Bullet

chapter Eighteen



“GODDAMMIT. WHAT THE f*ck are you doing, Nick?” Ethan was pissed. He and Nick had been going back and forth for the last hour, bickering over stupid stuff. Ethan had accused Nick of doing something funky with the percussion. I couldn’t understand his exact issue, so I just shut my mouth. But Ethan really jumped on him this time.

I’d been giving it my all, but I was starting to worry. We sucked. We totally sucked. I knew they had to be already regretting asking me aboard. While Ethan and Nick were settling their shit, Brad stood by me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing a great job, Val, but don’t sing at top capacity. You need to save your voice for tonight. No need to impress us. Just do what you gotta do to feel comfortable, and drink lots of water.”

I took the hint and grabbed my bottle of water off the floor and had another swig while Ethan told Nick he was f*cking up the song. I still wasn’t convinced that I was doing a great job, but I tried to not worry. Brad said, “Shut the f*ck up, guys. Work through it. Val wants to go through the set twice, and we’re never gonna get it done if you keep this shit up.” Ethan wasn’t budging, though. He was over at the drum kit hovering, and Nick was standing too, puffing out his chest. Nick might have been a quiet guy, but he wasn’t backing down from Ethan’s challenge.

Brad walked over and pulled Ethan away. He wasn’t forceful or anything, and I wasn’t really sure how he’d managed it, but he got Ethan to back off. Before Ethan had completely returned to position, Brad said, “This practice isn’t for you guys. It’s for Val. Let’s give her what she needs.”

We did get through the set once, but then I was ready to cry. We sounded awful. Brad, seeming to be a natural-born leader, told us we needed a break. We could all go out for lunch, or we could take a break apart. If we needed a little time away from each other, that was fine, but we had to be ready to work together…at least tonight, if nothing else.

Brad offered to buy, so all the guys decided to go together. I’d just about had all the testosterone I could stand, but I thought it was important that I be with them, especially if we were to bond as a band. None of the guys seemed to have a beef with me; they just couldn’t get along amongst themselves. And maybe that was just preshow tension. I hoped so. My dreams of enjoying myself this summer were fast fading. No way could I stand this kind of behavior for that long.

But the second rehearsal was much better. I wasn’t sure why, but Ethan seemed a lot mellower. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought maybe he had a little chemical help with calming down. Whatever the case, after we finished, we packed up the van. Brad said there were sometimes places to get ready at the venues and sometimes not. He said if I planned on wearing something else, I might want to dress before we left, so I did. I figured I could do my makeup on the way. I pulled out of my bag what I thought would be the perfect outfit for my first night on stage…tight faux leather pants (something I already owned) and a fitted red super-short sleeved t-shirt. I’d seen a woman in a band wearing one that she’d cut horizontally across the back in about one or two centimeter strips, and I think it was to show off all the tattoos on her back. I just thought it was a cool grungy look. So I had done something similar, only I ripped it and made some holes in it, but mostly on the back. I put a few smaller holes around the tummy area in front. Yeah, I had no tats, but I hoped it looked cool. I left my hair down. I’d also put on a pair of big black Dr. Martens boots I’d had for a few years. They were perfect, and I’d worn them to many a metal concert, so why not onstage too?

The guys liked my look. I knew I’d match them, having seen them onstage before. But I wasn’t ready for their reactions. “Val, you look great.” That was Nick’s response. His was more subdued than the rest.

Zane: “God, you look hot.”

Brad: “Nice…I like the skin.” Yeah…he’d already seen most of that.

Ethan: “We gonna have to beat the guys off with a stick?” And he didn’t seem like he was joking about that or happy either. Like I cared.

Ethan planned to ride shotgun to Denver, but Brad told him quite emphatically that I was to ride next to him. “That seat belongs to our muse.” I’d heard them call me that before, but I couldn’t remember when. And Ethan was fuming about my sitting up front again. Still, though, I could tell he was low key, and I was convinced he’d had a little pharmaceutical help with that. I planned to ask one of the guys later—maybe even the next day—if they knew what was going on with him.

