Authors: Tara Kelly
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Social Issues, #Friendship, #Performing Arts, #Music
“This Saturday?” Felix’s eyes widened.
“Bryn,” Veta began. “I—”
“Here!” Bryn broke in. “We’re doing a casual show here—in our studio. And then I’m throwing an after-party.”
“But I have a date with Samantha,” Felix said.
“So invite her and go out after,” Bryn said.
“Isn’t Newton’s Whore playing the Roach on Saturday?” Sean asked.
“Yep,” Bryn said. “Perfect night for a party, huh? Luna’s Temptation being in town and all?”
“Oh, Bryn,” Veta said. “You’re pure evil, you know that?”
Bryn gave her innocent eyes. “What? I throw good parties.”
Those pesky knots started forming in my stomach again. “Luna’s Temptation is coming
here
?” I asked.
Bryn nodded. “It was Ajay’s idea. He thought it would be cool to drop by and see us practice. Like I said, it’ll be a casual thing. Just a couple of songs.”
“Great,” I said.
“It wasn’t like I could say no.”
I knew he was right. You didn’t say no to a band like Luna’s Temptation—even if they wanted you to play in your underwear.
“You got through your first show—which is huge,” Veta said. “It will get easier. You’re already improving.”
“I just hope I don’t psych myself out again,” I said.
Bryn shot me an annoyed look. “Then don’t.”
“Don’t overthink it. You’ll drive yourself nuts,” Sean said.
“I’m warning you guys now,” Veta said. “If Zia shows up, I might be forced to have a total fan-girl moment.”
“Samantha says she’s straight,” Felix said.
Veta waved him off. “Everyone thinks they know who Zia is, but nobody really does.”
“Ajay said she shows up to practice in her pajamas,” Bryn added.
Maybe I could learn a little something from the lead singer of Luna’s Temptation. She sounded like my kind of girl.
Sean and I barely spoke on the way to the auto shop. He’d cranked up “Frozen” by Celldweller, which reminded me of early Nine Inch Nails. A sexy bass line slithered behind breathy male vocals and a distorted riff weaved in and out, adding texture.
After we parked, Sean turned the ignition off, but he didn’t make a move to get out. “You got any plans tonight?” His tone was a little too casual, like we were work buddies or something.
“No. You?”
“I’m thinking popcorn and
Grosse Pointe Blank.
”
I tried to contain my goofy grin. “Me and Jason worship that movie.”
“Yeah? I’ve probably seen it a hundred times.” He drummed his steering wheel. “You want to watch it with me?”
My rational side told me this was a bad idea. But how could I resist Sean
and
John Cusack? “I’d like that.”
Sean smiled, reaching for his door handle. “Cool.”
We got out and exchanged payment and keys without saying much more.
The steering wheel of the Jetta felt cold and foreign, and the engine was quieter than I remembered. Even the smell was different, mustier somehow. All my memories in this car were with Jason and my dad, my old life. A life I could never drive back to. It made me a little sick inside. With sadness, though—not regret.
I pulled up along the curb and followed Sean inside the house, wondering where we were going to see the movie. Downstairs was the safest bet, but I kind of hoped for his cramped room—maybe cuddling on his bed.
Bad idea, Jasmine. Bad.
I leaned against the island as he put a popcorn bag in the microwave. It looked like the movie theater–butter kind, my favorite.
“You can go on up to my room and stake out a spot,” he said.
“Oh—we’re going to watch it up there?” I had to at least
act
like I wasn’t thinking about it.
“Yeah, I told you—all my movies are downloaded on my computer.” He shook his head. “Actually, you probably don’t remember. You were drunk.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
He turned his attention to the inflating bag in the microwave. The smooth scent of butter teased my nostrils all the way up the stairs. The loft was quiet and dark, but I doubted Felix or Bryn had gone to bed.
I slipped inside Sean’s room, pondering where to sit. The bed seemed too forward—like I was saying, “Hey, let’s hook up.” The chairs were too distant, definitely not convenient for popcorn passing. Maybe scooting a chair next to the bed would do the trick. Friendly, but not within kissing distance.
Sean pushed the door open, a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two small bottles of cherry cola tucked under his arm. “Still contemplating where to sit?”
“No, I was just checking out your fish…posters.”
“Right.” He set the bowl and drinks on his bed and went over to his computer.
Oh, screw it.
I sat on his bed against the headboard, cross-legged and folding my arms. Didn’t want to take up too much space.
Sean propped his pillow and slid in next to me, moving the bowl between us. We both smirked at the opening scene, where John Cusack’s character, a hit man, argues with his nutty secretary over an invitation to his high school reunion. She wants him to go. He wants no part of it.
