Amplified (23 page)

My lips moved along with hers as I whispered every word, my mind giving each one personal meaning. I may not have written the song, but I could add my story to it. Everyone out there could. That was what made music so powerful.

During the solo, my fingers flew up and down the fret board. Every note was breathing through me, luring me to venture past my limits. Veta followed my rhythm, dancing around me in a circle. She leaned into me as our melodies entangled and repelled each other at the same time.

The vocal break wasn’t supposed to be this long, but the guys kept up well. Bryn lightened the beat, and Sean changed up his bass line, reducing it to a couple of notes.

I dared a glance into the swelling crowd. People were dancing and moshing. Others closed their eyes and reached for the sky. Every inch of my body tingled.

I probably could’ve played like this for days. But I finished up with a high vibrato C and threw myself back into the chorus, my hair flying around my face.

Veta returned to her mic. “You rise above it all. Press my back against the wall. You spew promises you can’t keep. But I can’t hear a thing. No, no, I can’t hear a thing.” She jumped up and down with her guitar. “But your sweet…your sweet…encryption!”

Bryn ended the song with a crash, and a wave of claps and appreciative yells followed. Veta shot me a glance over her shoulder and gave me the thumbs-up. I wiped the sweat off my neck and forehead, trying to catch my breath. One thing was for sure—if I wanted to perform like this all the time, workouts were in order.

The floor was now at least twice as packed as it was before. We’d definitely gotten their attention. Now we just had to keep it.

Felix cued up the start of “Acceleration,” a high-pitched synth (or
mosquito tone
—according to Bryn). Felix was adorable tonight with his blue pigtails, skinny green tie, and white shirt. One hand danced in the air while the other slid across the keyboard.

Sean hammered the bass—tight, quick notes crammed into 130 bpm. He looked incredibly sexy, with one boot on his monitor and his eyes shut in concentration. But I had to stop seeing him like that. As good as touching him felt, I missed his friendship most. In some ways, he understood me better than anyone I’d ever known.

I stomped on what I called my “crusty distortion” effect and followed him with two power chords. The growl of my amp and the heat of the lights made me feel like I was on a desert road somewhere, just like the song. I imagined Sean’s car—because it was a cool car. He was going fast, letting the wind rip through his hair. No smoky air or crowds. Just me and him, watching the sunset ahead, not even needing to talk.

Veta chugged hard on her blue guitar, her hips roving from side to side. “Tight curves, raw moves. Rough you up, bend the rules. I never play nice, ’cause I made up the game.”

I pressed my EBow to the D string and let two high notes sing behind her vocals. A spotlight shone on the crowd. Arms and fists jabbed the air and mouths were open wide as if they were singing along. I got up the nerve to scan the various faces up front. It didn’t take me long to find Amy’s big hair, Teddy’s long face, and Dave’s eye glitter. Teddy was grinning, but Amy and Dave looked like their parents had dragged them to Neil Young Unplugged. Amy folded her arms, her eyes glued to Sean. Would it kill her to show him some support?

I closed my eyes again and pushed myself harder, finishing “Acceleration” with an impromptu lick that spiced up the song even more. The crowd reaction wasn’t as loud as it was for “Encryption,” but it would suffice. At least they weren’t booing or calling me Blondie.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Veta called out. A couple of people hollered a response while others whistled.

“What’s your phone number?” a guy yelled.

Veta grinned. “I’ll never tell.” She nodded behind her. “But our drummer is terminally single and listed.”

This got a bunch of girls screaming. For Bryn’s sake, and all of us who lived in his house, I hoped she was joking.

“I want your CD!” a girl called out. The thought that we were actually gaining fans, right this very minute, blew my mind.

“You can download our EP at C-Side.com now,” Veta said. “But our new album,
Encrypted Lullabies
, will be available from our online store August second. Remember that date, people!”

We dove into “Puppet Girl” next. It slowed the audience some, but their eyes looked wide and interested. And by the end, some of them were singing along.

Each song we did put me deeper into my zone. My fingers were slick, making me miss a note here and there, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to hide from these people—I wanted to be heard, for once, in all my raw glory.

