Fully Automatic (Bullet) (10 page)

So when Nick and Zane joined him back at the
Ethan’s truck where Brad had Ethan lying in the front passenger seat, he said, “Here’s the deal.  We’re heading home.  If his breathing changes or something weird happens, you tell me.”

“Define
weird
.”  Nick didn’t look as though he liked the plan.

“If we get home and things are the same, I have my mom look at him.”  Zane’s expression was a mixture of pissed off and confused
, but he didn’t say anything.  “My mom’s a nurse, remember?”

Zane nodded.  “Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

There was one problem Brad hadn’t thought of—he had the trailer hooked to Ethan’s truck, and so the truck wouldn’t haul ass like it usually did.  Secondly, he didn’t feel comfortable cranking the music like he normally would have, because he wanted them to be able to hear Ethan—if he was breathing or choking or gasping or if he wound up talking.  The problem was playing no music made Brad even more nervous, and the ride home was tense and seemed to last forever.

They made it, though, and Ethan was no worse for the wear.  He got to his house and cursed because he’d forgotten his mom was working that night.  So he called her and asked if he brought Ethan by if she could take a look at him.  She told him it was his lucky night because they were slow.  They had three recovering moms and on
e nowhere near needing to push.  There were two other nurses on duty, besides, so she could take a break.  When she asked why, Brad said he’d be there in a bit.  Stupid as it was, he unhooked the trailer, not wanting to imagine how he’d maneuver the fucker in the hospital parking lot, and then he asked if Nick and Zane wanted to come with or have him drop them off at home.

Both guys said they’
d come along, so they jumped back in the truck and flew to the hospital.  Brad texted his mom when they got there, and in less than five minutes, she was outside.  “What’s going on, boys?”

“Ethan took something.  We don’t know what.  But we want to make sure he didn’t OD.”

His mom cocked an eyebrow at him, and he knew what she was thinking—why hadn’t they taken him straight to the ER?  But then she answered her own question.  She’d been a teen once.  She knew.  And then he could see the next question in her eyes, which was wondering what they’d been doing.  But she was cool.  And she was prepared.  She had a little flashlight, and she lifted one of Ethan’s lids and shined the light.  Brad couldn’t tell if she was shining it directly in his eyes or beside them, because he wanted to give her some space.  He, Nick, and Zane huddled around on the side of the truck, and Brad didn’t even notice the cold.  He knew part of it was because he’d had that beer, but he thought part of it was fear for his friend.  He felt the cold
now
, though, now that he’d processed the thought, and he considered getting his jacket from the driver’s side of the truck and decided against it.

His mom had the stethoscope on and was listening to Ethan’s heart.  Then she picked up his wrist and Brad thought she was measuring his pulse.  Finally, she said, “Ethan.  Ethan, talk to me.  It’s Barb, Ethan
.  I need you to talk to me.”  Her voice was firm but not harsh, and she kept talking to him, saying his name.

Ethan fluttered his eyes and stirred.  He muttered something.  Brad couldn’t hear it, but his mom respond
ed.  He missed that too, but Nick was visibly relieved, gesturing to him and Zane.  His mom said, “Ethan, I need to know what you took.”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?  You were there, weren’t you?”  Oh, she was using the mom voice on Ethan, and Brad knew fully well that his mother had the same effect on his friend that she did on him.

Ethan’s eyes widened
, and he seemed to try to sit up, but then his head fell back on the chair and his eyes closed.  Brad couldn’t take it anymore and walked deeper into the parking lot.  His fear was that maybe his friend had ruined his brain or maybe his mom couldn’t help him.  Should he have stopped him?  He knew he wouldn’t have been able to.  In February he and Ethan had come to blows over something Ethan wanted to take, and finally Brad had to simply throw his hands in the air.  Nor would Ethan listen to reason.  Ethan was an adult (even if in the loosest sense of the word), and Brad could no more control him than he could the sun.

That said, should he have taken his friend to the nearest hospital rather than bringing Ethan home for his mother to check him out?  Probably, but it was too late to fix it now.  And he knew Ethan would have killed him once he was awake and aware.

A few minutes later, he heard his mom’s voice in the distance.  “Brad.  Bradley Payne!  Come here.”

