Chapter Fourteen
Noah
Practice sucks after school today. No matter how much we play, we sound all wrong. It’s like whatever happened on Sunday sucked the will and drive out of us. And the negative feedback online just makes it worse.
I think Elliot is taking it the hardest. He’s been at the drums every chance he gets, as if the harder he practices, the more he’ll wipe the memory of that night out of everyone’s head.
Sighing, I strum a few chords on my guitar. The basement is quiet, except for the music. The guys and I haven’t said much to each other.
“Come on, guys,” I break the silence. “Are we going to feel sorry for ourselves or are we going to practice for our next gig?”
Elliot snorts. “What gig? Last I checked, we haven’t booked any. And we won’t.”
Wyatt shoots his brother a look. “There will always be little kids’ birthday parties,” he teases.
Elliot chucks his drumstick at him, but Wyatt manages to duck in time and the stick slams into the wall.
“We need to do something,” Mateo chimes in. “Something that’ll wow everyone, show them we’re better than that.”
Elliot rolls his eyes. “Got any ideas? We can’t even come up with decent lyrics.”
He’s right. Whatever I tried to write before LRG class today was pure garbage.
Mateo slumps to the floor. “So what now? We’re done?”
“No,” I stress. “We’re not done. Let’s all try to write lyrics and see what we come up with. Maybe I’m not cut out for songwriting.”
Elliot holds up his hands. “No way, man. You’re our lyrics guy. You’ve written some great songs and I know you still have it in you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to let you guys down.”
“Don’t stress, Noah,” Mateo says with an encouraging smile. “You’ll get back into it. We’ve got faith in you.”
“Thanks, but are you sure you still want me to write our songs?”
“Yes,” all three say.
“All right. But let’s not let whatever happened keep us down. Chin up and let’s try again.” I head to my backpack for my bottle of water and check my phone for messages. There’s a text from Evie.
Evie: Hey, you left your notebook in LRG class. I got it for you.
Crap. My notebook. I have a history test tomorrow and planned to study with Wyatt and Mateo after practice. Those two can’t write notes to save their behinds.
Noah: Thanks. I’ll swing by soon to pick it up.
Evie: You and the guys are at band practice, right? I don’t mind dropping it off.
Noah: You don’t have to do that.
Evie: It’s okay. I’ll be there soon.
Noah: Thanks.
Evie: No prob, Shnookums.
I grit my teeth.
“What are you so busy with?” Wyatt calls from where he and the others are munching on chips. “Texting a hot girl?”
I slip my phone into my backpack and join them near Elliot’s drums. “No, just Evie. I forgot my notebook in class and she’s coming by soon to drop it off.”
“So how’s married life?” Mateo asks as he pokes me in the ribs with his elbow. “She driving you up the wall yet?”
I give him a look. “She’s Evie. She always drives me up the wall. But for the most part, it’s okay. I mean, we clash a lot because we disagree on pretty much everything, but I guess the marriage works. You know, for a school assignment.”
They finish their snacks and we resume practicing.
It’s going a little better, since we decided not to let the negative feedback hold us back, but it’s still in the back of our minds.
I’m into it, but insecure thoughts float all around me.
Should we bother if we’re not good enough? Am I wasting my time?
“Wyatt!” his mom calls from upstairs. “There’s a girl here to see you.”
Wyatt perks up. “Think it’s Casey? Maybe she wants me back?”
Elliot snickers. “Fat chance.”
Footsteps sound on the stairs before Evie walks into the basement. Wyatt’s chest deflates, as though he was holding his breath hoping it was his ex-girlfriend. His brother snickers.
“Hey,” Evie says as she waves. “Got your notebook for ya, Noah.”
She’s covered in different paint colors, obviously from painting all afternoon. Evie’s the only one who can get away with it. I know I’ve told her more than once that she looks ridiculous, but the truth is that it’s so her and I can’t imagine her any other way.
I head over to her to take my notebook. “Thanks. You didn’t have to come. I told you I was cool with picking it up.”
She’s barely listening to me as her brown eyes roam around the room. We transformed the place into our band practice room and I’m happy to say it looks amazing.
“Cool place,” she compliments. “Makes you look like the real deal.”
She makes her way over to a chair and sits down, making herself comfortable.
The guys and I exchange a glance.
“What?” she asks as she reaches for the bag of chips and chomps a few down. “Don’t mind me.”
Wyatt chortles. “Did you volunteer to bring Noah his notebook as an excuse to watch us practice?”
