” Then she hurries down the hallway and leaves me standing there with her words replaying in my mind.
Getting stuck in the past is an issue I’ve struggled with for quite a while. I have a hard time letting go. I thought I was getting better, though, but she pretty much just threw in my face that I’m not.
I try to decide whether I should go out and tell Tristan there will be no more forehead kisses or lap-sitting. But after lurking in the hallway for a moment, I decide to go back into my room and get ready for band practice, even though it’s not for a few hours, because I’m a big chicken who’s not ready for confrontation at the moment.
* * *
Thankfully, band practice gives me time away from my thoughts. After an hour of playing, I feel good. And the amazing feeling only increases after we’re done playing. I’m bouncing up and down like a little kid strung out on candy as I’m informed that my band got a gig. And not just any gig, but one where we get to open for Peaceful Injustice, one of my favorite indie rock bands of all time, next weekend on New Year’s eve. Jaxon announces this to us in the garage of his house, the place where we practice because we’re all broke students and can’t afford to rent a studio space.
Jaxon is a pretty good-looking guy, if you like that whole mysterious rock-star look. He’s tall and kind of lanky with dark brown hair that hangs in his eyes, but in an intentional kind of way. He’s dressed head to toe in black today, with a studded belt, boots, and leather bands on his arms.
“So what do you think?” Jaxon asks me after he’s made the epic announcement.
I tuck my drumsticks into the back pocket of my jeans as I search the garage for where I left my jacket. “I think it rocks. But what I’m wondering is how the hell you managed to get them to let us open for them.”
“He’s got connections,” Spalding calls out as he unplugs his guitar from the amp. He’s got longer hair, too, like Jaxon, only his is jet black. He has a pierced eyebrow and colorful artwork is tattooed all over his arms to create full sleeves. He’s got gauges in his ears and he’s also wearing all black, but that’s normal for him.
Nikko snorts a laugh as he puts his guitar away. He’s got short hair that sort of spikes up at the top and his eyes are crazy intense because if you stare at them long enough they almost look gold. His taste in clothes is a little bit more eccentric. Right now he’s wearing this bright-red fitted shirt and these baggy black pants with zippers and buckles all over the front. His black boots have gray skeletons on them and his fingernails are black. He’s the baby of the group, only eighteen; he’s also Jaxon’s cousin.
“The only reason we got the gig is because Jaxon hung out with Stella.” Nikko laughs under his breath and then sticks out his tongue, making an obscene gesture with his fingers, and Spalding rolls his eyes.
“Children.” Spalding shakes his head and I laugh. Spalding’s twenty-two, but he acts like he’s thirty, which from the tidbits of information I picked up from Jaxon is because he became the legal guardian of his sister when he was eighteen. I’m not sure why, though, and I don’t have the lady balls to ask because, more than likely, there’s a tragic story behind it.
“Shut the f**k up,” Nikko says hotly as he picks up a bottle of water from the top of one of the speakers. “You’re only four years older than me, dumbass.” He takes a swig of the water and then sets it back down.
They start arguing and I turn to Jaxon as I pick up my jacket up off the floor in the corner of the garage. “So did you get the gig because of Stella?” I dare ask. Stella is the owner of Black & Red Ink, the place where we’ll be playing, and a very popular club in the potato state.
He shakes his head, getting a little bit uneasy as he pretends to search for something behind the freezer. “No… well, yeah, I mean she’s how I got the gig, but I didn’t like sleep with her or anything.” He turns in a circle as he looks around at the floor. “Have you seen my cell phone?”
“Yeah… it’s in your hand.” I hate the awkwardness between us, but until Lea and he can come to terms with their breakup, I think it’ll always be there, especially since I have a hunch she was out on a date earlier today.
He glances down at the phone in his hand and then shakes his head. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired or something.”
I offer him a smile. “Yeah, it happens sometimes.” I slip my arms through the sleeves of my jacket and then take the drumsticks from my pocket. “So what time are we practicing tomorrow?”
“About six,” he says, checking his cell phone screen. “I know we usually do it earlier, but I have to go out with the family for an early Christmas dinner.”
“Early Christmas dinner?” I ask as I zip up my jacket. “But Christmas is in three days, so why don’t they just wait two extra days?”
“Yeah. I’m going to be gone for Christmas and my parents think they need to have an early one for me,” he says. “I’m flying out to New York with Spalding to hang with his family for the holidays.”