On the trip there, we tried to laugh and joke, but I was nervous. Brad turned up the music off and on, I think to try to get my mind off it. But it didn’t help. It was even worse feeling like our rehearsals had stunk.

Brad stopped in Colorado Springs at Burger King and urged us to get something to eat. I told him I was too nervous.

“Val…if you don’t eat, you’re not gonna have the energy you need. Eat something.” So I got one of their chicken sandwiches and fries and managed to eat half before I decided I was done.

And the closer we got to Denver, the more nervous I got. I can barely remember unpacking the van and setting up. We were slated as the first act of the evening, and I don’t know if that helped or not. Knowing I could get it over with sooner was good, but I don’t know that I’d ever been that nervous about anything in my entire life. Various limbs on my body were either numb or tingly due to an overdose of adrenaline.

Once we were set up, all the guys were checking their instruments. I stood off stage, not ready to put myself out there. We still had fifteen minutes before show time, and the place was filling up. It made the big bar in Winchester look like a bathroom.

I tried pacing but didn’t know that it helped either, so I just stood with my back against the wall near the stairs. Ethan started walking my way, still wearing his guitar strapped over his body. He stopped in front of me. Before he said anything, I examined his eyes. I thought maybe now he was sober, but I couldn’t be sure. He seemed lucid. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah…” Really, though, I wasn’t too sure.

With one smooth motion, he pushed his guitar so that the strap carried it around to hang on his back, and then he put his hands around my waist. “You’ll do fine, Val.” And then he kissed me. At first, I was taken aback and unsure, but then I gave in. In the short time we’d dated—and even more recently—Ethan had never kissed me like this. His kisses, while thrilling, had never been full of unbridled passion and promise. But this one was. This kiss was deep and hard, and he held nothing back, and it completely took me out of the moment. One second I was freaking out about the upcoming performance and the next I was transported. So when he stopped, it took me a moment to open my eyes and let myself come back to the present.

But he wasn’t done. I don’t know if it was because of the look in my eyes or the expression on my entire face, the one of having had my breath taken away, but he kissed me again then and nearly knocked me down. I might have been in shock the first time and frozen, but the second time I was thawed and moving. I wound my fingers into the hair at his temples and let him have me. For the first time since he’d walked away from me, I felt myself at his mercy again. And just like that, he was completely forgiven and back in my good graces. I shouldn’t have made it that easy, but he just so happened to give me what I needed in that vulnerable moment, and I responded.

This time when the kiss ended, he again waited for me to open my eyes. And then Ethan was like a new person to me. Gone were all the bitter, angry feelings I’d had pent up about him over the last few months. It was as though none of that had ever happened. He said, “You gonna be okay?”

My voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah.”

He nodded and smiled and then let go of me and walked back onstage. I just watched him, and then I saw Brad looking over at me. I didn’t know if he’d seen any of it, but I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.

And then it hit me. I went straight outside and threw up what I’d eaten at dinner.

* * *

It was a blur, and to this day, I don’t remember everything about my first real show. I can remember some details, but big chunks are almost missing from my memory. That was my brain’s way of dealing with it. My voice was a little shaky on the first verse of the first song, but I let the music take over and guide me. And it did. Throw into that a frenzied crowd moshing and headbanging at my feet, and suddenly I was part of the concert too, just having a good time.

And our earlier rehearsals were no indication of how we’d perform. Suddenly, we were on; we were in sync, and we were smooth. I didn’t hear a single bad note or mistimed drum beat. To boot, it was almost like we could psychically read each other. And it was only our first show. As we walked off stage to cheers and whistles, I wondered what more time together would do for us. I still didn’t quite feel like I was a full-fledged member of the band, even though a good many of the words I’d been singing were mine. I felt like I had to grow with them; this concert was the first step. After all the stress, worry, and nerves, I was now ready for more. I wanted to see how we would evolve together. I wanted to enjoy the crowds, the feeling of the music flowing through my body as I belted out the tune. I looked forward to relishing the moment.

