Read American Love Songs Online

Authors: Ashlyn Kane

American Love Songs (2 page)

BOOK: American Love Songs
12.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Rule Number Two was no fucking other members of the band. It had been instituted at the bands inception. Just because he and Chris
knew
Jimmy and Kylie had been breaking the rule didnt make it okay. Obviously, it had screwed up their dynamic. Secondly—“Secondly,
you’re
a slut”—he pointed at Kylie—“
you’re
a dick”—Chris—“and
you
have really fucking shitty taste in girls, dude.”

He was pretty sure Kylie was glaring at him. “Fuck you.” But she wasnt as loud or defensive as she had been, so that was something.

“Oh, why not?” Jake said. “Everyone else is getting laid. Why leave me out just because Im gay?” That shut her up. He was usually more sensitive about this, but his head was spinning, and he was in a hurry to get the words out before he threw up again. “Finally, Kylies leaving in September anyway, and neither one of you assholes was invited to go with, so get over it.”

That bought him blessed silence. Then he realized it was an uncomfortable one. “Oh, youre kidding me,” he groaned. Now his head was spinning
and
pounding. “You promised me youd tell them, Kylie.”

A few weeks previously, hed accidentally opened an envelope intended for Kylie. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late—hed already read that she had been accepted to an international relations program on the other side of the country.

“I was going to,” Kylie protested. “I was just waiting for the right time. Jake—”

 

“Whatever it is,” Jake said, “I dont care. You can all fuck off, and well sort it out in the morning.”

 

“Im leaving at the end of the month,” Kylie said.

Of course she fucking was. “Im going to bed,” Jake announced. Apparently he needed a new roommate as well as a new lead guitarist and a boatload of aspirin. “Goodnight.”
PRODIGAL: OFFICIAL BLOG OF THE WAYWARD SONS

Thursday, February 26, 2009 Author: Jake

 

State of the Union Address

I know I promised an update of the prospective release of our first CD, and were working on it, but I have some important news that cant wait. As some of you may already know, our lead guitarist, Kylie Sayers, has left the band to pursue a degree in International Relations. The band would like to wish Kylie all the best of luck in her quest to keep the world from blowing itself the hell up.

In the meantime, well be keeping all of our usual appearances, but sans the lovely Ms. Sayers and the girls. Anyone interested in auditioning for her spot in the band is encouraged to contact us at the address listed on the home page.

J
AKEwas sitting on the front steps of Chris and Jimmys townhouse, cradling a longneck between his second and third fingers and staring off into the distance, trying to block out the sounds of Chris and Jimmy snarking at each other in the basement. It was March, and the windows were closed, but he still wasnt having any luck. Not to mention the fact that his ass was getting cold.

He took another melancholy swig of his beer. It wasnt that he didnt think Jimmy had a right to be pissed off. Of course he was pissed off. Chris had been an asshat. A drunken asshat, yes, but Kylie had made him listen to the whole story the morning after, and as much as Jake found it hard to believe that people could accidentally have drunken sex with their best friends girlfriend, if anyone could, it was Chris.

So Jimmy was pissed off at Chris and Kylie, and then Kylie left several months earlier than planned. It wasnt that Jake felt sorry for her—as much as he liked to tell himself he was over his stupid crush on Chris, he knew he wasnt, and he knew Kylie knew it too. Plus, shed left him in the lurch without a roommate, and that was a lousy thing to do. But Jake couldnt really blame her for leaving. The band wasnt so much functioning right now, anyway. Everyone was too angry.

Right now, though, Chris was mostly seething because theyd had a whole lot of fucking talentless losers audition for Kylies spot, and he was frustrated and grouchy and probably, Jake thought, tired of March. Chriss brother had died in March. Jake was normally the peacemaker of the group, but even he was at his wits end, here. Inside the house, in their practice space, the atmosphere was toxic, which was why he was on the front steps giving himself hemorrhoids instead of inside in the warm. He just needed to get outside.

He was just slugging back the last of his beer
3
when a shadow fell across the step he was perched on, and he looked up. There was a guy standing there with a guitar case, backlit by the sun. Jake couldnt really see him clearly, but his place on the lowest step made the guy seem ridiculously tall, even though Jake was pretty sure he was taller. He usually was.

