Evening came and Vicki started clamoring that she was hungry and needed to pee. I too could have stood a bite and my legs were feeling stiff. So Andrew dropped us off at a restaurant and asked Barbie to order him “any kind of burger and fries.” He drove off to gas up and promised to be back soon. Peter had already contacted our roadies earlier, and they’d suggested Junction City, Kansas, as a good stopping point. They’d already eaten dinner there and were back on the road.
Once we were seated, Peter said, “Try to keep your meals less than twenty dollars, drink and all, and let’s not linger over dinner. We still have a few hours until we arrive at our hotel. Fortunately, we don’t have to unload any instruments or anything, but I do want you to have a little downtime and then a lot of rest. I want you in good spirits and well rested for your first show tomorrow.”
We all seemed to like Andrew’s idea of a burger and fries, so we each had variations on the theme. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries and another Diet Coke to wash it down. Andrew got back just as the food arrived and Barbie patted the chair next to her—as if Andrew had any choice—and said, “You can sit here.” I didn’t know if Barbie had a bad crush or just liked flirting and knowing she could wrap any guy around her finger, but it was sickening to watch.
Dinner was a nice break from the monotony of the road, but I could already see the light fading in Liz’s eyes. I suspected the trip was taking its toll on her as well. Even Kelly seemed less bubbly than usual. Fortunately, the restaurant was quick, so we were out of there in less than an hour. We were ready for the last stretch.
It had been dark for about an hour by the time we approached the bright lights of Kansas City, but it didn’t take long to get to our destination. We were staying in a cheap chain motel, but its saving grace was that it had a swimming pool. I never would have thought to bring a swimsuit along for the trip, but my mom had suggested it when we were making a list of what I needed to take. Already I was saying a silent thanks to her and her foresight, because—after that long drive in a warm car—I wanted to cool off. The van had A/C, but it didn’t seem to be working as well as it should have, and maybe that was because we were crammed to capacity in there…and summer wasn’t over yet.
So we each grabbed our “carry on” and walked into the hotel. The roadies were sitting in the lobby, waiting for us. Apparently, they’d been given money for gas but Peter was taking care of the hotel arrangements. We stood by them while Peter and Andrew walked to the desk. TT, the slightly chubby roadie with straggly brown hair, said, “We’ll bring your bags up to your rooms once we know where they are.” He paused. “Sorry. It’ll take a while for me to get to know you gals. Which one of you had all the bags?”
“It was me. Barbie.” And then, for dramatic effect, I guess, she added, “Vocals.”
“Cool. Which bag do you need us to bring up for you?”
“All of them.”
TT grinned. “You’re kidding, right?”
Oh, this was gonna be fun. “Absolutely not. I need all of them.”
“You don’t need all of them, dude. You need a change of clothes, your makeup and shit, and that’s it. What all do you need?”
Barbie huffed. “I need it all. I need street clothes for tomorrow and then stage clothes, and what I wear will depend upon my mood…and I won’t know my mood until tomorrow. Bring them all.”
Oh…he’d riled up the diva. It was going to be interesting to see who won. Peter and Andrew rejoined us and they had a handful of key cards. Apparently, Barbie and TT had been getting loud, because Peter asked, “What seems to be the trouble here?”
“He is refusing to bring my luggage to the room.”
“Dude, I didn’t. I just asked which bag she needed me to bring and—”
“And I said all of them. I don’t think that’s unreasonable, Peter.”
Peter, his usual bland, unperturbable self, said, “So take them all up to her room.”
“Peter, dude, she has a shitload of them.”
Oh. A crack in the façade. Peter managed to stop his eyes from rolling but I did see his chest rise, and he managed to stifle the tired sigh just the same. “Let’s make a deal, shall we?” He looked from TT to Barbie and then back to TT when he said, “Tonight, bring them all up.” He turned his attention to our fiery singer and added, “But tomorrow, I want you to organize your luggage so that we only need to take up two bags per night for you. I don’t care how you arrange them and you can have different ones every night, but two per night.” She was gearing up to protest when he said, “I don’t think that’s unreasonable, especially since you can take a small bag with you onto the van as well.”