That night, we went to a cheap ass hotel. Brad had already explained to me that once he paid the last of the expenses (and that was usually the hotel room and he’d hold back some for gas), he’d split up what was left among the band. I went in with him and told him I had to get my own room. “That’ll double the cost, Val. We’ll make sure you have your own bed.”

The clerk said, “We can get you a cot. Then you’ll have three beds.”

I considered it. I really did. But I knew these guys would get rowdy and party, and if any of them picked up girls like they often did, I did not want to have to try to sleep through it. Then there was the sticky issue of sharing a shower and all that good stuff. So I pulled the goody-two-shoes card. “I promised my dad, Brad. My dad.”

He looked at me and sighed. “All right.”

“But I’ll pay for it. I don’t want to cut into our earnings.”

“F*ck that.” He glanced over at the clerk who just smiled. “Oh, sorry.” He looked back at me. “No way. You keep doing what you did tonight, you’ll be earning that goddamned room.” He looked back at the clerk again, this time not apologizing for cursing and said, “I guess two rooms. One a double, the other a single. Any way you can get them close to each other?”

The clerk tapped on the old computer in front of her and said, “Yeah. Next door.”

After Brad paid and we had the keys, we started walking back to the van. “At least if we’re next to each other, there’s less chance of neighbors complaining about a noisy party.”

I raised my eyebrows and kept as straight a face as I could. “That’s what you think.”

We got set up in our rooms, and the guys pulled the liquor out almost immediately, making me glad I’d insisted on my own room. There were no girls tonight (yet), but the men were going to be rowdy. I enjoyed some time with them, though, until I was too tired to stay awake anymore. But the guys assured me they were happy with their decision to bring me on board. Ethan said, “Val, Brad and I were okay on vocals, but you blow us out of the water. You’re exactly what we needed.”

Zane joined in. “Yeah, and you keep wearing shit like that, our fan base’ll grow a lot faster.”

I laughed. They weren’t used to seeing me wear stuff like that, but I didn’t think my choice of clothes would make people, even men, appreciate our music any more. It just enhanced the experience.

Had Ethan decided to get chummier with me that night—like he had earlier—I would have forced myself to stay awake longer. But I was tired and told them good night. Then they could go find girls if they needed to. I just needed my rest.

I couldn’t sleep, though. I was still on a performance high, and it would take me quite a while to fall asleep. That and the noise from my bandmates made it difficult. But when I did sleep, I was still relishing my new role, and I could barely believe my good fortune.

I finally got up around eight. I’d slept for shit and should have just gotten a cot with the guys. I doubted I would have gotten less sleep. But I jumped in the shower to get ready to head back home. If the guys needed more time to sleep (and I suspected they would, and checkout wasn’t until eleven), I would do some writing. I had a lot I needed to get on paper.

I’d gotten my makeup on but was still in just my panties and bra and had only combed out my hair when I got a text from Brad. U up?

I was surprised he was. So I texted back. Yep.

Then a knock on the door. I ran over and peeked through the peephole. It was Brad. I opened the door a crack. “Gimme a second. I need to get dressed.”

He grinned. “I could help you with that.”

“I’m sure you could.”

I closed the door and ran to my suitcase, grabbed a t-shirt and jeans and threw them on. Then I let him in. “So what’s up?”

“Jesus…those guys are trashed. They’re gonna be fun on the drive home. I need to get some breakfast and coffee and just wanted to know if you want to come with.”

“Sure.” I slipped on shoes and pulled my hair in a ponytail, and we were out the door.

We were quiet as he drove around looking for a place to eat. He had the music loud, and that was okay. Brad was the kind of person I felt comfortable around, even when we had nothing to say to each other.

