kissed her, she mused. And why was he playing it so cool, she wondered. She watched as her friend sprinted ahead of her to open the driver's side door for her. With all the warm, stimulating feelings this unexpected intimacy had produced, she definitely longed to find out the meaning behind it.
Chapter Eight
A week later, Jake’s hand was still a bit bruised, but he swore to everyone that he’d be able to play the Gypsy Lounge gig. Carly didn’t quite believe him, but she knew his stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to miss out on his musical debut with the Flaming Dogs. She was also a bit distracted ever since that kiss at the baseball field. She was even more perplexed that Jake hadn't said a word about it and was playing it cool - as if nothing of significance had occurred between them. She did catch him a few times glancing her way while they were hanging out with friends. And she noticed that several times after finishing a conversation with him, his eyes would linger on her face for just a split second longer, as though he were admiring an intriguing piece of artwork that had found a place in his heart. After a few days of nothing else strange occurring and Jake failing to bring it up, she decided to let it go.
The night of the performance came more quickly than they had all anticipated. They all - save Roy - arrived early to help Jake and the rest of the band set up for the concert, although Aaron was much more helpful lifting the heavy equipment. Carly grabbed a microphone from the front seat of Garrett’s van and walked through the back door of the club. She followed several employees with black staff shirts down the long corridor and into the backstage area, where several men were busy plugging things into outlets, running test checks on equipment, and running wires and cables throughout the area. She felt as if she was in the way, so she set the microphone down on a speaker and walked back down the hallway to find the twins. While she searched for her friends, she ran into Jake, who was lugging his guitar case. He seemed heavily preoccupied, yet he still noticed her and smiled.
“Where’s Roy?” he asked, looking past her at the cluttered backstage area.
“He couldn’t make it. He’s got a dinner meeting with a recruiter from some college.”
Jake barely heard Carly’s reply, for Garrett shouted down the hallway just then instructing the band to meet onstage. Jake rushed off, leaving her to stand amidst the swelling chaos. A club employee carrying a heavy speaker almost ran into her. He looked at her with an annoyed expression on his face.
“Can I please get by you? This stuff isn’t exactly light,” he huffed. “Are you lost?”
“I’m with the band,” Carly replied timidly.
The employee rolled his eyes. “Aren't they all.”
With that, he moved past her, mumbling a string of indiscernible words under his breath. She suddenly felt even more insignificant than she had before and was anxious to escape and get out of everyone's way. While scanning the corridor for a place to hide out, she heard a friendly and familiar voice emanating from behind her. She was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a small, closet-sized room flanking the corridor. She turned to face her “assailant” and smiled.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” Carly said to Aaron. He could see the distress in her eyes. “I just feel like such an imposter back here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Aaron reassured her, watching a procession of drums parading by. “I’m sure it gets pretty hectic before a show.”
She was thankful to be out of the storm for now, particularly since the chaos only seemed to worsen as it neared show time. She observed all the activity, noting how all the men in
Chapter Eight
A week later, Jake’s hand was still a bit bruised, but he swore to everyone that he’d be able to play the Gypsy Lounge gig. Carly didn’t quite believe him, but she knew his stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to miss out on his musical debut with the Flaming Dogs. She was also a bit distracted ever since that kiss at the baseball field. She was even more perplexed that Jake hadn't said a word about it and was playing it cool - as if nothing of significance had occurred between them. She did catch him a few times glancing her way while they were hanging out with friends. And she noticed that several times after finishing a conversation with him, his eyes would linger on her face for just a split second longer, as though he were admiring an intriguing piece of artwork that had found a place in his heart. After a few days of nothing else strange occurring and Jake failing to bring it up, she decided to let it go.
The night of the performance came more quickly than they had all anticipated. They all - save Roy - arrived early to help Jake and the rest of the band set up for the concert, although Aaron was much more helpful lifting the heavy equipment. Carly grabbed a microphone from the front seat of Garrett’s van and walked through the back door of the club. She followed several employees with black staff shirts down the long corridor and into the backstage area, where several men were busy plugging things into outlets, running test checks on equipment, and running wires and cables throughout the area. She felt as if she was in the way, so she set the microphone down on a speaker and walked back down the hallway to find the twins. While she searched for her friends, she ran into Jake, who was lugging his guitar case. He seemed heavily preoccupied, yet he still noticed her and smiled.
“Where’s Roy?” he asked, looking past her at the cluttered backstage area.
“He couldn’t make it. He’s got a dinner meeting with a recruiter from some college.”
Jake barely heard Carly’s reply, for Garrett shouted down the hallway just then instructing the band to meet onstage. Jake rushed off, leaving her to stand amidst the swelling chaos. A club employee carrying a heavy speaker almost ran into her. He looked at her with an annoyed expression on his face.
“Can I please get by you? This stuff isn’t exactly light,” he huffed. “Are you lost?”
“I’m with the band,” Carly replied timidly.
The employee rolled his eyes. “Aren't they all.”
With that, he moved past her, mumbling a string of indiscernible words under his breath. She suddenly felt even more insignificant than she had before and was anxious to escape and get out of everyone's way. While scanning the corridor for a place to hide out, she heard a friendly and familiar voice emanating from behind her. She was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a small, closet-sized room flanking the corridor. She turned to face her “assailant” and smiled.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” Carly said to Aaron. He could see the distress in her eyes. “I just feel like such an imposter back here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Aaron reassured her, watching a procession of drums parading by. “I’m sure it gets pretty hectic before a show.”
She was thankful to be out of the storm for now, particularly since the chaos only seemed to worsen as it neared show time. She observed all the activity, noting how all the men in
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