But she didn’t party after that and she barely even hung out with us as a group. She would often just head to her room. And she started having TT and Bad Dog bring her guitar up to her room so she could write.
The music she was writing now was just as punky/ poppy/ alternate as ever, but the lyrics—her forte anyway—were even darker. Sometime in May, she asked me to collaborate with her on a couple of songs. She had the basic sound, but she knew—after our first album—what I could add to the mix. And, as we got closer to winding down the tour, I realized she had written enough songs for our second album, and—after rehearsing with our bandmates a little—we’d be ready to record it.
But there was no doubt—I was a famous musician well before my eighteenth birthday.
* * *
The last stop on our tour was in Denver in early July—and it was going to be the show we were promised with CJ and crew. And, just thinking about that concert made me realize that I hadn’t talked with him since our little truce/ monk-versus-nun conversation…meaning we’d both admitted we weren’t going to be “faithful” on the road—not that there was anything to be faithful over. I’d kissed the guy. Wanted him desperately. Imagined him in my head when other guys were fucking me. But he’d made it clear that we were not going to have sex until I was eighteen, although it was presumptuous of him to assume I’d want to then.
Ah, who the hell was I kidding? I wanted the guy more than ever…and we were just weeks away from my birthday. I was gonna hold him to it.
My parents were going to come to our concert too, even though I thought that might not be the best idea. They weren’t metalheads, so even if they liked the non-metal rock sounds of my band, they wouldn’t care for Death Crunch. And I intended to watch their part of the concert, because I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of watching them live.
I found myself on pins and needles the day our van first crossed the border into Colorado from Nebraska. I almost begged Andrew to stop the van so I could jump out and kiss the ground, but I instead kept myself contained. I’d already talked to my parents the night before, and I knew I’d see them the soon…but maybe it was time to check in with CJ—if he even cared anymore.
I pulled up my messages and scrolled till I found him. Then I started typing. Looking forward to playing with you tomorrow night.
It was just a minute later that I got a response. I hadn’t expected it so quickly. Likewise.
How’ve you been?
Before he could respond, Barbie asked, “What are you grinning about, Summers?”
I shrugged. I was not going to give that woman any more ammunition for her constant barbs. My phone vibrated again, pulling my attention back to my phone. Not bad but ready to be home for a while. You?
Yeah. Had a blast but a lot of shit went down. Ready to chill for a bit. Then, after pressing Send, I had an afterthought. We’ve already got enough material for our next album.
He responded to my first text with What shit? Then followed it up with Us too.
Lots. Drugs, fighting, sex. I’ll have to tell you about it later.
Yeah, us here too. But let me be clear. I don’t want to hear anything about YOU having sex.
LOL That’s not what I meant. Although I could have told him about lots of horrific things too, I would just tell him a few key events. I was sure he had similar stories.
Good. BTW, isn’t your birthday this month?
I felt all my muscles clench as my smile grew wide once more. I turned in my seat a little bit to keep Barbie’s eyes off me in case she decided to turn around again. Maybe. Why?
He sent a smiley emoticon and then texted, I think you know why.
July 28.
You and me—we have a date on July 27.
The 27th? Why then?
I had to wait a little longer for his reply. Because I’m sure your mom and dad want to spend your 18th birthday with you. No way in hell am I going to make them enemies by stealing you on your special day.
Aw. That was sweet. Why don’t you come to my party on the 28th?
I can. But what about the date?
Wouldn’t miss it. I was feeling so warm and loved right then. See you tomorrow.
See you then, babe.
* * *
Mom and dad asked if they could take me out to dinner before the concert, and Peter—being his control freak self—said that was fine as long as I was at the venue by five PM. When Kelly heard me talking with mom and dad, she said, “Great idea!” and asked her parents to come early too. Barbie, not to be outdone, said she had an entire mother-daughter day planned.
Man, I wasn’t going to mind not being around her smarmy ass for a couple of months.
Dinner with mom and dad was great. Mom commented that I looked like I’d lost weight and both of them said they were proud of me. I had to steer them away from some of the obvious questions they kept veering toward. I could tell they wanted to know how much the road had corrupted me, but we wound up talking first about the adventures I wanted to share with them (and, believe me, I did not throw in the bad stuff), and then they told me what had been happening with them. They were considering going on the road again themselves. At first, that freaked me out, because it had been comforting to know I had something and someone to come home to…but I realized they had their own lives too and needed to be happy. I didn’t want to stand in their way.
Dad then muttered something about tenure and mentioned that they could hit the road when he was on sabbatical or retired. And next mom told me she was considering opening a music store downtown. So were they pulling up stakes or putting down roots?
I couldn’t keep up—and I’d just been there in December. But they seemed happy and they were still together…and I was hoping to make them two of the proudest parents on the planet in a few short hours.
* * *
Wow. The energy in Denver was unlike anywhere else we’d been, but I honestly think it was due to two things. The first was obvious—this was our home state and these folks were proud to say we belonged to them. The feelings were mutual because it was good to be back. The second, though, was something it took me a while to figure out, but it might have been that none of us (with the exception of Vicki) was under the influence of anything. Our minds were clear and our hearts were light. And that was all pre-show. We could just feel it coming from backstage. It was absolutely incredible.