He found a diner just a couple of miles from our motel. As he parked, he turned the music down and asked, “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

Within minutes, we were seated, had placed our orders, and had hot cups of coffee…just what we both needed. And I saw that as my opportunity—no better time than now to broach the subject I knew needed discussion. “Um…about last night…”

He looked at me then and shook his head. “No…Val, we don’t need to do this.”

Considering a little over a week ago, I’d almost lost my virginity to him, yes, we did. Just a few days later, and he’d seen me right back in Ethan’s arms, a slave to his best friend’s charms. I looked at him and, my voice low, said, “I’d like to.”

He looked down into the black liquid in his cup, considering my words. Without looking at me, he sighed and then said, “I knew what I was up against.” Then he lifted his eyes to mine. “I know where your heart is, and I chose to take that chance anyway.” He took another deep breath and those eyes…they bored into me with an intensity I’d rarely experienced in my short life. “I told you…I’m a patient man.” If he’d been a football player, he’d be tackling me right now, knocking the wind out of me, crushing me. But I realized what he was referring to—his promise to me months ago that he would wait for me to get over Ethan. And what if I never did? Had he thought about that?

No matter what the case, I felt as though Brad and I were becoming close friends. I trusted him more than I had anyone else in my short adult life. Brad had always been honest but caring, and I respected the hell out of him too. He was driven and motivated. I liked the other guys in the band, but when it came to accomplishing goals, Brad had it all over them.

Ethan…he was another story. Why he had such a hold over me, I couldn’t figure. But he did, and Brad had known it from the beginning. It had never been a secret from him. There was something unspoken between Brad and me…somehow we knew a lot about what each other was thinking and feeling. I didn’t know how it had happened, but it had.

But I sat there, no words rushing to my lips. What was I supposed to say? Gee, Brad…thanks for waiting for me while I pine over another man. I grabbed for my coffee cup and noticed my hand was shaking. But I wanted to say more. “Still…whether I’d expected what you saw or not…I’m sure you didn’t appreciate seeing that.”

I couldn’t read him, not right then. I saw his jaw grow tense…or maybe it was my imagination. “Doesn’t matter. It was a good reminder.”

Oh, God…I really had hurt him. Pretty badly, from the looks of it. “Hey…” I touched his hand with mine. He didn’t pull away. “You are…one of the best men I know.” And then I shut up, because anything else I’d say after that would sound f*cking lame. If he was so great, why was I shitting all over him?

If I’d known the answer to that question, I likely could have solved a good many mysteries of the ages.

* * *

It wasn’t until Brad and I were heading back to the hotel that I found a way to ask him about Ethan’s drug usage. I might have been inexperienced, but I was pretty sure Ethan was using something. I hoped Brad would know.

We were halfway back, so I knew I didn’t have much time to broach the subject. “So what’s Ethan taking, Brad? Do you know?”

“Hmm…what?” Either he hadn’t been paying attention, or he was pretending he didn’t catch my question. I repeated it.

“Come on, Brad. I’m not stupid. What’s Ethan been on lately?”

He shook his head. “You really don’t wanna know.”

“Yeah, actually, I really do.”

He sighed, pulling into the motel parking lot. He didn’t say anything, instead pulling the van back into the space where he’d parked before. After he shut off the engine, he looked at me. “I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure he’s taking Vike.”

“Vike?”

“Vicodin.”

“How do you know?”

He looked over at me, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “I don’t, Val. But I have my reasons for why I think that.”

He started to get out of the van, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Just tell me. Why?”

He took a deep breath, just looking out the window. But then he looked over at me. “A couple years ago, his mom had some in the medicine cabinet…leftovers from something, and she never used the rest of ‘em. So we both took one before going to a party. Well…we wound up not going to the party. We were wasted. It was…hard to describe. Pretty peaceful feeling. I didn’t want to do anything, just lay there, vegging, watching whatever stupid movie we were watching on TV. And then I just wanted to sleep. But Ethan…over the next year, he’d take one now and then until the whole goddamn bottle was gone.”

“So if it’s gone now, how’s he getting more?”

