Bullet (5 page)

Ethan shouted, loud enough so I could hear, “Someday soon I’ll be on a stage like that.”

“That would be awesome.  I fantasize about stuff like that too.”

“
Fantasize?
”  His brows furrowed.  “I have a rock band.  We just need to get our shit together.”

“
You’re in a band?
”  Holy crap.  I’d liked Ethan before, but that just made him an even more desirable commodity as far as I was concerned.

“Yeah.  My band’s called Bullet.”  His eyes scoured mine.  “I never told you?”

I shook my head.  “What do you play?”

“Guitar…but I do
some of the vocals too.”

Don’t ask me where my sudden forwardness came from.  “Wow…guitarists and vocalists are my favorites.  You’re setting yourself up to be a girl magnet.”  As soon as I’d said it, I felt the warmth an
d redness from blushing crawl up my neck to my cheeks.  Good thing it was dark in there.

He didn’t seem embarrassed at all…or even shocked.  Instead, he said, “You have class, Ms. Quinn.”

“As do you, Mr. Richards.”  I giggled.

But then our smiles faded
, and I would almost swear the volume of the music decreased too.  He ran his hand over the side and then the back of my hair, resting his palm on the nape of my neck.

Oh…this was it, wasn’t it?  Feeling his hand brush over my hair and the top of my ear had sent electric chills down my spine.  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his, and I figured my gaze was dreamy, as though I were looking through rose-colored glasses, my head tilted, my lips slightly parted in an innocent yet desirous fashion.  And as his head tilted toward mine, I felt my heartbeat increase, and I awaited the touch of his lips on mine.

It never happened, though, because the frontman of the band started talking, announcing their first song.  Right after, one of the guitars screeched, and they began to play—a hard, driving, heavy yet melodic song.  Ethan kept his eyes on me still, though, and smiled.  He moved his hand over so that his arm was now draped over my shoulder, and then he turned to watch the band.

His arm didn’t stay there long, though, because we had some serious
headbanging to do.

And that was okay, because we’d had a great moment, and I knew there would be more of them.  The music, of course, would always take precedence.

* * *

When it was time to leave, we were exhausted and shouting at each other because we couldn’t hear a thing.  The music had been so loud.  It had been an awesome show, and I was so glad I’d gone with Ethan.  “Thanks for inviting me,” I said on the way back to his truck.

“Yeah.  No problem.”  He unlocked the truck and opened the passenger door for me.  “You hungry?”

“Starving.”  He closed the door and walked to the other side.  I felt some relief that he wasn’t—so far, anyway—talking about the second band, because—even though I was a little naïve and unworldly—I was pretty sure the guitarist for the second band was making eyes at me.  He was pretty damned good looking, too, but my heart was set on Ethan.  It had started before
they even got onstage.  He’d stood beside me for the last three songs Name of My Killer performed, getting a little too close, but that was okay because we were in a moshing area and that kind of thing is expected, especially with more people.  He smiled at me more than once.  Problem was, aside from not being Ethan, he had to be in his mid- to late twenties, and that was a little out of my comfort zone.  At first, though, I just thought he was being friendly.  But as soon as his band had set up onstage, he made sure to make eye contact with me before the house lights went down again.  Yeah, the guy was hot.  His arms were covered in tattoos, and he was pretty cut.  He was a bit too extreme for me, but it worked on him.  He had snake bite piercings that ordinarily I didn’t go for, but not only did it work for him, it made him even cuter.  And his dark brown hair was longish, in his eyes until he’d flick his head to the side.

I didn’t even know the guy’s name.  I only knew he was the guitarist of a kickass awesome local band named Last Five Seconds, and for some reason, the guy had taken a shine to me.

But…that didn’t matter.  I was with Ethan, and he was the guy I wanted.  “McDonald’s okay with you?”

Had to pay attention.  “Yep.  Sure.  That’s great.”

