More Than Music (4 page)

J
ulie and Carla were watching
House Hunters International
when I walked into the apartment we all shared.

“You can just repaint the stupid room!” Julie yelled at the TV.

I collapsed on the sofa beside them and threw my head back with a groan. Now that Jared was no longer in front of me and the glow of his smile had worn off, the reality of what I’d agreed to do was sinking in. I couldn’t go on the show with the band, but I seemed to be physically unable to say no to Jared either. Maybe I could pretend I was sick. Or break my arm. Yes, I had to injure myself. That was the only way to get out of this mess.

“Was your final that bad?” Carla asked.

“Maybe she needs to eat.” Julie handed me a box of crackers, which I waved away. Eating was the last thing on my mind right now.

“My final was fine, except Jared was waiting for me outside my class.”

Julie dropped the box, spilling crackers across the hardwood floor. “He what?”

“Was he mad about last night?” Carla asked.

I’d told both girls the entire embarrassing story on the drive home from the party. They’d thought it was hilarious naturally. “No, he wasn’t mad. Even worse—he asked me to join his band.”

“WHAT?” Julie and Carla both blurted out together.

“I know! But it’s only for their audition on
The Sound
tomorrow, and then they’ll find a new bassist. It’s not a permanent thing.” I sucked in a breath and then spit the rest out. “And I said yes, but now I need to tell him no because I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

My two friends looked at each other, and something passed between them. Julie turned back to me. “You
can
do this, and you will,” she said in her fiercest voice.

“Julie’s right,” Carla said. “This is what you’ve been dreaming about forever. You have to do it.”

“But I’m not a guitarist!” I protested. “I’ve never played live before or on stage or in front of…well, anyone.” At least, not since my mom had flipped out on me all those years ago.

“You’ve played guitar for us a million times,” Julie said.

“And you play piano on stage all the time,” Carla added.

“Yes, I play piano on stage, and sometimes I go wild and play the violin in an orchestra. But playing guitar in a band in front of millions of people is completely different!”

“You’ll be fine,” Carla said. “Besides, it’s only one performance. Just pretend you’re playing for us.”

Julie nudged me with her shoulder. “Plus this gives you a chance to get close to Jared.”

“I don’t want to get close to Jared!”

“Why not?” she asked. “Everyone wants to get close to Jared.”

“Yes, that’s
exactly
the problem.”

“Do it for Kyle then,” Carla said. “You’ve known him for years, and now he needs your help.”

I hadn’t thought of that. If I backed out now, they probably wouldn’t have time to find another guitarist or bassist before the show. I couldn’t do that to my friend. “You’re right… But then, why didn’t Kyle ask me to join the band himself?”

Julie shrugged. “Maybe Jared didn’t tell him about your little solo performance last night.”

That could be it. Kyle didn’t know I played the guitar. Or maybe Jared had told him, but Kyle didn’t want me in the band. I didn’t exactly fit their image after all. Or even worse, maybe Kyle was upset I’d never told him I played guitar and that his brother had found out before him. Even if Kyle didn’t know yet, he’d learn the truth in an hour when I went to rehearse with them. I dreaded the look on his face when he realized I’d kept this from him for three years.

“I don’t know.” I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. “I mean, look at me. I don’t belong in their band. They’re all so edgy and I’m so…not.”

Julie faced me and put her hands on my arms, her amber eyes drilling into mine. “Stop it. Those guys would be lucky to have you in their band.”

Carla wrapped her arms around both of us in a big group hug. “If you’d like, I can do your hair and makeup tomorrow before your audition, and Julie can help with your clothes. We’ll make you look amazing.”

I gave them the biggest smile I could muster up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

“So you’re going to do it?” Julie asked.

I tried to think of any other protests, but when it came right down to it, I couldn’t find another reason to say no. “Yeah, I’ll do the audition.”

Julie and Carla immediately started planning what they were going to do to me in the morning, but I wasn’t feeling as optimistic. As much as I loved these girls, there was no makeup or wardrobe in the world that could make me a rock star.

A
n hour later, I parked in front of the Cross brothers’ house and grabbed my gear from my backseat. I’d brought my own electric guitar and matching amp, though I wasn’t sure if I would be playing it or Jared’s for practice or the audition. I’d almost brought my acoustic guitar, too, but left it behind in the end. Villain Complex wasn’t an acoustic kind of band.

The studio’s garage door was open, and Jared spotted me as I came up the driveway. He walked over and grabbed the handle of my guitar case.

“Here, let me help you.” He took the amp, too, leaving me with empty, sweaty hands, which I rubbed on my jeans.

His leather jacket was gone, and he wore a T-shirt that said, “It’s Good to Be Bad.” For the first time, I got a close look at the tattoos on his arms: bars of music surrounded by spider webs, black stars, and roses with thorny vines. Like Kyle, he also had a triangle tattooed on the inside of each wrist, one dark and one light. I’d never realized a guy’s forearms could be sexy, yet somehow he managed to pull it off.

He set the guitar case on a long table and popped it open. He whistled when he saw the vintage sea foam green Fender Stratocaster inside. “Wow. Where’d you get this?”

“I bought it at a pawn shop, along with the amp.” Both were chipped and dented, but I loved them. They were the only instruments I’d ever bought with my own money, right after I’d left for college. The grand piano back home, my violin and clarinet, and even the keyboard crammed next to my bed were all guilt presents from my father. My acoustic guitar had been my mom’s once, back when she did things like play music. But this guitar—it was all mine.

“May I?” he asked, and I nodded.

He ran a hand over the body and neck of it with the gentle caress of someone who understood how precious it was. I watched his fingers touch each string and imagined what it’d be like if he touched me that way.

Stop it
. I forced my eyes to the floor.
He’s not for you.

