Chapter 11 #2
“I’m drawing next,” I announce, hoping for a song DC sings.
Something inside me whispers Jude every time I look at him, and it’s a warm fuzzy feeling I wish I could keep. I pull out “Hanging by a Moment” in his unmistakable left leaning print. He says it’s more comfortable to play guitar when he sings this one, but I love the bass part.
“Can you sing and play the bass on this?” I ask him, showing him the song I drew from the mug
“I can, but it won’t be great. It’ll be better if we strip it down.” DC looks at me like he’d do anything to make me happy. I think we’ve had way too much eye contact today. The music high is making me delirious.
“Okay, surprise me,” I say, because I’m all in regardless.
Jace looks between us, gauging our responses. “We could do ‘You and Me’ if you want to sing that together.”
“No.” DC and I veto in unison.
Jace nods with a smirk. “Okay then.”
Sam stands up to talk over the drums while people yell out songs. Some are great suggestions, but my heart’s set on this song now.
DC sings Lifehouse songs like he wrote them. He’s the only one with enough grit in his voice, and I’m helpless to resist, but we’ve had an intense twenty-four hours, and we’re not touching “You and Me” with a ten-foot pole.
I know it. He knows it. And it appears Jace has figured it out too, although kudos to him for singing Annie’s favorite song.
Hair metal is my go-to for a reason. I’ll sing anything, but sometimes deeper songs hit too hard. And my heart would unravel stitch by stitch if I let it.
I can’t go around singing my innermost thoughts out loud. It’s like saying “Beetlejuice” three times, and I don’t need any feelings sneaking up on me. Those suckers stay buried in a can in the backyard where they belong.
I motion them to go ahead. “However you want to do it. It’s always good.”
They talk about the intro for a minute, and Daniel pulls a stool next to his for me. He picks up my favorite Martin acoustic, and Jace switches to the wine-red Gibson Les Paul. These guitars sound amazing together, but it takes them a minute to adjust to this song’s funky tuning.
Sam picks up DC’s bass and starts running through the intro—which is fine, I suppose.
He must be recording a loop because he’s tapping pedals.
I’ve seen him do this before since there’s only three of them.
Then he picks up his sticks and I’m not sure how he plans to pull off both, but if anyone can do it, it’s Sam.
There’s a moodiness Daniel captures with the bass that the others don’t, but if he’s going all in on the vocals—
“No pressure, but this is all I wanted today.” Daniel hands me his phone, and I assume he wants me to pull up the lyrics. The last message from me is still on his screen.
I smile at my name saved as "Punk" in his phone—down to the hearts and hang loose emojis I use most.
He’s not the first person to call me Punk, but it’s one reason I’ve tried to lock him securely in the friends and family section of my heart. It sounds like something a guy would call his sister.
I’m going to miss this.
It’ll hurt like heck when we can’t hold this place in each other’s lives anymore.
I try to give him space so I don’t bump his arm while he plays, but he pulls his guitar to the left and reaches for my stool, sliding me close so he can see the lyrics on his screen.
“Okay.” He runs his hand over my back, giving me tingles before squeezing my shoulder. “‘Hanging by a Moment’ won’t be any easier, you know?” he says quietly with zero playfulness. “It’ll be worse. But I can hear it in my mind, and I have to sing it … with you.”
Zero double meaning.
Zero flirty ambiguity.
Does he feel this too?
I just nod. The day that’s going to hurt like heck feels like it’s getting closer.
He nods to the guys, and Sam counts us in.
He’s mesmerizing on the lower first chorus. I sit back and watch him in awe before I come in on the second verse, thinking about harmony and timing and anything to keep my stupid emotions under control. The angst sounds good though, and we’re killing it.
Or it’s killing us.
Same thing.
Jace watches us with a pained expression. Great. He’s the only person I know with a more scathing tongue than I have myself, and I’m probably going to be on the receiving end again very soon.
Sam’s got us. As soon as we finish the song, he pulls out something loud and fun, and we go right into it without overthinking. Bless that beautiful man-cub for breaking the heavy mood.
After Sam leads “The Boys Are Back In Town,” Jace sings “Wonderwall,” because you can’t not sing “Wonderwall.” Drawing from the mug is replaced by bits and pieces of whatever strikes them in the moment.
Once they laugh more than sing “Ways to Say Goodbye,” the audience knows they’re wrapping up, and most begin to head out. Plates of pie have been set out along the back of the counter next to a tray of cake pops for the regular customers and friends who remain.
Jace starts the Beatles’ birthday song, and Sam pops up from his stool to announce it’s time to sing to the birthday boy. Daniel plays right along on the bass, and everyone who knows it sings.
Sadly, that’s only about eight of us. It’s baffling how many people don’t know the Beatles.
They play through the song once before Sam yells, “Tell everyone what you want for your birthday!”
Yikes … do I want to hear this?
Daniel has switched to guitar, and a devilish smile appears on his face. He raises his chin at Sam and starts playing a familiar riff.
Oh no. OH. NO.
He doesn’t sing it, but Sam catches on and begins to pound out “Cherry Pie” on the drums.
I am deceased.
Not mostly dead.
Completely dead.
Jace belts out the entire chorus before they burst into laughter.
What did DC tell them?
I casually make my way to the counter to put whipped cream on slices of pie, desperate not to appear like I’m fulfilling some sort of rock ’n’ roll fantasy.
Would it be wishful thinking to hope no one knows that song?
Well, Ms. Liz sure knows it.
“Honey, that’s about the most honest birthday request I’ve ever heard,” she says with watery eyes from laughing.
“It’s a joke. It doesn’t mean what it sounds like. We were talking about pies earlier,” I say, looking down at the plates.