TT and Bad Dog, our other roadie who seemed to prefer to keep to himself, acted satisfied, but Barbie was a volcano just brewing. What the hell would she come up with next?
I only hoped she would let us all get a decent night’s sleep that night…but I somehow doubted she could keep her drama to herself.
“Freak Like Me” ~ Halestorm
Chapter Two
THE OUTDOOR POOL was calling my name, and I had a swimsuit aching to get wet. Peter promised that we’d have different sleeping arrangements every night, but for this evening, Vicki and I were sharing a room; Barbie, Liz, and Kelly were in another; and two of the girls could either share a bed or they could get a cot. I was happy because Vicki had grown to be my best friend, although she was causing me worry of late.
I thought I was going to go wild. Hell, I knew I would. My parents had never been strict, but there are certain things you do or don’t do as a child, hoping for their approval, whether they expect it or not. Without their watchful eye, I could do whatever the hell I wanted whenever the hell I wanted—and I planned to. But I just knew, from what little time I had known my friend, that she was going to go overboard. I might choose to have a swig of whiskey, but I knew she’d decide to go for meth instead. I might plan to sleep with a random stranger; she’d decide to take two on at once. If I wanted to go skydiving, she’d do it higher and pull the chute when she got closer to the ground. That was just the kind of person she was—and it scared me. She was always looking for the bigger, the better, the more, and she never considered the cost to herself.
She didn’t have a swimsuit but she joined me anyway, planning to buy a suit later on. She stripped down to her bra and panties and said they were just as good as a bikini. They were hot pink with big white polka dots and, after I jumped in the water and she followed, leaving her clothes on the concrete, I said, “Wow. That’s really metal.” I wouldn’t have said it to any of the other girls, because they weren’t big metal fans, but Vicki and I were. We were always the ones wanting the harder tunes, heavier beats—and Vicki would understand I was being a smart ass.
“Yeah, what can I say? Guys like it, though.”
I grinned. “No, they like ripping them off you.”
“Same difference.” She dove under water and came up quickly, giggling. “That was a bad fucking idea. Apparently, bikinis are designed to stay on your body. Panties aren’t.”
I started laughing too. “Do you need to get out?”
“Hell, no. I’ll just be more careful and, if little kids jump in, I’ll have to behave myself.” She backed up to the wall of the pool and rested her arms on the upside, allowing her body to float out in front of her. I swam up and down the length of the pool, relishing the feel of the warm water on my muscles. God, after being cooped up in the van all day, I needed this. This motel might have been cheap, but at least if there were swimming pools in every place, I’d survive. I’d never been a huge swimmer, but I could become one now.
I swam close to Vicki and stopped next to her, assuming the same position she was in. “This is awesome.”
“Yeah.” After a minute, she said, “Hey. I think I can score us some pot later. Want some?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.” I was feeling worn out, though, so I didn’t know if I would actually enjoy it. Still…it was with Vicki, and it couldn’t hurt.
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After a little while longer, we got out, grabbing the towels we’d brought out of our room. Vicki wrung out her panties as best she could without exposing anything that could get her arrested before tying the towel around her waist and picking up her clothes. “Damn. I was hoping Andrew would show up.”
I already had a bad feeling about that guy. Why, I didn’t know, because he seemed a hell of a lot more human than Peter. I shrugged. “Eh. We have a whole tour and this is just day one. Plus he drove all damn day. He’s probably crashed in his room.” We walked in the front door of the hotel and headed down the hall.
Vicki burst into laughter. “Oh, my God! He’s probably dead! He’s sharing a room with Peter and Peter probably bored him to death. Or he called him a whore one too many times and now Peter is dead!” She continued laughing all the way to the elevator.
