Page 46 of Bonding the Band

“Probably the time Arlo dyed a bucket of water yellow and dumped it in the pool behind me when I wasn’t paying attention. My friends called me Pee Pool Henny for two years after that.”

Clover let out a cackle. “Incredible. Your turn, Meads.”

“Oh god. Okay, in sixth grade, I had a wicked crush on our teacher, and he had a policy that if anyone was caught passing notes, they would be read at the front of the class. One of my frenemies wrote a note asking if I was still planning on asking him to marry me and to tell her what he said. She made this big dramatic show of trying to pass it to me, which of course, caught his attention. I think he might’ve been just as embarrassed as I was that day.”

Clover had heard the story before, but she laughed anyway, and Hendrix did too.

“On the bright side, he did get rid of his reading-notes-out-loud policy.”

A lot of the trip was like that, with all of us speedrunning getting to know each other. Sometimes Hendrix was hesitant to share, and then one of us went first to coax it out of him. We played driving games and stopped for drive-thru meals, where Hendrix had to hide and I had to dash inside to pee. By the halfway point, when he was finally relaxing, Clover took a chance and put on some Hard Knot Life songs.

I didn’t know any of the lyrics, but hearing his voice echo behind me as he sang along had goose bumps dancing across my skin.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you actually sound that good in person,” Clover said when the song finished.

“I’ve gotten better.” His cheeks were hot pink. “Took a lot of training.”

I turned in my seat to look at him when there was nothing but highway in front of us. “I assume the answer is yes, since you’re still doing it, but do you actually like being a rock star? It seems both fun and really stressful.”

Hendrix lapsed into silence for a few seconds before sighing. “I like most of it. The guys are the best part, and seeing the fans happy never gets old.”

I ruminated on his answer. There was a lot of good that could come from money and fame, but I knew it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.

“So, what made you pick Meadow?” Clover asked and Hendrix froze. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the shit out of her, and she’s gorgeous, but I know for a fact she only came to that concert because of me.”

I whacked her shoulder.

“I’m just curious. Wouldn’t it be easier to date someone in the industry, or at the very least, someone who likes your music?”

Hendrix let out a bitter laugh. “You would think that, but no. Honestly…I think the fact that she didn’t like us made me want her. And granted, I don’t remember much about that night, but I do know if I don’t have someone’s approval, I get a little desperate to earn it. Which, now that I think about it, made this career choice a terrible idea.”

“Oh god, yeah,” Clover agreed. “I feel like being famous is the epitome ofcan’t please everyone.”

“Itis.”

“I’m still a little offended you don’t remember me,” I confessed.

“I would be, too, in your shoes,” Hendrix replied. “I watched the security footage outside the VIP room a million times, trying to jog my memory. I’m pretty sure if you had gotten excited when we met, I wouldn’t have thought twice about you, and no offense, because I agree with Clover, but that’s the response I get from everyone at these shows. You being there and not giving a shit made you stand out.”

“So, the secret to finding a rock-star boyfriend is to find one I know absolutely nothing about?” Clover asked.

“She’s kidding,” I insisted, worried he might think Clover was some sort of star stalker, desperate to date one. “She’s just trying to be funny.”

“She’s not really wrong, though. A lot of companies won’t even let you apply to work for them if you indicate that you’re a fan in any way. A lot of people who get on become fans, but I think most places are pretty wary of anyone starting out that way, with all the stalking issues and info leaks.”

“Oh shit,” Clover said. “That makes so much sense. I promise I’m not a stalker. I might know a lot about you guys, but I am one hundred percent Team Meadow.”

“Me too.” He said it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it.

In that moment, I didn’t care that he didn’t have a choice but to be on Team Meadow. That nearly silent sentiment, expressed like he was afraid to acknowledge it, untangled one of the many knots of anxiety that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. I didn’t know any of the band, but I had already mentally committed to giving us a chance. Even outside of needing proximity to Hendrix to not feel like absolute shit, I was curious about all of them as people, eager to learn what kind of partnersand parents they could be if things went permanently down that route.

It was a life full of complications, but when Hendrix reached between the seats for my hand, the tenderness unraveling another anxiety knot, I couldn’t help but think that all of the chaos might be worth it one day.

Chapter 20

Phineas

July, Salt Lake City to Seattle

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