Chapter 6

Though Jo's legs and lungs burned, she couldn't stop smiling. The lights of Main Street glowed in front of her, growing bigger and brighter and louder as she stood and stomped into the pedals as hard as she could.

Once she made it down Main and the lights started looking dirtier and dimmer, she'd nearly be there.

A truck careened past her, spraying puddle water onto her jeans as it blared its horn at her. She screamed, but as fast as she had lost her balance, she'd regained it, and the truck was gone. She burst out laughing as she flew down Main and past the grocery store, past the theater.

The buildings around her steadily grew shabbier and shadier. Then came the old steelworks Eddie mentioned, and the harvested cornfield that sprawled under the stars as far as Jo could see. Dim lights drifted into the street from a rickety building, and floating on the air, the unmistakable wail of an electric guitar.

She'd found it.

She swerved into the parking lot. Laughing in triumph, legs still shaking, Jo hopped off her borrowed bike, dragged it to the front, and propped it against the wall. Music drifted in from inside. Blast beats and a deep, growling bass already shook the floor as she opened the door. She forgot her breathlessness, the burn in her lungs, her aching legs, as soon as she stepped inside.

The voice would have gotten her attention anyway, but seeing it come out of him as his Warlock seethed in his hands made Jo stop in her tracks.

No one made Iron Maiden sound good but Iron Maiden. And Corroded Coffin, apparently. "The Trooper" was all but bowing down to them, and Jo hadn't even heard much of the first verse. But she was comfortable in the shadows where no one could see her, and her feet refused to move.

Eddie had told her playing with the guys felt like flying. And flying he was as his fingers rocket across the fretboard, somehow making a complicated solo look effortless. He was in another world, on another planet. He'd clearly played it so many times that he hardly needed to concentrate. The song was a part of him, his guitar an extension of him.

Then he came back down to Earth to sing. And that was when he caught her eye. His brow furrowed; then his face lit up. He couldn't keep the smile out of his voice, even if he was belting out a story of war and blood and death.

They rolled straight out of The Trooper into Heaven and Hell without stopping. As the band's feet hit the ground after soaring with Iron Maiden, Jo's did, too. But she knew where they were going, and they'd soon be flying again.

Eddie's eyes didn't leave hers as he sang, as he played.

The lover of life's not a sinner, the ending is just a beginning….

Everything drifted away as they picked up speed, soaring again moments later, riding the wave of Ozzy's genius. Jo didn't want to come back down again, but then Eddie was reaching for his acoustic, and now she didn't fly with him, but walked through cool grass, just the two of them, in a world that was quiet and far away from all of their troubles.

Jo hadn't quite come out of the daze when Eddie set his guitar down, said they were taking five, and hopped off the front of the stage, if it could be called that. It was more like an old riser that threatened to fall out from under then at any second. Hell, it was a miracle the roof hadn't fallen in on them. It was like the inside of a dingy, cigarette-soot smelling cave, but Eddie's smile lit it up like it had just been strung with Christmas lights as he jogged over to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. It took her a second to hear him laughing over the Slayer blaring from the speakers.

"It fucking worked. I can't believe it fucking worked!"

Now Jo was laughing. She buried her face into his shoulder. "It almost didn't."

"How so?"

"There wasn't any cash in that entire office!"

"Then how'd you get here?"

"I… biked."

Eddie's hands found her shoulders. "You biked. Like you pedaled from school, like eight miles, just to get here?"

Jo smiled and shrugged. Eddie slipped his arm around her shoulders, the familiar weight of it making the room seem a little less foreign.

"Didn't think your dad would let you have a bike, either."

"He doesn't."

"Then how'd you–"

"I took one from the racks in front of the school."

"You stole a bike?!"

"I didn't steal it, Eddie, I borrowed it. I'm taking it back."

"Okay." His arm tightened around her as he smirked and whispered in her ear, "Thief."

Jo laughed. "It's like taking a book from the library, you know… without telling the librarian."

"Thief."

Now her cheeks were burning. "Fine. How about non-consensual rental?"

"That sounds so wrong."

Now she was laughing so hard her whole torso hurt.

"You're not riding back on that thing, though. I'll take you back once we're done here. I can get you there in ten minutes. No problem."

"Eddie! Ready when you are!"

"I'll be right there!" He turned back to Jo, and it was suddenly hard for her to think or breathe, and her stomach was fluttering, her heart skipping around in her chest, at the ten million gigawatt smile that lit up Eddie's face.

"I'm so glad you made it, Walker."

Words. Words would be good, if she could get them out without looking like an idiot.

"I… I am too."

She thought the laugh that followed was the stupidest sounding thing.

God, that laugh is the most magical sounding thing—

"I'll find you after. Be a good time to meet the guys, if you want to."

Even mentioning it sent a pang of nerves through Eddie's chest. Why on Earth was introducing his new friend to his other friends so damn daunting all of a sudden? Maybe it was because this could be the last time he'd imagine how if went before it actually happened. There was no reason they wouldn't get along.

Jo was nothing like the last one. They'd see it.

As he slung his guitar over his shoulders and found his feet in front of the mic again, he realized his palms were sweating. He blew out a big breath and looked over his shoulder.

"You guys ready?"

Gareth, Greg, and Dougie all wore matching smirks.

"Shut up."

"So that's her?" Gareth raised an eyebrow while spinning a drumstick.

'Shut up."

"She's cute," Dougie said.

"Shut up."

"You two would have cute babies," Greg said.

"Fuck you all."

The band had returned to the front of the stage, and Jo wondered who was who behind Eddie. Why was Eddie introducing her, his friend, to his other friends, feel like going to meet the in-laws? Or, at least, what she imagined that must feel like, seeing as she'd never–

"So every now and then," Eddie said, "we'll take a song that's definitely not metal and put our own spin on it."

"Just 'cause we can," one of the guys came in behind him. Was it Greg who played rhythm guitar, or was it Gareth?

"Just 'cause we can. So here's a little Foreigner, our style."

It didn't sound too much different from the original to start; just had a heavier drum and more grit in the guitars. Jo recognized it immediately—a song her mother loved and her father hated.

You don't have to read my mind

To know what I have in mind

Honey, you oughta know

It took her a second to realize that as he sang, Eddie looked right. at. her.

Now you move so fine

Let me lay it on the line

I wanna know what you're doing after the show

He flashed that grin at her, and again, it got hard to breathe.

Now it's up to you

Can we make a secret rendezvous?

Just me and you

I'll show you lovin' like you never knew

She hoped to God and whatever else might be looking down on her that he couldn't see her blushing. Her face and neck smarted.

But you've got to give me a sign

C'mon, girl, some kind of sign

Tell me, are you hot, mama?

You sure look that way to me

Heat roared through her entire body. Maybe she didn't realize it until now. No, she was kidding herself. She knew, and she'd smashed it down. She'd known from the second she saw him in the hallway on the first day.

He was utterly, completely gorgeous.

Are you old enough?

Will you be ready when I call your bluff?

Yes, and… yes?

Is my timing right?

Did you save your love for me tonight?

She didn't know the first thing about—

But the way he belted out that chorus, and the way her looked at her, said he absolutely did.

Now it's up to you

We can make a secret rendezvous

Oh, before we do

You'll have to get away from you-know-who

And that, right there, was the hard part. But she'd done it once. Maybe her luck would hold and she could do it again.

Or maybe you-know-who would come storming through the door—

He doesn't get to ruin this!

The thought was like a thunderclap, and even she was surprised by its ferocity.

He didn't get to ruin this, like he'd ruined everything else.

Besides, she thought with a smirk. It was her birthday.

You get what you want on your birthday.