The water had been so warm that now my teeth were chattering in the air-conditioned motel. While we waited for the elevator, I turned my head and saw a man with two young children. He gave me half a smile and quickly averted his eyes. I got the feeling Vicki and I made him uncomfortable, but was it because of himself or his children?
I’d never know because we got on the elevator then and it was just us two. I said, “I think I want a hot shower when we get back. Did you want to use the shower first?”
“Nah. I have some searching to do.” Oh, yeah. The pot. And there was no way I’d admit it, but the trip had worn me out. I hoped I got more used to that as we got further into our tour. “I just need to pee first.”
“No problem.” The elevator let us out and we hustled down the hall to our room. Once in there, I ran across the room and shut off the air-conditioning unit we’d left on. It had felt perfect when we’d first arrived but now it was way too much. Vicki ran in the bathroom and I sat on my bed. I was tempted to get under the comforter and pull it up to my chin, but I’d get the bed damp and that would be worse in the long run. I’d just tough it out.
Vicki came out of the bathroom a minute later completely naked. Okay. I’d seen nude women before but I’d never had one live in front of me, not even during P.E. in school, because we’d all been too damn self-conscious to strip down and shower in front of each other. She said, “All yours” and sauntered over to her luggage.
At least she had a nice figure. Mine was decent, I supposed, but I wasn’t confident enough to show it off like that. “Good luck,” I said and headed to the bathroom.
I was happy when I saw that there was one of those heat lamps in the ceiling with a timer, so I could turn it on after I got out of the shower until I felt cozy and warm. Jesus. I realized Vicki had left her soggy underwear and towel on the floor—not hanging on the rack, not on the edge of the tub, just strewn on the bathroom floor, and I could barely avoid it getting to the shower.
It was going to be tough adjusting to sharing living quarters, but I’d have to learn to do it and not whine about it, because I was finally living the dream.
* * *
The shower had been amazing, and now I lay in the soft double bed with the TV turned on to some stupid show, but my phone was in my hand. I really wanted to call or text CJ and ask him about the song I’d heard earlier in the day—the one in which he’d sung, “That girl is danger.” I might have doubted it was about me if not for our phone conversation the night before. Not only had he called me “babe,” but he’d promised to show me a good time—“more than a kiss”—in a year when I turned eighteen.
But I thought that maybe I could turn up the heat and change his mind about waiting.
To hell with wondering. I picked up my phone and sent him a text. I kept it simple. I saw a video today. I figured if he was onstage, he’d respond tomorrow, and I found myself vegging, watching the stupid sitcom on the TV when my phone vibrated in my hand. I looked down.
Your video isn’t out yet, is it?
I grinned. Such a tease. I wasn’t talking about MY video, mister.
Mister? Glad you respect my authority. lol
I thought I’d let him sweat for a few seconds. Besides, I was so tired, I was struggling trying to think of something clever to reply.
I was wondering if I should report someone as a stalker.
I waited and waited and no response. Okay, apparently, he didn’t think that was funny. But then my phone buzzed with a phone call, and it was CJ. “Yeah?”
“You’re just kidding, right? About the stalker?”
I laughed then. God, it was nice hearing his voice, especially after the day I’d had. “Yeah.”
“Good. I was gonna tell you to call the cops.”
“Even if the stalker was you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, CJ. I was talking about your song—the video. The song you said you’ve been working on.”
He paused. “Oh. That.”
“Yeah. That. What’d you think I was talking about?”
He laughed. “Sorry. I’ve had a little too much to drink.”
Now was probably the best time to ask. “So…who’s this song about anyway?”
He acted like he was going to keep laughing, but his voice sobered up a bit. “Hmm. I dunno.”
“Liar.”
“I promise I’ll tell you at your birthday party next year.”
