Band X

Chapter 10: Wet Underbelly

We all arrive at Isabelle's house at the same time Friday night. Eli gives me a laid back "What's up?" and Thomas just smiles at me. I want to look away and pretend I don't see him but, at the same time, I don't. I'll have to get used to interacting with him if we're going to hang out tomorrow night.

Hang out. What does that even mean? Is it going to just be us, one on one, will there be other people there? What's really going on? Why doesn't he just tell me? The uncertainty of it all is making my anxiety levels shoot through the roof. I'd really like it if he just told me the specifics right this very minute but that's obviously not going to happen.

On one hand, I think I'd like it just to be the two of us. On the other, the thought of being alone with this boy, this boy who plays the bass, has incredible dark hair, and makes my face feel hot when I look at him or even think about him, is so terrifying that I feel light headed like I'm going to pass out. I can't do that to the band. Again. The band comes first because I really, really want to continue to be a part of it.

My near constant flow of conflicting thoughts reminds me of the stories my mom tells me all the time about her favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. She's a huge fan, especially of Stevie Nicks. The band is infamous for having lots of crazy relationships among the members, especially Stevie and Lindsey Buckingham. I really don't listen closely to most of her stories but one keeps running through my mind now that I'm facing the role of lead singer of our band.

Stevie said that when she and Lindsey broke up they had to always put Fleetwood Mac first, even when they couldn't stand to be on stage together. So when we reach that level of superstardom and have millions of screaming fans dying to come to our concerts I'll bang my tambourine and twirl around the stage no matter if Thomas and I are still together or not. Or something like that. It might sound ridiculous to compare myself to a huge star like Stevie Nicks but for the first time I'm starting to think it might happen someday.

But band or no band, I'd also like to know what it's like to have a boyfriend, or at least go on one date. Even if it doesn't go anywhere I can say that I went on that one date. If it's awful, I can laugh about it later. Much, much later after I've cried for a few weeks. If we have fun but decide just to be friends, then we'll go on to greatness as bandmates. I hope. I mean I really, really hope that happens. I know it's not realistic because there are so many musicians out there who want the same thing as we do. And I'm sure that each of those musicians even have names for their bands, which we do not.

I close my eyes and stand still in Isabelle's front hallway, willing my mind to just stop. This has always been a problem for me. My brain moves faster than my mouth and the never-ending whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and feelings usually overwhelm me. The only thing that helps me focus is forcing my eyes shut until they fade away. Usually, though, I'm alone in my room with my pillow over my head so closing my eyes isn't a weird thing to do. When you do it while surrounded by friends in someone else's house, however, people tend to notice and stare at you.

And that's what I see when I slowly open my eyes. Isabelle has joined the guys and they're all standing in a circle around me. I laugh to try to make a joke out of my weirdness but it comes out like a sharp bark.

"You OK?" Isabelle's dark eyes are glittering and she starts laughing at me. Thomas and Eli join her until I'm surrounded. They're mocking me and flames of embarrassment begin to spread from my neck up the sides of my face. Just when I'm ready to bolt out the front door, leap into my mom's car, and speed away Isabelle throws her arm around me and pulls me out to the back porch.

"You're so weird!" She squeals and hugs me to her side. The guys follow us and pretty soon I'm laughing along with them as we take our places on the stage. It dawns on me that they're laughing with me not at me.