The look on Brad’s face told me how pathetic he thought I was. “How does anyone get illegal drugs? You think it’s that hard? All you need is the right amount of cash and a connection.”

“So…what should we do about it?”

Brad let out a puff of air, almost like a laugh, but it didn’t come off that way. “What do you think we can do about it, Val?” I just looked at him, desperate for an answer, now that Ethan’s drug use was confirmed. “We can’t do shit. He has to decide he wants to stop. You try to make him stop, he’ll just do it more. You stand back. That’s what you do. You…” He squinted his eyes and let out another breath, but he kept talking, his voice low. “You go on loving him and be there when you need to.” He pulled his keys out of the ignition and opened the car door. “Just like I always have.”

* * *

So I felt no better actually knowing the truth, and Brad had probably known that would happen. Maybe he’d tried to shield me from it. It didn’t matter, though. I needed and wanted to know, and maybe his advice was right. Maybe all I could do would be to be there to help Ethan when he was ready.

During the next week alone, I did a lot of thinking. I decided that maybe I needed to be more forward with Ethan. More than that, though, I also thought maybe I needed to take control of my future. I knew I wasn’t going to be a virgin forever, and now that something inside me was awakening, I needed to be safe. I knew, deep down, that if Nick and the girl he’d been with hadn’t interrupted Brad and me that night in the van, we probably would have wound up having sex. And that would have been stupid on my part. No protection meant, first of all, possible pregnancy. Nothing would happen with my life if I wound up being a young mother, no matter who the dad was. I knew STDs were a concern too, but that didn’t scare me as much as having an unwanted baby. So I made an appointment with the family planning agency in town and took the first step. The nurse gave me a three-month prescription of the pill and several condoms, and even though I couldn’t start the pill right away, I felt some relief at knowing I was being smart.

We had shows every weekend, and by the end of June, I felt comfortable on stage. I was enjoying being the center of attention, stirring the crowd into a frenzy. I felt like I’d started to master some screaming in addition to singing clean, and I knew the songs well. We’d started doing a little writing again too, but a lot of it was done through email, simply because it was hard for us to get together much being in different locations. We saw each other for shows, and when the guys didn’t party too much, we could get a little work done, but partying was their priority. I guessed I could understand it, but we hadn’t made it big enough to justify blowing all our money on party favors.

Ethan didn’t warm up again like he had my first night on stage. We were on speaking terms again, but our relationship—as boyfriend and girlfriend or even as just friends—hadn’t returned to normal. We’d talk now and again, but it was often strained. I was beginning to think it would never work between us and, no, I didn’t immediately go running back to Brad. He and I both knew I was “hung up” on Ethan, even if nothing was happening. Until that boy was out of my system for good, Brad was off limits. It was a now-unspoken agreement between the two of us.

By the time we got to the Thursday show in Denver, the guys weren’t willing to do a show without me. I’d suggested a couple of weeks earlier that Brad and Ethan could, for one night, resume their previous roles, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, they picked me up right after work, and we sped to Denver. After the show, they drove back to Winchester, dropped me off at home so I could get a little sleep before work on Friday, and then found a motel.

What surprised me was how that summer I’d fallen into the routine so easily, and I loved every moment I was onstage. It was magical. There was an energy that came from the audience that fueled every performance. It drove me and excited me like nothing else I’d ever done in my life. And I tried to ignore the voice in the back of my mind, the one telling me not to get used to it. I wanted to just enjoy the feeling, live in that moment.

One show near the beginning of August, we were playing in a small rural sleepy eastern Colorado town. Knowing what little I’d known about this town which shall remain nameless, I hadn’t expected anything great. But they turned out to be one of our best audiences. They loved us and the other two bands we were playing with, and I was bummed we wouldn’t be coming back.

We were staying in another rundown cheap-ass motel, just like all the other ones we’d been staying in, places with worn yellow carpeting, faded beige drapes, and plumbing that had seen better days. The guys were drinking again, and they had girls in tow. But I’d been sitting at the round brown table in the corner, and I saw Ethan put what looked like a pill in his mouth before knocking it back with a beer. That was my opportunity. I didn’t have to guess anymore. So I walked up to Ethan and asked him if we could talk outside.

