Crash Into Me (Into Me Series Book One)

Chapter Twenty One - Mine

Jackson's POV

I watch her as she twirls the drumstick in between her fingers. She is glaring at Brian and Adelaide, the singer of the band that I just met today, who argue about a setlist. Caroline leans against the wall of Brian's garage, her bass hanging from the strap on her shoulder, rolling her eyes and looking at Connor who sits next to me on a ratty, old couch. Connor forms a heart shape with his hands and shows it to Caroline, who blushes and laughs to herself, looking away.

I look back to Jet, whose leg shakes impatiently as her shoulders tense and her face turns a deeper shade of red. Her eyes shift over to me, her glare burning into me. We have about t-minus two minutes until she loses her shit. I offer her a smile and a small wave. Her right eye twitches like it always does when she's pissed. She looks back to Brian and Adelaide. I fumble with my silver chain.

"All I'm saying is that we should be focusing more on the classics," Brian argues.
"And all I'm saying is that we are attracting a younger crowd now, so we should be playing more new alternative songs," Adelaide snaps, narrowing her eyes.

Jet sighs loudly, making it clear she's annoyed. T-minus one minute until she loses her shit. She rubs the heel of her hand on the top of her thigh like she always does when she's upset or nervous or anxious. The speed of her leg bouncing increases, the stick twirling faster in between her fingers.

"Why don't we just do both?" Caroline offers, shrugging. She has a good point. Her suggestion falls on deaf ears though.
"We became this popular because of our rendition of the classics, why change now?" Brian snaps.
Jet's leg bounces faster.
"Because growth is an important thing, Brian," Adelaide spits.
"Exactly, so let's grow our set list with more classics!" Brian insists.
"You know that's not what I fucking meant, you ass wipe!" Adelaide rages.
Jet abruptly stops spinning her stick, sitting up straight.
"Don't start calling me names because you're upset!" Brian snips.
"Don't throw a fit because you're not getting your way!" Adelaide retorts.

And three... two... one...

Jet slams her sticks down on her snare drum, catching the attention of the room. Adelaide and Brian look over at her as she stands up abruptly, "Are you guys fucking kidding me right now?!" she fumes, her fists balling at her sides. She is pissed. She's fucking hot when she's pissed.
"Sorry for wanting the band to be the best it can be," Brian replies.
"No! Shut the fuck up with that shit!" Jet rages, walking around her kit to get in Brian's face. My eyes fall on her perfect ass, her shorts just barely covering the bottom of her cheeks.

They have been arguing for a half hour now. I really can't blame Jet for losing it. She usually has a really long fuse, but it's becoming very clear that it has been cut short. Brian and Adelaide keep going in the same fucking circles, the points they argue only repeating over and over again. It's fucking annoying.

"Let's remember who the head of this band is," she snarls. Brian steps back, his face relaxing. "Yeah, that would be me, mother fucker." Brian hangs his head. "We are playing at the Roosevelt, which is almost exclusively people my age, so let's play the newer shit for one fucking show," she commands. Adelaide and Caroline nod their head in agreement. Brian returns to his spot to the right of Adelaide, picking his guitar up and slinging the strap over his shoulder. "Now can we play fucking music now? Would you grant me that honor?" she asks Brian, her voice laced thick with sarcasm.

Brian nods as Jet steps back behind her kit, settling into her seat. She shoves her earpieces in, grabbing her sticks from their resting place on the snare drum. She pulls the microphone from above her to her mouth, hitting it a few times with her finger to make sure it's on. Her eyes finally rest on me and I'm sitting here smiling like a fucking idiot at her, totally head over heels in love with her.