“What’s Caleb’s problem?” I ask Tony.
Caleb won’t stop haggling the guy on stage. He literally just screamed, “Jackson, I’m your number one fan! Let me suck your dick!”
The teens went absolutely nuts, many of them glaring at Caleb before they all started screaming they were Jackson’s biggest fan and they also wanted to suck his dick.
Some of these girls don’t look any older than fourteen.
It turned into an all-out yelling contest, Caleb provoking the girls every step of the way. That Jackson dude started to look uncomfortable and would ask everyone to settle down, even in the middle of a song. He kept sending looks in Caleb’s direction, which only encouraged Caleb to yell even more.
“We know him. He’s on our football team,” Tony explains, his gaze meeting mine. “You met him at my house, remember? Jackson. He practically lives with us, and we had no clue he’s been out here performing for teenagers. They know the words to his songs. I bet he has a freaking fan club. And we had no idea.”
Oh. Oh. The guy who flirted with me the first time I met Tony’s friends on campus. He was cute. Blond. Blue eyed. Tall and broad. He looks a lot grungier on stage, though. He’s giving off serious Kurt Cobain vibes—another musician before my time, but at least I know who he is and what he looks like, thanks to that T-shirt I wore all the time in middle school—right down to the cardigan he’s currently wearing. It’s old and threadbare, a nondescript beige color over a simple white tee. His fingers gleam as he plucks on his guitar thanks to all the rings on them. His jeans are tattered and torn, and he’s got dingy, used to be white Vans on his feet.
The Vans kind of ruin the
vibe, but maybe he’s putting his own spin on it.
“You really had no idea?” I ask once the crowd has finally settled down. Even Caleb is quiet.
“None.” Tony shakes his head, his gaze never leaving the stage. “That dude is full of secrets.”
Jackson sings a couple more songs, including a cover of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box,” no surprise. Though he slows it down and makes it his own—a version I think I might prefer over the original. And then he’s done. He smiles. Murmurs good night into the mic. The lights go down. Within seconds, they’re back up.
And the throne sits on the stage. Empty.
Caleb shoves his way in between me and Tony. “We need to go find that asshole and ask him what’s up.”
“They won’t let us backstage,” Tony says.
“We’ll tell them we know him,” Caleb stresses. “Like, I beat his ass in Call of Duty on almost a nightly basis, know him.”
“Not every night,” I say. Both guys frown at me. “Clearly he’s performed here before. I’m guessing he goes missing sometimes?”
“It’s not like we’re his keeper, but yeah. What the fuck?” Caleb appears bewildered. So does Tony. “I probably took it too far saying he made my panties wet.”
“And the dick sucking offer. That wasn’t subtle at all,” Tony says, sounding amused.
“You’re an asshole.” Leave it to Gracie to be completely blunt. “I swear to God, you yell something like that to Robin or anyone else in Bat’s Cave while they’re performing, and I’m going to kick your ass.”
Caleb bops her on the nose with his index finger. “I’d like to see you try.”
Without hesitation, Gracie lunges for Caleb, her arms stretched out, fingers curled into claws as she swings at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing the entire time, and I grab Gracie around the waist, pulling her away from him.
“Chill out,” I tell her, noticing that a couple of big, burly dudes are watching us. “You don’t want to get kicked out before Robin performs.”
If looks could kill, Caleb would be dead, thanks to Gracie’s glare. “Keep him away from me. I mean it.”
Caleb goes to stand on the other side of Tony. I’m in between Tony and Gracie, so maybe that’ll be enough space to keep them from fighting with each other?
Probably not, but I’m hopeful.
I chat with Gracie while Tony talks to Caleb. She’s a bundle of nervous energy, hopping up and down, shaking out her hands, as if she’s about to enter a boxing ring. She’s anxious on Robin’s behalf, and I think it’s cute, how she always throws herself wholeheartedly into a guy and their potential relationship.
Roadies appear on stage, setting up equipment, including a drum set. Some of the teens leave. Actually, a lot of them leave, and we’re able to shift even closer to the stage. Gracie looks worried.
“I thought they would stick around for the main attraction,” she says, nibbling on her lower lip.
“Looks like our friend stole the show and the crowd,” Caleb crows.