Page 12 of Crash & Burn

“Eddie, you’re a half beat behind. That can’t happen, man.” Mateo sounds annoyed but not angry. He’s a perfectionist, and these upcoming shows mean a lot to him.

“Sorry, just a little distracted,” Eddie responds. “Let’s do it again.”

Before Mateo can say anything else, Eddie is tapping his drumsticks together and the song is starting again.

After thirteen do-overs and half an hour of me messing with the settings on my camera just to focus my mind elsewhere, the guys finally get through the first song without needing to stop, and the song now just sounds like static to me.

“Alright, five minutes and then we’re doing it again and playing right into the next one,” Mateo directs as he walks over to me. “What did you think?” he asks me.

It has been just about three years since I went to one of his shows, and it wasn’t until I saw the shine in his eyes, or heard the hopefulness in his voice that I realized he’s happy I’m here sharing this with him.

“Great!” I respond with a little too much fake-enthusiasm. I take a sip of water from my emotional support water bottle to take a second to think through what I should say next. Before I get the chance to speak, Eddie comes over to us, and I magically forget how to formulate words.

“How’s your hand?” he asks with a friendly grin on his face, but I’m taken aback by the concern in his voice.

“Oh yeah, we heard you were throwing punches last night,” Theo says as he finds a spot standing next to Eddie. “Mateo, you didn’t tell us your little sister was such a badass.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Mateo replies.

“You teach her how to punch?” Silas asks as he walks over to join us.

Mateo nods as he snatches my water bottle from me and takes a sip.

“Hell yeah,” Theo beams as he holds up his hand for a high-five, and I can’t fight the wash of pride I feel being acknowledged by my brother’s friends as I reach up from where I’m sitting to clap my non-punching hand to his.

“Alright, Rocky. Tell us what happened,” Silas says as he sits down on the chair opposite of me.

“Rocky?” I can’t hide the confusion as to how Silas has known me for almost a decade and still doesn’t know my name.

“Or do you prefer ‘The Italian Stallion’?” Theo asks with a chuckle. I turn to Mateo for clarification because we’re not even Italian, but when I see him chuckling too, I catch on to the Rocky Balboa references. Before I can say anything else, Mateo interjects and tells them to stop talking to me and get back to practice.

The three of them begin walking back to their instruments and mic stands, and I see Mateo swat Silas on the back of the head with one hand and then he delivers a similar swat to Theo with the other. The resemblance between Mateo, Theo, and Silas is that of a paternal figure condoning his two sons. I can’t hear what was exchanged, but I’m sure it was something along the lines of, “Leave Mia alone.”

I can’t help but feel a little boost in confidence that Theo thought what I did was badass, and that Silas sounded impressed that I knew how to punch.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks. I didn’t notice he was still leaning on the wall next to my table. He’s dressed in a white Cross My Heart T-shirt with black jeans. His eyes should be dulled by the lack of bright lights in the warehouse, but they are still as striking as ever. His arms are crossed, revealing his toned forearms and making his biceps strain against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Mia?” he says again, and I refocus on his face when I’m greeted with a hint of what would be the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen . . . if it wasn’t my older brother’s friend delivering it. I feel my chest heat up at the fact that he just caught me checking him out, so I stand up and grab my camera from the table just to do something with my hands before saying, “Yeah, totally fine. Not even bruised.”

The words come out forced and rushed, but at least I was able to form the words while also looking at his face. That is an improvement.

For some reason, being the center of his attention caused a weird alteration in my brain chemistry because I never had an issue with him when he was kept at a safe distance.

Stop it, Mia.

Before he can respond, I rush out another string of words with no spaces between them that Ihopemakes a coherent sentence.

I never used to be someone who struggled to keep up with comebacks or shy away from a smartass comment, so the fact that I feel all the blood bubbling just under the skin on my chest is embarrassing. Not because I care what Eddie thinks about me checking him out, but because of the fact that I can’t hold my own anymore.

Holding my camera, I walk towards where the rest of the band is.

Apparently, I’m going to take some pictures.

Chapter 5

Eddie

I thought I was distracted at the beginning of practice with Mia being here, but after watching her check me out, I don’t know how I’m going to focus on something as trivial as staying on beat.

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