I was quiet for a few seconds. For some reason, I felt like he was dismissing me, like I was a little kid. I felt like the whole it’s-technically-illegal rationale was bullshit, and he just figured I was too young for him. This conversation is what pushed me there, and I realized that, much as CJ intrigued me, much as he fueled a lot of fantasies, he wasn’t worth the wait.
No man was.
Why? Because they could all turn out like my father. Yeah, he and mom were back together now and part of me was happy that she’d taken him back with open arms, forgiven him like nothing had happened. But, in other ways, it was complete and utter bullshit. He should’ve crawled back on his knees, enough that he wore holes through his pants and chaffed his skin, and begged for mercy. And she should have told him no, made him sweat, made him rethink everything he’d ever believed. She should have questioned if he was what she really wanted.
Those were my thoughts that evening. I learned later on that it was far more complicated. I didn’t realize that my father was also my mother’s friend and that she needed his help to survive. Love was the last reason why she took him back, but—at seventeen, still angry—I didn’t see or know that. My misconceptions about the entire event colored my own relationships and views about sex and love.
“Maybe I don’t want to wait that long.”
“Impatient?”
“Very.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. Unlike our conversation last night, it didn’t sound loud and crowded in the background tonight. He was alone, or close to it, and had time to think. “What if I told you the song was about you?”
I didn’t miss a beat. “I already knew that.”
Silence again. Must have been the alcohol talking. “Yeah, I guess you did.”
“CJ, I would love to flirt with you all you want, but if there’s nothing behind it, you’re just a tease.”
He started laughing again. “I’m not a tease.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve said more than once that you’re waiting until I’m eighteen.”
“I’ve told you why.”
“And I’m calling bullshit. I’m not patient. Maybe that’s because I was an only child. I don’t know. But I do know I’m not willing to wait.”
He was quiet again, and I think the words were sinking in. He finally said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Oh. Maybe I’d overplayed my cards…but it was too late to take it back now. “I really like you, CJ.”
There was a space of silence that stretched so much it was uncomfortable, then painful. Finally, he said, “I really like you, too, Kyle. I thought you knew that.”
Time for the final blow. “I thought I did too, but actions speak louder than words.” I closed my eyes a
nd let out the breath I was holding in my lungs. “Maybe I’ll see you next summer.” I’d forgotten about the plans Peter had to have our two bands play together then to end out our tours. I was going to see him whether I liked it or not.
“Sorry you feel that way.”
I was going to test that statement…see just how damn sorry he was.
Chapter Three
MAYBE I SHOULD have been sad, but I wasn’t. I was angry that CJ was being so stubborn about the whole thing. Warm and comfy in the overly soft bed, I fell asleep clutching my phone but it dropped out of my hand at some point.
The alarm on my phone awakened me, though. Peter had scheduled a call for eleven AM, so I’d set my alarm for ten. When I found my phone where it had sunk in the covers, I swiped the screen to turn off the blaring klaxon. Then I set up and stretched, and that was when I saw Vicki in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin.
She must have decided to get high without me.
I got up and made coffee in the little two-cup pot in our room, remembering that someone in the lobby had said there would be coffee down there available all morning if we wanted it.
I went to the bathroom to relieve my bladder and then it hit me. Holy shit. Tonight was going to be our first official concert.
I came out of there, excited and out of control. I jumped on Vicki’s bed. “Hey! We become real rock stars tonight. Get up!”
I could barely hear her mutter. “What the fuck, Kyle? Get off the damn bed.”
“C’mon, Vicki. Get your ass up.” I stopped jumping and sat down, then slid so I was sitting on the edge. Then I moved closer to the head of the bed and whispered, “I made coffee.”
“What the hell? You’re not gonna let me sleep, are you?”
“We have our meeting in an hour.”
“Cigarettes. Coffee. Bring them, please, and then I’ll get up.”
“We have to pack too.”
“First things first, damn it.”
On the Road: (Vagabonds Book 2) (New Adult Rock Star Romance) Page 2