Our hands bumped inside the bowl, and we took turns peeking at each other. I wanted to get the popcorn out of the way and tackle him. But I kept reminding myself of the many reasons why I shouldn’t.
Halfway through the movie, I laid back against the pillow, stretching out my numb legs.
Sean held up the bowl. “You done?”
When I nodded, he leaned over me and set the bowl on the floor. His arm touched my thighs, sending warm tickles all the way down to my toes.
“Excuse you,” I said.
He sat back up, smiling down at me. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, right.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
He raised an eyebrow.
Then we just stared at each other for a minute, ignoring the voices coming from his computer speakers. He brought his face toward mine and I inhaled, wanting nothing more. As soon as our lips touched, all rational thought disappeared.
Sean seemed to know what I liked—not too much tongue and no cheesy moves. Some guys tried too hard, period. Not that I’d kissed many.
He pulled back. “I thought we could at least get through an entire movie.”
“You started it.”
“I can stop.”
“Do you want to?”
“No,” he whispered, running a finger along my cheek. “But…”
“But?”
“You know this is a really bad idea, right?” His mouth inched closer to mine.
Yes, but did I care at the moment? Not really. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Hang on a sec.” He climbed over me and walked to his computer, stopping the movie. He pulled up the iTunes window and clicked on a playlist. The violins in Björk’s “Jóga” filled the room, playing a soft, rich melody.
The song was perfect—a little too much so. He moved back alongside me, propping himself up on his elbow.
“Slick,” I said. “Is this your hook-up playlist?”
He grinned, cupping my face. “Shut up.”
Our lips melted together and our movements mirrored the song, building in urgency and then slowing down again. I rolled on top of him, my eyes fluttering shut as his hands ran up my thighs and followed the curve of my back. He pulled my shirt over my head, and I returned the favor. Goose bumps spread across my exposed skin, but my chest felt warm against his.
Sean ended up on top of me again, kissing his way down my neck, my chest, my stomach. It tickled and sent my heart pounding. His fingers teased the skin underneath the waistband of my jeans and he looked up at me, as if asking for permission.
Jason said the first orgasm you have with another person changes
everything
. And I’d never even had sex—of any kind. The closest I’d ever come was Eric Lamberti sticking his hand down my jeans in his stuffy Volvo. It wasn’t pleasant. At all.
But I was curious. Really curious.
I unbuttoned my jeans and Sean slid them off, leaving me in nothing but black underwear and a bra. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d shaved. Yesterday, I thought.
Please let it be yesterday
.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look freaked out.”
“I’ve never had sex.” Shit. Did I have to blurt it out like that?
His hand tensed on my arm, and his eyes looked uncertain, like he didn’t know quite what to say.
“Not that I thought we were going to have sex,” I rambled on. “It’s just—I haven’t done the in-between stuff either.”
His brow crinkled. “The in-between stuff?”
“You know—more than making out, but not actual intercourse—sex.” What was I—twelve?
His lips twitched.
“Don’t laugh,” I said.
“I’m not—you’re just cute.”
I winced. “Shut up.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “I meant it as a compliment. Honest.”
“I’m assuming you and Amy have…um…” Why did this feel so awkward? I had no problem talking about this stuff with Jason.
“What?” He tried to hold back a smile, but it didn’t work.
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you asking if we had actual-intercourse sex?”
I pushed him away, laughing. “Jerk.”
He moved onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” His expression turned serious. “Yeah—we did.”
“Was she your first?”
He nodded.
I folded my arms over my bare stomach, feeling cold. “Do you miss her?”
“Sometimes,” he said softly.
“I figured.” My voice came out angrier than I wanted it to. He was just being honest.
He propped himself on his elbow again, peering down at me. “Not enough to want her back.”
Those gorgeous green eyes made me want to believe him. God, he was turning me into a mush ball.
Not
good. I pulled his face to mine, losing myself in the slow electronica song whispering in the background. A woman sang about falling hard—her voice a mix of innocence and passion. His fingers slipped under my bra and I found the zipper of his jeans.
He broke our kiss. “Maybe we should slow down.”
“Why?”
He hesitated, his eyes searching my face. “You’re a virgin for a reason, right?”
“I haven’t met anyone I liked that much.”
He combed his fingers through my hair. “Sounds like a good reason.”
“I’m not going to do anything with you I don’t want to do.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” I poked his mouth. “Now less talking, more kissing.”
He smiled and brought his lips to a spot just beneath my earlobe, making me shiver. “That better?” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, murmuring something resembling “yes.”
