Betrayal of the Band

by Sarah Tipton

  He probably shouldn’t tell Sawyer this would be Zoey’s song. So he hummed the new music to himself, the lyrics playing through his head.

  God wrote a dream on her heart

  I pray He lets me play a part

  Through good times and bad

  She’ll go where she’s led

  And I want to hold her hand

  Until she reaches the end

  Because God wrote a dream on her heart

  And I pray He lets me play a part

  10

  Fault Line

  Sawyer biked home from work Friday night and drummed his fingers against the handlebars to the concert setlist playing through his head. Over the railroad tracks. Past the restaurant where Mom was working.

  Who would want to listen to a drummer and guitarist making noise? Only people who felt obligated, like parents. Which didn’t include his. Too many waitresses on vacation, so Mom couldn’t get off. She was more disappointed than Sawyer, though it felt good knowing she wanted to see him on stage.

  He cut through a strip mall parking lot. Up ahead in the next block was the ice cream shack. Zoey exited carrying a black garbage bag.

  He scowled. If she hadn’t ditched them, tomorrow night could’ve been a success. She’d destroyed everything.

  He pedaled faster planning to zip past her.

  She dropped the bag into the dumpster and leaned against the rusty metal side.

  He glanced over as he passed. Was she crying? He skidded the bike to a stop. “What’s wrong?” he asked over his shoulder.

  She looked up. “Sawyer?”

  “What’s the matter?” He let the bike fall, stepping out of its way.

  “Nothing.” She rubbed her palms across her cheeks. “You wouldn’t care.”

  He hesitated and shrugged. “Fine.” Grabbing the handlebars, he righted the bike. Maybe it really was nothing. Mom often said when she was crying that it was for no reason other than she needed to cry.

  Behind him, Zoey snuffled.

  Sighing, he let the bike crash to the ground again. Even when Mom said she just needed a good cry, she also said she appreciated when he didn’t leave her alone.

  And Justin had asked him to cut Zoey some slack.

  He walked to stand in front of her. “C’mon, what’s wrong?”

  “Like I said, it’s nothing you’d care about.” She swiped her hands over her face again, not looking at him.

  “Tell me anyway. I’m not leaving until you do.”

  She raised her head. Her eyes were puffy, her nose pink. “I’m going to bomb tomorrow. I know it—everybody knows it.” She sniffed and her mouth tightened. “Which will make you happy, won’t it? You’ll be glad to see me fail.” She turned away. “So just leave, OK?”

  “Zoey.” Sawyer grabbed her shoulder pulling her around to face him. “I don’t want you to fail.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s why you’ve been so understanding since I joined Aurora Fire.” She jerked away. “Forget it, Sawyer, and go home.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been angry because you ditched us, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you fail.”

  Zoey rolled red-rimmed eyes.

  “I don’t,” he insisted. “I think you should be punished, but not by failing.”

  “OK, thanks, I feel tons better now. You got a punishment in mind?”

  “C’mon, Zoey, that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. He shouldn’t have bothered trying to cheer her up. He didn’t do nice. “You know I would’ve done the same thing.”

  “You would?” She gazed at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “You would’ve abandoned me and Justin?”

  “Of course I would. If someone asked me to fill in for their drummer, I’d be stoked. Who’d refuse that?”

  “Justin.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s a little too good sometimes.”

  “Yeah, he is.” She gave him a tiny smile.

  “Look, you’ll be awesome tomorrow.” Sawyer placed both his hands on her arms and smiled back. “If anyone bombs, it’ll be us without you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Zoey’s tears overflowed.

  “Aw, don’t do that again.”

  Her shoulders shook. She stepped closer and rested her forehead against his chest. “I’m so sorry.” The words were muffled by her sobs and his shirt.

  This wasn’t working. He awkwardly patted her back. He’d just made her cry more. Women were way too complicated.

  Zoey’s tears mixed with the sweat dampening his T-shirt.

