was awful at being direct.
Sean lifted his head, his pierced eyebrow crawling high. Everyone said we had the same blue eyes, except I always felt like my brother just had something in his stare that I didn't. A kind of razor steel that could cut you into pieces.
I rarely saw him look at me that way, luckily.
“Lola," he said, "I was just about to go look for you.”
“Yeah?” Shutting the door, enjoying the air-conditioning, I put my hands on two seats and swung my legs forward. I landed in front of the group with a big smile. “I was coming to see if you wanted me to do anything else before we got on the road.”
My older brother cast a look at the rest of the band, their silence suddenly uncomfortable. I wondered what I had walked in on. He said, “Did you hear about what happened last night, about the singer from Headstones and his guitarist?”
“Yeah, of course I did,” I laughed. “People won't shut up about it, but no one has anything real to say. I'm starting to think it's a big joke.” No one else was smiling; my lips quickly drifted into a thin line. “Okay, I get the feeling you're about to tell me something important. Something bad.” Shit, were the rumors true, did someone get beaten to death?
Sean pushed his thick bangs from his eyes, slumping back into the seat. “It's actually potentially good news.”
It was hard for me to pull my gaze from my brother's face. “Tell me what's going on.”
He waved at me to sit, so I dropped down on the edge of the leathery cushion diagonal from him. “Lola, Drezden kicked out Johnny Muse.”
“Kicked him out,” I repeated in disbelief. “Kicked him out of the band?” The idea blew my mind. I was glad I was already sitting. “Why would he—that's insane!”
The heavy-set drummer, Shark, flashed me a wide grin. In spite of his name, his teeth were actually nice and straight. “Right? It's crazy! I was in the place, though, I saw the whole thing! Dude went nuts, just pummeled Johnny to the ground.”
My mind conjured up an image of Drezden, of how the muscles in his arms would flex when he was screaming on stage. He looked like the type who could tear a guy's face up with ease. “Jeez,” I whispered.
Sean slid deeper into his seat, kicking Shark in the knee. “Chill, it wasn't as bad as that. I saw Johnny last night, too, before they dragged him off to keep him from throwing more bottles at folks. He was in one piece. Drezden didn't 'pummel' him. He did kick him out though, yeah.”
I folded my hands in my lap, crossing my knees. One pink and black sneaker tapped nervously in the air. “That's still insane. If Four and a Half Headstones doesn't have a guitarist, what are they going to do?”
“They're going to need to find a new one, and fast,” my brother said.
“Yeah, fast.” I smoothed my messy dark hair. The humidity had turned it into a wild mane. “Real fast. Where are they going to find a guitarist before the next show?”
No one said anything. Baffled, I raised my eyes, looking from each member to the next. Sean was smiling, it made my stomach twist. “Oh no,” I said, my back going straight as a rod. “I can't, I'm not anywhere near good enough to be in their band!”
Sean slid out of his seat, shoving Shark aside as he did so. “Lola, come on. You're the sister of the lead guitarist in Barbed Fire! I taught you everything you know.” He came to stand over me, grasping my shoulders like it'd calm me down.
I wasn't ready to be calm.
“Shit,” I said to no one. “Holy shit.” He wasn't kidding when he said he'd taught me everything I knew. The advantage to being the younger sister of a talented guitarist was you could learn a lot. The downside?
Well, we couldn't both be the lead guitarist in the same band.
I'd never get to play with Barbed Fire. The closest I'd ever come was carting their equipment onto the stage at their shows. And now my brother was trying to get me to go and try out for the guitarist in fucking Four and a Half Headstones?
“Shit,” I said again. I was saying it a lot.
Giving me one more squeeze, he patted me so roughly it shook my skull. “The auditions are going on today. I already went and