The drive to the fast food restaurant only took a few minutes, and even though Ethan was playing the music loudly in his truck, my ears felt like they were getting a rest.  When we got there, I was surprised at how empty the place was, although there were a couple of cars in the drive-through.  When we got up to the counter, Ethan said, “I got yours.”

I shook my head.  “You don’t have to.  You already paid for my ticket.”

He scowled.  “I
want
to.”

I sucked in a little breath.  “Okay.”  Didn’t want to argue with that and besides…if it helped him feel more comfortable getting closer to me, then I definitely didn’t want to stop him.
  So we ordered, and they made our food quickly.  We found a booth next to a window and sat down.  I took my jacket off and set it on the seat next to me.  As Ethan unwrapped his burger, I asked, “The name Bullet’s awesome for a band, but are you sure it’s not already taken?”

He looked up at me, sandwich not quite to his lips, and said, “What do you mean?”

“Well…I mean…look.  There are thousands of bands out there, lots of ‘em unsigned, right?  And I was just thinking—you’ve got Bullet for My Valentine, right, and they’re really famous.  Why didn’t
they
just use the name
Bullet
?  Was it because it was already being used by somebody else?”

Ethan’s brows furrowed, and he almost looked angry, but then he said, “That would totally fucking suck if someone already took that name.  We
tried all kinds of names and Bullet just fit, you know?  And it encompasses the attitude we have—we’re lethal, deadly, but only in the right hands.  We’re the ammo for your anger, your pain.”  He took a sip of his Coke.  “Goddammit.  That’s gonna piss me off if it
is
already taken.”

“Sorry…”

“No, Val, don’t be.  That’s something I probably should have already thought about.”

I forced a smile, but I know it was weak.  “We can Google
it.”

“Yeah, I’m not ready to find out yet.”  I smiled and squeezed ketchup out of a packet onto the paper covering the tray.  He said, “So how’d you like the bands?”

No way was I going to talk about the hot guitarist of the second band making me feel all warm and gooey.  I’d focus on the music.  “They were awesome.  Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Did you like ‘
em?”

“Yeah.  The first one was raw and angry, and the second guys were too, but they felt more polished.”

“That’s kind of what I thought, too.  I’ve seen ‘em before.  They’re good.”  We ate in silence for a few moments until Ethan said, “So…you know one of my secrets now.”  I looked at him with a confused look on my face, I’m sure.  He grinned.  “You know about my band.  But, you know, we don’t really know a whole lot about each other.  I mean…where are you from?  What’s your major?”

I nodded.  “I’m from Winchester.”

“Winchester…that’s over by Colorado Springs, isn’t it?”

I nodded.  “Yep.  Where are
you
from?”

“
A podunk shit town about an hour from here.  Nothing even worth talking about.”  He crumpled up the wrapper from his first burger and began unwrapping a second.  “So…major?”

Hmmm…okay, so he didn’t want to talk about his home.  I wondered why but didn’t want to force the issue.  “I’m undecided.”

“Me, too.”

“It’s not that there isn’t anything I’m interested in.  In fact, it’s the opposite.  I’m interested in a
lot
of things.  Too many, I guess.  So…I can’t really decide what I want to do.”

“
They say it’s okay to be undecided your first year.  You kind of get a feel for what you want to study and then you decide.”

We spent the rest of time at McDonald’s comparing our first semester experiences with each other.  We talked about the classes we didn’t have in common, as well as professors and different students we’d met in classes.  We also talked about other interests outside of music, and I mentioned that I liked to write poetry.  So he made me promise to share my poetry with him sometime.  I told him I’d love to as long as he also promised to shar
e his music with me in the near future.  He winked and said he would soon.

We arrived back at the college a little while later
, and he walked me up to my dorm room.  It was after eleven, but it was Friday night, and since I wasn’t worried about losing any sleep, I invited him in.  We’d talked about Googling to see if his band’s name was already taken.  I liked the name
Bullet
, especially since I felt like he’d penetrated my heart already, much like a bullet would have, but I feared that name would be too common to not have been taken already.

