7. Mari
Iswelled with pride as the Marching Black Bears made Green Valley look great during the halftime show in the game against Merryville High. I couldn’t focus much on the game as I kept looking for a curly-haired man. The coach didn’t seem happy. Not that Nick ever seemed happy. Poor Coach Easton was beaten down and worked way too hard. And that said something coming from me.
The marching band killed the halftime show. The air was electric; the crowd screaming louder at Cath’s drum solo on the quads, backed up by the snare line, than they had at the one and only touchdown. The rest of the band wiggled their fingers in support as she hammered out the insane tempo. Her face remained unchanged with her success, but her eyes flicked up into the stands as if looking for someone.
Leo was nowhere to be seen. We’d set up Cath to show off to him, and he’d not even bothered. My chest seized with a familiar defeat.
That spineless little jellyfish.
I stood trying to summon the anger, trying to find a way to use it to catapult me into my next choice. My whole life felt like moving one foot after the other, trying to find my footing, acting without thought. Disappointment after disappointment.
But now, I couldn’t muster offense. As Cath performed her incredible solo on the quad, I felt a crushing sadness. It wasn’t enough that her parents were here, they were already stretched so thin. She looked up to Leo, idolized him, in fact. Not that I would tell him that. He already walked around with massive neck muscles from holding up that giant head. Metaphorically. To be fair, he did have good muscles and was perfectly proportioned.
I shook my head.
Cath needed a mentor. A helping hand. When I’d suggested Leo, she’d been more excited than I’d seen in ages. I wanted to give that to her. What was this guy so afraid of that the thought of a little girl made him hide out? I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Her future was more important than whatever else he had going on.
The crowd went wild with cheers as the band finished. Clara came to my side as the band jogged back to their seats in the stands.
“They sound really good,” she said.
“Thanks,” I beamed, slightly breathless.
“Cath is just . . .” Clara started.
“I know. So good.” I shook my head. “I’m going to go to jail. Sheriff James is gonna put me away.”
Her head snapped toward me. “What happened?”
“Nothing yet. But Leo didn’t show up, and I cannot be responsible for what I do next.”
A knowing grin transformed her features. “Did you know I was a bit of a wild child in my youth?”
“I heard rumors . . .”
“It’s the past, and I don’t think about it. I spent a lot of time doing unmentionable things under the bleachers. All the ne’er-do-wells did.”
“I’m aware.” I had never been there. I was too much of a Goody Two-shoes and busy playing the flute. “Where are you going with this?” I asked.
“I always look there now. Just to see if the kids today still do it.”
“And?”
“They do. But tonight I happened to see a shaggy-haired grown man hiding down there in glasses and toboggan,” she said.
“Who wears a beanie in this heat?” We’d debated the term for a winter cap before and called a truce. Her time away had changed her.
“People hiding out.”
“I’m going to get him and give him a piece of my mind.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that.” She grinned mischievously.
I stomped away and found the side entrance under the bleachers. Sure enough, tucked in the shadows like he thought himself a small-town Batman was Leo.
He had his phone out, thumb flicking through an app as he leaned against the metal supports. When he noticed a presence, he straightened and tucked his phone away. When he realized it was me stomping toward him, his eyes went wide. He lifted a hand to mess with his hair but dropped it when he found the beanie.
The rush of relief that flooded me at the sight of him must have been due to Cath. I would tell her that he showed up to watch her after all. That flutter in my chest was because he hadn’t disappointed her.
“Look who’s hiding,” I said as I stopped in front of him. I’d perfected my unimpressed look in high school. It was hard-earned by having two older brothers who teased me relentlessly for any interests they deemed “uncool.” Which were all of them. Thankfully, the look didn’t take much since my mouth sort of fell into a downturned line, and my large eyes naturally narrowed. Ironically, when I was most relaxed, I came across as most pissed off.
Leo straightened and glanced up into the stands. “I’m not big on crowds.”
“That’s helpful for a career as a rock star.”
He looked away. “I didn’t think, uh...” He gave up the fight and tugged off the cap to run his fingers through his hair. “I just didn’t want to make a scene.”
“Yes, the big celebrity might steal the show,” I mocked.
He frowned. “No, I just—” His mouth shut, and his pronounced Adam’s apple moved up and down. He shook his head as if trying to find the words.
