Chapter Eighteen
Evie
After days of busting my butt learning the lyrics to the song Noah and I wrote together and their old songs and practicing with the rest of the band every night, the moment has finally arrived! We have our first gig tonight.
Well, it’s my first gig. But the guys sort of feel like it’s their first gig, too, because they’re a new and improved version of The Rock’n Jocks.
It’s a good thing it’s a Saturday night, so I don’t have to worry about making excuses to my parents on a school night. Considering Noah is still not ready to tell his family he’s in a band, I need to keep it to myself as well, because our parents share everything with each other.
The five of us are now riding in the van to another town. Luckily, it’s not too far from Edenbury. Penny and Hannah helped me pick out the perfect outfit earlier—a dark blue dress with black boots—something that’s not too sexy, but pretty enough so I don’t give the band a bad rep.
“You nervous, wow factor?” Mateo asks me.
Wyatt and Noah glance at me to see my reaction as well, and Elliot looks at me through the rearview mirror.
I shrug. “Not too nervous, surprisingly. The songs are great and our music is amazing. I just hope I don’t mess up and give you guys a bad name.”
Someone places his hand on my back and pats it. I’m surprised to see that it’s Noah. With a reassuring smile, he says, “Don’t worry about that. Just focus on the songs and have fun. I know you’ll be amazing.”
His words cause a warm feeling to spread through my body.
Trying to ignore it, I throw a grin at Mateo and Wyatt. “My husband is the sweetest, isn’t he?”
Wyatt pinches Noah’s cheek. “He sure is.”
Noah whacks his hand away. “Lay off me, man.”
I bend forward to pinch his other cheek. “But you are.”
“Evie!” He whacks my hand away, too.
Mateo, Wyatt, and I exchange chuckles.
“The guy who owns the club is aware of the feedback we got online,” Elliot tells us as he slows down before a red light. “Not trying to stress you out, but just be aware that he’ll be watching us like a hawk.”
Mateo puffs out some air. “How can I not stress about that?”
“Hey, you’ll be amazing,” I tell him with a smile. “You all will be. Noah gave me good advice, and you should take it to heart, too. Let’s not worry about what all the jerks are saying online and just have fun.”
Wyatt and Mateo cheer and high-five each other while Elliot smiles. Noah doesn’t smile or laugh or say anything. He seems stressed out. I want to tell him to try to let go and enjoy tonight, but I know my words won’t affect him. He’ll worry about it tonight and the whole next week.
As we pull into the club’s lot, butterflies flap around in my stomach and my head spins. Okay…I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.
The guys get out of the van and start unloading all of our instruments and equipment while I just sit here with my fingers wringing in my lap.
Mateo sticks his head through the open door. “You coming, Evie?”
I blink and look at him. “What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Sliding out of the van, I wipe my sweaty palms on the bottom of my dress, my heart starting to pound.
It’s so strong that my stomach somersaults.
But I try to shove the feeling away and focus on helping my bandmates carry all of our equipment into the club.
There’s a small stage where we could set up.
There isn’t a curtain on the stage, so many of the people watch us curiously, probably wondering who the heck we are. There aren’t any posters on the wall informing anyone of who we are. Maybe that’s for the best in case we do choke.
No, I don’t want to be negative. The guys and I will knock this out of the park.
As the guys set up the heavier equipment, I head back out to the van to make sure we didn’t forget anything. But when I’m about to head back inside, I hear a group of people making their way inside say, “Who did you say was playing tonight?”
“Not sure. Some band called The Rock’n Jocks? I don’t think they’re from around here.”
“Hope they’re good,” another says. “I’m sick and tired of listening to all these wanna-be talentless bands trying to break into the industry. Not everyone who owns a guitar can be successful.”
“I hear you…” Their voices grow fainter as they enter the club. “My voice is still hoarse from the last band I booed off the stage…”
Again, it feels like my head is spinning. I grab onto the side of the van to steady myself as it worsens. Oh my gosh, am I having a stroke or something?
I’m going to throw up. Yep, throw up every single thing I ate today.
“Evie?” Someone puts a hand on my shoulder.
Through the whoosh whoosh in my head, I can tell it’s Noah.
“Evie, what’s wrong?” He gently puts his other hand on my shoulder and turns me around to face him.