“Very nice,” he said. “You can use your guitar for the audition or use mine if you want. Whatever works.”

“I’ll use mine, I guess.” Even though I’d played Jared’s guitar last night, it seemed too intimate now, too much of a reminder of that embarrassing moment when he’d caught me. It was bad enough being alone with him in this studio again. “Where are the other guys?”

“They should be here soon. You can start warming up if you want.”

Warming up was a little too close to playing guitar, which was the entire reason I was in the studio, but that didn’t mean I was ready to do it. I hadn’t played in front of anyone but Julie and Carla in years. And Jared, but that had been an accident. Now he expected me to play again, and the thought made me want to run straight back to my car.

I picked up my guitar and started to tune it, mostly to give myself something to do. My hands shook while I adjusted the knobs, and I took deep breaths, trying to force myself to be calm. If I didn’t get control of my fingers soon, I’d never be able to play. I couldn’t decide if I was more worried about that or more hopeful.

Jared opened another case and pulled out a deep blue electric bass I hadn’t seen before. Soon the studio was filled with the sound of us plucking strings as we tuned our instruments. We stood only a few feet apart but didn’t speak, and an awkward cloud hung between us. Or maybe that was just me; Jared seemed oblivious to it.

“So you play bass?” A dumb question, but I had to say something to end the tension.

“Yeah, although it’s been a while.” His gaze swept across the studio. “I can play everything in here to some degree.”

“You can?” My voice sounded a little too eager. I cleared my throat and dropped my eyes to the frets on my guitar. “Were you a music major also?”

“Nope. Philosophy. Something my brother never lets me live down.”

“Philosophy?”

“Yep. And now I’m a bartender who writes angsty songs, which I’m pretty sure is what everyone does with a philosophy degree.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “The job market for professional philosophers does seem to have dried up these past few years.”

“Tell me about it.” He adjusted his mic and raised an eyebrow at me. “And what lofty plans do you have for your music degree?”

“I’m hoping to get into USC for graduate school. They have a degree in music scores for movies, TV, and video games.”

“Ah, joining the enemy,” he said, referring to the rivalry between UCLA and USC.

“Maybe. There are good programs at NYU and Berklee College of Music, too, but I’d rather stay in LA.”

He studied me for a moment, his bass momentarily forgotten. “So what’s your favorite movie score?”

“I don’t know. There are so many great ones.” I adjusted my glasses as I considered. “Pretty much everything by John Williams—he did
Star Wars
and
Jurassic Park
and
Indiana Jones
and about a million more. I also love the
Lord of the Rings
scores and
The Dark Knight
and, oh, the
Tron Legacy
score by Daft Punk is amazing, too…” There I went, babbling in front of him again. His eyes were probably glazing over by now. “Sorry. I could talk about this stuff for hours.”

In response, he started singing “The Imperial March” from
Star Wars
. “Dun dun dun…”

“That’s the ringtone on my phone,” I said with a laugh. “Wow, that probably makes me the biggest geek ever, huh?”

“Nah. I approve.” He gave me a smile that sent a rush of warmth from my face down to my toes and to everything in between. “Who do you think picked all the quotes for our wall?”

“That was you?” I glanced at the wall behind us with all the quotes by or about villains. I would have guessed Kyle had chosen them, not Jared.

Kyle and Hector arrived at that moment, interrupting us. They stopped just outside the open garage door and stared at me like I was a weed in their garden. Jared must not have told them I was joining the band.

“
This
is the new guitarist?” Hector asked.

Ouch. I knew I didn’t look the part, but it still hurt to hear it out loud.

“Maddie?” Kyle’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes swept over my guitar and back up to my face. “You play
guitar
?”

“Not really,” I said, and then realized that probably didn’t help matters, since I would be auditioning with them tomorrow. “I mean, I know how to play, but…”

Kyle turned to glare at his brother. “How did
you
know she played guitar?”

“Relax, it’s not what you think,” Jared said, which instantly made me flush. Great, they assumed I was one of Jared’s flings. But to my surprise, Jared didn’t reveal how he knew. “She told me last night at the party.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed, like he found that hard to believe, but Hector cut him off. “Forget it. We all agreed—no more girls in the band. Not after what happened with Becca.”

“Hector’s right,” Kyle said. “Sorry, Maddie. It’s nothing against you.”

“We don’t have any other option,” Jared said. “Unless you can find someone who can play guitar or bass and knows our songs before tomorrow morning.”

“How do you know she can actually play?” Hector asked. “She probably just said that to get in your pants.”

“Hey—” I started to protest.

“She knows our songs?” Kyle asked and then tilted his head back to the ceiling. “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. Maddie is some kind of musical genius. She can hear a piece one time and then play it back perfectly.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” I muttered, but no one was listening to me. Maybe I should leave and let them sort this out on their own. I glanced at my guitar case and wondered how quickly I could pack up and flee to my car.

“Shit, I don’t know.” Hector removed his hat, spilling his dark curls, and then shoved it back on again. “We should forget this audition and wait for the next one.”

“The next show won’t be for another year,” Jared said. “We can’t wait that long. And what if they don’t want us next year? No, we have to do it tomorrow.”

“I need to talk to Maddie alone,” Kyle said.

He led me down the driveway, far enough that the others couldn’t hear us. I swallowed hard as I waited for him to speak, preparing for the worst. He stared at the guitar still around my neck and then sighed and swept back the black hair that was always falling in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you played guitar?”

“Um…” I stared at the ground. I hated that I’d kept this from him for so long and that he was hurt now because of my omission. But how could I explain that guitar had been my secret all these years? Something that had just been for me. Not my parents. Not my teachers. Not even my friends. I didn’t think Kyle would understand somehow. He wore his entire personality on display and didn’t care what other people thought. It was one of the things I admired most about him.