Page 11 of Where You Are

Speak of the devil in bright pink trunks, and he shall appear. Chris pulls himself out of the water and saunters over, grabbing one of his energy drinks out of the cooler on his way. After patting himself down with a towel, he plops down in the lounge chair adjacent to mine. He tips back his BLAST energy drink, takes a few chugs and then lowers it to the table beside him. After situating his sunglasses on his face, he looks around at Matt and I and lets out a belch that rivals the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. Hot.

“What’s up?” he asks, seemingly pleased with himself.

“That your mating call?” Matt asks, with the most comical deadpan expression I’ve ever seen.

“Right you are,” Chris responds with a finger gun at Matt before waving his arms out in front of him. “I’ve put it out in the immediate atmosphere. And now, we wait…”

MATT

Just when Melanie and I were finally carrying a conversation that lasted longer than five minutes and didn’t involve yelling about traffic laws, of course the “life of every party” Chris has to plop his ass down and horn in. Jack is my best friend and partner. Josh is a talent on the rhythm guitar and keyboard but can be like a broody teenager that needs a ‘come to Jesus’ talk every now and then when it comes to his attitude and vices that go along with it. And then we have Chris; our high energy drummer that I have to babysit the most. He’s a loveable guy and I admire how he is unabashedly himself. I just want him to do it somewhere else at this particular moment.

When he reclines back, he takes a hair tie off his wrist and pulls his long bangs up and secures them in a man bun, smack on the top of his head. Pair that and his bright pink swim trunks with bananas on them and he only looks slightly ridiculous. The black Ray-Bans covering his eyes are practically the only thing saving his ass right now. Okay, that’s a dick way to be. I’m just acting a little bitter because I had just started talking to Melanie and he’s sure to steal the spotlight at any moment. It’s his thing.

“You know if you were to sit behind your drum set with your hair like that, you’d totally remind me of Bam Bam from The Flintstones,” Melanie points out, pointing the neck of her bottle at him.

“Sorry Mel, Pebbles had the top knot, and I’m not a friggin girl! I can prove it to you if you like.” Chris makes like he’s reaching for his waistband when I ball up my towel and throw it at him. “Matt you’re such a kill-joy! Anyway, Bam Bam wore a leopard skin cap.Bam-Bam! Bam!So there.” Chris replies in a high-pitched cartoon voice, poking his tongue out at Melanie for emphasis.

Melanie erupts in laughter and all of a sudden, I’m feeling a twinge of hostile jealousy towards Chris. He made the most beautiful sound come out of her mouth, just by being his moronic self. I want to do that. I want to make her laugh.

I do get more time with her when we team up in the yard to play some volleyball with the others, although it’s hard as hell to keep a respectable distance when we hop back in the pool afterward. The green bikini she’s got on sets off the green in her eyes, making them look emerald at the moment. I try not to be obvious as I check out her beautiful body with water droplets beading on her skin that I want to kiss every inch of.

As the sun finally starts to set, we enjoy some incredible barbeque chicken and sriracha shrimp, the beers and cocktails continuing to flow.

The vibe is interrupted though when Jack’s dad, Bill, turns off the music, making all the side conversations halt and heads turn his way.

“Alright, I’m ready to hear some music, some live music! Come on guys!” He starts clapping his hands, trying to get us to get a move on. Jack, Josh and I did bring our guitars, just in case. Jack rolls his eyes from the lounge chair where he sits with Mayzie and Melanie. “What, you can travel and play for thousands of screaming fans that have never met you, but you can’t put on a little live show for your family?” his dad prods.

Jack sighs, and we get up to grab our guitars from inside the house. Once I’ve got mine, I settle back down on the edge of a lounge chair and am surprised to see Melanie come sit down close to me.

“I thought you played bass,” she enquires, when she sees me pull out my six string.

“When we’re recording or performing, yeah,” I explain casually as I look between her and my guitar as I tune it. “But when we’re writing or just jamming around, I use this.

“Why don’t you play guitar on stage?” she asks, tilting her head. She’s seriously interested.

“Well, I’m good at both, but Jack shreds on the guitar. We need that along with his showmanship and vocals,” I give a chuckle.

“You should sing,” she suggests with a coaxing smile that makes my cock jerk in my shorts.

“I sing all the time,” I give her a knowing smirk.

“I mean lead.”

“Sorry darlin’,” I tell her with a wink.

“Hey! What am I going to play?” Chris pipes up when Jack, Josh, and I are all situated with guitars.

“Oh, they’ve got pots and pans, right Sarah?” Josh calls over to Sarah, a teasing look in his eye.

“Forget it man!” She kyboshes from over at the table where she’s on God knows how many of her margaritas. Momentarily deflated, Chris plops down.

We jam out for the next hour, playing only a couple of our songs, mostly sticking to old classics from the Eagles, the Replacements, and some other artists that Jack’s dad would shout out. I don’t sing any lead, but neither does Jack really. It’s laid-back with everyone singing together. I do make sure to make eye contact with Mel a few times while singing Springsteen’sWaiting on a Sunny Day, though. We cycle through some Chili Peppers and Green Day before people start to feel the effects of the alcohol, food, and sun from the day.

Eventually, we run out of songs to play and put our guitars away, opting for light conversation instead. One by one, I see people’s demeanors get sluggish and tired, signaling the end of the sublimely joyous day is near.

Chapter Six

Melanie

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