A dark brow lifts. “She couldn’t have given you some pants, too?”
“She’s…a lot smaller than I am.”
He seems to buy this because he stands. “If water balloon fights were the worst of it, I should probably count my blessings.” He smacks a kiss on my cheek. “It’s almost three. I’m going to sleep.”
I’m about to follow him, but my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Phoenix: It’s tomorrow.
Grinning, I type out a reply.
Lennon: Thanks for not ignoring me this time, pal.
I watch dots appear and disappear across my screen as I walk up the stairs and into my bedroom.
Phoenix: Thanks for the blow job, buddy.
Lennon: What can I say? I’m a great friend.
Phoenix: That you are. I’m gonna have to tell Storm to step up his game before you take his spot.
Crawling into bed, I type a reply text.
Lennon: Do you want Storm to suck your dick, too? No judgment here if you do. I can give him some tips.
Phoenix: Hard pass. Storm’s not my type.
A flicker of pain shoots through my chest.
Lennon: I’m not either.
Phoenix: That’s true. You’re nothing like the other girls I hang out with.
The flicker of pain turns into a full-blown ache, but then a follow-up text comes through.
Phoenix: You’re better.
I fall asleep with the biggest smile on my face.
CHAPTER 15
LENNON
A majority of the last forty-eight hours have been spent holed up in Storm’s garage, listening to them rehearse.
Unfortunately, there’s a bit of a rift going on because Phoenix and Storm keep arguing about what song they should open with.
Phoenix wants to start off with “Enter Sandman” by Metallica, and Storm wants to open with “My Generation” by The Who because it’s big on drums.
Tension is mounting by the minute and I’m a little scared it might come to blows soon.
Even Grams gave up and went back inside after listening to their bickering. But not before the poor woman ripped out her hearing aids.
Storm launches his drumsticks across the room with a force that makes me happy I ducked in time. “We only get three songs, asshole. All I’m asking is for one of them to be heavy on drums.”
Nostrils flaring, Phoenix grips the mic so hard his knuckles turn white. “Are you deaf, motherfucker? ‘Enter Sandman’ has good drums.”
He looks at me. “Help me talk some sense into this idiot, Lennon.”
Oh, boy. “The song does have good drums—”
Storm’s bitter snort cuts me off. “Of course your little girlfriend is going to take your side.”
Whoa. That’s not fair. He didn’t even give me a chance to finish my sentence.
“She’s not my girlfriend, dipshit,” Phoenix grits through his teeth.
“What the fuck ever—”
Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I let out a loud whistle because this is getting out of hand.
They play at Voodoo tomorrow night, so this is not the time to fall apart. If they don’t get their shit together and settle on an opening song soon, they’re screwed.
“Enough,” I scream over the loud rumble of thunder.
There’s a bad storm going on outside, but it pales in comparison to the one happening in here.
“If you two would just stop arguing and put your stubbornness aside, you could figure this out and continue rehearsing.”
Phoenix looks at Storm. “Lennon’s a huge rock fan, and she thinks we should start with the Metallica song—”
“No,” I cut in. “I don’t.”
Phoenix whips around to face me again. “I thought you just agreed?”
“I agreed it has good drums, but not that you should start with it.”
Storm smiles smugly. “The Who it is then.”
“I don’t think that’s the right choice either.”
I personally love the song, but it doesn’t scream stop what you’re doing and listen. And while Phoenix can sing the pants off of anything, that one doesn’t really show off his insane vocal range.
“There’s a happy medium,” I say. “You just have to figure it out and be open to suggestions.”
“Fine,” Storm huffs. “What do you suggest then, Groupie?”
“Don’t call her Groupie, fucker,” Phoenix mutters low and deadly under his breath.
Yeah. I’ll come back to that later.
“Do you like the Metallica song?”
“Obviously,” Phoenix says, but I hold up a hand.
“I was talking to Storm.”
Storm looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “Of course. It’s fucking Metallica.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “In that case, would you be open to moving Sandman to number two and scraping ‘Welcome to the Machine’ by Pink Floyd since it doesn’t have any drums?”
“Whoa,” Phoenix chimes in. “That’s a great song.”
“I know,” I grit through my teeth. “But this is about compromise.”
And I’m willing to bet Storm’s plight is less about the opening song choice and more about the second song not having any drums.
Phoenix didn’t mean to, but he inadvertently excluded his best friend and band member from an entire freaking song by doing that. No wonder his passive-aggressive response to that was “My Generation.”
“I’m fine with it,” Storm says at last. “But then we don’t have an opening or closing song.”
He’s right. I scan my brain, recalling everything I’ve heard them play before.
I snap my fingers when it comes to me. “What about closing out with ‘Man in the Box’? You guys murder that one, and the drums are definitely a big part of the song.”
Phoenix and Storm exchange a glance that quickly turns into a mutual nod.
“That works for me,” Storm agrees.
“Me too.” Phoenix rubs his chin, studying me intently. “Any suggestions for what we should open with?”
Pacing, I try to think of a song that will showcase both Phoenix’s incredible voice and Storm’s awesome drum skills at the same time, as well as individually.
I wince when it hits me because it’s a little trite, but they could totally make it work.
“‘Voodoo’,” I exclaim.
“Yes, Lennon,” Phoenix says condescendingly. “That’s where we’re playing—”
“I meant the song by Godsmack.”
They exchange a perturbed glance.
“Yeah, no,” Phoenix grunts. “That’s hokey as fuck.”
“It will only come off hokey if you’re not good enough to make whoever thinks that eat crow…but you guys are.”
Granted, the original band isn’t exactly known for their incredible vocals, but that song is amazing.
“Come on,” I continue. “Not only does it start off a cappella, you have a lower register that will kick the fucking shit out of it.”