“Um, excuse me,” the guy said, in a voice that was soft and kind of rough at the same time, like he had gone on an all-night bender and had to speak quietly to avoid aggravating his own headache.
4

Squinting up at him, Jake stood, brushing the moisture from his beer bottle off on his jeans. He was right—he was taller by three inches or so. He held out his hand for the guy to shake. “You here for the audition?” he asked, nodding at the guitar case.

The guy shook his hand, his grip firm and dry, the fingers tough. Jake guessed he must be left-handed, the way the tips of his fingers were callused. “Sure,” he said. Now that he wasnt squinting into the sun, Jake could see that the guy was kind of average-looking, maybe a little on the geeky side, with thick plastic frames dominating his face. He wasnt wearing a coat, which was a little unusual at that time of year, especially since he didnt seem like the kind of guy who thought he was too macho for comfort. Whatever he sounded like, he didnt
look
anything like a rock star, with his too-pale skin and almost military haircut, but that didnt mean he couldnt rock. “Im Parker.”

3
And making a face—it was pretty shit beer.
4
In other words, a rock-star voice.

“Jake Brenner. I play bass. You got a last name, Parker?” Jake asked, not unfriendly, just curious. He sat back down on the steps and motioned for the guy to join him. No sense bothering Chris and Jimmy if the guy was no good, and if he
was
any good, he could bring him straight in and end their stupid argument. He had a good feeling.

“McAvoy,” he said, sitting one step up past Jake in order to make room for the guitar. It was an acoustic, which was a little odd for an audition for a rock band, but Jake didnt say anything just then because it was a gorgeous instrument, definitely a few years old at least, but well-cared for and obviously well-loved.

“Nice piece,” Jake told him sincerely, not surprised when the sound that came out as Parker checked the tuning was full and warm despite the chill in the air. “Whered you get it?”

“It was my brothers,” Parker said. He didnt elaborate, but Jake got the idea that there was a story there. “You got any requests?”

While he was interviewing, he might as well test the guys personality. “Play me your favorite song,” he said lightly, turning on the step so he could watch him work.

“To play or to listen to?”

“You might as well play them both,” Jake told him. He wanted to get an accurate picture of the guys skills. “Orders up to you. Do you need a tuner?”

He knew by the time the question was out of his mouth that Parker didnt. “Nah, I got it. Alright, here goes.” He tested a couple of chords to double-check the tuning, and then his fingers started flying confidently over the frets, his left hand keeping up on the strings as he knocked out “Dont Fear the Reaper” in perfect time and with plenty of energy. Oddly, Jake thought, he didnt sing; everyone hed ever met who played the guitar sang, even if sometimes not very well. Still, Jake knew the song well enough to know Parker didnt miss a beat, and he played the solo with so much verve that Jake would never have thought about the fact that he wasnt using an electric if it hadnt occurred to him earlier.

“Good taste,” he said when Parker finished.

 

Parker flicked a look up at him from under the green-and-brown plastic rims of his glasses and smiled a little, shyly. “Thanks.” Jake waved a hand at him. “Play on.”

The second song, he didnt recognize. Or, he did—it triggered some kind of bell somewhere in the back of his head—but if there were any lyrics, he didnt know them. The melody was familiar enough that he could anticipate the next few notes, but it was complicated, not what he expected from an audition for a lead guitarist spot. It was more classical, if anything. Still, it was beautiful, and Parkers skill was not in any question as his fingers plucked out quick, complicated harmonies on six strings that sounded more like thirty-six.

He finished, and Jake nodded decisively. “Okay,” he said, picking up his beer bottle in one hand and the guitar case in the other. “Come on inside. You need to meet Chris and Jimmy.”

“This was just the pre-test, huh?” Parker asked, slinging his guitar onto his back like a troubadour.

“Something like that,” Jake agreed, hooking his third finger around the front door and yanking it open. It never closed properly unless someone remembered to lock it. “Down the stairs. Dont mind the noise. Theyll shut up once they hear you play.”

There was no point being embarrassed over Chris and Jimmys bad behavior. For one thing, Jake was already pretty sure Parker was going to be sticking around, so he might as well get used to this sooner rather than later. The two of them were thick as thieves most of the time, but every once in a while things between them came to a head of some kind. They always got over it. Jake hardly even noticed when they started going at it anymore.

