“Can we meet up? This can’t really wait and I don’t want to tell you this over the phone.”
I suddenly feel sick, wondering what she could possibly need to talk to me about. My mind drifts to Ava, that she’d probably be annoyed with me for meeting up with Jackie, but I also know she trusts me. So I tell Jackie, “I’ll be over in an hour.”
Track Thirty-Two: F**k Me Pumps
by Amy Winehouse
AVA
“This place makes me think of Dillon,” River says as we stand in the middle of The Vinyl Kitty. “Remember the time he came with us and wanted the Handsome Beasts album with that nun on it?”
We both laugh and I nudge him playfully. “I forgot about that!” Smiling at him, I add, “I’ve been planning an autism awareness benefit in his honor, actually.”
“Really? Tell me about it.” River says, his eyes shining with genuine interest.
“I’m super excited about it. All the proceeds are going to the organization Dillon has been part of for years now. They help people on the spectrum by teaching them life skills, like managing finances, building resumes, communication skills, and stronger relationships, stuff like that. They’ve been great for Dill.” River takes my hand in his. “You can be my date, if you’d like.”
He squeezes my hand, holding my gaze. “I’d love to.”
We stand together in the middle aisle of the overpacked store. It’s probably no more than six hundred square feet, lined floor to ceiling with records and old band memorabilia. The walls have signed artist pictures and concert tickets, set lists, and guitar picks in frames.
Frankie, the owner, saunters over to say hello—pink mohawk and all. Some things never change.
The Vinyl Kitty sits above Iconic, the rock n’ roll bar that Frankie also owns. I remember getting a fake ID when River and I went to watch one of our favorite bands play. They have an all-ages night, but on the night this particular band was playing, you had to be twenty-one and older to get in. They weren’t a well-known band, but we loved them. The Jack and Dianes were a punk rock, angsty, mess of a band. I still remember the way River pumped his fist to the beat, the wild look in his eyes as he stared at the stage.
Tonight is his chance. Blue Label is playing there, at Iconic. The big show. Three agents will be in the crowd and the band’s hoping one will see something in them and pick them up.
We pick up a handful of records at The Vinyl Kitty. The cashier is a young girl with a white pixie cut who’s making out with her boyfriend that probably isn’t supposed to be behind the counter, but the girl probably knows Frankie is too cool to reprimand her.
Frankie gives River the key to let us into the building early to set up. Walking in, I feel a sentimental wave roll over me.
The dark red walls are lined with black trim, and vinyl records make up the entire floor, resting perfectly under glass. Coolest. Fucking. Spot. Ever.
The entire bar has a sequin top with glass over it. It’s blinding, but beautiful. I’m checking out the records under the floor surface, seeing if I remember any of them, when River grabs me by the waist.
“Remember the last time we were here?” he whispers into my ear, dropping his guitar case and biting down gently on my ear lobe.
Boy, do I. We had sex in the bathroom. We were overcome with teenage emotions and hormones and the music and the atmosphere.
“Mmm hmm.” I nod my head, nuzzling his face as he buries it into my neck. He trails his lips up to my mouth, and I feel him smile against my lips as he kisses me.
His phone buzzes beneath the fabric of his jeans, where it rests in his pocket. He stops and slides his phone out to check it. “Probably one of the guys calling to be let in. Fucking terrible timing.” He smirks up at me. When he looks back down at his phone, his lips spread into a thin line and I practically hear him take a nervous gulp.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“N-no, it’s nothing,” he stammers, locking his phone and shoving it back into his jeans. “We should probably get set up. Wanna help me unload my stuff or do you want a drink?” He tries to play it off, giving me his wickedly attractive grin, but I see right through it.
“Are you sure nothing is wrong? Your entire demeanor just changed when your phone went off.” I don’t want to push too hard because tonight is big for him. But was it her?
“I’m just nervous about tonight.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “But there’s something I need to tell—”
A banging on the door ensues, pulling us from our conversation.
“It must be the guys,” he says, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. “We’ll talk after the show, okay?”
With that, he runs off, leaving a dangling question mark in his absence.
“Ruby!” I shout over the loud flowing music in Iconic. “Ruby! Over here!” Our eyes lock before she hurries over to me. She looks really good. She’s been sober for a while now, after a brief relapse.
“Hi, Ava!” Ruby’s face lights up when she makes it to where I stand with Hailee and Oliver. “I can’t believe my little brother is about to play a show for some of the most important people in the industry.” She swats at her long bangs, shifting them.
“I’m so glad you could be here. You look amazing,” I tell her, and her already rosy cheeks redden even more. Just as we ease into conversation, the lights dim and the band takes their respective places on the stage. “Here we go!” I turn to her and then Hailee, squealing in excitement for River.
Three songs in and he looks hotter than ever with his guitar strapped around his body, tight black Offspring shirt, black jeans, and black and white Converse. He runs his hand through his hair before settling them on his electric guitar. The stage lights bounce off his body, creating colorful diamond shapes that emphasize the curves of his biceps as they strain while he strums.
He closes his eyes and I watch him lose himself in the rhythm. Something I’ve seen before, too many times to count. I find him attractive doing just about anything, but I always feel a rush of warmth running deep in my veins at seeing him in his element like this. Just like that, I forget the weirdness from earlier. Any questions disappear, replaced with sheer desire.
Iconic isn’t much bigger than The Vinyl Kitty, so we’re all packed into the place, the crowd close together and jamming along to the sounds of Blue Label.
Hailee, Oliver, and I stand by the stage and sip our drinks. We made a pact to pace ourselves more than we did the last time we were all together. But three songs in and Hailee has already broken our rules, bringing us a shot at the end of each song.
“Wooo!” she screams when the crowd finishes clapping, and the guys start in on the next song.
I’m slightly embarrassed. but I think the majority of the crowd is tipsy enough to not judge us.
River’s eyes meet with mine when he looks up, and his face softens. The way his fingers dance along the guitar strings, like music and me are the only things that matter in this moment, makes me swoon. I’m on a high, intoxicated from the mix of alcohol and him, when Hailee nudges me so hard I spill my drink down the front of me, my ice-cold Corona seeping down my tits and onto my stomach, sending a ripple of goosebumps to life on my skin.