We’d decided to save “Back-Seat Love Affair” for last again. And considering I was all about risk tonight, this song would probably take me over the edge. But the thing about the edge was, it wasn’t so scary anymore. I knew what would happen when I hit the ground. What I needed to figure out was how to jump off and stay afloat.

The intro beat—a thick kick drum—started, and for a second I wondered what would happen if I dropped my pick or screwed up this lick again. I could freeze, yes. But I could also start playing with my fingers. Or turn the screwup into a new idea.

I dove into my intro guitar part, my pick gliding between the strings in an odd rhythm. The melody echoed out to the crowd, promising something bigger. Something more. That’s when Veta and I cranked our distortion and joined Bryn in an explosion of sound, driving everyone into a fury.

Felix’s synth notes rang out like little alarms, firing up the crowd even more. Then we killed the guitars, leaving Sean and Felix to fill out the verse. Bryn played a simple beat, allowing Veta’s vocals to shine.

Veta grabbed the mic and worked the stage, extending her arms toward the crowd. “Come into my little world. Where twilight reigns and kisses taste like novocaine.” She returned to her mic stand, arching her back. “And all your plans go to waste.” She let the last word ring out before charging into the chorus. “Back-seat love affair. With that leather stare. Hardened ecstasy. You’ll never come down.”

I joined her up front, letting her brutal vocals take over my movements. My foot stomped and my body rocked back and forth. I jumped up and hit the ground just as we moved into the speedy chords of the next section.

Sean moved in front of me and smiled—as if challenging me to a duel. I took him on, palm muting the frenetic notes of the bridge. He stayed in sync, tilting his chin up and closing his eyes. And then he did something unexpected. His fingers moved up the neck of his fret board and our roles reversed. He played an ascending bass solo that circled around my repetitive notes, taunting me.

I cut bait on shadowing Veta and moved down my fret board, playing in harmony with Sean. Veta grinned and backed away from the mic. Felix compensated by adding in a low, billowing synth. Bryn switched to a quieter but more incessant beat—as if he knew just where we wanted to go.

Sean played faster and I slowed down, letting each note blend together into a river of noise. As the sound faded, my fingers sped up and Sean scaled back, following and defying me at the same time.

A random blur of images swam through my head: my dad’s doubtful stare when I told him my plans, Jason’s cherubic grin, the horse wallpaper still plastered to the walls of my old room. I’d fought Dad for an hour to get it when I was seven—he wanted some generic kind with yellow flowers. And then I saw the last few weeks—everyone I’d met, good and bad. How they all inspired me in one way or another. Everything from terror to ecstasy spilled out of my fingertips and bled into the strings. I took the tight turns as they came and didn’t flinch.

It all ended with the scream of feedback and me on my knees—I didn’t even know how I got there. I cut the volume and stood, my chest heaving and my hands shaking. The roar of the audience followed—whistles, squeals, shouts, and the dizzying effect of hundreds of hands clapping at once. I was covered in sweat and half my makeup was running down my face, but I didn’t give a damn. I couldn’t even describe how I felt, other than to say nothing—
nothing
—could have prepared me for this moment.

Sean wrapped his arms around my waist. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and I closed my eyes as his breath caressed my neck. “You blew me away,” he said.

I knew something was up when Bryn corralled us into the studio during his after-party. He deflected at least five girls on the way there.

“Hurry up and spill,” Veta said after we all piled in. “Zia was actually talking—
to me
. Mostly about how much Jasmine rocked.” She bumped her shoulder into mine, grinning. “But I’ll take it.”

“Shut up and I will!” Bryn said.

“Fine—jeez. I—”

“Veta,” Bryn growled through his teeth.

“Shhhh,” Felix joined in.

Sean and I exchanged a smirk.

Bryn clapped his hands together like an excited child. “So, I just got done talking to Ajay.”

Veta’s eyes widened. “And?”

My heart started to thud—it had to be good news, right?

“We got the gig,” Bryn announced, his lips stretching into a huge grin. “We’re fucking going on tour!”

Felix jumped up and down, covering his mouth. “Will we get our own bus?”

Bryn rolled his eyes. “No, Felix.”

