Amy began to jump on my bed, and I reminded myself to check it for Skittles before climbing in later.
“You don’t have to cook tonight. The boys are taking us out. Their friends’ band is playing, and they wanted to go check them out. Hurry up and get your ass downstairs to practice so we can get out of here,” Amy ordered, pointing toward the door with her half-empty bag of candy.
“I'm doing your hair and makeup tonight. So, just brush it out and let it air-dry while you're downstairs,” Jessie said when Amy stopped to take a breath.
I nodded as I went to grab my brush, but leaving both doors open so we could talk.
“Where's the band playing?” I asked working on a particularly painful tangle.
“La Torta. It’s a Mexican restaurant with an outdoor stage.” Jessie answered as she lounged across my bed.
“I’ve heard good things about their chimichangas,” I responded back.
“That’s what she said,” Jet responded, coming upstairs. “I was sent up here to check on your progress, Faith,” Jet said, walking into my bedroom and jumping on Amy, grabbing the rest of her candy.
“Hey, that was the last of it,” she whined.
“Sorry, Candy.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
Amy took advantage and pulled him down on top of her.
“Hey, not on my bed,” I yelled, pulling Jet off a smiling Amy.
“This bed needs some love, Faith. Later, Candy. Love you,” he said, winking at her as we left for practice.
"Love you more," Amy screamed as he walked down the stairs.
With the tension dissolved between Kill and I, we were able to focus on the songs and received D’s approval quickly, making practice less stressful. Once dismissed, I ran upstairs to give my body over to Jessie so she could work her magic.
Jessie allowed me to stay in what I was wearing, since we weren’t going anywhere fancy. Amy told me I had the rocker-chic look down. When I’d been brushed and made-up to Jessie’s standards, we went downstairs where the boys were laughing at some TV show.
Van whistled at us before he wrapped his arms around Jessie’s waist and kissed her soundly. “We can stay home if you want,” he growled into her ear, loud enough for all of us to hear.
“Nope, she needs to see her handiwork in action tonight. I didn’t let her torture me with curling irons and lip gloss just so she could stay home and have fun. So, come on, Casanova.” I yanked Van away from Jessie.
The boys laughed at Van’s expression as he pouted all the way to the Highlander. We had to push Jet and Amy out the door, while they assaulted each other with their tongues.
The Houndmounds, the band we went to listen to, were pretty good. They weren’t up to the same caliber as the JackholeS, though. The front man, Dirk, entertained the crowd and was able to keep the energy up by running around the stage. Kill gave me some insight into the band while they sang a grungy cover of some 80's pop song. He explained the band met in high school and had been trying to break into the music business ever since.
The portions at La Torta were huge, and I ended up giving half of my chimichanga to Kill, which he happily devoured. Poor Amy ordered queso, but the chef must have been on a jalapeno kick. It was so hot, none of us could tolerate a single bite. In the end, Amy just snatched one of Jessie's tacos off of her plate.
When the band finished their set, they came over to our table to say hi to the boys. Kill introduced us to them. The drummer, Fang, took interest in me almost immediately. His dark eyes lit up when they landed on my cleavage. He was long and lanky, the direct opposite of Van. I wondered how his skinny arms were able to keep up with the beat.
When they were offstage, Fang seemed to adopt his cousin, Dirk’s, charisma. Fang became boisterous while Dirk settled down and waved the waitress over to order a beer. I'd admit Fang wasn’t bad looking; he just wasn’t Kill. In fact, the rest of the band wasn’t bad looking, but Kill had ruined me for anyone else.
I watched Kill’s jaw tick when Fang finagled his way next to me at the table. At one point, I worried his teeth would break when Fang asked me what type of music I liked.
"I like all music, but I love rock," I answered, removing my eyes from Kill as he destroyed his molars.
"Wait; are you the chick who sings with them?" Fang asked.
"She is," Amy answered for me, bouncing up and down.
Fangs eyes grew wide as he conducted a slower perusal of my body.
“Fang, get off her,” D said from the other side of the table.
“Sorry D,” Fang said, sitting up but not moving completely away. “I didn’t realize she had a keeper.”