Bullet (6 page)

She packed a few things and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.  Can’t wait to have your
sicky-sweet cheerful shitty self out of my hair.”  She shoved past Ethan to the door.

Once the door slammed, Ethan put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me into an embrace.  What a strange evening.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, but I’m wondering what the hell just happened.”

“You guys fight a lot?”

“No, not really.  And I didn’t realize I drove her that crazy.”

Ethan chuckled.  “Guess you killed her with kindness.”
  I didn’t want to think about Charlotte anymore, especially since having my head up against his chest and his arms around my back was distracting the hell out of me.  He was quiet when he said, “I wonder where she’ll go.”

Why did he even care?  I shouldn’t have let that bother me, but it did.  Still, I didn’t plan to say anything about it.  “She’ll probably go to one of her boyfriends’
.  I really don’t care.”

“I should probably go.”  He pulled back a little to look me in the eye.  “You sure you’ll be all right?”

Without even thinking, I said, “Yeah.  I’ll probably have the best night’s sleep I’ve had since I got here.  I feel pretty good actually.”  But I felt like the worst was not yet over between Charlotte and me.  I knew that down to my bones.

“If you need anything, call me.  And I’ll call you tomorrow.”  He kissed me on the forehead, but why wouldn’t he just kiss me full on?

“Good night, Ethan,” I said, and I wondered if I sounded as dreamy to him as I did to myself.

He left and the room felt empty and lonely, even if it did feel nice without Charlotte.  Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins when I put on pajamas and crawled into bed.  At first, I was worried that Charlotte would come crashing back into our room and pull me out of bed.  And then I realized maybe I had been stupid and lost my opportunity
with Ethan.  Maybe he needed encouragement.  Maybe I should have just done the kissing myself, planted my lips on his full ones and cut loose.  Or maybe I should have told him I didn’t feel safe and that I wanted him to stay with me.  But…being virginal me and wanting to protect my virtue, I didn’t even consider it until later as I lay in my bed, wondering what misstep I had taken.

Aside from that, though, I’d had a great night with Ethan and thought maybe…
maybe
I might have a chance with him.

Chapter Five

CHARLOTTE MOVED OUT all right, just as she’d promised.  She did it over the weekend, and while I lay on my bed studying, listening to one of As I Lay Dying’s albums on my iPod, she didn’t say a word.  Sure enough, there was a guy helping her haul her stuff out.  I smiled at them both, but Charlotte wouldn’t even make eye contact with me.  Well, it was her decision, and I wasn’t too upset about it, but I didn’t want to be a total jerk about it.  Twice when she was walking through the room, she “accidentally” bumped my things, like a bottle of cologne and a picture, knocking them to the floor, probably hoping they’d break.  I felt nervous enough that I asked our RA if the girl had turned in her key to our room, and I didn’t sleep well until I’d verified it.  The RA assured me she had moved to another floor with another poor soul to torture.

And in the following weeks, Ethan never even came close to laying a hand on me and his lips didn’t get near mine
again.  But we did attend basketball games together, eat together, and study together (although we talked more than we studied).  We started spending so much time together, I began considering him my best college friend.  And if that meant nothing else would ever happen between us, I’d be okay with that.  We had an understanding, a common bond, and our friendship was growing stronger every day.  I’d be okay with just friends.

I was becoming more and more anxious to see his band Bullet.  Ethan talked about it a lot, and I told him I was excited.  One afternoon, we were in the library
, both logged onto computers because we’d been doing research for papers, and I reminded him about the fact that I suspected Bullet was a name that had already been taken.  And while Ethan might have been okay with that, I just wanted him to be aware.  So we looked it up, and sure enough,
Bullet
was taken by more than one band.  Ethan was bummed and then started searching for other names for bands having to do with ammo, like
Full Metal Jacket
(which he didn’t want anyway, because it belonged to a movie), and other things.  He was shocked at all of the names that were taken.  “Don’t worry, though, Val.  I’ll figure something out.  Except I don’t know how I’ll tell the guys.”  I looked at him, perhaps with a little too much eagerness.  He started laughing, then realized his voice was probably too loud.  “Yeah, yeah…I’ll introduce you to the guys, okay?”

I started giggling and lost myself, wrapping him in a hug that I think made him blush.
  And why he couldn’t get a clue, I didn’t know.  I knew he wasn’t gay, so what was the problem?  Maybe I
would
have to find a way to be more forward.

But he gave in to my incessant demands to introduce me to “the guys.”  His roommate,
Zane Carson, was the band’s bassist.  I didn’t say anything but wondered why he hadn’t introduced me to him long ago, even if it
had
been just as a roommate.  He and Ethan had gone to high school together and decided to give higher education “the good old college try,” Zane said.  Zane had chin-length black hair and striking blue eyes, made all the more astonishing because of his dark pupils.  His skin was an olive color and his dark eyebrows made his eyes somehow look more seductive.  He was tall and muscular but not bulky.  Damn, he was a gorgeous specimen of college man, but I was so hung up on Ethan, I hardly noticed.