Veta threw her arms around me and squealed into my ear. Good thing I was mostly deaf from the show. “Ah, easy,” I said, patting her back. Not that I wasn’t completely stoked about the tour. I was. As long as I could avoid Nile as much as possible. Plus, tonight still hadn’t hit me yet. I was walking around in a daze, the kind with tinnitus.

“Okay, so—Jasmine,” Bryn said. “We need to record your guitar parts right away—like, this week.”

“No problem,” I said, pulling away from Veta.

“And we’ve got a shitload of things to do—so much that I can’t even think of it all.” Bryn rubbed his temples. “But for now, let’s just party.”

Veta gave him a salute. “Yes, sir.”

We headed out, weaving our way through people standing in the backyard. Some of them said hello and gave us approving nods. I didn’t really want to go inside, though. A few of the locals were starting to warm up to me, but most still seemed wary. Like I had to prove myself a little longer before they would give me more than a polite smile.

I broke away from the others and headed across the street, toward the ocean. The moonlit sea churned and hissed, drawing me to that benchlike rock. I settled in and listened to the calls of sea lions and the grinding industrial beat filtering from the house. It was oddly comforting.

I’d just closed my eyes when I heard footsteps climbing the rocks behind me. Sean. I sighed, pretending to be annoyed. But part of me hoped he’d end up out here. A tiny, tiny part.

“You’re on my rock again,” he said.

“Yep—wanted some alone time.”

“That’s too bad.” He plopped something heavy on the rock next to me. “I brought your acoustic out, hoping I could cash in on your promise.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Sean had his hands shoved into the pockets of his black cords. He was eyeing the ground, as if he expected me to tell him to get lost.

I moved over and patted the space next to me. “Sit.”

He slid in a little too close. I had the urge to lean into him and move away at the same time.

“So, hey,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, a smile stretching across my face. “Hi.”

We sat in silence for a few moments. The stars were out in droves tonight, casting a halo around Sean’s profile. Even the barbell through his eyebrow was lit up like a Christmas light.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve missed you.” There. I said it.

“I’ve missed you too.” He looked down at his hands again. “I finished that sketch…”

“Yeah? Can’t wait to see it.”

“You will—after I paint it.”

My eyebrows rose. “You paint too?”

He grinned. “Yeah, a little.”

I shook my head. “What can’t Sean Ramirez do?”

“A lot of things.”

“Like?”

A smile twitched at his lips. “Oh, I don’t know—spellbind an entire audience with a solo and make it look effortless.”

“Oh, please. Don’t fish for compliments. You know you’re good.”

He nudged me. “Not like you.”

Heat crawled up my neck, and I laced my fingers together. Taking compliments still wasn’t my forte. “So, how’s Amy?” And neither was changing the subject, apparently.

He exhaled a laugh. “Um…”

“Sorry—it just kind of came out.”

“It’s okay.” He touched my knee. “She’s good, I guess. We haven’t talked much since I told her there wasn’t a chance in hell we were getting back together.”

“Oh, when did you—”

“Last weekend—the night you went to Nile’s.”

“Ah.” My mind struggled for something to say. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“I’m not.” He looked out toward the water. “I called Teddy yesterday. Let him have it. He told me he’s had a thing for Amy since high school.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“I don’t know the guy, but from what I’ve seen, he really does seem to feel bad.”

“That’s what he says. But it’s kind of hard to trust someone after that.”

I nodded. “I know.”

He looked over at me. “Have you talked to your dad?”

“He called a couple of days ago. Same old stuff.” I deepened my voice. “
Have you changed your mind yet? It’s not too late.
”

Sean chuckled.

“But he’s agreed to let me get my bed and other stuff—if I can find a way to get it down here.”

“No problem. We’ll take the van.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Maybe check out some bands at Whiskey Hill while we’re there.”

“Har, har.”

His fingers ran through a lock of my hair. “Couldn’t resist.”

“You never can.” I sucked on my lower lip. “I wish we could go back. Not that I regret what we did. It was…” I let a smile slip. “Kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” He wrinkled his nose. “Ouch.”

“You know what I mean.”