“Guys!” he practically shouted when he got to the bottom of the stairs. Parker stopped awkwardly in front of him, holding his guitar across his chest again. Jimmy stood behind the drum kit, holding a set of broken sticks, which was not immediately a cause for alarm. Chriss face was set, and his chest was heaving like hed been belting REO Speedwagon songs or something
5
. His cheeks were pink, and there was a small dent in the plaster of the wall beside him. He was holding his hand funny. Jake thought darkly that it damn well better not be broken, because they had two gigs this weekend. “Oh, great first impression, assholes.”

Jimmy calmed as soon as he noticed the newcomer, though he was not exactly welcoming. “Another one?” he said. “I thought we were done for the day.”

“You do not want to pass on this,” Jake told him, though he was looking at Chris.

It took a minute, but eventually Chris just grimaced. “Fuck. Ow.” He shook out his hand and seemed to shake off his foul mood at the same time. Chris might have a temper at times, but he usually cooled off just as quickly. “Hi. Im Chris.”

“Hes kind of a douche,” Jake explained, and the corner of Parkers mouth twitched in recognition.

 

“Fucker,” Chris said without denying anything. There was no heat in his voice. “Well, alright, kid, lets hear it.”

Parker shot Jake a quick look, and Jake nodded at him to reinforce the command. He didnt bother sitting down this time, just curled his fingers around the neck of the guitar and started right in with “All Along the Watchtower.” He played the intro and chords when there was no lead part, and he wasnt even get halfway through the second solo before Chris exchanged a look with Jimmy, then held up his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Alright, alright,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Youve got taste
and
talent, which is more than I can say for anyone else whos shown up today. The gigs yours if you want it.”

Parker looked at him blankly, then smiled. “Thats great. Thanks.”

“Jake, get this man a demo CD and some tablature—you do read tabs, dont you?—and a copy of this weeks set lists. Gigs are Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, nine until one. My boy Jake will fill you in on the details—Jimmy and I gotta run, we have work to do.”

5
Jake was never going to let him live down the time hed caught him singing “I Cant Fight This Feeling Anymore” in the shower.

Jake realized with a start that it was pushing five oclock, and Chris and Jimmy started their shift at the bar at five thirty. He shrugged. “Sure. You doing anything right now? Ill have to burn you a new CD; Chris gave away my stockpile.”

Parker shrugged; he looked a little shell-shocked. Jake didnt really blame him. Though he wasnt exactly surprised at how quickly this patched up Chris and Jimmys little love tiff—hed seen similar fights resolved more easily—their sometimes mercurial relationship tended to throw people. “I got no plans.”

Jake noticed the hint of an accent for the first time, but he didnt comment on it, just waved goodbye to the guys and ushered their new lead guitarist up the stairs. He was kind of pumped. Parker was leagues better than Kylie ever was; even if the male part of their miniscule fan base would miss her boobs, they had definitely traded up. They were going to be
awesome
.

“So where are you from?” he asked once they were back out in the cold, leading the way back to his apartment.

“That obvious Im not a local, huh?” Parker said a little sheepishly, and the accent was a little thicker this time. “South Dakota. If I start pulling out the „golly gees, feel free to smack me one.”

Jake could totally see Parker saying “golly gee,” and it was equal parts hilarious and adorable
6
. Yeah, the girls were gonna eat him alive—he had that aw-shucks personality people seemed to find irresistible. He grinned. “I dont see that being much of a problem. So what brings you out here?”

The tense shrug Parker gave him let him know he wasnt entirely comfortable with the question. “Couldnt go home, had to go somewhere.” He shrugged again. “I made my way down from New York, just kind of ended up here.”

“How long you been in town for?”

 

Parker looked at his watch. “Bout eighteen hours,” he said sheepishly.

 

6
Unfortunately, I have still never heard Parker say this.—JB

Jake was so surprised he almost stopped walking, but he figured it would be more awkward to make a big deal out of it, so he smiled instead. “Huh.” He couldnt imagine what itd be like to wander the country until he found a reason to stay somewhere, but he didnt think it sounded like much fun. Not by himself, anyway. “You had no idea we were doing auditions today, did you?”

BOOK: American Love Songs
12.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Muse by Raine Miller
La forma del agua by Andrea Camilleri
Blood of My Brother by James Lepore
Fire and Steam by Christian Wolmar
Miss Congeniality by Marie Garner
Sea Lovers by Valerie Martin
The Last Protector by Daniel C. Starr
Under the Bridges by Anne Forsyth
Take Me Back by Kelli Maine