Unlike Ethan, though,
Zane was quite talkative.  We were all hanging in the Student Center one afternoon, the second time I had a chance to chat with Ethan’s roommate, and he was talking about the band.  He liked to talk about the formation of their band, how—even though they’d known each other their entire lives—they’d become friends because of the desire to make music.  He talked about their town, high school, and their other two bandmates.  According to Zane, the other two still lived in their hometown and worked, waiting for whatever opportunities they had to get together and play.  Zane was…well, he was a truly beautiful guy.  The dark shoulder-length hair, baby blue eyes.  He and Ethan were about the same height and build.  Zane, though, was more carefree, a bit of a jokester, whereas Ethan hugged the dark side.  Just based on his words, I could tell that Zane was a loyal and sweet young man.  And, yeah…he was easy on the eyes.  Zane and I got along well, and I could tell from the short time we’d known each other that we could become good friends.

And just a few days later, Ethan invited me to take a trip home with him the following weekend.  Then, he said, I’d be able to meet the other half of Bullet.

Well, Bullet wasn’t going to last much longer.  The name, at any rate.  I found that out soon enough.  I should have been responsible and stayed in my dorm room, because it was the weekend before final exams.  I should have spent that time studying.  But this was Ethan asking, and I agreed without hesitation.  I did decide, though, to take my notes and textbooks so I could study when I had a few spare moments.

Friday afternoon, Ethan drove
Zane and me through a blustery snowstorm to their hometown.  I hoped my luggage stored in the back of his truck would survive the wind, snow, and ice.  We stopped at a convenience store where Ethan gassed up, and I got a coffee while the guys got sodas.  I wanted something hot because I was chilled to my bone.  Once we got back in the truck and on the road, I was tense because of the accumulating snow.  But it didn’t take me long to realize Ethan was just fine.  The snow on the roads didn’t bother him at all.  After a few minutes, he started talking.  He had a smirk on his face when he said, “So, Zane, Val completely fucking ruined our band.”

Zane
’s brows furrowed but then he smiled.  “She
did
, did she?  And exactly what are we gonna have to do about that?”

Ethan kept his eyes on the road, but he raised his right eyebrow and glanced over quickly.  “
Someday I think we might have to thank her.  For now, though, I’m gonna choose to be pissed at her for a while.”

“Why?  What’d I do?”

“Oh, yeah, acting like little Miss Innocent.  Fess up, Val.  Tell Zane what you did.”

I was aghast.  I really had no idea what he was talking about
, and I was at a loss for words.  I just shrugged my shoulders and looked over at Zane.  My head felt like a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between the two guys.  Zane was genuinely enjoying the repartee, but I was starting to feel frustrated.

Ethan let out a long sigh.  “
Turns out that Bullet has been taken as a band name…over and over and fucking over.  Apparently, we weren’t the only guys to think that was just the sickest name ever.”

“Well,
shit
, that sucks.”

“Yeah, and even though I was pissed to find that out, I
am
glad to find out
before
we got a big following or tried to get signed to a label.”  I saw the look on his face change.  Now he looked satisfied, and when he talked, I knew why. “But what do you think about
this?
”  He took a second to glance over at us again when he said, “
Fully Automatic?
”

Zane
’s brows bore down on his eyes as he tried the name out on his tongue.  “Fully Automatic…”

I was holding my breath without even realizing I had been.  I thought the name was fantastic, but I didn’t want to jump in yet. 
Zane said it again.  “Hmm…Fully Automatic…”  He nodded his head.  “Yeah.  I think that’s pretty cool.”

“Good.  Problem solved.  And I checked.  There aren’t any bands that go by that name.”

“Ours now.”

I smiled.  “I think it’s great too.  It’s still evocative of a gun.”

“That it is.  So…
thanks
…I think.”  Ethan looked over at Zane.  “I’m gonna need your help convincing Brad and Nick.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that hard, do you?”

He shrugged.  “I dunno.  When we first came up with our lists of names, Brad pushed for Bullet.  He loved that name.”

“Yeah, but he’ll feel like I did.  It
kinda sucks if it belongs to other people.”

Ethan nodded and bumped me with his elbow.  “Maybe we’ll make Val tell him.”

I started giggling and waving my hands in front of myself as though to ward off trouble.  Zane said, “I think she could definitely soften the blow.”

“Then it’s decided,” Ethan said.

“I didn’t agree to any such thing.”

Ethan looked over at
Zane, an earnest look of confusion on his face, but he was teasing me.  “Zane, did you hear something?”

“Nope.  Not a thing.”

“I didn’t think so.”  He grinned at me and winked, then leaned over and turned on the CD player, cranking it, and Slayer came through the speakers.  I leaned my head against the back of the seat.  The roads might have been bad, but I was having fun.  Although I didn’t know it, it was one of the last innocent fun times I was going to experience in my young life.

After some time, though, we drove through a
sleepy little town.  Ethan turned off onto a side street and pulled his truck to a stop in front of a large white ranch-style house.  Zane opened the door and Ethan said, “See you in a while.”  Zane bobbed his chin in agreement at Ethan and smiled at me, then reached in the bed of the truck for his bag.  He shook off the snow and started walking down a path to the front door.  A woman with short brown hair opened the door and pulled Zane into an embrace.  I was fairly certain the woman was his mother.

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.