“Of course not,” she says as she crunches the chips between her teeth. “I came here because he’s my Shnookums and I couldn’t leave him hanging. I mean, he needs his notes for the test or he might not get an A on it.”
Wyatt and Mateo chuckle. “Shnookums?” Wyatt asks, laughing harder.
I glare at her. “Evie, quit messing around. We need to practice.”
She waves her hand. “Like I said, don’t mind me.” She downs a few more chips, then fetches my bottle of water and takes a sip.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I demand. “Like paint something?”
“Nope.” She looks from me to the others. “You’re not going to kick me out, are you? Because it would be very rude of you to treat Noah’s wife that way.”
Wyatt gestures around the area. “Of course Noah’s wife is welcome here.”
“Cool, thanks. So let’s see you guys in action.” She motions for us to continue.
I keep my eyes on her. “Evie, come on.”
“You come on. After such an intense assignment in LRG class, I can use some relaxation.”
Wyatt claps me on the back. “Let your wife stay, man. What’s the big deal?”
The big deal is that this is important to me and Evie is making a big joke about it. But I don’t say anything because we’re wasting time and I doubt I can get her to leave. Evie does what she wants, when she wants.
“Okay.” I strum a few chords on my guitar. “Give us a beat, Elliot.”
He does and we start playing. I sing into the mic, my eyes darting to Evie every so often. Her eyes are glued to us, studying us.
She frowns, leaping to her feet. “No, no, no.”
We stop playing. “What?” I ask.
She hurries up on the “stage”, which is the center of the room where we’ve set ourselves up. “Something’s not right. I’m not feeling it.” She faces me. “You’re singing fine, but I don’t see the fire in your eyes.”
I rub a hand down my face, trying not to get irritated and frustrated. “I’m fine.”
“No.” She grabs the mic from me. “This is how it’s done.”
She starts singing the song, totally owning it. I have no idea how she knows the lyrics so well, but she sings it perfectly.
I know Evie can sing—I’ve heard her many times—but I never knew just how talented she is. Her voice isn’t just beautiful, it’s strong. Powerful, commanding, but in a soft, kind of way that shouldn’t fit with this type of music, but it does.
I can’t stop staring at her as the music touches me in a way it has never touched me before. I never feel like this when I sing or hear myself.
She finishes the song with a bang and smiles. “So? What do you think?”
“Hastings!” Wyatt bellows. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
She bows. “All thanks to my mom’s genes.”
I don’t know what it is. The way the guys smile at her in awe or that she owned the song and is bragging about it. Maybe it’s insecurity, or my fear that she’s taking something I love away from me. But something makes me snatch the mic from her hand. “That’s not how the song should be sung.”
Her hands shoot to her hips. “I disagree.”
“I disagree. Watch and learn, my darling wife.”
I sing the song the way it should be sung. While Evie sang it softer, I sing it harder, rougher, scratching my voice slightly as I yell into the mic.
“No!” Evie doesn’t bother grabbing the mic back as she sings it her way. I sing it my way, and we go back and forth trying to show the other one up.
The challenge in her eyes is clear, as if telling me I’m no match for her. But I hold my head high, showing her this is my band. Mine and Wyatt’s and Mateo’s and Elliot’s, and she has no place telling us what to do.
“Guys! Guys!” Wyatt calls over our voices. “Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”
Evie and I turn to each other, our eyebrows furrowed.
“Magic!” Wyatt explains. “The two of you singing together is fire. I got it! I know what we need to save the band. We need a girl.”
“What?” Evie says.
He nods, his eyes shining like he discovered the answer to life’s biggest questions. “Our band will have a new look—a better look—with a girl. You know how it is. Guys will see a hot girl up there—”
“What the heck, man?” I demand. “That’s so sexist.”
“Yeah.” Evie glares at him. “That’s so sexist. Tell him, Noah.”
“Wanting Evie in the band because she’s a girl is wrong, Wyatt.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Lots of bands have made it without a girl. What makes you think we need one?”
He shrugs. “Just saying if we have a pretty girl as lead singer, it’ll put us on the map.” He throws his hands up. “Yeah, I know it’s sexist and wrong, but it’s the truth. A pretty girl will bring in more fans.”
I run my hand through my hair.
“He’s right,” Elliot says. “We bombed two gigs, guys. The only thing that can save us is a wow factor. And she’s it.”
