Xander: Part One (Rockstar #9) Read online

  Her eyes go wide and she stills. "What?"

  "I know I'm going to love you forever. You're it for me. I know I say that a lot, but I mean it with everything in me, Tera. I fucking love you so much that sometimes I can't even handle it. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine."

  I hold up the box, opening it to reveal the emerald cut ring Dad and Rosa helped me pick out and Tera gasps.

  "Xander! What are you doing right now?"

  "What I know to be right."

  "We're seventeen!"

  "So? Do you love me?"

  "So much."

  "Do you think that's ever going to change for you?"

  "No."

  "I've already loved you most of my life and I know I'll love you for the rest of it. Tera Denise Ramirez, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

  Her eyes are wide, her mouth in the shape of an O, her cheeks flushed.

  She looks from me to the ring, me to the ring, me to the ring.

  "That's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen," she breathes.

  "It's yours."

  "Xander," she says, shaking her head. "What… how… why? I don't… give me a minute to wrap my head around this because holy shit." She laughs.

  I smirk.

  "Life with you is never boring."

  "That's a fact, baby," I reply.

  "Ca-can you just put the ring down? People are staring."

  "Yep. Absolutely." Oh hell. I don't want people looking at us if she's going to say no. Hell, I don't want them looking at us if she's going to say yes. This is our moment. I should have thought this through.

  I put the ring down and she takes my hand. I'm really glad we're sitting next to each other instead of across from one another. I turn to face her.

  "Xan. Holy shit, I mean, we're talking marriage here. I figured we'd get married some day, but I didn't… we're seventeen."

  "You keep saying that, but does it really matter? We knew when we were eight, the minute we saw each other, that we were forever. Why not make it legal?" I reason.

  "You're right. You're absolutely right, but Xander, your life is just beginning. You're going to be out there rocking people’s asses off. You might want something different once you learn what all that is about. I can't go with you. It's not in the cards. I've got to finish my senior year here while you all get tutored on the road."

  "We're only going to be gone for three months," I remind her.

  She nods. "And then you'll go out on tour again for a few more months. Mr. Nichols said they want you to tour a lot at first. Get your name out there. Three months on, a month off, for a year. I can come visit, but I can only come on weekends or days off—and you may be traveling or have shows then having to move to the next place."

  She looks down and takes a breath. When she looks up, there are tears welling in her eyes.

  "I want so much to say yes. More than anything I want to be your wife, to be yours forever."

  "But…" I prod with a lopsided grin that is anything but happiness.

  "But… why don't we wait. See how this first three months go. Then, if you still feel the same about marriage and about me, ask me again. If you ask me again, I'll say yes," she says softly, trying to smile but failing.

  A lone tear drips down onto her cheek.

  "Don't cry, T. I get it. I do. I won't say I'm not disappointed, but you're right. We'll both be eighteen when I get back, adults, and we'll know more. But, damn it all, I know nothing's going to change for me. I'll still love you so hard I ache and I'm going to want you for always," I defend.

  She nods. "I think so, too… but we need to know for sure. Just in case. Because if I marry you, Xan, and we change, I won't recover from that. I don't doubt that we'll always be in love, for as long as we both are breathing, but circumstances change and then feelings change. You may not want to be married after you find out what touring entails, but we can still love each other."

  "You suck. Why do you have to be logical?" I tease.

  "I'm brilliant, that's why," she mocks, grinning through tears.

  "Nothing is going to change. Not for me, Tera," I affirm once more.

  She nods. "For me either. Let's just wait. It's only three months."

  "I’m holding you to that," I warn.

  "Good. I'm a woman of my word. You know that."

  I close the ring box. "This will be waiting and so will I."

  Two days later, we're packed and all loaded up. Nichols Records hooked us up with pretty luxurious tour buses—one for us and one for the equipment and crew. Nichols Records also hooked us up with the lighting kit we used when we performed We're Here. Big bucks.

