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I lower my
eyes in question—he’ll be fine. Before I can pry out a meaning in that statement, though, Rag pulls into the driveway in a Camaro. It was his I saw the other day. Jesse walks over to his cousin and they give each other a half-hug.
“Sorry I’m late. My class doesn’t get out until six-thirty on Mondays.” Rag reaches for my hand then pulls me up from my seat into an awkward bro-hug before letting go. That’s my first one of those. I hope I did it right.
“What class?” I’ve figured out that he probably goes to college nearby, because that’s the only way he’s not at Vista High but also close enough to drop in for jam sessions. He’s too together to be a drop-out.
“Anthropology,” he grins.
“Dumbass wants to be a professor,” Jesse says through a breath of a laugh. He moves to his guitar case, flipping it open and pulling it out to tune.
“If I were a dumbass I wouldn’t have a shot in hell at doing this, or getting my tuition for free, so I’m pretty sure it’s gonna happen.”
He stares his cousin down until Jesse looks up.
“Oh, huh? Were you still talking to me?”
Rag grimaces and flips Jesse off before walking back to his car and opening the trunk. He gets his guitar case and rests it on the stack of boxes near my jacket, stopping before he pulls his guitar out completely to point at the pin on my jacket pocket.
“That’s Mott the Hoople.”
My lip quirks. It’s rare that someone else knows who that is.
“All the Young Dudes,” I say.
“Shiiiiit.” Rag drags the word out, pulling his strap over his neck and holding his pick between his lips as his eyes pass mine then move to Jesse.
“She’s cool, yeah?” Jesse’s eyes flash wide for just a second.
Rag pulls the pick from his lips and strums a few times.
“Yeah…she’s cooler than you.” Rag points at Jesse and flips him off again.
“Everyone’s cooler than me, I thought,” Jesse says, winking at me, and in the process making my arms go completely numb.
I’m cool.
He winked at me.
They both like me here.
I’m playing…with a band.
Oh fuck…Chris will be fine.
This is an audition.
I bite onto the inside of my right cheek and glance from Rag to Jesse, neither of them paying attention to me while they tune. My lips part to announce my discovery, but I decide that it’s better this way—better pretending I’m in the dark. I’m just not sure if I should blow this or kill it. I’m not sure what I want. Do I want to be in a band?
Yeah. I’ve always wanted to be in a band.
But do I want to be in a band with Jesse? That’s the catch here. And it’s just a catch for me. I’m the silly girl with a crush.
“Ready?” Jesse’s eyes get soft as they land on me.
I take a deep breath and blow so my cheeks puff out and lips get wider.
“Sure,” I say with a shake of my head. My hair is pulled up into a pile on top of my head and my legs are free in my leggings, a strategic move so I could feel the beat and keep time. I’m not a headbanger like Chris, but I like to get into it. I get into it the right way.