If it weren’t for the fact that he was a professional performer, he almost looked nervous being here. Was he that afraid people would want to talk to him? Nobody in Green Valley would ask for an autograph or something embarrassing. No offense, I thought, but most people couldn’t even name a famous drummer outside Ringo Starr. I still felt bad for my snark. I was jacked up on sweet tea and in defense mode, and he was here, wasn’t he? Despite being notably reclusive since moving back.
“Is that why you’re lurking?” I asked, stepping closer and softening my voice.
“Not lurking. Just enjoying the ambiance.” He looked me up and down as he said it, then moved his gaze away quickly. I was in jeans and a Black Bears shirt, yet the look had me wondering if I accidentally left the house in only my bra. Being down here did something to me I hadn’t expected. I was humming with adrenaline. Was this what it would have been like as a kid? All those people so close but nobody watching us. It did make me want to do something naughty.
Yes, thinking the word naughty made me “cringe” or whatever the kids said.
“Oh yes, like spring in Paris,” I said.
I swallowed and glanced away and around. No cigarette butts, but graffiti from decades of burnouts and truants and an excessive amount of chewing gum. Seriously, hundreds of multicolored blobs. At what point would it impact the structural integrity of the seats? I looked back at Leo, who was still watching me expectantly. He wasn’t a great conversationalist, but when I caught him looking at me, his neck flushed, and he looked away.
I studied him. He wore sweats and a well-worn Rush tee, but his tall, fit form gave him the natural vibe of a rebel.
“You look like you should be angstily smoking a cigarette and have a pack rolled up in the sleeve of your white tee shirt,” I said.
“Was the last movie you watched starring James Dean by any chance?” he asked. There was the soft, rich voice. I had thought all drummers were egotistical, based on a lifetime of experiences with them: loud and obnoxious show-offs. But Leo looked like he hated taking up space. His shoulders were sort of hunched and his head tucked forward in an attempt not to come across so large. Even his constant fussing with his hair felt like an attempt to push himself down.
Interesting. Maybe he had been hiding down here, but not because he was afraid of a random fan.
I tried to find a comfortable way to lean against the inverse staircase, but I just ended up bonking my head on the corner of a step. I played it off, hoping he didn’t notice.
He did.
He bit back a smile and said, “I do that a lot. My mom called me ‘Lumpy’ for years after my growth spurt.” He gestured to his head.
I’d expected him to tease me, make fun of me, or use the opportunity to brag, but he’d deflected my embarrassment and shone it on himself. This was a far cry from the egotistical, flamboyant musician I’d painted in my head. In the shadow of the bleachers and with that self-deprecating grin, he seemed different from the man I’d rudely awoken.
This was Devlin’s fault. He purposely wound me up so I’d go off on Leo. Except I knew myself, and I could have used any excuse to take my frustrations out on someone.
There was a slight chance I could be rash.
“I would really love to know what you’re thinking right now,” Leo said. He flushed and looked away as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
We’d stepped closer when I hadn’t been paying attention. I pulled my ponytail off my neck, fanning it. It was unseasonably warm, and the hundreds of bodies above didn’t help. You’d think it would be impossible to hear each other, especially as the game started again and people were yelling and stomping just above our heads. Yet there was an intimacy down here like we were in our own little bubble.
“I was just thinking if I found a long enough stick, I could jab Principal Pin Dick in the backside.”
He chuckled. “Is that what you call him?”
“It suits him, I think. He’s got that PDE—Pin Dick Energy.”
This time, he laughed, and it lit up his whole face. Dimples popped out, transforming his features. These dimples inspired the online fan-made videos of him drumming, overlaid with music and special effects highlighting his incredible physique or the secret, shy grins he sent his bandmates as he played. Those zoomed-in shots when he thought nobody was looking, where his head dropped back and his focus took over, were the definition of sexy.
Lordy, he was attractive and there was nary a drum kit in sight. It must have just been the memory of watching those videos. The sweat dripping from his dark curls, glistening his abs—because, of course, he would take his shirt off during performances—the delicate way he held his drumsticks, firm but loose.
That finger dexterity though . . .
I stepped back as feet stomped with a roar of cheers above us. I cleared my throat to hide the burning and instant heat that flushed through me.
