Accidental Rock Star (20 page)

“Sure, we can lunch
under Li-War.”

“Nope. The last
Leithville girl has lost it under Li-War.” She held the pointy end
out and ran toward the brain.

Jab.

The baton hit the rough
canvas and popped out the other side of her fist, tumbling to the
turf.

Hunter jumped the baton
like it was a fumble. Jay tripped on his legs and the gelatin
flew.

Cold. Mushy. None of
them escaped. Lime gel slithered down her cheek and onto her neck.
A large cluster clumped on Baylee’s shoulder and a larger chunk
dripped from Jay’s left eyebrow.

Hunter’s skin was
speckled with it like green freckles. He rolled to his feet and
held out her conductor baton. “So I guess you’re just not that into
me, huh?”

Aria wrapped her
fingers around the baton, her rage gone. “Yeah. I like someone
else.”

***

Tyler crossed his
fingers and rang Baylee. “Hey, Baylee. Glad I could get
through.”

“We had to get our
number changed.”

“I got it from Marissa.
If I’d known my assistant didn’t send out the burner phones or give
you guys my details, I’d have called before now. She’s no longer my
assistant.”

“Oh?” Baylee seemed
barely interested.

“How is everybody?”

“Mom’s good. I’m
good.”

He waited. She said
nothing. “Everybody else?”

“All good. Not much
going on here. Same old, same old.”

He shifted. “How’s
Aria?”

“Keeping busy sorting
the new equipment and attention and all that. Kind of like us. I
signed for a box of steaks last night.”

His mouth watered.
“Damn. I wanted those to arrive while I was still there. I bet your
mom cooks a mean steak.”

“She does.” Her voice
sharpened. “You need to send someone to pick this stuff up.”

“Never going to
happen.” He made his voice firm.

“Tyler, we didn’t want
to get paid for helping you out.”

“I’m not paying you.”
Frustration bit through him. “Geez. And I’m not taking the stuff
back.”

“Then we’ll send it to
Marissa to give to you.”

“I’ll tell her not to
take it.”

Baylee made a hissing
sound.

He had to take control
before this spiraled, too. “I’m not okay, Baylee. I miss Aria. So,
you know, I’m asking. I’m asking you… how do I get her back? What
can I send her? What does Aria want? Like really want so I can get
it and win her back?”

Silence. Then Baylee
said, “It’s not about things, Tyler, and it’s not hard. She either
wants you or she doesn’t. She’s into you or she isn’t.”

Tyler didn’t want to
ask. “How do I know the answer to that?”

“Guess you gotta get
your ass back here and find out.”

Last game. Aria
adjusted the green blanket over her legs. Along with new summer-
and winter-weight uniforms, they’d gotten green lap blankets.
Basically, if a company made a band product, they’d gotten it:
sheets of music, instruments, backup instruments, accessories,
drink holders. This morning, three freaking travel buses showed up
in the school parking lot. Painted green, they were labeled
Marching Lizard Band 1, 2,
and
3
. They had leather
reclining seats and a sick sound system. On the dash of #1 was a
check big enough to cover the spring trip costs for all the
students in the band for the next four years. Basically, if you
were in the band when Tyler was, your trips were set. If Tyler’s
name came up, band members looked delirious. All band members but
her.

Director Garcia was on
a musical high. The staff praised him like he’d done this, and he
hadn’t taken a smoke break all week.

Aria leaned back on her
wrists and tried to stop thinking about Tyler—to get in the moment.
Last game. Bright stadium lights. Cold football weather. Packed
crowd. Peace with Hunter. This night was perfect, everything she
could want for the performance she’d been dreaming about for four
years. A performance to end all performances. A glorious memory for
when music was gone from her daily life.

Baylee shoved into her
shoulder and tugged on the collar of Aria’s new drum major uniform.
“Get out of your head, Aria. How do you like your stylin’ new
outfit?”

The new design rocked
and the lack of holes was a nice touch. “It fits.”

“I watched y’all’s
video on YouTube. I can’t believe how many hits it’s gotten.”

Millions. “That’s
because of Tyler.”

Baylee shrugged.
“Partly.