Once I found out Death Crunch was on the premises, I excused myself from my group. I wanted to find CJ. And all it took was for me to turn down the wide hall. He and their guitarist were chatting outside one of the doors. I didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was longer and, when he turned, I was floored by the facial hair he’d grown out and styled on his face. He’d had a little facial hair before, but now that goatee was thick and—very masculine. My legs felt warm and melty. “Hey, CJ!”
“Kyle!” We met in the middle and he picked me up and twirled me around. The strength in his arms made me feel more feminine (girly!) than I usually allowed myself to, but I didn’t break out into giggles. He led me into a room just off the hallway and introduced me to Joe, his drummer, and then Joe excused himself to go have some beer. And as soon as he was out of the room, CJ pressed me against the wall and kissed the shit out of me until I was breathless.
Yeah…I still wanted him. I wanted him bad.
Chapter Thirty
THE FIRST WEEK I was home, I mostly just slept. Not only had I needed it more than I would have thought, but all that sleep helped me drop the bad habits I’d acquired on the road—when I awakened from my little self-induced cocoon (from which I emerged daily to eat at least one meal and spend a couple of hours at night with my parents), I felt fantastic, and I made a vow to not touch a cigarette or even alcohol. It was crazy how great I felt. The road had not been good for me. Sure, it had been wonderful as far as my career, but psychologically and physically, it hadn’t been good.
The Vagabonds had a meeting scheduled in September. Peter was, at that point, g
oing to discuss earnings with us. He said he needed the time to deduct expenses, payment for non-band members, and all that jazz so he could come up with a net profit figure and then divide the spoils. I had no idea what our take was going to be, but I had high hopes. Not only had we had the tour, but we also had merch sales and album sales. I was going to wait patiently, but it was tough. Peter had given us each two hundred dollars for the few weeks apart, and Vicki was the only one who’d complained, and that reason was obvious to me, because I knew she had a horrible habit to feed. I hoped her mom could help her, and I almost felt guilty leaving her to deal with the problem—but it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried.
We were also going to discuss future plans at the meeting—mainly, our next album and how we wanted to go about recording it. Sure, the raw sound was cool, but we wanted something more polished and professional, something that we knew would get more radio play. Liz and I had discussed a lot of those ideas during our writing time together, and she and I were of the same mind as to what direction we should take the band. We figured the other girls would agree, but time would tell.
Before that, though, I had my date with CJ and my birthday…and I couldn’t wait for either.
One morning, three days before my date, mom, dad, and I sat at the breakfast table just like old times. As much as I loved being home, it felt weird. I belonged there…and yet I didn’t, and I couldn’t explain or understand why. Maybe it was because I was already starting to feel like an adult, like I was responsible for myself and my own actions and, when I gave it a good, long look, I concluded that had to be it. After all, the girls and I had dealt with all kinds of adult things and (mostly) survived, things that I thought a lot of kids our age hadn’t had to handle yet. That alone, I thought, had forced us to mature. Well, me, at any rate.
Mom and dad were happy for my fame, but they had other questions, and now that I’d kind of “come down” off my road high (and also the low I’d experienced as I unwound), they were ready to chat. I hadn’t seen it coming.
Dad’s serious tone made me think that, at first, they were going to grill and then chastise me for drug and alcohol use as well as all the stupid indiscriminate sex I’d enjoyed on tour, but they didn’t. “How did your studies go, Kyle?”
I blinked twice, not having expected that question out of all the things he could’ve asked. Well, there was no avoiding it now and there was no way I could lie—on the road, if I’d been hiding behind my cell phone, I could dodge and evade, but it wasn’t going to happen now. “Ah…they were okay.”
Mom asked, “How was your tutor?”
Time to ‘fess up. “Uh…we never did get a tutor.”
“What? That was one of the things Peter promised he would do when we agreed to let you go on tour.”
“He said he was having problems arranging for someone to come with us on the road, and so he had us study websites.”
Dad frowned. Both my parents were college educated, so I knew learning was important to them. “Websites? Like what?”
“Um, he had us pursue areas of interest. I read a lot of Wikipedia articles.” That was not untrue, but I wasn’t going to tell dad that a lot of those articles centered around the music industry, ranging from articles on my favorite bands to various musical instruments, but even articles about various genres in metal and sales certifications in music. Just so I could feel like I’d done a little “school work,” I’d one time typed in the word science and read an in-depth article about the history of science and various branches, and I’d clicked links and read other pages, but that was early in the tour, long before sex and drugs and partying had taken over. And halfway through the tour, the Vagabonds had their own Wikipedia page, and I hadn’t found out because I’d been looking on my own. TT had found it, maybe prompted by someone he knew telling him, but he’d had the decency to share it with us.
“Wikipedia? That’s it?”