Oh.  That was serious if she was calling him
Bradley
.  He hustled back to the passenger side of the truck.  Nick and Zane were still close, but they were standing back some, talking quietly to each other.  Brad’s mom said, “Okay, here’s the deal.  I can’t get out of him what he took, but I think he’s going to be okay.  You are
not
going to take him home, not because I want to keep it a secret from June, because I think we need to let her know what’s happened tonight.  Call her if you need to, to let her know he’s spending the night sleeping it off.  You are going to place him in the recliner in the living room.  He needs to be mostly sitting up so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit.  And I would appreciate it if you got up every couple of hours to check on him until I get home.”

Brad nodded.  He felt like his mom had saved everything.  He nodded again, feeling pathetic but relieved.
  And he planned on staying up all fucking night until he was sure his best friend was okay.

Chapter Eleven

BY MARCH, TWO revelations had given Brad some perspective on his crush—and that was what it was:  a crush.  An irrational one at that.

Brad realized first that he’d met Valerie at a point in his life where he was primed for that kind of reaction.  He hadn’t been in a real relationship for months, and he’d been hanging with skanky girls and banging an older woman, so when he met sweet Val, a young lady who reminded him of his Leah, he’d found her irresistible.  A little time gave him perspective and helped the crush die a quiet death.

He’d also gotten a few tidbits here and there, mostly through what was
not
said—well, that and Facebook.  Putting the pieces together, Brad was pretty sure Val and Ethan had become involved
somehow
.  How, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he had the idea something was going on.

But then, one of the weekends Ethan and Zane came home for a show, Ethan showed Brad lots of new song lyrics he was writing music for.  They were unlike anything Ethan had ever written before, full of depth, wonder, and beauty, and when Brad asked more questions, he discovered why.  Those words hadn’t been written by Ethan; they’d been written by Valerie, and Ethan had taken to calling her his
muse.
  Reading those words gave Brad the same feelings he’d had when he’d been around her, but he didn’t feel like he could approach her, whether he was her Facebook friend or not.  She didn’t know him (in spite of the promise he’d made her in the passion of the moment), so she probably wouldn’t appreciate if he became overly friendly, whether or not he’d read her lyrics.

But maybe he could change that.  Ethan and Zane had almost missed one of their shows in February
, and Brad had decided maybe he needed to slow down on gigs until the summer when Ethan would be nearby and easier to control.  If Ethan decided to not show, Brad could move on.  They could take a couple songs out of a set and they could just use one guitar for other songs, but he couldn’t move forward without a bassist.  Zane had always been trustworthy, but when he had to rely on Ethan to give him a ride, all bets were off, and Ethan seemed to be moving toward another bad phase.

So, between Ethan’s instability and Brad’s desire to see Valerie again to find out if his feelings for her were insignificant, he booked a show at The Cave which was close to Ethan and Zane
, and there would be no excuse for Ethan not showing up.  If his friend couldn’t be bothered to make it to a goddamned show, Brad would bring the show to him.

The whole thing with Valerie, though—it pissed Brad off more than he wanted to admit.  He wasn’t mad at Valerie.  The girl herself had never hidden that she was smitten with Ethan.  Ethan, though, had given Brad the go ahead, had said he wasn’t interested in Val.  Ethan was fucked in the head sometimes, though, and Brad thought he knew why.  He was sure his friend just couldn’t resist being adored
anymore and had given in to her worship.

Well, it was probably better that way.  Brad hadn’t stood a chance, no matter how drawn to her he felt.

Zane called a few days before the show and told Brad that Valerie was going to watch the show.  He wanted to warn Brad and Nick, because Zane and Val were still friends, but she was no longer on speaking terms with Ethan.  Brad asked why.

“Man, I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with Ethan.  They were actually dating for a while, and I was like
,
it’s about time
.  But Ethan started fucking around on her.  Made no sense.  And I think it was a complete slap in the face because she’d been writing all those lyrics for him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s a really sweet girl.”

Brad didn’t disagree
, but he was afraid of what his voice might betray if he told Zane what he really thought about her.  “But she’s coming to the show anyway?”

“Well, yeah.  Val
and me are good friends, and if you wrote a bunch of words to some rockin’ songs, wouldn’t you want to see them performed live?”