He agreed, and we stepped just outside the door on the sidewalk that served as a buffer between the parking lot dirt and the rooms themselves. He seemed guarded. Maybe he already knew what I wanted to talk to him about. “What’s up?”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look in his eyes. “What are you doing, Ethan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re taking something.”

His eyes grew dark then, and I could see him shutting himself off. He narrowed his eyelids and got his face closer to mine. “And this is your business how?”

I hadn’t known what reaction to expect from him, but it certainly hadn’t been that. He was cold and closed in, already unwilling to talk. But I couldn’t just give up, not yet. “You’re my friend, Ethan, and you’re also kinda like my coworker now. What you do affects me, affects the other guys. I’m afraid of what you’re doing to yourself.”

“It’s no worse than drinking.”

“You don’t see me drinking.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t see you lecturing the other guys either.”

Well, he had a point there. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, though. I grabbed his hand. “I’m not saying I approve, but you’ve seemed to function just fine with drinking. This…stuff, though. It’s like you’re numb, Ethan. It’s like you’re not here with us. It’s like you’re far away somewhere else.”

His eyes hardened. “You ever stop to think maybe that’s the only way I can do this?”

I was at a loss. No words wanted to form on my tongue, and I heard the door open behind me. But I ignored it and decided to try a tough love approach. “That’s bullshit, Ethan. I thought you loved this…and if you’re not giving it your all, if you’re not fully here, then you’ll never reach your full potential. You’re not just letting yourself down. You’re letting us all down.”

He grabbed my arm just above my elbow. His voice was low, almost like a growl. “Listen, Val, I know you think you know me, but you don’t. I do this shit to survive, and I’m here, all right? The day I don’t perform, the day I don’t show, that’s the f*cking day you can tell me I’ve let you down. Till then…”—he let go of my arm then and started backing away—“not another goddamned word about it.”

That’s when I noticed Brad behind him. Brad wasn’t much taller than Ethan, but it was enough that I could clearly tell that was who it was. He put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder and said, “Everything okay here?”

Ethan gave him a dirty look. “Yeah. I was just leaving.”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded my head. I was pissed. “Yeah. So was I.” Apparently, Ethan wanted to self-destruct, and the rest of us be damned. I might have been naïve, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew about rock stars who’d killed themselves with drugs. And long before the point of death, they’d done stupid shit to damage their careers. How many concerts had The Doors’s Jim Morrison been late for? He’d been the first of a long line of rock artists known for letting drugs wreck their lives before they killed them, and I didn’t want Ethan to become just another rock star cliché.

For now, though, I had to let it go, so I just walked over to my room, leaving Brad standing alone. I didn’t slam my door, but I couldn’t sit down right away. I was angry at Ethan for just giving up, and I think I might have been even angrier that his friends seemed to be just letting him flush his life down the toilet while they watched.

So when I heard the knock on my door, I was really not in the mood. It was Brad, carrying two bottles of beer. I didn’t even know what to say, but I know the look on my face was not one of amusement or happiness. “What?”

He didn’t seem too amused or happy either. “Can I come in?” I didn’t say anything, just stepped back, pulling the door open further, letting him walk in. He sat at the chair up against the desk, so I sat on the edge of the bed. I still didn’t say a word. “Want a beer?” He handed the bottle to me, the neck tilted toward my hands. I shook my head. He placed the bottle on the desk and then twisted off the cap of the other bottle in his hand. “I know you want to help Ethan, Val, but what you’re doing now…he’ll just blow you off completely. He needs to realize on his own what he’s doing.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean it, Val. Don’t push him. Trust me. Doing that is a bad idea.” I sucked in a breath of air, considering arguing with him. “I don’t think he’ll overdose on it. I’ve never seen him go overboard.”

“But can he become addicted?”

