Felix
I spend most of the next couple days practicing the cello parts to the songs on the most recent AJ album. Everything We Are is more musically complex than their first album, but it still isn’t Bach. Playing the notes isn’t a problem, though there are places I want to play differently than Mason. I text Jenna, and she says that’s fine.
I hope it’s still fine when she hears me play.
Alec is the first person to show up to practice besides me. I’ve already been there for hours, as evidenced by my three empty coffee cups. I haven’t eaten much and I’m jittery, but I have all the songs down, and tentative cello parts for several of the songs Mason didn’t play.
Alec walks in and surveys the damage. I’ve got the sheet music to just about everything printed and spread all over, and I’m halfway through track six of Everything We Are, a ballad called “Imperfect Perfection” about finally finding the person who will accept and love you for your faults as much as your strengths.
This part of the story, I’m still not sure I believe.
“You’ve been playing with the recording?” Alec asks. He leans against the wall, his thumbs jammed into the pockets of his fitted jeans.
“Yeah,” I say. “I know it’s not the same as live, but it’s something.”
Alec nods. “You don’t have to be a carbon copy of Mason, you know.”
“And I’m not. But it’s not a bad place to start. It’s what your fans will be looking for, anyway.”
“Our fans,” Alec says. “They’ll accept you if you do something different, as long as you don’t suck.”
“Thanks, man. No pressure.”
Alec laughs. “Dude. You’re jumping in with a week to performance. Pressure is definitely on.”
“Yeah, well,” I say. “Bring it.”
Alec smiles, but then his face grows serious. “I heard you and Jenna didn’t take me up on my offer.”
My mouth opens a little, and I try not to gape at him. Are we seriously going to have a conversation right here in the studio about how I didn’t sleep with Jenna?
How much does he know, anyway?
“You heard right,” I say.
Alec shakes his head, like he’s disappointed in us. “Jenna’s gorgeous, but don’t let her get to you.”
Now I actually do gape at him. “Are you suggesting I can’t control where I put my penis when there’s a beautiful woman around?”
“I’m suggesting she’s hot,” Alec says. “I was all over that, remember?”
I remember. I’m surrounded by reminders, right down to the very music I’m playing. Which suddenly seems a whole lot less theoretical with Alec standing in front of me. I have no idea how much of the stuff in their music is made up, and how much is based on how they used to be together.
I at once want to ask her, and am afraid to know.
“I don’t blame you for being into her,” Alec says. “I still think you guys should have done it and gotten it over with. But if that’s not your style, hands off. That’s all I’m saying.” He scratches at the dark beard scruff he seems to keep in a constant five o’ clock shadow.
He seems to be judging me for not wanting to have a one-night stand. “Thanks for the advice.” I sound more pissed about this than I want to on my first day on the job, but far less than is warranted by Alec’s remarks.
Alec doesn’t seem fazed by any of it. “No problem,” he says, as if I’d meant to thank him earnestly. Then he starts turning on and checking the sound equipment.
Thankfully Jenna and Ty arrive before Alec thinks of any other warnings to issue me, and before I decide to tell him off for suggesting I’m not into Jenna for anything but her body.
Ty bounds in, waving his iPad. “Hey, Felix! Look how far I am in Angry Birds!” Just like the first time I saw him, he’s wearing a sweater vest—a dark green one this time—over a collared shirt, with dress pants and loafers. Private school uniform, maybe? I realize that for all I know about Jenna, which is a considerable amount after so few days, there’s a lot I still don’t know when it comes to the day-to-day—both for her and Ty.
Jenna strides down the stairs, looking over his shoulder. “Wait,” she says. “How far are you? You haven’t passed me, have you?”
She smiles at me and I smile back, and have a hard time keeping it from lingering. I feel better just being in the same room as her. She’s wearing a gray tank top over dark jeans today. Her black bra straps peek out from under the tank top, and a dainty silver necklace with a small medallion dangles just below her collarbone. It’s a simple look, more so than I’ve previously seen on her, but she looks no less amazing in it.
“I’m on 4-16.” Ty’s bright voice tears me away from staring too long at his mom. He shows me a screen with a pile of pigs in a hole, with a bunch of stone blocks holding them in.
“Oh, no,” Jenna says. “If you get to 4-18 during practice, let me know right away, okay? You are not allowed to pass me up. It’s the only thing I can beat you at.”
“That’s not fair,” Ty says. “I could beat you if you let me.”
Jenna shakes her head. “This is my one remaining strand of pride, and I’m holding on to the bitter end.”
Ty scowls at me. “If I get ahead of her, she’ll take my iPad away.”
Jenna nods. “Damn straight.”
