Damaged Goods

by J. C. Hannigan

  “What do you want to do?” he asked. I bit my lip, mulling over the question. Part of me wanted him to take me back to his place, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to control myself for very long if he did…and I needed to control myself.

  “Let’s go to the lake,” I suggested. “But first, let’s get hot chocolate. It’s cold out.”

  Grayson’s eyes drank in my face, and he tentatively smiled at me. I bit my lip, knowing what he was thinking about. “Okay.” He nodded as we climbed into his truck.

  We drove to Tim Hortons, both of us ordering hot chocolates as I had suggested, then Grayson drove down to the lake. He parked the truck in the nearly empty lot, his lips curving up in a half smile. Hot chocolate in hand, I jumped out of the truck.

  It was a chilly day. Winter loomed in the near future and the icy bite of wind carried a promise of snow. It was colder down at the lake, but I didn’t mind; my hands were warm enough thanks to my cup. I took a slow sip, turning and walking backwards as I motioned with my eyes for Grayson to join me. He was still sitting in the cab of his truck, watching me with a strange expression on his face.

  He got out and we started walking down the waterfront, our arms brushing occasionally. I kept my hands busy, enjoying the warmth that came from slowly sipping my drink.

  “So, did I miss anything interesting when I was away?” Grayson asked. I could tell by the tension in his shoulders and the particular way he was looking at me that he knew something that didn’t make him happy.

  “Well, Kyle asked me out. But that was before you disappeared,” I answered, raising an eyebrow at him in question.

  “Yeah, I heard about that.” He smirked.

  “What else did you hear?”

  “That you told him no, but that he’s determined to win you.” Grayson laughed almost bitterly.

  I snorted. “Where did you hear that?”

  “People talk.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

  The beach in Newcastle was small, and we’d already walked the length of it and were slowly heading back toward his truck.

  The silence felt heavy between us. There was a thick current between us, growing with intensity each time his arm causally brushed against mine. I turned my face to study him. He looked as if he had something more to say, but was having a difficult time forming the words. “Just spit it out,” I encouraged, coming to a stop. We were in front of his truck, our walk over.

  “Why did you say no?” Those incredible eyes rose to meet mine. My breath hitched as I got caught in the storm swirling within their depths.

  “Because…isn’t it obvious?” I blinked at him.

  He smiled almost nervously, and his gaze dropped to study my lips. “I’m glad you said no,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting mine again as he stepped toward me. The wind caught my hair, making it dance about my face. His hand slowly lifted to brush it back.

  I smiled at him, not wanting to break eye contact. “Me too,” I whispered, my heart thudding in my chest. Despite his confession, he was still keeping those solid walls in place, letting me have only mere glimpses of what was going on in his head.

  I didn’t want him to be guarded around me. I didn’t want him to feel ashamed that he had told me about his mom. I knew that he was angry he had opened up to me; he was embarrassed about his display of emotion.

  I stood on my toes, leaning up to gently press my lips to his. I felt him draw a sharp breath in, but as my tongue probed at the metal of his lip ring, I felt him relax against me. His hand gently twisted my hair into a ponytail, held in place by his fist. He deepened the kiss, pressing me against the hood of his truck, pinning me there with his body.

  Fire ignited in the pit of my belly, and I gasped as he gently used my hair to pull my head back, bringing his lips away from mine to shower kisses on my collarbone. I started to shiver against my will, between the lust he was stirring in me and the chilly breeze.

  “You’re shivering,” he said, his eyes full of heat as he gazed down at me with desire.

  “Hmm,” I muttered, my pulse quickening as I took in his expression.

  “Let’s get you somewhere warm.” Grayson cocked his head playfully to the side, his eyes enticing me just as much, if not more, than his words.

  Chapter Eight

  ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, I sat in my bedroom and endured the torture of Lindsay and Aubrey prepping me for the battle later that evening while Alicia watched with morbid fascination.

  Lindsay had picked out my outfit: black skinny jeans, a white low-neck t-shirt, and a tight short buckle black leather jacket.