His eyes nearly roll off his face. “You’re so pale!
Are you okay?” He reaches into the van and plucks out a water bottle, uncapping it and handing it to me.
“Thanks.” Bringing it to my mouth, I gulp some of it down. It feels good. Maybe I was just thirsty?
But as I hand him back the water bottle, the same feeling returns. I clutch the front of his shirt as I start to sway.
His eyes widen even more. “Evie, you’re freaking me out.”
“Sorry, I just need to sit down…”
He helps me into the van and slides in next to me, eyes looking over every inch of me with the most worried expression I’ve ever seen on him.
“I’m okay,” I assure him with a weak smile. “I don’t know what came over me. I…” I glance toward the entrance to the club, where more guests are arriving. “Noah, I don’t think I can do this.”
His brows shoot up. “What do you mean? You’re not feeling well?” He places his hand on my forehead. “You don’t seem sick.”
“I think this is more of an emotional ailment,” I mutter.
“Emotional…?” He looks totally befuddled. Then his eyes light up with understanding. He places his hand on my arm. “You’re nervous.”
“What? No, I’m not…” My brows dip. “Oh. Is that it?” I take a deep, shaky breath and let it seep out of my nose. “Yeah, I guess I am. I thought I was fine, but apparently not.” I laugh softly. “So much for my confidence.”
Noah’s hand slides down my arm until his fingers intertwine with mine. “Hey, I get that you’re nervous,” he says softly. “Everyone gets nervous before a performance. Especially their first one.”
“I’ve never sung in public before,” I admit.
“I mean, other than my family and friends. I guess I have more of my mom’s shy genes than I thought,” I add with a nervous laugh.
She was in her high school choir and had such bad stage fright that she refused to have a solo, something she yearned for.
But Dad and her friends helped her overcome her anxiety.
“Honestly, I was surprised you weren’t more nervous,” Noah tells me with a reassuring smile. “When the guys and I had our first gig, I almost didn’t show up.”
I gape at him. “Perfect Noah Barrington almost ditched his friends?”
He laughs lightly. “Just shows how nervous I was. And when I finally worked up the courage to get there—mainly because Elliot threatened me if I didn’t show up—I spent a good while in the bathroom bent over a toilet and waiting for my stomach to explode.”
“No…”
He nods. “Yes.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I can’t picture you sitting on the floor bent over a toilet ready to puke your guts out.”
Noah laughs, too. “Ask the guys. They’ll confirm my story.”
“So how did you get over it?” I ask.
He’s quiet as he thinks over my words. “Honestly? I didn’t. I was terrified of Elliot.”
That makes me laugh again.
“But once I got on stage, everything and everyone disappeared. It was just me, the guys, the music, and the lyrics. And you know what happened?”
“You were such an amazing little rockstar that every female in the room fell down to her knees before you and begged you to marry her.”
Noah gives me an exasperated look. “Even when we’re having a serious conversation, you goof off.”
I playfully slug his shoulder. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“You’re always trying to lighten the mood,” he mutters.
“You don’t try to lighten the mood enough.”
He sighs like he doesn’t know what to do with me.
“So what happened?” I ask.
He gives me a sweet smile as his eyes light up with the memory.
“They loved us. I was thrown back into the real world as everyone erupted in cheers. You have no idea how amazing that felt, Evie. And you can experience that, too. No, you will experience it. You’re an amazing singer and have great stage presence. The audience will love you.”
I wave my hand. “I don’t know about that…”
“Of course they will. And remember—you won’t be up there alone. I’ll be standing right next to you and the guys will be right behind us. We’re one team, one unit. We have each other’s backs.”
I take a deep breath and slowly release it as his words settle in my brain.
He’s right. What am I so nervous about? I want to have fun out there.
Enjoy every second of it. I want to bring joy to people, see the smiles on their faces as our music and songs touch their souls.
It’s time to shove away any insecurity I have and be a boss out there.
With a genuine, large smile, I say, “What are we doing out here when we should be on that stage?”
Noah returns my smile and gets out of the van, holding his hand out to me. My gaze drops to it for a second, and then I slide mine inside. He tightens his hold on my hand as he leads me into the club, where the rest of the guys are nervously pacing.