Ty settles down at my feet, almost sitting on my bow. “Here! You can watch!”
And I do, as he sends a bird sailing right into the pig defenses and knocking a bunch of them out.
“Nice,” I tell him.
Ty grins.
Out of her bag, Jenna produces two big pastry boxes, and presents one to me. “I made you a pie,” she says. “To welcome you to the band.”
Alec rolls his eyes, and Ty gives me a sly smile. I feel like they know something about this pie that I don’t. Also, she bakes? It’s not something I would have suspected, but somehow I can see it—Jenna rolling out the dough, accidentally getting flour in her jet-black hair. “Thanks,” I say. When she hands me the box, our fingers brush, and we both smile.
Again, I have to remember to stop.
Roxie arrives, and is adjusting the height of her stool for her platform boots when Leo comes in, waving a tube around in his hand.
“All right, Rox!” he calls. “Take off your boots.”
Alec swears. “After practice, Leo.”
“No way,” Leo says. “And let her toe fungus continue to grow in those contaminated wedges?”
Roxie looks surprised that Leo calls her shoes that, though I don’t know whether it’s because he’s correct or making stuff up again.
She recovers quickly. “Leo,” she says, wielding a drum stick like a hammer. “If you come near me with that stuff, so help me—”
“Enough!” Alec says. “Roxie, just put on the cream. You lost the vote. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner we can play already.”
“Do you have toe fungus, Roxie?” Ty asks. “Maybe you should keep your feet in the refrigerator so they don’t mold. That’s what Mom does.”
We all look at Jenna.
“With food,” she says. “Not my feet.”
“Right,” Ty says, frowning. “That’s what I said.”
Leo, at this point, notices the pastry box in my lap. “Jenna made pie? Sweet! Dish up, man.”
Jenna shakes her head. “That’s for Felix.”
“All for him?” Leo whines. “Come on, Jenna. Don’t hold out on us.”
“Let her be,” Alec says. “She just needs to give him the pie and get it over with.”
Both Jenna and I glare at him, and now the kid looks confused.
“I brought two pies,” Jenna says. “One to share with the band, and one for Felix. To welcome him. One of us has to be a decent person.”
“I’m decent,” Leo says. “And I have an indecent appetite for your pie.”
Alec looks at Leo like he’s just said something utterly disgusting, but he does take the slice of what looks like kiwi-lime pie Leo hands him as he digs into the second box.
I set mine aside, too nervous about the upcoming practice to eat. “Mind if I save it until after?”
“Sure,” Jenna says. “It’s your pie.”
Ty looks at me like I’m crazy. “I want a piece now.” Jenna arches an eyebrow at him, and Ty grumbles out an abashed, “Please.”
Leo offers him one, and Ty sets about destroying it.
I start warming up, even though technically I’ve been playing for hours. Mostly I just want to look like I’m doing something while Leo puts down his pie, pulls Roxie’s boots off her feet, removes her socks, and proceeds to give her a foot massage.
I’ve never had foot fungus, but I’m pretty sure he’s exceeding the amount of caressing that is medically necessary. I look at Jenna, and Jenna looks back at me, and we both have the same wide-eyed look.
Are they? I mouth at her.
She shrugs, and shakes her head.
Roxie has her head tilted back now, and her eyes half-closed, her mouth emitting sounds that remind me of yesterday afternoon with Jenna at the hotel. I try not to think about the way my body felt when I kissed her, the way her fingers teased the back of my neck, spreading goosebumps all over my body. I go back to playing, but now I’m not even hitting the right notes. They all look at me in surprise, and I lower my bow.
“Sorry,” I say, and I cast around for an excuse that doesn’t involve me getting lost in fantasies or not knowing how to play my own damn instrument, and fail to find one.
“All right,” Alec says. “Can we get started?”
Jenna sits down at the keyboard, which I notice used to be positioned across the room, but is now next to my spot. Alec gives Jenna a look that tells me he notices, too, but he doesn’t say anything else.
And then we play.
The first song is a crashing, fast-paced number in which Jenna and Alec take turns singing about all their many exes and how they don’t compare to what they have now. The cello part is simple, and I watch Jenna as I play. Her fingers are light on the keys, and she sings like she means it. Her voice is husky and gorgeous and I find myself getting lost in it.
It’s not like I haven’t heard her voice plenty by now, given how many times I’ve heard their albums over the last couple days, and I already knew she’s seriously talented. But listening to her sing live like this—damn, she’s good. And this shouldn’t affect the way I feel about her, but it does. I know it’s probably my imagination, but as we play, her voice and the notes from my cello seem to vibrate together with this intensity that echoes the attraction I felt for her yesterday, and always.
