The Complete Rockstar Series, Page 3

  “Oi! Where are you going?” I turn and see Dax staring at me with a look that says he thinks I’ve gone completely mental.

  Annoyed, I tilt my neck around him to see if Ellie is out of sight yet. Thank God, she’s still outside talking to another girl.

  “You’re a twisted fuck,” Dax laughs, following my line of sight and spotting Ellie. “How many days are you going to stalk her, mate? Better yet, how many girls have you turned down since meeting her even though you haven’t gotten in her knickers?”

  “Shut it!” I yank my arm away from Dax’s tight grip and frown. I’ve turned down a lot of girls. Girls that I once found attractive, I’m suddenly finding pushy and annoying. I hadn’t realized he noticed.

  “Well, make it quick. We have to practice with your fucked up hand to get ready for tomorrow. Don’t forget, our usual place at six.” Dax whirls around and leaps down the front steps of the school, laughing until he’s out of earshot.

  When I get to my crap flat an hour later, I dump my stuff on the mattress in my room and grab my guitar and notebook. Ellie hung out in front of the school talking to that girl for nearly twenty minutes before she started for home, so now I’m going to be late to practice and Dax is going to kill me.

  “You’re la-aate!” a voice sings out from the open basement window of an abandoned business near Dax’s flat.

  “Shut your gob,” I toss back as I slither through the grimy opening and drop to the floor, turning to tug my battered guitar case through the hole.

  Dax doesn’t answer. Instead, he strums his guitar, humming along wordlessly to some random tune he plucks out off the top of his head. This is where Dax and I fit together perfectly, songwriting. We both have this weird ability to complete each other’s thoughts. I’ll start a melody. He’ll bring it somewhere I’m not expecting. He’ll think up a few lyrics, and I’ll finish them perfectly. It always comes out brilliant in the end.

  I pull out the beat up old acoustic guitar that I bought second hand doing odd jobs here and there for my older brother, Danny. Jobs I’d rather not think about, except every time I run my calloused fingers over the strings it reminds me of how fucked up my family is.

  “Does it hurt?” Dax has stopped playing to watch me carefully, a concerned look on his face.

  “Of course it fucking hurts, but I’m not going to let it stop me. Let’s do this.”

  We play for hours as I jot down the melodies and lyrics that we come up with in my notebook, erasing and fine-tuning until we’re satisfied. My stupid hand is throbbing and protesting the repetitive movements as it skims over the neck of the guitar, creating the only thing that brings me happiness in this pitiful excuse for a life.

  The only thing until I met the gorgeous Ellie Palmer.

  4

  Ellie

  Adam and I haven’t said a single word to each other since he beat up Callum three weeks ago. At first, it was too embarrassing to face him after letting myself get into that situation. Then, when he didn’t say anything about it, I decided it must be because I foolishly kissed him, and he didn’t want to lead me on. I mean, clearly, he’s not interested.

  He’s so good looking that he can have any girl in the school. I mean, I’ve seen girls approaching him and heard the gossip. He probably has had every girl in the school. Except me, and that’s what hurts the most, the outright lack of interest on his part.

  Would I allow myself to be one of his conquests? I’m not sure. Certainly he’s used to girls with more experience than me, which is none. But getting to be that close to him, kissing and touching, well, it has me seriously considering it even though the idea is just mental.

  It’s been difficult, making a conscious decision to not stare at him every chance I get even though my body seems to know where he is at all times. It practically vibrates whenever he’s nearby, like there’s an electric charge between us. That’s stupid though, I’m sure he’s already forgotten about the idiot girl who walks through an abandoned lot with a boy she doesn’t know.

  “Ellie!” I turn from my open locker to find my new best friend Kate barreling down the hall towards me, fully kitted out in her footy uniform, cleats and all.

  “What? Why are you running?” I take in her disheveled appearance, her cheeks red and her breathing rapid and strained.