“Yeah, I guess I would.”  Brad wasn’t going to complain.  He wanted to see her again, see if he still had those same crazy strong feelings for her.
  No way would he say that to Zane, though.  As it was, he was kicking himself for saying anything to Ethan to begin with.  The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he had practically pushed his friend into her arms.  Ethan hadn’t thought twice about the girl before Christmas break.  Brad knew that much based on their conversation.  But when he found out Brad was interested and the guy admitted that he knew Valerie was carrying a torch for him…well, he just couldn’t resist trying her out.  But, like Brad had suspected, she wasn’t enough to keep Ethan.  Ethan liked his girls with a harder edge, and Valerie just didn’t have that.  Yeah, she loved their music, but she wasn’t dark and tormented or skanky beyond belief.  Those were the kinds of girls Ethan liked—the ones just like his demented ass or the ones who could fuck him twenty different ways on the first date alone.  Brad suspected the second trend would get even worse as they got older, because they’d be able to find more and more women willing to do weird stuff.  Right now, the young girls weren’t too experienced, so they weren’t as eager to try things as those who’d been around the block once or twice.

So, once more, Valerie was heavy on his mind as the day of their gig approached.  He hoped that his feelings would be diminished, that he would see her and realize he’d just experienced some weird, inexplicable infatuation before and now things had returned to normal.

He was afraid, though, that he would find that nothing had changed.

* * *

Nick’s dad let him and Brad borrow his truck, and they packed up the back with Nick’s drum kit, amps, and two of Brad’s guitars, plus all the little things they needed.  They usually used Ethan’s truck with the trailer but that would, of course, have involved Ethan.  Brad knew he needed to find another solution to how they toured.  For now, though, they’d manage.

He hadn’t wanted to, but he felt himself growing excited as they got closer and closer.  He was feeling like a kid at Christmas, anticipating something that he had great hopes for but that would probably let him down, much like the gifts under the tree often did.  No matter how great the presents were, they’d rarely been able to live up to his way-too-high expectations.  As his mind dwelled on Valerie, he tried to keep reminding himself of that.

But he couldn’t.  He was jazzed beyond belief.  When they got to The Cave, he was pleasantly surprised to see his other two band members there already.  Ethan and Zane helped Brad and Nick unload the truck and get all their gear set up offstage in preparation for their turn.  They would be the second band to play that night.  The first had already set up.

Brad had never played with either of the bands that were there that night, but he always made sure to introduce himself to other band members when he could.  No one stayed a stranger around Brad for long, and most times he considered the people he met on the road allies.  They all had the same goal, the same dreams.  Once in a while, he’d meet people who were perfectly content
only playing locally, who wanted to play and be heard and nothing more, but most of the people he met wanted big recognition—just like he did.  He wanted to be heard; he wanted people to love his music.  The money?  Not as important, except in the regard that earning enough money as a band would mean he could spend more time focusing solely on the music instead of working for someone else for minimum wage.  But to pour his heart into his art…he didn’t do it only for himself.  His art was meant to be appreciated by others as well.

So, as was his usual custom, he made his way around the backstage area
first, introducing himself to the first person he could, and it went from there.  He knew that pissed Ethan off; he wasn’t sure why.  The only thing he could figure was that Ethan thought they were better than most of the other people they played with, and so he was above mingling with the riffraff.  He’d never asked Ethan and wouldn’t because he didn’t want to know.  He hoped Ethan would come around eventually.  Zane and Nick had no problems socializing with other bands, but they didn’t go out of their way like Brad did, and he was okay with that.  He knew he was unusual in that regard.  Nick even bordered on shy, so Brad could understand why he had a bit of a harder time, but Ethan was flat out aloof sometimes, and he was worried about what kind of reputation that would give his band.  Maybe that was why he himself went overboard on the flip side, to make sure other bands knew they were approachable.  If his band was perceived as not only great sounding but easy to get along with, it could pave the way to being invited to more (and bigger) shows.  He wanted to be thought of when those opportunities came up.

