I knew Avery and Michelle were best friends. I might not be up to date on all the drama and inner workings of our small town, but considering Avery was a common sight at practice, I knew just enough about her social life.

Knowing what I did, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Michelle at our show. That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

I hated that tonight, of all nights, was the one Michelle showed up to our gig. I’d loosened up the best I could while playing and felt like I was doing a damn good job too until my eyes found her sitting at the bar. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she wasn’t staring at me when I spotted her. I was sure she was having a field day tearing me apart, and I could feel my face burn just from the thought of it.

Thankfully, I didn’t have much time to dwell on Michelle before Jenny came up on the stage. I was still packing my equipment up when she walked over. I almost didn’t recognize her. Instead of the usual jeans and tee shirt combo I was used to seeing her in, she was wearing a dress that left so little to the imagination I wasn’t sure if I should be enjoying it or trying to avert my eyes.

It didn’t help that she was standing near me as I was kneeling on the ground putting my guitar in its case. I quickly jumped up before my eyes made any rash decisions for me and rubbed my hands on my jeans.

Looking at her face was just as jarring as the dress. She was wearing dark makeup, and her hair was different than usual. She looked…pretty. Different, but it was good.

“Hey, Rainier,” she said, and I swore even in the dark lighting I could see a blush across her cheeks.

“Hey,” I answered, unsure of what else to say.

“That was a great show.”

“Thanks.”

“You were amazing.”

“I’m too stiff.”

Laughter rang out from behind me. When I spun around to see what the fuss was all about, I couldn’t help but notice Matt was looking right at me while he cracked up. I thought about what I’d just said.

Oh, come on. That wasn’t even bad, but Matt could find a way to make anything sound dirty. I didn’t want to creep Jenny out by giving her the wrong impression, so I shot him a look before turning around.

“Anyway,” I said trying to ignore how awkward I felt. “I’m glad you could come out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Conversation usually came easily between us, but this was downright painful. Our one words responses were the kind you gave someone you didn’t like or know that well. Even knowing I should say or do something to break the weird tension, I couldn’t.

I didn’t know what else to say, and Jenny didn’t add anything either. We stood there awkwardly until my parents walked up. My mom wasted no time pulling me into a hug that practically knocked the breath out of me. She ignored any ground rules I’d laid out for her before the show.

“Oh, we are so proud of you,” my mom said still hugging me. She was rocking our bodies back and forth wildly. I was sure it would catch the attention of everyone in the bar, and I tried to slow her movements.

Of course, Owen chose that moment to walk by and laughed. It wasn’t the lighthearted teasing I’d just gotten from Matt. This was much more sadistic. I might be the weird homeschool kid who didn’t always pick up on social cues, but I still knew he got off on making fun of me.

Mercifully, my dad intervened. “Ok, Maggie. Let the boy go. He’s nineteen, and he doesn’t need his mother hugging him like he’s five.” My mom reluctantly released me and I turned to face my dad. “You really were great, son,” he continued and shook my hand.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Jenny turned to walk away, but my mother called after her before she got far. “Who’s your friend, Rainier?” she asked.

“Mom, this is Jenny. Jenny, my mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson.”

“You work with Rainier, don’t you? We've heard so much about you.”

At this, Jenny’s smile grew wide. She gave me a quick glance before answering my mom. “Yes, ma’am.”

They exchanged comments about the show for a few minutes while I wished I was anywhere but there. Being on stage made me feel vulnerable and having my parents and Jenny fawning over me when I was the weakest member of the band made me even more uncomfortable.

Eventually, my mom brought me back into the conversation. “We really are so proud of you. Maybe we can do ice cream or dinner sometime this week to celebrate our rock star.”

I felt my face heat up, but smiled tightly and nodded. Ice cream for the rock star. I doubted Mick Jagger ever went to ice cream with his parents to celebrate a show. I pictured the giant red tongue associated with The Rolling Stones with a giant cone of soft-serve.

“Jenny, why don’t you join us? I’m sure Rainier can text you when we come up with some plans,” my dad said.

“That sounds great,” she answered before I could say anything. Not only were my parents so weird, but now they were dragging Jenny into it. How embarrassing.

“Then it's settled,” my dad said, shaking her hand. He turned to me and told me he'd see me back at the house before walking off hand-in-hand with my mom.

I spent the next several minutes trying to convince Jenny she didn’t have to come, that my parents were just super supportive. She insisted they were sweet and that she couldn’t wait before leaving. I didn't have many friends, and the support she showed by coming meant a lot.

“Does Weiner want some ice cweam?” a high-pitched voice said from beside me. I just wanted to pack my things up and go home, because like Jenny, I was tired from a long day. I didn’t want to deal with Owen and his attitude. If he hated me so much, why did he agree to have me play as part of the band?

I certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with his crap tonight. “What do you want, Owen?”

“Nothing. I just think it’s adorable your parents take you to ice cream to celebrate your temporary position in The Band.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think it’s adorable that someone who is as into rock and roll as you claim to be didn’t realize there’s already a band called The Band. I bet every time we have a show; all the real music lovers are laughing their asses off at us.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, the confidence that was always evident in his expressions faded.

“Look ‘em up,” I said, and went back to putting my cords away.

There were better ways to address the name. Owen was volatile, and I never knew what would set him off. I’d been working up the courage to say something to Matt for the last couple weeks because even though I wasn’t a long-term part of the band, I was still embarrassed every time Owen announced our name before a show.

Everyone thought the name was so clever, and that just showed how little the group actually knew about classic rock. How could they act like they were the next big thing if they didn’t know their history?

Tap, tap, tap.

So, yeah, I needed to say something. I only wished I would have gone about it differently. I packed the rest of my things and got out of Wild Bill’s as fast as possible.