Sean’s mouth found mine again, and his hand slid up my thigh. My damp palms glided against his skin, making his muscles tense. I kissed him harder, my breaths coming out in short bursts. All I could think about was this moment—his warmth and the taste of his lips. How I didn’t want it to end.
What felt like hours later, we spooned under his covers, our fingers laced together. His slow breaths tickled my ear—he’d already fallen asleep.
My virginity was still intact, but I felt different. There was this deep tickle inside my stomach, the kind I got when a song found me. Every now and then I’d be messing around on my guitar, and the right notes would merge together, creating something incredible. Something I never knew I was capable of.
Unfortunately, a lot of those songs were like comets—they’d light up my world for a night and be gone when I woke up.
My schedule
for the rest of the week went like this: Work. Eat. Practice until after midnight. Sneak in a few kisses with Sean. Sleep.
Despite this, Saturday came way too soon. Tina let us off work early, because Bryn demanded that we have another practice before
the
practice. He was probably more nervous than I was, which didn’t exactly make me feel better.
Sean and I sat on my balcony, slurping down bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, while Felix and Veta hogged the bathroom and prettied each other up. Veta was on makeup job #4 last I’d checked. Bryn paced around the loft, arguing with someone on his cell. He kept saying things like “chill” and “No, I didn’t.”
“You doing okay?” Sean asked.
I swallowed a mushy bit of cereal. “I could use a real dinner.”
He grinned. “There’s always Felix’s baguette.”
“Yeah, we’d need a saw to cut it.” None of us were very good at grocery shopping, especially this week. And Bryn said he’d tackle anyone who tried to eat the food he’d bought for the party.
“You impressed Bryn last night,” Sean said before slurping the rest of his milk.
“That’s funny. All I remember is him bitching about that part I added to ‘Puppet Girl’—or maybe that was Thursday. I can’t remember. Sleep deprivation and all.”
He draped his arms over his knees, looking out at the water. “He said, ‘Jasmine actually seemed like part of the band tonight.’” A smile twitched at his lips. “Then he questioned his sanity.”
“Lovely.” I shook my head. “It’s a step, I guess.”
“You’re going to be fine tonight.” He massaged the back of my neck, working his way across my shoulders.
I tilted my head forward and closed my eyes. “Keep doing that and I’ll buy anything you say.”
“Really?”
I elbowed him. “Don’t get any ideas.”
We still hadn’t talked about us, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. How did one say, “I know you just went through a messy breakup and Bryn would kill us, but would you ever consider being my boyfriend? Not now, of course. In the future. The
near
future, maybe. Because I’m really starting to like you. A lot.”
It embarrassed me that the
b
word was even entering my thoughts. I’d done fine without one for seventeen—almost eighteen—years. But I was tired of being the girl to kiss and forget. I wanted something real. I wanted to matter.
My bedroom door opened and footsteps padded across the carpet. Veta appeared on the balcony, staring down at us, her eyebrows raised.
“What?” Sean asked.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Must you two be so obvious?”
“He’s just helping me relax,” I said.
Her lips quirked up. “Oh yeah? Bryn looks like he could use a little relaxation.” She winked at Sean. “Maybe you can help him out too.”
Sean dropped his hand. “Har, har.”
Veta flipped her hair back and did a little turn. “What do you think, Jasmine? Too much?” She had on a short black dress with thigh-highs and tall boots. The term Dominatrix Barbie came to mind. Zia, gay or straight, would surely notice.
“You look hot,” I said.
She grinned like she knew it. I had to admire confidence like that. “Now we just have to do you.”
“No.” This time I’d be playing as myself—faded Taylor tee, ponytail, and all.
Her lower lip stuck out. “Not even your hair? We could do little buns on the sides—you’d look so pretty.”
“She looks pretty now,” Sean said.
I shot him an appreciative smile but hoped it didn’t show the giddiness I felt inside.
Veta sneered at him. “I never said she didn’t.”
“You guys ready?” Bryn hollered from the loft.
“Yeah!” Veta called back, and then groaned. “God, I hope Zia shows up.”
I did too. Although, I was pretty nervous to meet her and the rest of the band. What if they were total pricks?
Luna’s Temptation said they’d drop by around seven. It was seven thirty. And Newton’s Whore was supposed to go on at nine, according to Bryn.
The five of us plus Samantha sat on the floor of the studio, gulping water and munching on a bag of cheese puffs. It was meant for the party, but Bryn got hungry and let us chow down. Practice had gone as well as it could. Minimal arguing that was mostly between Bryn and Felix. Bryn still hated the “mosquito tone” synth in “Acceleration.”
