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Authors: Jade C. Jamison

Fully Automatic (Bullet) (7 page)

BOOK: Fully Automatic (Bullet)
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Chapter Eight

 

BRAD MIGHT HAVE been able to keep one set of thoughts at bay, but another—that of his growing attraction to Valerie—he wasn’t able to deny.  Ethan began playing the solo at the end of “Moon Baby,” but he went off on his own musical tangent.  Typical Ethan, but the guy usually managed to pull it off in a spectacular way.

Val slid the mike back into the stand and moved beside the chair Brad was sitting in to watch Ethan’s mad solo.  Brad couldn’t resist.  He wanted to find a way to acknowledge the insane attraction he was feeling, so when she glanced over at him, his smile was wide and he patted his knee, offering her his leg as a seat.  God…if she took him up on it, he’d die.  But she didn’t.  The look was all over her face—no way would she do something like that in front of Ethan.

Brad wasn’t about to become a supreme asshole, though, so he stood up.  “Seriously, go ahead and have a seat.”  He waved his hand toward the chair.

But she refused.  “No, really, I’m good.”  Well, no way in hell was he gonna sit down again, so he stood next to her watching Ethan journey through a long but bad ass guitar solo.  It was hard just standing next to her.  He wanted to talk to her, ask her about what she liked and disliked, what her fears were, her hopes and dreams.  He wanted to ask her the qualities of her ideal man, because he wanted to give it a shot.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Ethan finally finished, and it seemed an insane amount of time later.  But everyone congratulated him just the same.  He really was an incredible guitarist
, and he always put off a cocky vibe.  If Brad didn’t know his friend as well as he did, he would have hated the guy, but deep down Brad knew Ethan was insecure and unsure.  The arrogant act was just that—an act.  And Ethan would often showboat as a way to gain a little bit of praise, because he was typically the guy who got none.

When they were done, they shut off the space heaters and went to the kitchen.  Val managed to sit between Zane and Ethan, and Brad understood why.  They were already her friends, and she was comfortable with them.  It was okay.  Brad knew he’d been coming on too strong, and it was time to back off.  He got them all sodas out of the fridg
e and talked a little band talk but spent more time answering Val’s questions.  She wanted to know about their plans, yeah, but even more, she asked questions about their favorite instruments, who’d influenced them musically, things like that.

She asked
, “What inspires the words you write?”

Ethan answered first.  “Brad and I write the lyrics, and so I know he’s different.  I usually pick a theme and just run w
ith it.  I think of my words as kinda in the Kurt Cobain vein, if that makes any sense.  You listen and listen, and then it starts to make sense in a universal kind of way.  I think Brad’s are a lot more personal.”

Val looked over at him.  He wondered why she was so curious about the
lyrics, but he didn’t mind answering.  “Yeah, they are.  They usually center around something that is happening or has happened to me—they’re usually emotional.”

“Really?”  Was she teasing him?

He smiled.  God, he would have loved to be having this conversation alone with her, and then he wanted to kick himself.  He was irrationally attracted to her.  It made no sense whatsoever.  Still…he was drawn to her.  She was a flame and he had grown wings, a moth attracted to her, no matter the potential danger.  “Really.”

“I don’t know if I’d admit that out loud.”

“Why?”

Ethan started laughing.  “‘Cause you’re a pussy, man
…whining about some girl who broke your heart.”

Brad took it in stride.  He knew Ethan was teasing him, and it wasn’t his friend’s fault that he had some ridiculous attraction to the girl at the table
he didn’t want to look stupid in front of.  “Fuck you.”

“Not very metal, dude.”

“Yeah.  Fuck you anyway.”  They all started laughing, Val included.  Brad thought she was the perfect addition to their group.  They only stayed a few minutes longer, because Ethan hadn’t seen his mom yet and was antsy, worried about her.  Zane and Nick left when they did, leaving Brad by himself.