His eyes looked sad then. “He probably already is.”

“And you just let him?”

“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean? I let him? Like I’m his mom, or I have any control over what he does?” I just kept staring at him. “I have my own shit to deal with, Val. I’m not the f*cking cops. That would be like me asking you why you just let him.”

At first, I wanted to tell him I’d only known Ethan for less than a year, that Brad and the other guys had known him for much longer. But then I realized Brad was right. Ethan was the only person responsible for Ethan. No one else here could control his life. Even I, with my good intentions, could only hope to reason with him. I shrugged my shoulders and made myself look at him. Then I nodded. “Fair enough.” I sighed. “But what can we do, Brad? We can’t just let him keep doing this.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?”

Well, he had me there. Ethan wasn’t far enough gone to stage an intervention, and Brad was right. Until he admitted he had a problem, there wasn’t much we could do. “I guess there’s nothing. I just feel so helpless…and lame not doing anything.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m his best friend, and you were right about one thing. I used to encourage a lot of that shit. Hell, we used to do a lot of shit together. First time I tried meth and coke were with Ethan.”

I couldn’t help that my eyes grew wide. “You’ve tried meth?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Probably. Yeah…we did stupid shit, Val. Just…I knew when to stop. And…apparently Ethan doesn’t. And…at least he’s not hooked on something like meth.” He took a long draw off his beer. “So, we gotta be here for him. We need to catch him when he falls, because he will. He’ll fall. And that’s when he’ll decide he needs to do something different.”

I felt my expression soften. “So what’s the difference between you and him? Why could you stop and he can’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he has a more addictive personality than I do. Hell, I don’t know. Seriously, Val. The man’s been through hell. You have no idea. And this is one of the things he does to cope.”

So Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he did the drugs to survive. I’d never forget that, but I wasn’t sure how I could help him…or even if I could help him. And I wanted to know what Brad knew, but I also knew Brad wouldn’t tell. He’d tell me I needed to ask Ethan, and I also knew Ethan would only tell me when he was damn good and ready and not a moment before…if ever. I nodded, letting Brad’s words sink in, that we had to just be there for Ethan. I knew he was right, and I hoped I could be strong for him.

“Offer on the beer still stand?”

Brad raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

“I know…stupid.”

He laughed. “Nah. If you’re gonna drink, this is better than a lot of other things.” He twisted off the cap and handed it to me.

I took a sip. Yuck. I’d had beer before, and I’d never been a big fan. Just not a flavor that made me want to drink more. But I’d asked for it. Brad smiled at me. He knew, just like he knew way too many of my thoughts. I didn’t know that my expression had given it away, but he knew just the same. He said, “There’s something else we should probably talk about.”

I squinted my eyes. What now? Hadn’t we covered enough tonight?

“You and me. I want you to know I respect the hell out of you, Val. Now that you’re in the band, it’s hands off. I don’t want to lose you for Fully Automatic. You’re exactly what we needed. No way am I gonna f*ck that up. So…I just wanted to assure you, in case you had any worries, that I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Part of me was crushed. I’ll admit it. Brad and I had something between us, something I couldn’t name, but it was even stronger than what I felt for Ethan, and I don’t think Ethan knew that. But he was right. We needed to maintain a professional relationship, and even at that young age, I saw the wisdom in that decision. Brad was driven, determined to see his band go as far as it possibly could, and a fling…well, that could make a mess. I knew emotions could muddy the waters, and I respected his call. I held out my hand to shake his, and the warmth and electricity in his hand reminded me those feelings were still under the surface, but I’d have to ignore them now. “I respect you too, Brad, and I trust your decisions for the direction of the band.” I didn’t even think ahead to the fact that I’d be out of the band once school started up again. I was just living in the moment, enjoying it.

But we shook on that agreement that night, based on the hope that the band could get far. And I awoke the next morning, refusing to acknowledge the dream I’d had about him. If Brad was to keep his hands to himself, I had to keep my thoughts from myself…anyway I could.