Felix and Samantha huddled in a corner together, whispering and giving each other little pecks. It was really adorable, but I couldn’t help feeling envious. Sean and I kept exchanging these smiles through practice. All I wanted to do was run my fingers through his hair and kiss him.
“You did tell them to come back here and not the main house, right?” Veta asked.
Bryn rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. And Ajay has my cell.”
“When was the last time you heard from him?” Veta asked.
“Still yesterday, Veta. That hasn’t changed in the last hour,” Bryn said before cramming a handful of cheese puffs into his mouth.
“What exactly did he say?” she continued.
“I didn’t memorize the e-mail.” His words were distorted by chewing.
“She wants to know if Zia is coming,” Sean said, a smirk twitching at his lips.
“Ajay said he and Nile were coming for sure—that’s all I know.”
Nile Morel, the brooding keyboardist, was considered by many to be the male eye candy of Luna’s Temptation because of his long brown hair, angular jaw, and lanky frame. A couple of Jason’s goth friends were obsessed with him and plastered pictures of him all over their desktops and bedroom walls. I couldn’t imagine him standing in
this
stuffy little studio. Maybe that was why they hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t supposed to happen.
Bryn’s cell phone started blasting “Dance Hall Girl”—one of Luna’s Temptation’s most popular songs. We all kind of froze, looking wide-eyed at one another. Were they here?
Bryn fumbled for his phone and nearly dropped it. “Hello?” His eyes flicked to the door of the studio. “Don’t worry about it, man. We’re just hanging out.”
“Are they coming?” Veta whispered.
Bryn put his hand up, looking down at his feet. “Yeah. Okay. Sounds good.”
“Is Zia coming?” Veta continued.
He waved her off. “All right, later.”
“Well?” Veta’s hazel eyes bugged out.
“They got caught in traffic and Ajay got hungry.” Bryn stuffed his phone in his pocket. “They’re about five minutes out.”
Sean and I exchanged an uneasy look. Was this really happening?
“And
they
would be?” Veta asked.
“Obsessed much?” Bryn asked, standing and crumpling the bag of cheese puffs.
Felix laughed. “Do you have to ask?”
Samantha squealed in the corner, her cherubic face stretching in a wide grin. “I can’t wait!”
Felix gave her a kiss on the cheek.
The rest of us stood, all looking around like we suddenly didn’t know what to do first. My hands shook and my heart thudded.
Sean came up behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll play next to you if you want.”
I leaned toward his ear. “I might like that a little too much.”
He grinned. “That’s the idea.”
Veta cleared her throat as she walked past, giving us a warning look. We pulled apart and kept ourselves busy, tuning our instruments and checking equipment. As if we hadn’t already set everything up.
The studio door opened what could’ve only been a couple of minutes later. Samantha crouched down next to me, Felix put his fingernails in his mouth, Veta stood taller, and my hands tensed around my guitar. At least I was only slightly nauseated this time.
Three people walked in. Ajay, the drummer, was the shortest of the bunch, not much taller than me. Jagged dark bangs framed his face, but his hair was short and spiky in the back. He nodded and waved at us before leaning against the wall.
Nile, the keyboardist, moved in next to him, his steely eyes settling on me. His stare seemed to burn through his pictures, but the in-person effect was even more intense.
I turned my attention to Zia, who loomed by the door. She looked almost angelic with wispy bleached hair, big blue eyes, and a white crocheted dress that fanned out over her legs. Veta gawked at her, a dopey grin on her face.
Bryn gave Ajay and Nile “guy” handshakes. “What’s up?”
“This place is dope,” Ajay said. “How much rent do you pay for that view?”
Bryn shrugged and laughed it off. “Enough, man. Enough.”
Veta and Sean exchanged a smirk.
“I, like,
love
you guys,” Samantha blurted out, standing up. “It’s so cool to meet you.”
Zia responded with a cool nod, while Ajay and Nile gave her polite smiles. Samantha took this as license to bound up to them and start gushing over their last show. Bryn shot Felix a death glare—as if Felix had control over the situation.
Samantha pulled out her cell phone and started snapping pictures of Ajay and Nile. Zia ducked outside, like this was all too much for her. She hadn’t said a word since she got here—which made her either shy or a total diva. Hard to tell which.
“Bryn looks like he’s about to shit glass,” Sean whispered in my ear.
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.
“Felix.” Bryn clenched his teeth.
“What can I do?” Felix mouthed.
Bryn threw his hands up, as if he were saying, “Grow a pair!”