The memory of the
review gave her a lingering glow. She looked up at Dylan and Ethan.
Ethan was going on about something, gesturing with his drumsticks,
and Dylan was listening. She walked over to them, each step
accompanied by thoughts that sent a trillion scary drum beats off
in her chest. “Let’s keep When Worlds Appear going. Tyler’s gone,
but the three of us could do this.”

Ethan pumped his fist
in the air. “Hell yeah.”

“I mean, I don’t know
if it could work, or go anywhere with just the three of us,
but…”

Dylan held out his fist
for her to bump. The move felt good, heady, strong.

“Okay, then.” Aria
marched down to her spot and took her seat, feeling like she’d run
a lap. She thought about the possibilities until the need to
prepare the band for the half-time show pushed her out her seat.
Aria gave the signal and everyone marched down to the end zone
beside a patch-tongued, triple-strapped Li-War. She checked the
lines, almost feeling useless without broken instruments to adjust.
She patted Li-War’s side. Everything was in perfect order.
Excitement for the show stirred, breaking through the protective
bubble around her emotions. Tonight was their night.

The football team
jogged off the field for their halftime break.

Across the field, a low
rumble came.

A disruption.

No.

Aria ran to the end of
Li-War’s snout. A small entourage drove onto the track surrounding
the football field: two SUVs and, more bizarrely, two small
tractors pulling a cloth-draped stage, like the one they used for
graduation and the homecoming king and queen. They drove right up
on the field.

Helicopter blades
chopped into the night and a black helicopter came into view,
hovering over the fifty-yard line.

Several men lined up
along the track. Four other men drew the black sheet off the stage.
Underneath were three men: a drummer and two guitar players. The
side door on the helicopter opened. A cable dropped out.

Tyler.

She knew it was him
even from this distance. Excitement rushed through her.

Tyler swung down on the
cable, landing in the middle of the stage.

The audience chanted,
“Sax, Sax, Sax.”

Tyler grabbed the mic.
“Hey,” his voice boomed across the field. “It’s good to be
home.”

Female screams became
distinguishable above the rest of the noise, though everyone loved
his greeting.

“Will you let me play a
few songs for you?”

Affirmative
screams.

Tyler raised his hand
in the air and the opening notes of one of his smash singles
powered out.

Aria edged closer,
heart thudding against her chest, mind racing. She was half aware
of the band following her. The ten-yard line. The twenty. The
thirty. Tyler thought he could ignore her, not show up, and she’d
cave? One grand gesture would make up for it all?

Tyler sang.

The audience sang along
and Tyler played them, rolling the lyrics out, holding them just
long enough that the audience’s singing became a part of the
performance, enriching the night. He was a master.

The last notes died
out.

Tyler put his hand to
his ear and leaned out. “One more?”

They screamed.

“I dedicate this to a
night when worlds appeared.” The crowd roared.

They didn’t get the
reference. Aria did. Her heart raced harder and she moved closer,
vaguely conscious of Baylee, Ethan, and Dylan pacing alongside her
with the rest of the band following, until they all formed a kind
of mosh pit in front of the stage. The opening chords of a cello
sounded. Her heart stopped, and then pounded. Then the other
instruments joined in. The flavor was twangy, then rock, then the
lyrics. This was her favorite song newly melded into a country/rock
mash-up. It was incredible. And it wasn’t just the song. Tyler’s
perfect pitch singing enthralled her.

Her heart stopped
pounding and melted. This song was for one person. Her.

Tyler sang the final
note. His gaze landed on her and only her, tying her to the spot.
“Lastly, I want to introduce my new band.” Tyler broke eye contact
and waved at the screaming crowd. He shook hands with the three
guys behind him. “Thanks for filling in.” The guys climbed down and
got into one of the SUVs.

Tyler moved front and
center. “Ethan? Dylan?” Ethan bounded up the steps and gave Tyler a
one-armed hug accompanied by a back slap. The crowd screamed. Ethan
looked pale and excited.

Dylan was slower. He
took measured steps. The crowd screamed for him, too.

“Didn’t know if you
were going to make it,” Tyler said. She read his lips more than
heard his voice.