“I was referring to the pies, honey.” She grins pointedly at me. “What did YOU think I was referring to?”
“Shut up, Ms. Liz.” I fail to hold in a laugh. “And I mean that as respectfully as possible.”
I look up from the plates just as Sam comes barreling across the room at full speed, sliding toward me in his socks with his mouth wide open. I spray it full of whipped cream, even though someone really should monitor his sugar.
“Hey, get Jace to play ‘Sugar’ for me while I get these ready to serve.”
“Yes, ma’am! Let’s do it!” He runs back toward the drums, sliding into the mic. “Lu Lu wants ‘Sugar.’”
“Come back over here, Spice Cake. Danny’s got your sugar right—”
“Def Leppard or Maroon 5?” DC yells at me, clapping a hand over Jace’s mouth with a wicked grin.
“Maroon 5, please!” I do a little shimmy to show what I’m thinking, and Annie glares and rolls her eyes before her grin breaks. This is for her.
They moan about it, but they sure put on a good show for guys who claim to hate this song. Annie and I dance like no one’s watching while we serve the desserts, although we are absolutely being watched.
Jace does a spot-on impersonation of Adam Levine, and it cracks me up every time. No one should ever tell him, because his ego is big enough, but it’s pretty hot.
He’s a lot more fun when he’s not being a snippy little douche waffle.
Annie perches on one of the stools, smiling and holding a couple of cake pops since her other friends have left.
He teases her—dancing around and making faces as he sings.
When they’ve finished, he pulls up a stool next to her, taking one of the cake pops as they start talking quietly.
Sam turns on some current pop-country and joins us at the table where I lined up plates of pie.
Daniel plops down next to me, digging into the strawberries, and Sam sits across from us. I notice Tabitha nearing the exit and wave her over. I might as well keep my word and introduce them. It won’t amount to anything, but I’ll follow through.
“Hey Sammy, I found you a new friend.” I grin at him, hoping he’ll humor me.
“Aww. I love new friends.” He grins, briefly crossing his eyes, indicating he knows I’m up to something. He loves me though. He’ll play along.
“Hey, Tabitha! This is Sam Haynes. Sam, this is Tabitha. She’s a sophomore. Just transferred from Memphis.”
“Hey, y’all were great! Do you do this a lot?” she asks.
“I do, but they’re just amateurs.” He stands, sticks his tongue out at me and smiles broadly at Tabitha. “Let’s get you a plate and leave them to whatever they do. I want to know all about Tabitha.”
Sam picks up his own plate and one for her, then charms her to the other side of the room.
I shoot him the “she thinks we’re together” head tilt toward Daniel as I link my arm through his and rest our clasped hands—the one he’s not eating with—on the table where they can be seen.
Sam nods once. He’s got it. I feel a little guilty, but she’s cute and seems sweet. I’m not killing the guy.
“Are you putting moves on me, Punk?” Daniel narrows his eyes and takes another bite.
“No!” That probably came out too loud. “Nothing compared to what you did.”
He smiles, clearly proud of his performance. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
I lower my voice. “I’m just showing Sam she thinks we’re a thing. You’ll feel bad if she finds out you lied. What if you rejected the girl of your dreams?”
“One, I haven’t told a single lie tonight. Two, she’s not the one for me,” he says as he shovels in more pie, making no apologies for his earlier actions.
“How do you know?” I tease.
“Oh, I just know. She probably wouldn’t sing my name every day or make me pies. I couldn’t live like that.”
I yawn through a laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder for just a second with my arm still wrapped around his before I think better of it and stand up. It’s eleven. I know Liz is tired, and I’m about to drop. DC must be exhausted since he was out working before I was even awake.
I’m clingy when I’m tired. I get way too cuddly, and it’s going to get me in trouble if I’m not careful, so I need to move. I put my half-eaten dessert in front of him, and he catches me around the waist before I walk away.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just sleepy. I have class and work tomorrow, and I know Ms. Liz is ready to get out of here, so I’m going to help her clean. Go ahead and eat. Enjoy the last few minutes of your birthday.”
I start to walk away, but he pulls me back. It’s an innocent side hug, but I involuntarily slide my hand over his shoulder to rest on his neck as he speaks.
“Thank you for the pies. And for singing with me. It made being the oldest suck a lot less.”
That’s quite enough eye contact for today.
“You’re welcome,” I tell him as my sleepy fingers wander into his tousled hair without permission. “You took care of a big expense for me. I owe you pies for the rest of my life.”
Dang it, what am I doing?
I’m like a milk-drunk toddler at naptime, rubbing the same worn spot on the ears of my stuffed bunny when it comes to his hair.
I know better, but I can’t make myself stop.
“We don’t keep score. But I’ll take you up on that.
” I don’t miss his voice lowering and the squeeze to my hip when I graze my fingers over the back of his head before I pull away to start clearing plates.
He finishes the last of mine in one big bite and stands up.
“I’m going to load the equipment, and then I’ll come back to straighten the tables and chairs, okay? ”
“Sounds … gooood.” I yawn again and look around to see who’s left.
Tabitha’s walking out, and it looks like she and Sam are exchanging numbers. They’re stinking adorable and less of an age gap if they hit it off. Keeps her away from my emotional security human too. Maybe Sam can settle for one girl at a time.
It could happen.
He walks her to the door and then jogs back to me, attacking me with another bear hug. I’m good with affection from about seven people in my life total.
One at a time.
Otherwise, I’m a huge fan of my personal bubble and no one being in it.
Sammy hugs are pretty darn magical, but when he’s excited, his hugs are like being hit by a linebacker. Or a moose. A linebacker moose.
If he could hold still, I’d probably fall asleep on him, but of course, he can’t.