  Now what? He racked his brain for more words. Could he cheer her up with a drum solo instead? “You’re an awesome vocalist. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “You don’t understand.” Zoey shook her head against his collar bone. “The lyrics get stuck in my throat, like I can’t sing them.”

  “Then change ’em.”

  She jerked her head up. “Change them?”

  “Yeah. Why not? You change lyrics all the time with Justin.”

  “But those are mine—I helped write them. These aren’t.”

  “So?” He stared down at her, his hands resting on her shoulder blades. She was pressed against him, smelling like ice cream and waffle cones, and still clutching his shirt. He wanted to make her believe she could do this. Even if it meant his band failing. “Isn’t changing them better than not singing them?”

  “Yeah, probably.” She gazed at him, her face blotchy. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?”

  “Because we’re friends.”

  “Really? ’Cause I was starting to think you hated me for what I did.”

  His voice caught in his throat. She looked so lost with her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

  “I can’t hate you,” his words came out in barely a whisper.

  She licked her lips, swollen from crying. His chest vibrated with his thudding heart, or maybe it was Zoey’s heart he felt, beating in time with his own. She was so close, her face angled toward him, her shallow breaths hot against his chin. Then, before he realized what he was doing, he kissed her.

  And Zoey kissed him back.

  She tasted sweet and salty. Her hands gripped his ribcage, and he squeezed her shoulders.

  A curse exploded from him, and he shoved her away.

  Zoey stumbled back, her mouth gaping.

  What had he done? One moment she was crying, the next he was kissing her? He swore again.

  “Sawyer?”

  Ignoring Zoey, he hopped on his bike pedaling furiously. What had he been thinking? When Justin found out...

  He spewed a string of curses. Long shadows chased him the three blocks home. Leaving his bike on the lawn, he entered the empty house and slammed the door shut. Justin would kill him. Then Justin, being the kind of guy he was, would give him CPR and bring him back to life.

  Sawyer punched the counter and paced through the kitchen. Of all girls, the first one he ever kissed was Zoey? So what if she was the only girl he could put up with? The only girl who knew what she was talking about when it came to music? She was his best friend’s girlfriend. Eternally off limits.

  But the kiss wasn’t his fault. If Zoey hadn’t thrown herself at him crying on his shoulder, none of it would’ve happened. If Zoey hadn’t ditched them for the summer, she wouldn’t have been crying to begin with. And if Justin hadn’t told him to be nice yesterday, Sawyer might have ignored her. So he wasn’t to blame for any of this. But he didn’t think Justin would agree.

  Sawyer’s entire body twitched. He needed to play, but he couldn’t. His drums lived in Justin’s garage, and Justin’s house was the last place he wanted to be.

  He went to his room and turned on his speakers drowning out his thoughts with heavy metal screams. He wanted to forget Zoey’s tears and how she tasted. Lying on the floor, he did sit ups until his abs burned. Then he forced himself to do more. The pain across his stomach blocked the pain in his heart.

  The music stopped. Sawyer collapsed against the worn carpet and stared up at Mo
m. The black slacks of her waitressing uniform looked impossibly long from this angle. His lungs ached, but he didn’t know if that was because he was breathing too hard to speak or because he hated the thought of her finding out what he’d done. She was one of three people who put up with him and still liked him at the end of the day. He’d betrayed the other two tonight. How long before he failed her too?

  “What’s wrong?” She crossed her arms frowning. “I could hear the music outside.”

  “Everything’s fine.” His wheezing breath covered up the lie.

  “Well, keep it down, OK?” She didn’t look as though she believed him, but she also looked too tired to argue. “I’m going to bed.”

  “OK.”

  With the music at background noise level and Sawyer zapped of strength, his thoughts blasted back into his head.

  Zoey, Justin, the kiss.

  His heart hammered against his ribs. Groaning, he pushed off the floor and scooted against his bed. Zoey couldn’t want Justin to find this out any more than he did. So if they both kept quiet, Justin would never know. That was the only solution.

  He picked up his cell and began texting.