And so he spent a good half hour pressing palms, chewing the fat with other bands, getting to know the guys in them.  The last band of the night had a big merchandise table, and Brad started asking questions.  He knew Fully Automatic was missing out on opportunities to make money by
not selling merchandise.  He’d seen lots of great tables over the past year too—not only t-shirts, but buttons, bumper stickers, and—of course—CDs.  The CDs would have to wait until they could afford to buy some studio time, but he wanted to know if having a merch table would be worth it.  If they could make more money, they would be able to spend more time honing their craft.  There was no denying it.

The guy he was talking to said, “Let me take you out to our table to talk to Shane.  We all man it sometimes, but he’s the guy doing it tonight.  He can show you how it’s done.”

They walked out front and Brad was introduced to Shane.  He asked, “What’s the most important thing you can tell me about having a merch table?”

Shane took a second, giving it some thought.  Then he said, “Well, sometimes it’s to give your stuff away.  I know.  Sounds like the worst thing to do, but trust me.  You have some beautiful chick walk past your table without giving you a second thought, give her a shirt.  And it’s not to score.  But if she’s walking around wearing your shirt, tits out to here, your band name stretched across her rack, she’ll get noticed, and so will your name.  Ask her to wear it during the concert.  Free publicity, dude, and that’s worth every penny.”

Brad was dubious but didn’t say anything.  A couple of people approached the table, and one wanted to buy a shirt.  Shane offered a discount if the guy bought two.  While they were negotiating, Brad was scanning faces.  The place wasn’t packed yet, and the house lights wouldn’t be turned off until the show, so he could see the people in the crowd.

And that’s when he noticed
her.
  Except she looked a little different.  She was sitting at a table next to a girl with short blonde hair, talking and looking excited and happy.  If that was Valerie (and he still wasn’t completely sure), she’d teased her hair a little.  Her eye makeup was heavy and dark, something she hadn’t done last fall, and she was wearing a black tank top.  Without taking his eyes off her, he leaned toward Shane.  “Be back in a few.”

He stood, and he knew he had to put on a game face.  One thing he’d learned in his few short years was that chicks dug confidence.  He knew that was why Ethan got away with so much shit.  Brad didn’t intend to push his luck, because he knew you could go from confident to cocky in short order, but he did want to communicate through his body language that there was no hesitation.  He knew what he wan
ted, and he wasn’t afraid to go after it.

As he got closer, he knew it definitely
was
Valerie, but she’d metaled out.  She looked...
hot
.  She’d been sweet and innocent before, something that had attracted Brad from the get go, but now she was dressed like a metalhead and she was gorgeous.  Oh, fuck, he had it bad.  Just seeing her confirmed it.  But he needed to test the waters, because maybe what he’d felt last December had been a fluke.  Physical attraction was one thing, but it wasn’t
everything
, and it wasn’t the basis of what he’d felt.  No, instead…instead, there was something else, something intangible between them.

Or at least that’s how he remembered it.  He needed to find out if it was for real.

So he took a deep breath and imagined testosterone coursing through his veins, and then he made his way to the table where Valerie and her friend sat.  Oh, hell, yeah.  Jesus.  She was wearing spiked wristbands too.  She’d tripped some trigger last time they’d been together, but this time, he knew exactly what alarms were going off in his head.  She was sexy and he was turned on.  Another deep breath.  He had this.

He slid into the chair next to her. 
She sensed him, because she turned, and he noticed her friend looking at him as Val turned her head.  As soon as her eyes met his, he saw the recognition in hers and she smiled.  He said, “Hi, beautiful.”  Fuck.  The reaction he got was more than he’d hoped for.  She was happy to see him and…she was checking him out.  He saw her eyes scour his lips, his chin, his hair.  That was nice.  And he’d been worried.

She propped her chin in her hands, resting her elbows on the table.  That was so cute and flirty.  Yeah, much more than he’d dreamed of.  Her reaction alone was worth the trip here, even if the whole damn crowd hated his band.  But she wasn’t done bowling him over.  “Well, hello back, gorgeous.”  Goddamn.  He had to maintain his cool, but he was feeling his blood surge harder than it had in a long time.  What was it about this girl?  She turned her head slightly back and to the side to indicate the girl next to her, but she held that flirty pose
while she spoke.  “Um…this is my roommate, Jennifer Manders.”