  I was expecting the tour buses to be shitty, like you see some bands on for their first tour. But Cage Nichols spared no expense. This dude thinks we're the next big thing. He believes in us so much, it's staggering.

  Jerry, our tour manager, is handling the crew and all the other shit, but we were told if we have any concerns, to contact Mr. Nichols directly. He's a pretty fucking stand-up guy.

  I hold Tera close, just breathing in her floral scent. Jasmine. That's what she says it is, but I always associate it with her. She gave me a pillowcase she sprayed with the scent and she slept on it for two days. I gave her a bunch of my t-shirts. I'd wear them for a few hours, then she put them in Ziplock bags. This girl, she's a genius… and she's mine.

  "I'm going to miss you so fucking much," I admit.

  "I'll miss you, too. But I'll be in Denver in two weeks. If anything changes and it doesn't work out, Xan, don't feel badly about it. Promise me," she demands.

  "I promise, baby. How am I going to go two weeks without you?" I murmur.

  "We'll make it. We can text and you can call anytime. I'll ditch class just to talk to you, you know that, babe. I can't imagine any of the teachers giving me shit for it. I've got a slack senior year," she informs me.

  "I hate that you'll be there without me. Don't take any shit from anyone."

  "I won't. I'm made of tougher stuff than they are."

  "And they all know it, too," I say with pride.

  She squeezes me tighter. We'd spent every second of the last two days and nights together being goofy, making love, and trying not to let reality crash in. The guys gave us a wide berth, knowing we needed it.

  "Don't fall in love with someone else," I mutter.

  Her head snaps up. "What did you say?"

  I shrug a shoulder. "The guys are going to be all over you now that we're not there. They backed off because we were together, but before that they walked the line because they knew the guys were protecting you. Now they'll be able to get away with all that shit."

  "No, they won't. I don't want any part of that or them," Tera tells me, her expression fierce.

  I nod and swallow. I guess she's not the only one who's feeling a little insecure over this separation. The other night she asked about other girls. Fuck no. Just her. I can wait for her like I told her I would. If she comes to visit every couple weeks or whatever, that's enough for me. She's enough.

  "Almost time to load up," Linc says as he walks up. "Gonna let me hug my sister goodbye?"

  "No."

  "The fuck," he huffs. "Fine." He walks around behind Tera and hugs her between us. He rests his head on top of hers as she laughs.

  "You're crazy, Lincoln."

  "I am, sis, but I'm gonna miss the hell out of you."

  "I'll miss you too, but I'll see you in a couple of weeks," she says.

  He grunts. "For all of ten seconds. You're going to be there to see this goofball, not me."

  "Aww, Linc. I'll be there to see you all. I'll give you hello and goodbye hugs," she teases.

  He grunts again. "That's what I thought. But I'm cool with it."

  "Load up!" Jerry shouts and my heart thumps hard. I can feel the tears begin to form behind my eyes and I fight it hard. I'll be strong for her.

  Linc kisses the top of her head. "Love you, T."

  "Love you too, L
inc."

  The rest of the guys say their goodbyes and then it's just us.

  "I'm not going to say 'goodbye'. It's just see you later, not goodbye," Tera murmurs against my chest, her voice breaking.

  "Exactly. At least we have cell phones. If we'd been touring twenty years ago with no cell phones and Internet, that would've sucked. We can talk anytime, and there's Skype and text. Always message me. I don't want to miss anything that's happening with you," I tell her.

  "Same goes. I know you won't have as much freedom to text as I do, but kinda keep a list of things that are happening so you can talk to me about them when we call or Skype," she requests.

  "Done."

  I tip her chin up, her face ravaged with tears; it hurts my heart to leave, but it kills me to see her hurt.

  I lean in and kiss her lips softly. Just a soft pass across hers. When she opens, I slip my tongue inside, against hers, needing to take this last taste of her with me to help make the next two weeks easier. She moans and whimpers. I can taste her tears—or are those mine?