“Um—hey, Sammy?” Felix called in a too-soft voice.
When she didn’t respond, Bryn put a firm hand on her shoulder. “We need to get started, okay? They’ve got a show to get to.”
“Oh.” Samantha covered her mouth. “Sorry. I’ll just, um…I’ll go outside and let Zia know.”
“Don’t—” Bryn started, but she was already out the door. “Sorry about that,” he said to Ajay and Nile.
Nile chuckled—it came from deep in his chest, like he meant it. His eyes rested on me again. “That’s a sweet ax.”
My lips stuck together, preventing me from saying “thank you.” Nile Morel was speaking to
me
. How was this happening? I stretched my mouth up, hoping it resembled a smile.
Bryn grabbed his sticks and plopped in front of his drum kit, while Ajay checked Veta out and whispered something to Nile.
Sean leaned into my ear again. “Is Nile making you tongue-tied?”
I gave him my best
whatever
look.
“Thought so,” he muttered, focusing on his bass.
“Should we wait for Zia to come back?” Veta asked, lowering her guitar strap over her shoulders.
“She’ll probably come back when she hears the music,” Ajay said. “Conversation—when she’s not in the mood—makes her
wander
.” He exchanged a knowing grin with Nile.
Veta cocked her head. “Wander?”
Nile answered this time. “Yeah. She calls it refueling or some shit. Sometimes she’ll just disappear in the middle of a conversation. Don’t take offense—it’s not personal. Zia is just…”
“Zia.” Ajay chuckled.
I wondered if she regularly did that to fans. Then again, it probably didn’t matter. They were Luna’s Temptation. She could flip everyone off at a show and people would give the gesture some deep artistic meaning.
We’d decided to start with “Back-Seat Love Affair” this time. Veta figured something hard and catchy would get their attention, especially my Bond-like guitar part. They were counting on me to nail it—which I had no problems with during regular practice. Unfortunately, my mind kept focusing on who was standing against that wall, watching.
A thick drum loop started up, calling for my lick. I closed my eyes and let the rhythm seep inside me and take over my hands. But I didn’t let myself breathe until I joined Veta with the power chords leading up to the first verse.
When I opened my eyes, Sean smiled at me and leaned back with his bass, tapping his boot like this was the most casual thing ever. I followed his lead and let my head bob to Bryn’s beat. I didn’t care how dumb I looked—better to get lost in the moment than to hesitate and screw up.
Veta swayed in front of the mic, her voice breathy and controlled. “Come into my little world. Where twilight reigns and kisses taste like novocaine.”
Zia had managed to sneak in without me noticing. She stood next to Nile, focusing on Veta. Her expression was completely neutral—almost aloof. Eyes that expressed interest, but not too much. Mouth set in a calm line—not smiling or frowning. I wondered if she practiced that look in the mirror.
Veta widened her stance, taking us into the chorus. “Back-seat love affair, with that leather stare. Hardened ecstasy. You’ll never come down.” Her voice was spot-on tonight—with just enough grit to cut through our distorted guitars.
I caught Nile’s gaze and the corner of his mouth perked up. An icy feeling ran through my veins—was he laughing at me? Did I look really dumb? Did I play a sour note?
Sean pressed his arm into mine, and the friction of his movement awakened my every nerve. I closed my eyes, forgetting everything but his warmth and the familiar smell of his skin, a mix of citrusy deodorant, cars, and sweat. His fast and steady bass line hummed through me, and I moved with him, my fingers sliding between the twelfth and fourteenth frets.
Sean’s lips brushed against my ear. “Nice.” He moved away, picking the frantic bass notes of the bridge.
Veta rocked back and forth, her sultry vocals turning into a snarl of rage and desire. “Come on, ride with me. We’ll strip off our masks and leave no regrets.”
I wanted to go to this place Veta sang about—a place where I was free to be me. Where I could love without consequence. Just for a little while. Long enough to impress the hell out of Luna’s Temptation, at least.
I tipped my head back, inhaling everything around me—the heat, the growl of our guitars, Sean’s steady rhythm and presence, Felix’s squealing synth and goofy grin, and Bryn’s no-nonsense beat. My fingers glided right into my solo just like they used to in Jason’s garage. The melody screamed everything I felt—excitement, uncertainty…lust.
Veta faced me with a grin, chugging out a fast and tight riff. She let her eyes drift to the ceiling as if she were getting lost herself. I played off her energy—even adding in a couple of unexpected notes. There was this incredible sense of power brewing inside of me. I bent the last note, letting it build in the air like a siren.