When we walked in the door to my room, I was surprised to see Charlotte.  I had expected her to be on a date or spending the night somewhere else.  For her to be in our dorm room so early on a Friday night was odd. 
Ethan sat backwards in the chair at my desk, and I sat on the edge of my bed across from him.  I said, “Ethan, this is my roommate, Charlotte Edwards.  Charlotte, my friend, Ethan Richards.”

“You guys went to a concert tonight, right?”

I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm.  “Yes.  And it was awesome!”

“So
all
you guys dress that way for your way-out concerts.  What’s with all the black?  Not that I don’t like black; I love it…”  She eyed Ethan from head to toe, even though the back of the chair covered his torso.  “Especially on men.  But you two look like you went to a funeral, not a concert.  Actually, Valerie, you look like a little girl going to a funeral.”

What was she trying to do, aside from upset me?  Well, she wasn’t going to get the satisfaction.  I was going to keep my cool if it killed me.
  “Charlotte, you are entitled to your opinion, but I happen to think both Ethan and I are appropriately dressed for the concert we attended.  We didn’t look out of place.  And, here on campus, I always dress appropriately for classes.  I’m sorry you can’t quite understand metal culture.”

Ethan was silent.  Maybe he sensed a heated battle.  I glanced over at him, and he just grinned in that cocky way of his.  Maybe he
wanted
to see a catfight.

Charlotte raised her pencil-thin eyebrows.  “Oh, I
understand
it.  I just don’t get the appeal.”

I shrugged, trying to maintain the peace.  “That’s cool.  It’s not for everybody.”
   She rolled her eyes.  “And I wouldn’t dress like this every day.  I wouldn’t totally metal out for class.”

“Thank goodness.”

I was tired of her bitchiness, and I was pretty irritated that she felt the need to do it in front of my friend and love interest.  She was embarrassing.  I was going to call her on her rudeness.  “What’s that supposed to mean anyway?”

She sneered at me.  “You look
awful
.”

Ethan didn’t let me get in the next word.  He said, “She looks
fuckin’ awesome.”

That didn’t stop
Charlotte.  “Only because she’s the exact replica of you.”  Ethan raised his eyebrows, as though questioning her sanity.  She continued, “Was this planned?”

I was tired of being insulted by the little…
bitch
.  Yes, that’s what she was, and—even though at that point in my life I didn’t use foul language much (believe me when I tell you that’s changed)—I was angry.  I was going to say something—
anything
—as rude and as out of character as possible, hoping to get her attention and make her think about how mean she was.  “At least I’m not so desperate for attention that I walk around campus in Victoria’s Secret lingerie when it’s snowing outside.”

Her disinterested look turned into a glare
, and she jumped off her bed.  “You little bitch!” she spat.  “You’ve got nerve.  That’s a low blow.”

“Oh, and your cracks about being a little girl and dressing poorly weren’t?”

I guess I’d struck a nerve, although I couldn’t see how.  I wasn’t being any ruder than she was.  But she lunged at me with her sharp red fingernails anyway.  I hadn’t noticed Ethan beside me until he caught her wrists in time.  He just looked at her for what seemed like forever, as though to burn something into her brain.  He said, “You touch her…or any of her stuff, you’ll have to answer to me.”  He still didn’t look at me when he said, “Come on, Val.  Let’s go.”

He let go of Charlotte’s wrists
, and she started rubbing her left one.  As I started following Ethan to the door, she said, “Don’t bother.  I won’t stay in this room with this tramp one more minute.”

I stopped and took a deep breath.  “Tramp?”  I let out a breath and decided just to shut up.  I turned around to see what she was doing.  She’d slid a small suitcase
out from under her bed and opened it on top of her blanket.  She really
was
packing.  That was weird.  I hadn’t done anything to make her want to leave, had I?