  Kate has been my best, and really my only friend since starting at this school. Tall and athletic, with shoulder-length brown hair, she has the unfortunate fate of living in the same shoddy building as me. She’s lucky though. Not only does our school have one of the only girl’s football teams in the area, but she’s so talented that she’ll most likely get a very rare scholarship to play football for an American university. That means no more crappy council flat for her after this year.

  She also tends to be a bit on the dramatic side.

  “Good, you haven’t left yet,” she huffs, her chest heaving from the exertion.

  I eye her suspiciously, “Aren’t you supposed to be a top athlete? Why are you all out of breath?”

  Kate laughs, her high ponytail swinging behind her, brightening the dingy hallway enough to make me forget how dreadful it is here. “I ran all the way from the outdoor football pitch. I’m supposed to be at practice, but I wanted to catch you first. A few girls on the team were talking and said they’re going out tonight to see a new band that they heard is pretty hot. Come with us.” She smiles hopefully, waiting for my response.

  “Awww, c’mon Kate. You know I’m not much for socializing.” Especially since I’m too afraid to leave my flat for anything but school, and never after dark. Not after what happened in that yard.

  It feels as if Callum is just waiting for the right moment to attack me again, like a predator stalking its prey. He’s watching for a weak moment to get his revenge for the broken nose and ribs that Adam gave him and the complete beat down that Ryan got from Dax. Honestly, I think the only reason they’ve left me alone so far is to make me a nervous wreck from the anticipation.

  “Don’t start with the whinging, Ellie. I’ll see you at eight and we’ll go together with all the girls. It’ll be fun!” Before I can protest, Kate spins on her heel and leaves me standing in front of my locker with my mouth hanging open.

  Just great.

  * * *

  “Oh my God, pick one, Ellie! It’s not a fashion show, it’s a seedy pub. You know, beer on the floor, greasy finger foods, drunk people everywhere. You could wear a ratty shirt and trousers and no one would care.” Kate is sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for me to figure out what to wear.

  I shoot daggers at her. “No one will care what I wear, huh? Then maybe I don’t have to go,” I sniff as I chew on my tattered thumbnail.

  Her expression goes from impatient to soft in a heartbeat. “You know what I mean. It’s going to be dark in there. You’re absolutely gorgeous no matter what, so just throw something on. The girls aren’t going to wait forever for us.”

  Standing, she grabs a silver shirt and a pair of tight, dark wash jeans off of the bed and throws them in my direction. “Here, wear this. It’s perfect.”

  I catch the clothes and sigh, pulling them on and straightening them out until they fit correctly. “Fine.” Pouting, I check my hair one last time in the tiny mirror on the door of my wardrobe before shoving my feet into a pair of shoes. “Let’s go.”

  As we leave the building and start the long walk to the tube station, I wonder why the hell I agreed to this.

  * * *

  “This is the place?” I ask Kate, my nose wrinkled up in disgust. We’ve managed to get inside after waiting in a pretty long queue. One of Kate’s teammates brought us some pints.

  Kate slides me a frustrated glare. “Don’t judge, El. The DK is one of the best pubs to catch a live act. They have all the great bands and loads of them end up huge someday.”

  “I’ve heard that they’re gorgeous,” an exotic looking raven-haired girl named Tasha says. “Maybe one of us can manage to chat one up.” She giggles rid
iculously and accepts one of the beers from the girl whose name I can’t remember.

  “If anyone’s going to get off with a sexy band member, it’s going to be me,” the unnamed girl says. She passes out pints to everyone and tosses her straight brown hair.

  Kate gapes at her as does Tasha. “Don’t be such a bitch, Willa,” Kate says with a scowl. “There’s no calling dibs on men, we’ve established that a long time ago.”

  Willa frowns, drinking her beer and flicking her green gaze around the room. “I’ll be right back ladies. I see someone I know.” She throws her shoulders back and sticks her nose in the air as she makes her way through the mob.

  “Christ, Kate. Why’d we invite her again? She’s irritating enough as a teammate and even worse as a friend,” says Tasha.

  Kate shrugs. “She overheard us talking about it. Hey!” she calls out, waving towards the door. “There’s the rest of the girls. Let’s get them and grab a good spot by the stage, we don’t want to miss anything.”

