Page 13 of Just Wait

I can play guitar and occasionally embarrass myself on the drums, but that’s about it, outside of what I learned from my high school piano lessons. However, I’m familiar enough with the notes and chord progressions that I can give them a basic piece to work on and improve. It’s an amalgamation of all of us coming together to make the final product.

“My boyfriend is Theo from Tangled Desires,” I say, finally locating my voice.

“No shit?” His head bobs, and a bright smile breaks out on his face.

Damn.

Those are a lot of straight, white teeth.

I bet he had braces.

My parents never had money for that kind of thing. Two of my teeth slightly overlap on the bottom, and I’m still self-conscious about it to this day. It’s hardly noticeable unless I’m smiling or someone is staring directly at my mouth, but I always notice when people have really nice teeth.

“Is that one of theirs?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before, and I’ve listened in on pretty much their entire set.”

“I was just messing around.” I grab my bottle of water, phone, and notebook off the table, preparing to escape. “It’s not anything.”

At least not yet.

And it might never be.

Some pieces are like that. No matter how much I tinker and try to force it to work, it just doesn’t come together.

“I don’t know about that. I was intrigued,” he says from behind me.

“Thanks.” I spin around with my arms now full of my stuff, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way.”

“We’ve got like ten minutes before the rest of the band gets here. Want me to play with you?” he offers, shoving his tattooed hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “If you play it one more time, I can pick it up.”

I blink as my brain short-circuits.

Did Malcolm of Liminal offer to play guitar with me? I’m fairly sure that’s what happened, but also positive that would never go down in my life.

Maybe I’m hallucinating?

I’m still way too hungover to deal with this. I need some water and electrolytes. That must be why nothing makes sense.

“I gotta go,” I say, my head bobbing awkwardly as I spin around to head toward the exit.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he calls after me.

“Lumen.”

“Lumen. Huh. That’s unique. I definitely won’t forget it.” He chuckles. “I’m Malcolm, by the way, but you can call me Mal.”

“See ya around, Mal,” I toss over my shoulder as I hit the door to exit the practice room.

Does he truly believe there’s anyone in this building who doesn’t know who he is? He must be messing with me because I pointed out that I knew he was a member of Liminal.

Being on the road with rock stars is so foreign. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.

I get smart and grab my own lunch on the way back to the bus.

No one outside of Remmy is around as I drop my stuff and take a seat on the couch in the living room.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa and dropping it over my lap as I kick out of my shoes.

“Not a clue,” Remmy says, shrugging. “How did your practice go?”