I smile as I think of Alec being one of the exes in the song, like Jenna is singing it all for me.
Next we play one of the slower numbers. Alec is calling the shots, and I wonder if he realized when he picked this song that it would be more difficult for me than the last. The cello part for this one is complicated, because it ticks up into counterpoint, adding a second melody during the bridge. I’m actually impressed with Mason for having tried it—it’s daring for pop music, and while I don’t think this one is going to be a hit single, the effect is both beautiful and fun. It also requires me to blend like hell.
When we hit the bridge, I don’t blend. I’m not even listening to Jenna anymore as I try to get the tone right. I’m playing the notes, but the tempo is off. For the recording, they played the song more straight up, but now everyone is following Roxie’s lead, when I’m used to either following a conductor or making it up as I go. Roxie doesn’t stand in front and signal me when she’s going to speed up or slow down. In the part where I’ve been practicing a rubato, slowing down to emphasize the melody, she speeds up, and so do Jenna and Alec on the keyboard and lead guitar.
The result is disastrous. I try to correct, but it’s too late. We all careen in different directions and Alec stops playing and waves for everyone to stop.
I want to walk out right there. I cannot be so bad at this.
“All right,” Alec says. “You okay, Felix?”
I feel like disappearing. “Yeah, sorry.”
“No big,” Alec says. “This is why we practice. You want to do the bridge again, or take it from the top?”
“From the top.” And this time I listen to Roxie, focusing on following her. I’ve come up with a set of bowings, but I can already see where I need to make corrections to fix my sound. I can’t fix the sheet music fast enough while we play, but I also know that a week from now, I’ll be up on a stage without music in hand, because that’s how they roll in rock music.
The idea is terrifying.
The second go through of the song is better, but not great. We move on to a couple easier pieces—for me anyway—and then Alec wants to do a song that has no cello part.
“You want to sit this one out, Felix?” he asks.
“No. Let me try what I’ve come up with and see what you think.”
Alec nods, and Roxie counts off.
This one goes better. When I hear it all together, I quickly realize the music I’ve composed is too complicated—it sounds like I’m trying to compete for attention. So I simplify a bit on the fly, and by the end of the song, it’s actually blending.
Alec looks at the others when we finish, and everybody nods.
“That was great,” Jenna says to me, and Alec agrees.
“Almost as good as Mason,” Ty says, and Jenna gives him a look.
I’m not sure I would call it great, but at least now I’m bordering on passable. “I’ll catch up to Mason eventually.”
“Sure,” Alec says. “Let’s try another one.”
Alec tirelessly grinds me through every song in their repertoire, listening to everything I’ve written to go along with the songs. Some are better than others, and Leo offers me some notes about how I can change to better complement his guitar line, which frankly is doing the same job my cello wants to do in most of the songs. He doesn’t seem to think I’m trying to step on his toes, though, barefoot or otherwise.
By the end of practice, I’m doing better, but still not great. I can’t even remember the last time I came out of a practice having performed so badly. I even played better when I was high.
My hands are shaking again, and I hope no one notices.
Jenna pulls her stool over to sit next to me. “What do you think?”
I grumble under my breath. “I think I have a lot of work to do.”
She smiles, and I don’t love the hint of pity I see in it. “You’re a brilliant cellist. But this is a lot of new material really fast.”
It’s not the material. I can play the music. “I guess I underestimated how different it would be to play with a band. Orchestras are more . . . organized. I have to get used to not being conducted.”
“I don’t know,” Jenna says. “We could make Alec wear tails and stand in front of us and wave his arms.”
Alec ignores this suggestion. “You did fine,” he says to me. “It’s not as bad as you think.”
I’ve been told that a million times in my life. I’m not any more inclined to believe it now. “Thanks.”
Jenna looks down at Ty and gasps, seizing his iPad so fast I’m afraid he’s been watching snuff porn right at my feet.
“No!” she says. “That’s 4-18. My turn.”
“You said I couldn’t beat 4-18. I was just going to try a few birds.”
Jenna clutches the iPad like it’s her precious and sits down next to me.
“You’re on my bow,” I say, and I put my hand on her shoulder to move her over.
When she moves, I don’t want to let go.
“Good to have you with us, man,” Leo says. He lifts his bare foot onto one of the amps and fishes something out from between his toes.
Roxie makes a face. “Tell me you’re not going barefoot on stage.” She appeals to Alec. “Tell him he can’t do that. I don’t care about his acoustics.”
“I care about his sound,” Jenna says. “But I’m not sure the bare feet actually improve it.”
“All band members will continue to wear shoes,” Alec says. “All in favor?”