  “Sure.” I feel a little out of place. Tasha’s nice and everything, but I don’t know these girls and they all know each other really well. My knowledge of football is nonexistent so I don’t have a lot in common with them.

  I’m starting to think I should just go home when the lights in the audience dim and the stage is lit up by a couple of bright spotlights. Kate grips my arm and squeals, “It’s time! This is going to be so fun!” She’s bouncing up and down with all of the excitement that a normal teenager should have.

  I sigh, it’s too late to disappear. May as well try to have a good time. I take a giant swig of my drink and watch the stage.

  5

  Adam

  “Okay boys, you go on in five, so make sure you’re ready.” George, the lanky owner of the Drunken Kitten, a decent pub just outside the city proper, pokes his head into the room we’re waiting in to let us know it’s almost time.

  Dax and I were lucky to get this gig. The DK is a popular hangout for young people, being close to several universities and located amongst the trendier spots on this side of town. I almost blew the audition with my fucked up hand, but George saw our potential and luckily, believed me when I said I’d be able to play by tonight.

  “Ready?” Dax stares at me as he cracks his neck and strums a few quick chords.

  I breathe in and out in a pathetic attempt to control my nerves. Dax and I are both guitarists. We play an all-acoustic set of different songs, new, old, and some of our own originals. I sing lead, he sings backup. I anticipated a lot of different problems tonight, but me being nervous wasn’t one of them.

  “Yep. Ready as I’ll ever be.” This is our first paying gig. A real paying job, for actual money. Money not earned illegally by working for my brother, running his drugs for him, and it feels bloody fantastic.

  Quickly, I strum through my practice chords and nod, “I’m good.”

  Dax grins and holds out his huge, scarred fist. I put mine up and bump it to his. “We’re gonna kill this, Reynolds.” His confidence knows no bounds. Must be nice.

  George comes into the tiny room where we’re waiting and smiles. “Full house out there gentlemen, let’s do this.”

  He motions for us to follow him to the small stage at one end of the dark pub. As George chats up the crowd, I let my eyes scan the room. George wasn’t lying, there’s loads of people here tonight.

  Shit, Reynolds. Don’t be a big girl’s blouse and just man the fuck up. Dax shoves his elbow into me, pushing me toward the stage. “Go, idiot! They’re waiting,” he whispers.

  I snap to my senses and hop up onto the wooden platform, walking over to the microphone. I’ve always been good at being the charming, likeable guy. I can wear it whenever I want. It’s the product of having a shitty home life, creating a personality to hide behind. Hell, maybe I am the charming, likeable guy. Fuck if I know who I’m supposed to be after all these years of pretending everything is okay when my life is actually complete crap.

  The crowd applauds as we step up to our individual microphones. The loud noise lessens and I hear our names being screamed by a group of girls off to the side. Turning to give them one of my best wicked smiles, I make eye contact with one of them and freeze.

  It’s Ellie. Ellie Palmer. The same Ellie Palmer that I’ve been obsessing over for the last three weeks. The girl that I traded my soul for in order to keep her safe. My heart is hammering in my chest and it feels as if the breath has just whooshed out of my lungs, leaving me speechless. She’s just as shocked to see me as I am to see her.

  “Our first song is one you’ll recognize,” Dax says, his voice ringing clear over the speakers as the crowd quiets down.

  Crap. As the lead singer, I’m supposed to introduce the songs. I to see Dax giving me an incredulous look. All I can do is shrug stupidly and start playing.

  We breeze through our set, starting with popular ones like the Eric Clapton version of I Shot the Sheriff, and closing with the Beatles’ Let It Be with a few of our own songs in between. I’m pretty sure the crowd liked our music, but I was too busy focusing on Ellie to notice much else. Every time I looked her way, she was staring directly at me, either unashamed at being noticed or too caught up in her thoughts to realize she was doing it. I don’t care which it is, just the fact that she’s acknowledging my existence, even without meaning to, is enough to make my heart falter in an unfamiliar yet not unpleasant way.