  Don’t tell Justin about

  Sawyer hesitated. Putting the word “kiss” there would guarantee Justin finding out. That’s how it always worked on TV. Idiot texted girl, girl’s boyfriend read text, girl’s boyfriend killed idiot. And he was starring as the idiot. He deleted the message and started again.

  It was a mistake. Forget about it.

  That should be vague enough that if Justin read it, Zoey could make something up.

  He hit send and waited.

  When his phone vibrated, he glanced at the screen.

  OK.

  He blew out a sigh. Good. As long as they agreed to forget the kiss, everything would be fine.

  His heart beat audibly, like a ticking time bomb.

  He was a dead man.

  11

  Welcome to the Masquerade

  Justin stood in the garage and ran over the pre-concert checklist in his mind.

  Mini-van emptied of car seats and winter survival gear.

  Seats folded down for storage.

  Entire van vacuumed.

  Only item left was loading their gear. But Sawyer wasn’t here yet, and he didn’t let anyone touch his drums. He’d taped a sign on them once: Look, live. Touch, die. But Mom tore off the sign.

  Justin picked up his acoustic guitar. The one Vance had taught Justin to play back in junior high. Since then, he’d created twenty, thirty, maybe a hundred songs on that guitar. Most of them Zoey had helped him write.

  His heart caved in on the empty space left by Zoey. He sat on the ottoman and filled the empty the only way he knew how. With music. But the melody his fingers strummed was his new song. The unfinished song.

  Zoey’s song.

  “We’re not playing that tonight.” Sawyer entered the garage on the heels of his declaration.

  “Maybe we should.” Justin carried the guitar to its case.

  “Don’t go changing the setlist.” Sawyer began disassembling the drum kit, his back toward Justin. “We’re gonna suck enough.”

  “Do you think this is right? Playing without Zoey?”

  Sawyer shrugged.

  “Maybe we should’ve canceled.”

  “Too late.”

  Justin wound an amp cord between his palm and elbow. The garage fell silent for a few moments, except for the whistle of the cords across the concrete floor and the quiet snaps of the drum kit. His confidence about their decision to play without Zoey weakened, but nerves before a performance were normal. Though Justin was usually too busy reassuring Zoey to notice his own.

  Zoey. His cell sat in his back pocket, the two texts he’d sent her earlier unanswered. She’d accepted his apology yesterday. Why was she ignoring him again? The empty space in his heart grew, expanded, filled his chest. Things had been weird since she’d joined Aurora Fire. Was it her struggle with the lyrics or Aurora Fire? Or a specific band member? One who was angry with Justin. Who hated him. Who wanted revenge.

  “Zoey wouldn’t cheat on me?” The question ended on a note of disbelief. He was crazy to ask.

  Sawyer cursed over the cymbals crashing against the concrete.

  “Would she?” His voice rose. His hands and feet went cold. He hadn’t been serious.

  “I don’t want to talk about your girlfriend.” Sawyer’s tone was sharp but distant.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Justin clenched and unclenched his fists forcing blood to circulate. Sawyer’s attitude had nothing to do with Justin’s question.

  “Nothing.” A growl filled every syllable. Sawyer’s bad mood on steroids.

  “OK.”

  “Why’re you asking me anyway?” The growl slipped out of his voice, and his tone shifted from snarling pit bull to toothless mutt.

  “I probably shouldn’t. What do you know about relationships?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” Sawyer’s edge returned. He shoved the blanket-wrapped snare into the van. It bumped against the opposite door.

  Great. Justin dragged a hand through his hair. Playing without Zoey was bad enough, but Sawyer banging his drums was worse. Tonight’s concert would be an epic disaster. The best they could hope for was to be loud.

  ~*~

  The final chord blasted from the amp and into the farthest corners of the church fellowship hall. About fifty people were spread around the room. Mostly school and church friends. A few parents including Justin’s. But not Sawyer’s.

  When the applause quieted, Justin thanked them again. “Don’t forget about Zoey. With Aurora Fire, tonight, at the Polar Den.” The under-eighteen crowd here wouldn’t have any problem getting into the all-ages venue. He squinted at the clock in the back. “She goes on in an hour.”