  I don't know how much time passes, but we pull apart and our gazes hold. I brush her hair away from her tear-stained face.

  "I love you, Tera."

  "I love you, too, Xan."

  I kiss her forehead once, then force myself to walk away from her.

  "See you later, baby."

  "See you later."

  I don't look out the window as the bus pulls away. I don't look back. I let the music lead me where I need to go for now.

  Then I'll go back to her.

  Chapter Ten

  Tera

  I've cried every day since they left. I give myself only ten minutes to purge my sadness, no more, and only once a day.

  I cry in private where no one else can see.

  I do this so when Xander asks others about me, they don't tell him I've been crying because I miss him.

  I do this so I don't do it while I'm talking with this boy I've loved forever.

  I don't just miss Xander, though I do miss him the most. I also miss the guys and my brother. The rowdy boys who filled the house full of chaos and laughter.

  When I'm done crying, I carry on. I go to school and then I paint. I paint and paint and paint, working on this piece for the competition. It's vibrant and bright. Mrs. Stark says it's brilliant.

  But this one that I'm working on at home? It's about music, with a large black vinyl record in the middle, random music notes, random colors, lots of red and black and gray. For me, this is dark. I'm normally one to use bright, vibrant colors. But this one is for Falling Down. Their colors are red and black. White and grey fill in the rest for me. I'm considering adding a huge line of hot pink down the middle.

  I smirk.

  But no. I form the letters, making them abstract and gritty. I wonder what they'll think of this when they see it.

  There's a knock at the studio door—well, it's a room, really. Dr. Mac set up the sunroom for me to paint in. The room is all glass windows and beauty.

  I turn, setting down my brush and palette, using the cloth I have nearby to wipe my fingers.

  "Hi Dr. Mac," I greet with a smile. No matter how I'm feeling, he makes me smile because, to me, he's one of the best men I know.

  "Tera. I just wanted to pop in and see how things are coming along. I missed you at dinner," he informs me.

  He's been coming home earlier so he can eat with me. I told him that's not necessary, but he insisted. So, Mrs. M moved suppertime from five-thirty to six-thirty and we now eat as a family. It's so different. It's polite and quiet. No swears or rude comments. No belching.

  Just me, Dr. Mac, and Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. They've been trying to get me to call them by their first names, but it doesn't seem right. When I take the plunge I'll call them mom and dad.

  "Wow," he exclaims when he sees what I'm working on. "That's fantastic, Tera."

  "Thanks. I'm almost finished."

  He nods, hands in his pockets as he stares at the canvas.

  "Are you going to give them this?"

  "I don't know," I reply, shrugging a shoulder. And I don't. I didn’t do this for them. I did it for me.

  "They'd love it. I think they'd take the lettering and work it into their logo. It's much better than the boring graphic they've got now."

  "Hmm. Maybe. Maybe I'll draw a logo and see what they think. This… this was just me getting it all out on the canvas."

  He nods again.

  "I've been considering painting a hot pink line down the middle, maybe a lightning bolt," I snicker.

  "Hot pink?" Dr. Mac chuckles. "That's one way to take out your aggression."

  I laugh. "It's not really aggression. It's… in some ways I think the success of the band will replace me in Xander's life. In some ways it already has, but what I fear the most is he finds more happiness making music and touring than he has with me."

  "Is that why you said no?"

  "Partly. Mostly because I want to see what happens with three months apart. It's been three weeks. I did get to go see him for the weekend, most of which he was busy, but I got to see what them being on tour is all about and everything they go through and deal with at each show. It's a lot. They may not set up and break down, but they need to practice a lot, get the sound just right. Linc works his magic with the board, but he said some of the acoustics are shit, and the outdoor venues they have to just go with a standard setting."

  "That must frustrate the hell out of him, " Dr. Mac mutters with a smirk.

  I nod. "It totally does."