  Lindsay and Aubrey then spent the next half hour arguing over how to do my hair and makeup. They finally decided on a look, grabbing Lindsay’s collection of eye-shadows and murmuring in low voices to each other while I hopelessly looked at Alicia and pleaded with her to save me.

  “Better you than me.” she shrugged, grinning at me as she hoisted herself up on to my dresser. She glanced at Lindsay, who was hard at work. Lindsay bit down on her bottom lip, concentrating on blending. I didn’t miss the look of quiet longing that marred Alicia’s features briefly.

  I was thankful that my friends had come to the rescue. I needed Aubrey and Lindsay to help me at least look like I belonged up on that stage, even if I blew it.

  “Almost done,” Lindsay said. I worried my lip while they worked, convinced that I was going to end up looking like a raccoon. They were using three different shades of gray and a coal black; I was terrified to open my eyes and look in the mirror.

  “You look like a hot rocker chick.” Lindsay grinned with satisfaction. Once she was finished, she stepped back to admire her work. I blinked at her, my eyes feeling heavy and strange. “No peeking! Not until we finish your hair,” she ordered when I attempted to peer around her at the mirror.

  I sat back in my chair, closing my eyes again as Aubrey ran the flat iron through my hair. Once it was completely straightened, she started to tease and brush the top part up, creating a poof and using an overwhelming amount of hairspray and bobby pins to get it to stick.

  Aubrey tugged on Lindsay’s arm, and they stepped back so I could assess the damage in my mirror.

  “Oh,” I muttered, gently touching a finger to my face. Lindsay definitely had made me look like a hot rocker chick. “Do you think it’s too much?” I worried out loud, glancing from Aubrey to Alicia.

  Lindsay frowned, taking my arms and turning me so I was facing her. “This is perfect. Trust me. You want to captivate their attention, and you look the part now. Not like a shy little mouse,” she explained, rolling her eyes impatiently. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged without apology. “You’re shy—you usually look it. But you don’t tonight, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Ugh.” I wrapped my arms around my waist, feeling ill. “I’m going to ruin this.”

  “No, you aren’t,” Aubrey argued, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. “But we will definitely be late if you don’t hurry up. Marcus said you had to be there at 7 p.m. It’s nearly time!”

  We had lost a good several hours on my hair and makeup, but the finished result was worth it. Like Lindsay said, I stood out. I looked like I belonged on the stage.

  “Alright, let’s go then.” I sighed, grabbing the leather jacket off of my bed. I slipped into the black knee-high boots that Julia had loaned me. There was a two inch heel, and my ankles wobbled in protest. “Oh…I guess I should have practiced wearing these things,” I muttered, concerned as I stared at my feet.

  “Seriously?” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Walk on the front part of your foot; you look like a drag queen when you do it the other way.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” I grumbled, trying to follow her advice as she led the way down the stairs. I nearly tripped over Stella’s sleeping body in the hallway. I grabbed onto the railing to steady myself.

  Mom was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching us descend. Her eyes fell on my face, and she grinned. “You look beau
tiful, honey!”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling awkward.

  Dad came to stand beside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and peered up the stairs at me, frowning deeply. “She looks older than her age. I don’t like it,” he said gruffly.

  Mom batted him in the chest. “Lighten up. She’s got a performance tonight! It’s just stage makeup,” she lectured, rolling her eyes at his over-protective attitude. He grunted, not appeased.

  We continued down the stairs, and I paused in front of my parents while my friends slipped into their shoes.

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home…we don’t go on until ten and then there’s another band on after us,” I told them again.

  “Have your cell phone on you, and stay with your friends.” Mom nodded, giving me her usual speech. “Julia will be there, so find her afterwards. She’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Julia’s coming?” It was news to me.

  “Yeah, she is. She’s got strict instructions to keep an eye on you. No drinking.” Dad’s voice held no room for argument, not that I would have tried. As far as my parents knew, the only alcohol I had consumed was a glass of wine at holiday dinners with the family.