  He switched off the mic and began packing up. No way could they get the gear loaded, back to his house, and put away in under an hour. But he wouldn’t be any later than he had to. He needed to be there to cheer Zoey on—and prove he supported her.

  “Good job.” Dad stopped by the stage with Tristan balanced on his shoulders and Mom and Savannah trailing behind. He sounded sincere, but uncertain. He didn’t know music. His digital library was stuck in the ’80s.

  “Thanks.” The concert hadn’t been a disaster, even without lyrics, but something had definitely been missing on stage, in the songs, in Justin.

  “You’ll be home by one?” Dad’s voice rose, reminding, not asking.

  “Yes, sir.” Justin forced a smile so the words wouldn’t come out annoyed. Negotiating that extra hour had taken two days.

  “I want to go hear Zoey too.” Savannah plunked down on the edge of the stage and crossed her arms.

  Justin’s lungs crammed into his throat. Savannah was too young to hear Aurora Fire. But he couldn’t tell his parents that.

  “I don’t think so.” The words rushed out of Mom’s mouth. Because Polar Den wasn’t appropriate for a ten-year-old? Or because Aurora Fire wasn’t appropriate? “It’s late. Time for us to go home.”

  “Thanks for coming.” Justin’s words were automatic, but sincere. He wanted his parents here, together.

  And he liked watching them leave together.

  “You guys rocked.” Felicia climbed onto the stage aiming her band-groupie gaze at Sawyer.

  “We were OK.” Sawyer spoke with no feeling probably to make her go away.

  “You were awesome,” she said.

  Sawyer’s mouth tightened.

  Justin bit back a smile. Poor girl. The way to get Sawyer’s attention wasn’t by gushing about his playing. If she liked him, she should...

  Justin frowned. What would get Sawyer’s interest?

  Felicia tapped her fingers across a tom tom.

  “Don’t touch.” The words burst from Sawyer’s mouth so quick, there was no space between them.

  Felicia jerked back and shoved her hands into her pockets.

  Justin ducked
his head so they wouldn’t catch him laughing. That definitely wasn’t the way to win him over.

  “I’m thinking about going to see Zoey.” Felicia rocked on her heels.

  “Good.” Justin stacked the cords on an amp.

  “You’re going, right?” she asked Sawyer.

  “Nope.”

  “C’mon.” Justin rolled another cord. “You’ll like their music.”

  “I said no,” Sawyer growled as he detached the snare from its stand.

  Justin frowned. Sure, Sawyer never was a people person, but he was usually in a good mood after a performance—or even band practice. Something about beating on the drums seemed to work out his anger at the world. But not tonight apparently.

  Felicia rocked back and forth a moment longer. Then she offered a tiny smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you guys at church tomorrow.”

  “Bye.” Justin raised his free hand in a wave. “Thanks for coming.”

  She hopped off the stage and melted into the crowd.

  Justin moved to Sawyer’s side. “She’s gone now.”

  “Good.” Sawyer crouched to loosen a bracket.

  “Is she really that bad?”

  “Yes.” Sawyer glanced up. “She knows next to nothing about music, and she touched the drums.”

  “Seriously?” Justin chuckled and reached toward a cymbal.

  “Do it, and I’ll break your finger.”

  “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing.” Sawyer stood, rolling his shoulders back. “Look, let’s get this stuff back to your house. I’ll stay and unload it so you’re not late.”

  “Thanks.” Justin grinned. “Good thing I don’t mind you touching my guitars.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Sawyer crouched back down muttering something that sounded like, “I owe you.”

  Justin frowned. That made no sense. But before he could say something, his cell vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Zoey.

  C U Soon?

  Smiling, Justin typed back.

  30 min. Luv U.

  He slid his phone back into his pocket and finished packing up his gear puzzling over Sawyer’s muttered words. He couldn’t have heard right.

  Why would Sawyer owe Justin?

  12