  I stare at the canvas with him. I wonder what he sees. Everyone who stares at a painting sees something differently. It's all about their perspective. As much as I'd like them to see what I'm feeling, I still hold back with this piece. Those feelings are too raw.

  "Go on with what you were saying," he prods.

  "Well, we text and talk when we can. I get more time to text at certain times than he does and he gets more time at others. We can't seem to connect at the same time, but that's okay. We still connect, you know?"

  "But?"

  "But no matter how close we try to stay, he's still so far away. I see his face when we Skype, but it's not the same. I miss all of them. The house is too quiet."

  Dr. Mac nods his agreement. "It is. It's taking some getting used to."

  "How did Mr. Nichols talk the Kingstons into letting Jesse and Ben go on tour?" I ask, curious. I never did ask.

  "Money. With them it's always money. It's how they were able to be on the show," he informs me with a look of derision.

  I nod. "Sounds about right. At least they got to go. Mr. Nichols is very young to own a record company."

  He nods. "He is, but when I talked to him he mentioned taking over for someone, essentially buying out a mediocre record company and turning it around. He's got a good head for business."

  "I bet in five years he has a huge company. That'll be great for the guys."

  "I worry about them. I worry they'll get in with the wrong crowd and do things they should, get into trouble."

  "They won't, Dr. Mac. You know they all made a pact to not go down that path. With Kennedy's mom, Ethan's mom, and my mom, they saw first-hand what destruction the hard drugs bring with their high. We all decided it's not worth it," I tell him.

  His brow lifts and he smiles. "I'm glad. Thank you for telling me. That helps."

  "I thought you knew about that already. I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner. It's not a secret. It's something we're all pretty proud of."

  "And you should be. I'm just realizing you're not kids anymore. You're grown ups, but you've been making grown-up decisions for quite some time already, haven't you?" he questions.

  "Yes," I answer with a shrug. "It's just how it was, so we did what we needed to."

  "I wish you'd all had better childhoods. I tried my best, but some things can't be forgotten," he offers.

  "No, they can't, but Dr. Mac, you took care of us. You loved us and gave us a place to c
all home. We never had a home like this."

  At his questioning look, I elaborate.

  "We had a house to go to, but never a home. Home is where you're loved. Home is where you feel safe. Home is where happiness and laughter begin. We all had that here. Please don't think you didn't do enough. You did so much."

  He pulls me into a hug. "And I'll keep doing it. Come to me when you're lonely, Tera. I'm here. I miss them too."

  I sigh. "Okay."

  "We'll find a way to get through it."

  "We will."

  "Hey baby," Xander says by way of greeting when I answer the phone.

  "Hey you! You're calling me early," I murmur softly as I exit the classroom. Funny how they never question me when I leave without permission.

  "I had a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something."

  The tone in his voice… something about it sets me on edge.

  "What's going on?"

  "Well," he says flatly, "I heard you and Shea got invited to the winter formal."

  "Yeah, so what about it? I'm not going."

  "I think you should."

  "I'm not going to formal alone." That's pathetic.

  "That's not what I meant. Bear with me."

  "Okay." I'm hesitant but I'll hear him out.

  "I was thinking, since I can't be there, maybe you should go to formal with someone else."

  "No fucking way. What's wrong with you?" Now I'm pissed.

  "Just listen, Tera."

  "I don't want to listen."

  "Do it anyway—for me."

  "That's not fair."

  "I don't play fair, you know this."

  I huff, as I lean against one in a long line of lockers.

  "It's formal, T. It's a huge deal. I know it is, even to you."

  "Maybe."

  "No maybe. It is. I was thinking, if you and Shea were to go to formal on a sort of double date but only with guys I think are okay, then I'd be okay with it—seeing as I can't be there."

  I can hear the sadness in his voice. He's despondent and I don't like it.

  "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Why not? I trust you. I want you to have all the moments you deserve even if I’m not there to share them with you. You deserve to have those moments, T."