  “Dad, they’ll be checking people at the door and stamping everyone who’s under-age. Chill out.”

  “You could have one of those fake ID’s,” he argued, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “Don’t give them any ideas,” Mom warned. She wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “Break a leg, sweetie.”

  “Good luck, songbird,” Dad said gruffly, unable to hide his wide smile. My parents were both supportive, if not skeptical, of the whole band thing. They loved that I was doing something I loved and coming a little bit more out of my shell, but I don’t think they took it seriously. I didn’t even take it seriously. I didn’t truly believe we would win that reoccurring spot to perform at the pub, and I certainly didn’t think we would capture the attention of the music label representative. Still, what was the harm in trying?

  “Your parents are so nice,” Lindsay said, tossing another glance at them as they waved at us from the front porch. Her expression seemed a little sad, but before I could ask her what was wrong, she pasted on an excited grin. “I can’t wait for tonight! There’s going to be a ton of smoking hot college guys!”

  My friends’ chatter filled the crowded car, but I remained silent, looking out the window without seeing, my thoughts swirling frantically from Grayson to the battle and back again.

  Although he had promised, I still worried that he wouldn’t show up. He was, after all, dealing with a lot right now and my silly little band event seemed so insignificant compared to the things he was dealing with.

  I didn’t even know if I wanted him to show up. I was nervous enough as it was; singing with him there would take it to a whole new level. At the same time, I wanted him to be there. I wanted to look across the faces in the crowd and find his. Despite how weak he made me in the knees, he still gave me confidence. It was in to how he saw me, I think. Almost like a contact high.

  * * *

  The venue for Battle of the Bands was a college pub. The stage wasn’t very high up off the ground, and it was a small, crowded area to perform. Still, the place was packed to capacity.

  I chewed on my lower lip, my eyes scanning the massive crowd as I sat at a table with my friends and my band mates to the left of the stage, waiting for our turn. People from our school would approach us to wish us luck and tell us that they would vote for us. The guys were naturals at talking to them. I, on the other hand, could barely mutter out a word of response. My guts were twisted with nerves.

  We were the second to last to go on, and it was nearly our turn. The third band had just finished their set, and the fourth band was setting up. The first three bands, Rainado, The Aftermath, and Guts had all been high school garage bands, varying from bad to decent. Not one of them had played their own music; they had all done covers of popular songs.

  I couldn’t help but feel as if that gave us extra points. Surely our creativity had to account for something. I tried to calm myself with that thought, closing my eyes as I took a sip of my water.

  I was too young to drink, and I didn’t want to, either. Alcohol would only enhance my intense feelings of nervousness and dread.

  “Are you alright?” Kyle asked gently, his head close to mine so I could hear him over the drum intro. I nodded, taking another sip of my water. The minutes passed by agonizingly slow until it was time for us to get on stage.

  My heart was pounding frantically in my chest as I followed Kyle up onto the stage. I was the last one up, hesitatingly stepping up to the microphone. I glanced at my band mates. Marcus was behind the drum set, twirling the drum sticks in his hand. Kyle was in front of the other microphone, gently strumming his guitar while Cam tested his bass to the right of us.

  I felt a fluttering in my stomach, as if a thousand butterflies were trying to take flight. I took a deep breath, testing the microphone and closing my eyes, willing myself not to throw up everywhere.

  I blinked, catching sight of Aubrey’s bright hair. She stood front and center with Lindsay, Alicia, Julia and a couple of Julia’s friends. On Aubrey’s other side stood Grayson. Our eyes locked, and I instantly felt a calm wash over me.

  Kyle started strumming chords to the first few rifts of “You’re Not With Me”. I started to sing, the words etched in my mind and soul.

  As always, when I started to sing, I became lost in the music, Kyle’s voice joining with mine on our chorus. We breezed through the sets, the crowd growing louder with each original song we performed. My eyes remained on Grayson’s for the most part. He was magnetic, his energy keeping me tethered completely to him.