What really pissed him off was that he couldn’t get to sleep that night.  He finally got out of bed and went downstairs, turning on the computer in his mom’s office.  He went to Ethan’s Facebook page, because he was pretty sure Val would have to be listed as one of his friends.  She was.  He couldn’t believe he was acting like such a stalker, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.  He wanted to know everything about her that he could.
  It wasn’t simply because she reminded him of Leah.  No, she reminded him of more than Leah.  Sure, she was sweet and innocent and fresh faced like Leah, but the similarities ended there.  Val seemed to have a bigger sense of humor.  Add to that, she loved metal music.  Leah hadn’t liked it much at all.  And Val wasn’t some poseur who’d decided to pretend on a whim to like it to gain Ethan’s affections.  They’d talked enough for him to know.  Well, that and she knew all the covers they did, and she sang all of “Moon Baby” from memory.

He almost got hard thinking about it again.

But he looked at her profile, and he figured he was able to view it because she was a friend of a friend.  He considered clicking the
Add Friend
button and then figured he’d definitely look like a goddamn stalker.  No, he hadn’t even known her twelve hours yet.  That shit could wait.  But he wanted to know more about her.  Sure enough, she had dozens of hardcore band pages that she followed.  She had a brother named Danny.  Her birthday was in August, and she was from a tiny Colorado town near the front range, a place called Winchester.  Brad had never been there before. Then again, he hadn’t been to too many places in Colorado since his parents had split up.

He looked at a few of her pictures and then felt guilty and ashamed, like he was invading her privacy.  He shook his head and shut the computer down, and then snuck a beer out of the fridge.  He went upstairs and nursed the beer, thinking about Valerie until early morning.

* * *

Every
one arrived back at his house by two-thirty Saturday afternoon.  Brad had managed to sleep till noon and felt better than he’d expected after not sleeping through most of the night.  He was feeling less guilty about scoping out Val’s profile, and he wasn’t going to say a word about it.  No one would ever know.

He’d been hoping he’d feel a little less drawn to her, but no such luck.  That was okay, though, because they were just going to be practicing and playing.  He’d be able to tend to music instead of her so much…or so he hoped.

They played for a couple of hours, taking breaks here and there, reworking things.  More than once, Ethan asked Val, “You’re not bored, are you?”

She’d shake her head and say, “No, not even.  This is fascinating.”

Brad couldn’t tell if she was humoring Ethan or if, again, it was because she liked being with him and didn’t care what he was doing.  Brad didn’t mind, because the longer he was around Val, the more he liked her.

What astonished Brad was how completely oblivious Ethan was to Val’s obvious infatuation for the guy.  He’d thought
about it last night, but even so he felt like he’d have to talk to his friend alone sometime after the weekend, just to get Ethan’s blessing before pursuing Valerie.

Then they played for a long stretch—one song that needed a lot of work.  They hadn’t practiced it much and they wanted it road worthy by the next month.  Yeah, they could and did practice alone, but it wasn’t the same as when they worked together.  They decided then to take another break, and that’s when Brad remembered the stash of goodies he’d asked
Misti to buy for him earlier in the week.  He wiped some sweat off his brow and walked across the garage.  “Hey, guys, I can’t believe I didn’t show you this shit already.”  He moved a couple of boxes, opening one and producing a large bottle of rum.  He saw Nick’s eyes grow wide in anticipation, but Ethan wasn’t impressed.  That was okay.  He knew his friend would still party, even if he didn’t appreciate Brad’s abilities.  “And I’ve got two twelve-packs of Coke chillin’ in the fridge.”  He walked back over to the group, lowering his voice.  “Mom’s working tonight…leaves around six-thirty, so we can get fuckin’ wasted.”

Ethan
slid his guitar so it hung on his back, and Brad could almost see the guy’s hackles rise.  “Wait a minute.  Do you even drink, Val?”

She acted demure. 
“Umm…”  She smiled sweetly.  “I can be your designated driver.”

“Perfect.”