I’m about to say something, but he continues. “Wyatt’s also right that you two are magic up there. I can only imagine how incredible it’ll be when you blend your voices together. So what do you say?”
I look at Evie and she looks at me.
“No!” we both say.
“She’s not joining the band,” I say, while she says, “I’m not joining the band.”
Mateo holds up his hands. “I think Wyatt and Elliot are right, Noah. The feedback we got after our last gig could drown us. Could shoot us down before we even have a chance to shine. I think the only way to salvage the Rock’n Jocks is to transform us.
To give us an edge. A wow factor, like Elliot said.
And you and Evie together are a wow factor.
You know they’re right, Noah. You’re just too stubborn and proud to admit it. ”
Evie’s hands go to her hips again. “Did you not hear me? I’m sorry your band is drowning, but I have no interest in joining.”
“But you have an amazing voice,” Mateo tells her. “You sounded great up there. Why not utilize it?”
“Because I’m busy.”
“Painting?” Elliot says in a bored tone as his eyes roam over her hair.
“It’s not just painting, dude. I’m working on my college portfolio.”
He nods in understanding. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Look, I know being in a band isn’t your thing, but you’ll be doing us a solid if you joined. Help us out, please?”
She points at me. “He doesn’t want me, anyway.”
“He does,” Wyatt says. “He’s just too proud to admit it.”
I cross my arms. They have a point. Evie was amazing, but to have her join us?
“Who says Evie can save the band?” I ask. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because she can and you know it,” Wyatt says. “She’s a goddess when she sings.”
Evie frowns at him. “A goddess, really?”
He shrugs helplessly. “You’ve got a gift, Evie. Help us out and save the band. Please.”
I want to veto the whole thing, but the comments I read online flash in my head. They were so negative, so cruel and harsh. I didn’t think we could ever show our face in public again. But if Wyatt is right and Evie can help save the band…
“Please, Evie,” I find myself saying. “I am stubborn and prideful, but I know the guys are right. The band means everything to me. Help us and I’ll owe you forever.”
“Stop messing with me, Noah.”
“I’m not messing with you. Honest. I’m being one thousand percent serious here.”
Her mouth opens, then shuts as she stares at me. Feels like forever until she says in a softer voice, “That day when I picked you up for our date. You seemed very upset about something. Was that…?”
My brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
She watches me for a few more seconds before shaking her head. “Never mind.” She’s about to say something else, but then she keeps her eyes on me again. I must look pretty desperate because she says. “I guess if it means that much to you…”
A breath I didn’t know I was holding escapes my body. “Really?”
She nods. “I love singing, so why not? But I have some conditions.”
“Okay…”
“I’m not wearing a sexy outfit, and I get to make my own decisions, and no way will I do anything that makes me uncomfortable.”
I hold up my hands. “We won’t do anything without your approval. You’ll be an equal member of the band and you’ll get a cut from any money we make. And you can quit any time if you feel like it’s not working.”
She thinks it over for a little bit. “Okay, I agree to those terms.”
Wyatt and Mateo wrap their arms around her while Elliot cheers from where he sits at the drums.
When the guys release her, I hold out my hand to her for a shake. “Welcome to The Rock’n Jocks.”
She twists her nose at my hand. “Really, dude? A handshake?”
“What’s wrong with a handshake?”
Sighing dramatically, she gives me a quick hug and then walks around the room. “This is so exciting! When’s our first practice?”
“Tomorrow,” I say. “It’s getting late and we have that history test to study for.”
She grins. “See you later. Good luck studying.” She heads up the stairs and exits the basement.
“This is going to be epic, guys,” Wyatt tells us. “I know you’re still hesitant, Noah, but you’ll see. She’s the key to everything. And seriously, you guys were magic up there.”
Magic? Me and Evie? More like a science experiment gone wrong. But if the guys claim so, then I guess I’ll believe it. I just hope Evie takes this seriously and doesn’t mess it up for me.
It’s like I said—she’s chaos. But maybe in this case, some chaos is needed because our band can’t survive another bad gig.
I wouldn’t be able to survive another bad gig.
Later, after I’ve gone home and am doing my homework, I send Evie a text.
Noah: I know we already said it, but thanks for doing this, Evie.
Evie: Why are you thanking me? I’m your wife.
Noah: But seriously. Thanks.
Evie: Anything for my Shnookums.
Noah: And you had to ruin it.
Evie: Why? I know you secretly like when I call you that.
Tossing my phone aside, I don’t bother responding.