How could my body feel so much electricity for this man when my brain booed from the cheap seats and chanted, Focus on the plan!
I didn’t think this sort of attraction was a real thing. I was the type that admired intelligence, compassion, and hard work ethics. This slacker was the antithesis of all that. Time to get this show back on track.
“What did you think of Cath?” I asked.
He stepped back as well to glance in the crack where he must have been watching the performance. “She’s great.” He tucked his hands in his jeans and lifted his shoulders to his ears. “That was never in doubt.”
“Then you agree to help her?” I asked hopefully.
“It’s not that. I-I don’t think that I’m the best—” He took a breath in and out, unable to complete a single sentence. When he found me waiting, it was like he was trying to muster the words, trying to read something off me. He’d gone quiet again as something he’d seen on me held him back. He wouldn’t just say no. He waited for me to speak. He wanted me to tell him that it wasn’t going to work because he couldn’t just say the truth.
I had thought we were warming up to each other, but his inability to be honest was infuriating.
I left my features blank.
“She’s incredible,” Leo finally said slowly and carefully. “But impressive drumrolls on quads won’t be enough for somewhere like Berklee. How is she on a full set? How’s her jazz drumming? All these things would be required on an entrance audition, right?”
Had he researched what sort of requirements she might have? Was that a tinge of hope I felt?
“She’s incredible. On a full set too. Playing rock or jazz. Whatever you throw at her, she can do it,” I said, attempting to keep myself relaxed.
He glanced to the side, and I felt him getting ready to make an excuse. I was starting to soften toward the dingus, and I didn’t want to do something that might piss him off. I reached for my phone in my back pocket and searched the calendar for the next several weeks. “Come to dinner with me.”
He stilled, holding my gaze, when I looked up from my phone. “You want me to go out with you? In public?”
“Next Saturday. At the Front Porch. The jazz quartet is doing a dinner show,” I said.
“Oh. Right,” he said, staring at the ground.
“We also have our first full symphony performance in October. That’s a bit of a ways away, but that will be good. Oh, and we’re performing at the Fall Festival. That should be fun. You should come to all of them.” I locked my phone screen. His face had taken a greenish tint.
“I’m not sure about my calendar.” He avoided my gaze as I put away my phone.
“It would be good for you to see her.” I kept my voice even and proudly did not call him any names.
“You go to all of these?”
“Yeah, of course. I think you should try to make it. At least Saturday.”
“To the Front Porch?”
“Yep. I’m not directing for this one, more like moral support. Make sure they get set up and everything. They won’t need me while they play, but I like to be there to ensure it goes smoothly. And I want to talk to the owner about some donations. It’s a free concert, but I hope they will consider donating after that. That’s another reason I like to go. Feed two birds with one scone.”
The words were flying out of my mouth before I could stop them. I couldn’t help myself. This band, these kids, they were my life. I had to admit, Leo had a way of making me chatty. Maybe because he was as quiet as a church mouse.
That or I was more lonely than I thought.
Nope. We were not thinking about that.
“Scone?” His brows lifted with amusement.
“A less violent analogy,” I explained.
He looked at the ground again, so I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought I saw a hint of a smile. “Good album name,” he said.
It was my turn to hide a smile.
“Okay.” He met my eyes. “I’ll try to make Saturday work.”
“And then?” I crossed my arms.
“Then we’ll see.” He was tugging at his hair again.
“Need I remind you of the marching band alarm clock?”
“Need I remind you of restraining orders?”
I bit my tongue to keep from grinning. “Fine. Just be there. And try to dress better.”
His dark brows lifted as he looked down at himself. “It’s Green Valley.”
“It’s our nicest steak house. If you insist on wearing Adidas slides and sweats, I’ll pretend I don’t know you. Not when I’m working my magic with the owner.”
“Now I really have to go. If for nothing else than to see you sic yourself on someone besides me. Does the rest of the town know about your hidden dark side?”
“Oh, shut up.” I turned and started to walk away before the kids started to wonder where I went. “See you Saturday,” I called over my shoulder.
A thrill of excitement trickled down my neck. I clamped the feeling down, even as I wondered if I had any nice clothes that weren’t all black business casual for performances. It might be nice to get a little dressed up. Just for myself.