Brad put the bottle back in its hiding place, rejoining the group.  Ethan said, “Guys, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”  He took a breath, and Brad was curious.  “There’s a reason why Val’s our designated driver.  She’s fucking brilliant.  And I hate to even admit it, but she figured out something none of us other numbnuts did.  The name
Bullet
?  Fucking cool, right?”

“Hell, yeah.”
  Bullet was the name Brad wanted, the one he had pressed the guys to adopt.

“Yeah…and it’s taken.”

Brad was not amused.  “So?  I’ve never heard of ‘em, so what?”

“Do you
really
want somebody’s sloppy seconds?”

Brad laughed
.  “Fuck…not when you put it that way.”

“Exactly.  So…close your eyes and tell me…what do you think of
Fully Automatic
?”

Brad
got quiet and let the words tumble around his head.  Suddenly, the perfect band name was gone, gone in a flash.  He saw Nick nod his head out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t sold yet. He had to let it roll around for a few moments. 
Bullet
had been perfect—bad ass, hardcore, dangerous, and in your face. 
Fully Automatic
seemed to try to catch that vibe.  It hadn’t grown on him yet, but he could see the possibilities.  “Yeah…that’ll work.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I just need some time to try it on…know what I mean?”

“Yeah,
that’s cool, man.”

Brad slapped him on the back.  “Damn straight.”

“So let’s work out this next song.”  They started working on the next one on their list, going through the process that they had before.  He and Ethan had both brought songs to the band, but the last couple they’d written entirely together—the process was organic and fluid, and Brad started wondering if he’d ever want to do it any other way again.  The music was damn near perfect, and so it was time to start working on the lyrics.  Zane and Nick were perfecting the percussion for the song, letting Ethan and Brad write the words.  The two sat on lawn chairs and Val sat next to them, not saying a word.

“I can’t help myself, baby, / The way you look at me. / You got me dead to rights, so damn helpless. / Why can’t you just let me be?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Ethan said, as Brad jotted the words down on a piece of paper.

“So I fall on my knees,” Ethan offered.

“Down on my knees…how’s that?”

Ethan said, “Yeah, yeah…that’s good, and it rhymes with
me
too.”  Brad nodded, making more notes on the page.  “Oh…this is better:  ‘I’m begging you please’.”

“Yeah.”

Val cleared her throat and sat up straight.  “Um…guys…can I give you a suggestion?”

Ethan said, “Uh…sure.”
  He didn’t seem so sure to Brad, though.

Val
took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself, but her voice was honey.  “Your music is awesome.  It’s so original.  Some of the words here, though…they’re kind of…”

Fuck.  Brad knew exactly what she was thinking.  He might as well admit what he already knew. 
“Generic.”  He frowned while Val nodded her head.  “Yeah, you’re right.”  He looked at Ethan and then Val.  “Any ideas?”

She twisted her mouth up, and he thought she was going to shrug and leave it at that, but then he saw her eyes light up
.  “Your words are a knife that twist with every breath.”

Ethan smiled.  “That’s—”

Brad liked it.  It was fresh, different.  “Wow.  Not perfect, but…I like the metaphor.”  He picked up the pencil again.   “Do you care if I use it…even if we change it a bit?”

She grinned at him
, and he loved that it was a smile just for him.  “No…please.”  Ethan didn’t really like it, but Brad knew he could get his friend to see the light.  All of a sudden, it was like Val’s suggestion had opened the flood gates.  That one little phrase offered them untold possibilities, and Brad wanted to explore them.  They ran with it, reworking the lyrics from scratch and creating a song filled with emotion, meaning, and layers.  Brad was convinced it was the most powerful song—lyrically—that his band had ever written.  It was a great way to celebrate the band’s rebirth as Fully Automatic.  Even Ethan was satisfied by the time they were done.

Brad’s mom
appeared in the garage wearing scrubs.  She kissed Brad on the cheek and noticed Val.  “I thought it was just the boys tonight.”

“Oh, mom, this is Ethan and Zane’s friend from college—Valerie Quinn.”

BOOK: Fully Automatic (Bullet)
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