  “That was brilliant!” Dax exclaims as he thumps my back once we’re backstage. “Such a fucking rush!”

  “Yeah, it was,” I agree. I take off my guitar and pack it up in its case, stretching out my fingers. I’d been so wrapped up in Ellie that I hadn’t noticed the throbbing pain in my hand until now.

  “Boys, that was abso-fuckin-lutely fantastic!” George says, barging into the room with a pint for each of us. Sweaty and hot, I accept the beer gratefully and chug down half of it. “So, you want to be regulars, on Friday nights?”

  Dax and I freeze in place and exchange shocked looks. “You mean, every Friday night? Like a permanent thing?” I ask.

  George pats my shoulder, “Of course like a permanent thing. They fucking loved you two.” His eyes dart from me to Dax, waiting for an answer. Before either of us can speak, he continues. “Have you ever thought of bringing in another guitarist and a drummer? Because my nephew is here with my sister for the school year. He’s American, and he and his mate have been looking for a few guys to play with. You’d be brilliant together.”

  I shoot Dax a concerned stare, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. I don’t want to get stuck with George’s halfwit nephew for a band mate.

  “Uhhh, we hadn’t really thought about it, George. To be honest, we’ve only just started seriously playing in the last year or so,” I tell him truthfully. Dax and I have both had guitars since we were ten, but it’s only recently that we started putting together actual songs and not just screwing around.

  “No worries, I’ll have them stop by next Friday to see your show. You’ll love them!” George pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket and hands us each a large amount. “Here, you did great. See you next week!” He spins and disappears back into the pub.

  “Lovely,” Dax hisses, “Now we get to babysit George’s nephew?”

  I can’t worry about new band mates or George’s prat nephew. I’m too distracted by the thought of Ellie Palmer and whether or not she would be willing to kiss me again.

  6

  Ellie

  “You can do this, Ellie,” I mutter as I walk toward my first period class.

  I’m nervous to see Adam after I bailed Friday night at the DK. I told Kate my stomach hurt and convinced her to leave her friends and go home with me as soon as Adam and Dax’s set finished. That way, I wouldn’t have to face him at the pub. After the intense looks we had been exchanging all night, I was too afraid to find out what exactly, they meant.

  Now, it’s Monday morning at eight, and I have no choice but to see Adam. This time, without the com
forting buffer of alcohol, a crowd of people, and dim lighting. Wow, am I ever stupid. I should have just gotten it over with at the pub on Friday night, because facing him today under the harsh fluorescents and stares of other students is going to be awful.

  Taking a deep breath, I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt, shoulder my bag and walk into the room. Keeping my eyes down, I let them flick up briefly as I approach my desk. When I see that Adam’s seat is empty, I’m simultaneously relieved and dismayed at the same time. I’ve only known him a few weeks, and haven’t spoken to him since that dreadful day. How is it that I’m so affected by him?

  I drop into my chair and pull my brows together in confusion. From my observations over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that he’s usually here by now. I waited until the last possible second to enter the classroom to make sure he would be here first. Thankfully, Callum and Ryan don’t say a word to me, or even acknowledge my presence. Strangely enough, they’ve been leaving me alone, but I’m afraid of what might happen today without Adam next to me.

  The bell rings and I resign myself to a long day complete with a nervous stomach, crushing disappointment, and no sign of Adam. Somehow I trudge through my classes, hardly able to concentrate on anything my teachers say. Kate manages to get a laugh out of me at lunch, but that’s about the extent of my happiness.

  “Ellie! Wait up!” I’m about to head home when I hear a deep male voice shouting my name. My body stiffens in fear as the heavy footsteps approach from behind.

  Grabbing my overloaded book bag tight in my fists, ready to swing at an attacker if necessary, I spin around. “Dax! Bloody hell, you scared me!” I clutch my chest to calm my racing heart.

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? Oh shit, Ellie. I’m sorry.” Dax’s face and neck turn red with embarrassment when he realizes that he frightened me.