  In no time at all, we were starting our final song, “Plain Sight”, the song that probably had the deepest meaning for me out of all the ones I had ever written. I sang, my eyes closing against the emotion that the lyrics brought out in me, and Kyle’s mournful voice added the background vocals.

  “My heart is open

  Yours is closed

  I saw you standing there

  A shadow super imposed

  You light the flame within my soul

  But once it burns I lose control

  When everything is spinning round

  You leave me falling to the ground

  You stare at me with vacant eyes

  Pretend not to hear my painful cries

  You cracked me open turn me inside out

  You wonder why I want to shout

  I want to shake you out of this cold

  And bring you warmth and make you gold.

  You are golden, shiny and bright

  Under the darkness you hide in the night

  One day I’ll bring you into the light

  One day you’ll embrace me in plain sight.”

  My voice trailed off, and I blinked. I felt like so many minutes had passed by, my chest rising and falling with the deep breaths I frantically took in as I waited for the crowd’s response. In reality, only two seconds had passed before my eardrums were bursting with a loud, cheering roar. I grinned, my eyes finding my friends in the crowd.

  Aubrey was jumping up and down, clenching Alicia and Lindsay as if she had just watched Beyoncé live. Julia was whistling, a huge, proud grin on her face.

  Grayson showed me a smile that held so much within it: happiness, pride, and awe. I could tell that the last song struck a chord within him; the only hint was a flickering of pain in his eyes.

  I took another deep breath, my eyes still on him. Kyle sauntered up to me and threw his arm across my shoulders, grinning at the crowd. “Thanks, Oshawa!” he said, holding his hand up in a peace sign.

  I could only grin at his silly stage move. A camera bulb flash momentarily blinded me, and then Kyle was leading me off the stage so the final band could perform.

  “That was intense!” Aubrey screeched, the pitch of her voice nearly popping my inner ear. She dove
on me, her red hair bouncing all about. “You were perfect—fucking perfect, Everly!”

  It was hard to get through the crowd that suddenly swarmed us. Several faces I sort of recognized jutted out to shake my hand and tell me how great I had been. I could only smile and mutter my thanks; the confident girl I had briefly been on stage was completely gone and replaced with a shy, overwhelmed one whose heart was beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

  Julia hugged me, her green eyes shining with pride. “I can’t believe how great you were! My friends love you guys. You’re going to make it big,” she told me, glancing at Kyle. He still had his arms around my shoulders. I ducked out from under him, moving closer to my sister.

  “Thanks, Julia,” I told her; her praise made me feel as if I could cry. I smiled as she hugged me.

  “I’ll be sticking around for a while, have fun…okay?” she added, giving me a knowing smile as her eyes danced to Kyle and back to me. I forced a smile. It wasn’t Julia’s fault that she assumed Kyle and I were together. His arm around my shoulders hadn’t helped debunk that myth. Julia was busy with her college courses, her friends and her boyfriend. We rarely ever saw each other, and when we did my love life was the last thing I would talk to her about.

  I watched her walk away, the space she had been in quickly getting filled by Marcus’s excited grin. He had Connor and another guy with him. I studied the newcomer quickly, assessing his causal yet professional assemble. I could tell he was the scout by the way Marcus’s eyes were popping out of his head.

  “Guys, this is Reece Miller. He works for Universal Canada,” Marcus explained. “Reece, this is Cam, Kyle, and Everly.”

  Reece nodded politely to Cam and Kyle, but when his eyes fell on me, his entire face lit up. He was in his late thirties, handsome with dark, perfectly styled hair and a trimmed goatee. He looked just how I envisioned an agent from a music label would look. Or maybe a Tony Stark fanatic.

  He stepped forward, taking my hand in his.

  “You have an incredible voice.” His voice was appealing, smooth and soft. His eyes assessed me critically, and his grin grew even wider. He pulled a card out from his pocket, placing it into the palm of the hand he was still holding. “I really see you guys making it big. Here’s my card; give me a call and we’ll talk about you getting a demo tape to my desk.”