Everyone’s hand goes up but mine, not because I oppose footwear, but because I’m not getting in the middle of this. Though I do reluctantly remember to move my hand off Jenna’s shoulder. Not that she protested it being there.
Even Leo votes yes.
“There we go,” Alec says. “No longer an issue.”
Roxie looks at Leo suspiciously. “You want to wear shoes?”
“Heck, yes,” Leo says. “I just got the tracking number for my alligator boots. I shot the gator myself, and now the boots are all ready, right in time for the show.”
Roxie’s eyes bug so large she’s practically an anime character. “You’re going to wear alligator boots on stage? What if PETA shows up? We’ll get paint thrown on us.”
“Roxie, baby,” Leo says, “you wear enough leather to have killed a whole ranch by now. I think if PETA were coming after us, they’d already be here.”
“Ha! 4-18! Reigning Rollins champion.” Jenna hands her iPad back to Ty and then turns to Roxie. “Leo will be wearing long pants,” she says. “No one will even notice the boots.”
“True,” Leo says. “My matching alligator vest, on the other hand—”
Roxie makes a sound that’s a cross between a roar and a groan, and Leo grins. Roxie looks at Alec, presumably hoping he’ll object to the vest, but Alec just shrugs. “No one goes barefoot, you use the cream, and Leo shuts up about your foot fungus. Problems solved. Leo can wear his vest as long as Allison approves it.”
“Allison is our costumer,” Jenna tells me. “We’ll want to run your outfit by her, as well. Do you know what you want to wear?”
“I wear what I’m told. Allison can have free rein.”
“I wouldn’t give her that much freedom,” Jenna says. “She’ll turn you into David Bowie.”
I must look afraid, because Jenna laughs. “We’ll give her some guidance. Something like your normal look would be good. T-shirt and jeans—nice ones, like the ones you’re wearing. Maybe a little tighter, with some nice black boots.”
“Tighter?” I give Jenna a look. A small smile plays across her lips.
And then I notice Alec glaring at us.
Right. Whatever we are to each other in private, we’re not supposed to be doing that in front of anyone else.
I clear my throat. “If that’s what you want.”
Jenna’s eyes flash, and I see her bite back a comment about what exactly she wants.
It’s mutual.
I fish for a change of subject, and remember what I promised to Gabby. “Hey, by the way,” I say, “my sister’s best friend is getting married in a couple weeks. Her friend is an actress on that soap, Southern Heat? And her fiancé is this big deal Hollywood agent. Anyway, my sister was wondering if we’d play the wedding, like, as a maid of honor gift. I know it’s kind of last-minute and you guys probably don’t play small stuff like that, but it’s going to be this huge thing with lots of people from the industry. I mean, the wrong industry, right? But still it might be good for—”
I stop talking when I realize I’m rambling and everyone else is staring.
“Did you rehearse all of that?” Jenna asks with a grin. “Because you’re in the band. You can just say, hey, can we play this wedding, and we would say, yeah, if we’re in town, why not?”
“Except Alec,” Leo says. “Alec will want to know what’s in it for him.”
“Hollywood connections,” Roxie says. “What do you say, Alec?”
Alec shrugs. “Sure. It’s before we leave on tour?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Between the LA concert and when we fly out.”
Alec points to a calendar on the wall. “Write it down.” I grab a marker and while I start writing, I notice that three weeks ago, they played an event someone wrote down as “Roxie’s mom’s garden party.”
Okay, yeah. I may have oversold.
“My sister,” I say, “is going to die.”
“I hope not,” Leo says. “We don’t do funerals.”
Everyone digs in to Jenna’s pie again, and I eat mine right out of the tin. It’s apple, and straight-up delicious, but it isn’t warm. Jenna smiles at me, and I wonder if that joke is intentional.
I’m pretty sure it is.
“How is it?” she asks.
“The best,” I say. I hope she gets that I’m talking about more than just the pie.
When everyone packs up to leave, I wave for Jenna to hold up. Ty is already outside bouncing up and down, but Jenna calls for him to wait a second. She turns to me.
I pull a phone out of my pocket. “My sister pointed out that I probably shouldn’t be texting you much on your regular phone. So I got you a burner.”
Jenna looks delighted. “Do you have one, too?”
I pull out a second, identical phone. “My number’s already in there.”
Jenna grins. “So I can call you anytime.”
“Day or night,” I say, and her eyes dance.
We both look away, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking.
“Call me tonight?” I ask.
She gives me a smile that makes me want to pull her in my arms and kiss her right there. It’s a good thing I have all that practice not doing drugs, because I manage to stay still. If I don’t move, I can’t kiss her.
But god, I want her.
“Absolutely,” she says. And then she floats up the stairs, and is gone.