I wanted to point to other things, but that was the extent of my online learning, and I knew none of us had done much of anything. Liz might have spent a little more time at first, but by the end, education had been the last thing on our minds. We weren’t even reading books. There was nothing on our plates. So I had nothing else to report to my parents except the truth. “Yeah.”
That was when dad got pissed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I set my fork down and grabbed my coffee cup. “I don’t know, dad. I just didn’t think about it. We were so busy with—”
“Your education is important, Kyle. Yeah, right now you have a promising career as a rock star. But what if that doesn’t continue to pan out…or what if you decide in a few years that you hate it? You’re not going to be able to just walk into a college and demand an education. You don’t have your high school diploma and you’ve got no GED.” I took a long drink of coffee while I absorbed his words. By the time I set my cup down, his tone had calmed—but that didn’t mean I’d like what he had to say. “I have half a mind to make you go back to WHS this fall—as a junior—so you can catch up on all you missed. Except I wonder how well you’d do, considering you’ve let your brain deteriorate by not feeding it.”
Oh, I’d done far more than that to my poor brain, but I wasn’t going to say that. Mom said, “I’m disappointed in Peter for not keeping up his end of the bargain, but why can’t you teach her here at home, honey? Kyle’s not new to learning in an alternate fashion.”
God, I was over it. Here was the problem about feeling like an adult when I wasn’t really there yet—I couldn’t yet emancipate…not till July 28. Besides that, though, I loved my parents and respected their opinions. The only thing I knew now is that I did not want to go back to school. That felt like a step backwards. Besides, if my life took the path that I wanted it to, I wouldn’t need the education they wanted me to pursue. “Science and math aren’t my thing. She’s going to need more than I can give her in those realms.”
“Okay, well, what about the online alternate high school? Why don’t we have her do that? She could even do it while on the road—and it would keep her more accountable than Peter apparently thought to.”
Oh, God, no. I didn’t want any more school. I had no issues with learning, but I was tired of formal education, and—after living as an adult, forced to be mostly responsible for myself—I wasn’t going to do it. Maybe someday but not now. Being an impetuous teen played into that some as well. “I’ll just get my GED.” Oops. I’d blurted it out without much thought.
“Your GED, Kyle? That’s what kids—” Dad stopped himself. He knew better. Back in his day, the GED might have been for what he might consider “losers,” but it wasn’t the same today. Lots of kids didn’t go the traditional route for lots of reasons. But that wasn’t why dad had paused. “Fine. Get your GED. At least you can get into a community college with it later if you need to. I just…” He took in a deep breath through his nose before continuing. “You’re a smart girl, Kyle, and I feel like you’re selling yourself short.”
I couldn’t force the smile but I could find the words. “I’ve found my calling, dad. Nothing else really matters.”
Okay, there was one other thing that mattered to me…and it kind of went hand in hand with the first thing…
Chapter Thirty-one
EXACTLY WHAT THE fuck was wrong with me? Seriously.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, shaking my head. Yeah, I looked good, but what the fuck was I thinking?
Ah, hell, I knew exactly what I was doing. My reflection was just shocking; that was all.
At least the dress was black…and the skirt was short. It was simple but it showed off my curves and quite a bit of skin, more than CJ had ever seen from me before. And that was my mission—to drive him completely out of his mind. Why? Because I’d been thinking about the fact that he’d asked me out on the day before my birthday—so I was still going to have to wait.
I was going to make him regret it.
When he’d called a few days earlier to make sure we
were still on, I’d had that brilliant flash, so I said, “I think I’ll wear a dress.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s a special occasion, right? So I should look nice.”
He was quiet for a second and then said, “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll dress up too.”
So I’d been dying of curiosity, wondering what he was going to do to “dress up.” God. Could I be trusted to keep my hands to myself?
Everything else about me was the same—my makeup, my hair, my jewelry. Oh…but I was also wearing a spicy perfume that I hoped would drive him wild if he got close.
I heard the doorbell ring and felt a jolt of nervous energy travel through my veins. CJ and I had been friends for over a year, so I didn’t understand why I was freaking out now. No…that wasn’t true. I knew. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.
It was thanks to the dress that I understood why girls carried purses all the time. Dresses didn’t have pockets everywhere and, in the summer, there was no wearing a jacket—so I was carrying a purse, something rare for me, and I wound up borrowing one of my mom’s, a tiny flat silver sequined thing that I hoped I wouldn’t accidentally leave behind somewhere.
I heard CJ talking with my parents downstairs, and the conversation sounded friendly and polite. But, God, I needed to spare him. I knew my parents could be intense on occasion.
I saw him as I walked down the stairs and appreciated the look on his face. He liked what he saw—and I loved what I was hearing. Mom and dad were telling him how much they liked his concert, and they were impressed at his writing skills.
Wow. I was impressed at how much they knew.
And then I noticed that CJ really had dressed the part, too. He was wearing a fucking suit and tie. Oh, my God. I guess I really was growing up…and that freaked me out. A lot.
On the Road: (Vagabonds Book 2) (New Adult Rock Star Romance) Page 19