“I’m not a fool.” Dylan
slid onto the drum stool.

Her heart renewed
pounding, the sound thumping in her ears.

“Baylee.”

Baylee walked forward.
She shook her head at him and waved the flute. “You’re crazy,
Tyler.”

He snagged the end of
the flute, tugging until she climbed onto the stage. He gave her a
hug.

Aria watched it all, in
a kind of a shock.

Tyler stared down at
her. He took the mic. “And my bass player, Aria.”

Aria didn’t move. She
couldn’t move. The night had taken a surreal turn.

Tyler turned off his
mic and squatted down on the edge of the stage. He held out his
hand. “You already promised to be in a band with me. You’re not the
type to go back on your word.”

“Are
you
?” She
retreated. “You didn’t call.” She knew she was having this
conversation in front of thousands. All of whom would think she was
a fool, but this was a key moment. A moment where she gave in and
bowed down to him for the rest of the time she knew him, or a
moment where she took a stand.

Tyler looked pleading.
“I had my assistant send burner phones and my new number. But she
didn’t. I should have seen to it myself.”

Tyler jumped down from
the stage. The marching-band members nearest converged around him,
high-fiving him, patting his shoulder. Tyler slapped a few hands
but kept striding until he was right in front of her. “I thought
you were giving me the silent treatment.” He gestured to the cello.
“Did you like the song?”

Aria stopped backing
away. Her gaze flickered greedily over the cello. “I love the
song.”

Tyler grinned like that
was all he needed. He bent, hoisted her over his shoulder, and
climbed the steps to the stage. Her hat fell off. Her baton slid
free, hitting the steps. The crowd roared its approval. Tyler
grabbed the mic with her still over his shoulder. “And my reluctant
fifth member. Yep, I’m stealing your drum major. Aria Rachel
Harris.”

The crowd loved
that.

Tyler bent and put her
back on her feet, blocking her from the crowd. Blood rushed back
down from her face to the rest of her body.

Tyler put his mouth to
her ear. “Please, Aria. There’s only music if you’re here.”

His lips brushing over
her skin weakened her knees. His words strengthened her. This
feeling, being surrounded by the band, being close to Tyler. Music
about to flow. This was everything. “Yes.”

Tyler grinned a wild
grin, grabbed her and spun her. Her emotions matched his but she
made him put her down. The end-zone clock had ticked to zero and
reset to third quarter. And she still had a job to do. Aria broke
away from Tyler. “Dylan, give the signal to send the band
back.”

“You gonna let me jack
your show?” Tyler tilted his chin, challenging her not to let that
happen.

The audience was rapt.
The band were dressed perfectly, their shiny new instruments at the
ready. The scoreboard ticked further time off the clock. The
football team grew visible under Li-War’s snout, led by Hunter.
They were eager to run out and seize their field.

Li-War licked the air,
nodding at her.

Aria breathed in and
then out. She took the drumsticks from Dylan and gave three clicks.
The band stopped and turned to her in confusion. She held up her
thumb and forefinger in the shape of an L, the signal for the
Mighty Lizard fight song.

The band took position
and brought their instruments to the ready. Aria handed Dylan his
drumsticks. Tyler went down the steps, retrieved her baton, and
handed it up.

She raised it over her
head.

The cold night air
carried her hands higher, and she made the crisp, precise motions,
the strongest of her drum major career.

The new speakers
carried the perfect pure notes of eighty-seven musicians up to the
crowd. The audience hooked arms over each other’s shoulders in the
horizontal wave that marked the fight song’s chorus.

Delicious.

Bright lights.

Pure sound.

The audience clapped,
sang, and swayed. The football team formed a line and rocked
shoulder to shoulder. In that shared moment, they all got it—the
power of music to seal a bond.

She drew her fingertips
to a close, signaling the last note.

The crowd cheered for
the band, loudly, with sincerity, with appreciation.

Cheers for her band’s
hours and years of hard work. Tears bit her eyes, and she grinned
at Tyler before signaling to exit the field. The band marched.
Dylan and Ethan hung back to give Tyler a thumbs up and then jumped
down to follow their bandmates.