“There you are!” Wyatt says, his tone full of relief. “We didn’t know what happened to you.” His eyes fall to our interlocked hands.
“Sorry, it was my bad,” I say as Noah and I wrench our hands off each other’s. “I was nervous and needed a minute. But I’m okay now.”
“You sure?” Mateo asks. “Take however long you need to feel comfortable. We’re not on for another five minutes.”
“Thanks, but I’m okay.”
For the next five minutes, the guys and I silently sing the songs to ourselves to make sure we know them inside out. The last thing we need is to blank on stage. Noah glances at me from time to time like he’s worried I’m not feeling okay, but he has nothing to fear because I’m good.
“You guys ready?” the owner of the club asks us.
Elliot nods with a nervous sigh. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”
Since there’s no curtain, the guy introduces us as we get settled on the stage. There are no bright lights or anything in here, nothing to shield me from the penetrating gazes of every single person in the club. Geez, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so exposed before.
“Remember,” Mateo whispers. “Let’s have fun and enjoy ourselves.”
Elliot gives us a beat and we start to play.
We’re all a little shaky because we’re so nervous, but then we get into the groove of it.
Noah and I sing together flawlessly, our voices blending like they were born to be together, our harmonies impeccable.
I move around on the stage like I own it, smiling as the audience cheers.
Every time I manage to sneak a glance at the guys, I notice them trying to fight smiles.
And Noah? Noah Barrington, the dude who barely smiles or shows any joy or enthusiasm…
he’s trying to battle the largest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.
He’s in his element, his face shining like this is where he belongs. Why does he want to give it up for football?
We’re totally and completely killing it. And the audience is so into it that they’re whooping and cheering. Their energy fuels ours and causes us to knock it way out of the park.
We finish the last song with Noah and me back-to-back, with my arms crossed over my chest. At once, the audience claps and cheers even louder, some of them demanding an encore.
“The Rock’n Jocks!” they cheer. “The Rock’n Jocks! Encore! Encore!”
With my chest rising and falling rapidly, I glance at Noah. He has a bit of sweat gathered on his forehead and his face is flushed with so many emotions. Emotions I can actually see. Glee, happiness, joy, relief. And a pride one can only feel for something he is extremely passionate about.
He and I stare at each other with wide smiles, both of our chests heaving. We did it. I can’t believe we did it. The audience loves us.
“Encore!” they continue to chant. “Encore!”
With a confidence I’ve never seen on him, Noah grabs the mic. “You want an encore?”
“Yeah!” they shout.
“I didn’t hear you!” he says. “What do you guys want?”
“Encore!”
“You and the girl are amazing!” someone yells.
“Best music duo ever!”
“Your voices blend together perfectly!”
“Such beautiful harmonies!”
“Encore! Encore!”
With a grin, Noah turns to us. “Let’s give the people what they want.”
This time, we’re more pumped than before and really put on a show. By the time we’re done, we’re all sweaty and can barely breathe, and we all look like we just won a billion bucks. Wow, Noah was right. This feels amazing.
The audience demands for more, but I bet we’d collapse if we try to go again. So we wish them good night and run off the stage.
“Did you see that?” Elliot grabs his brother in for a hug. “They were crazy about us.”
“We’re back!” Mateo hugs the guys. “The Rock’n Jocks are back and better than ever. Thanks to our amazing Evie Hastings.” He throws his arms around me and gives me such a massive hug that I wonder if my ribs will crack.
“It’s not just me,” I say as I hug Wyatt and Elliot, too.
“We were all amazing. We put everything into this, and it showed. And we have such a passionate male lead singer. We couldn’t have done it without you, Noah.
” I fling my arms around him and hug him super tightly.
I’ve hugged this dude in the past…but not like this.
This feels different. Very different. So different that I yank my arms off him and stumble back, just as he does the same.
“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks red. “But Mateo is right, Evie. You were the star tonight. You shone brighter than any of us. Thanks so much for agreeing to be part of the band. You’ve changed our lives.”
Wyatt snickers. “Way to be dramatic.”
That causes us to laugh.
“Thanks, but we were all amazing,” I repeat. “And I can’t wait to perform with you guys again.”
“Celebration at Mikey’s!” Wyatt yells as he raises a fist in the air.
“Heck yeah!” we agree.