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  And the night of the Battle of the Bands arrived. Katie got there early, when Johnny and the crew did, and she claimed a front-bleacher seat. She wound up moving up two tiers when she saw the judges setting up a table right in front of her. She wanted to see it all, not filtered through a bunch of heads. Before the judges arrived, all the bands got to the gym early and began assembling their equipment so all they would have to do when it was their turn would be to move it all in place. Katie scoured the program beforehand—she saw that two bands had dropped out of the running for one reason or another, and there were only twelve performing. Johnny’s band was last. She hadn’t even known until reading the program what they’d named themselves: Spawn of Satan. Of course. Why not?

  Some of the bands were so good that it was hard to believe they were still in high school. Many of them did covers of tunes—some were pop, some were punk, some were rock, and two were metal. Some of them needed a lot more practice—squeaky voices, wrong notes, getting out of sync, nerves made of Mexican jumping beans. But Katie was just impressed that they had the courage to get up in front of the whole school—over five hundred people, not including the teachers and parents who’d decided to brave it all. Anyone who could keep his or her cool under that kind of pressure earned her respect.

  And, finally, after two hours, the majorette who’d been introducing the acts announced that up next was Spawn of Satan. Katie nearly squealed in anticipation. Finally, she would be able to see Johnny doing his thing.

  The lights were brought down, but Katie was able to see the band members in silhouette moving their equipment out to the center, including two huge amplifiers. She then saw Mike sit down at the drum set. Suddenly, his pounding, rhythmic drums broke the silence. Katie could feel the beat in her heart, as though his drumsticks were hitting her breastbone, the cadence insistent. And Katie nodded—it was very good. The lights around the performance area started to come up, and she heard Trent’s bass playing as he walked under the lights. Then Johnny and Norberg came out, screaming guitars playing both in unison and against each other. It was loud. It was demanding. It was incredible. Finally, Riley joined them onstage, the microphone gripped between his hands as he screamed an introduction.

  Katie was blown away, first by the fact that they all seemed professional, like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Even if she hadn’t had the rest of the school’s bands to compare them to, she would have been impressed. Their equipment was slick and they sounded polished, unlike a lot of the earlier bands of the night. The crowd of kids in the gym cheered and yelled, reaching a crescendo until Riley began singing the first verse. Katie couldn’t understand a single word he sang, but it didn’t matter. He sounded great too.

  And, second, they looked like rock stars. They must have spent the afternoon sketching some fake tattoos in their arms, but even their clothes, their equipment, and their attitude made them appear to be a band who’d been doing this for years. Johnny had a red bandanna wrapped around his right wrist, and he’d gelled his hair into a faux-hawk. He wore a black Slayer concert shirt, red leather pants, and black high-top sneakers. Katie had been mesmerized by Riley during the first verse—he had an onstage charisma she’d never seen in person before, a stage presence that now captivated her—but then her eyes were drawn to her best friend. Johnny had become a different man on stage. Yes, a man, Katie told herself. There was something so different about him. He seemed so poised, so confident, so sure of himself. He played like a pro—she could hardly see his fingers moving at some spots. And he kept posturing—moving, then pausing, facing the audience so they could see what he was doing. He’d shake his head and stick out his tongue “demonically,” then grin at the audience. He was in his element, loving every second. And he had charisma too. Everything that Katie had always loved about her friend was amplified by ten onstage. Katie was certain he couldn’t see her eyes and she was glad, because suddenly Johnny seemed like a different person to her and she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

  Never in the more than seven years that Katie had been friends with Johnny had she felt this way. Watching Johnny onstage forced Katie to see him as more than a friend. He’d always been, in her mind, that gangly fifth grader with the quick sense of humor and gapped-tooth grin. But onstage he was sexy. Yes, sexy. He was manly; he was gorgeous. And so, for the rest of the song, even though she tried to watch the entire band, she found herself drawn to Johnny—her best friend who had now just become her lust. She felt her whole body grow warm and tingly, and her cheeks felt hot.

  She’d had crushes on a lot of guys in high school, but she’d never captured anyone’s interest. She had plenty of male friends, but no suitors. She’d supposed it was because she and Johnny were close friends. Either guys who might have been interested thought she and Johnny were boyfriend and girlfriend or they didn’t want to hassle with a girl who had a guy friend—he might be overprotective and brotherly. It hadn’t bothered her much. Sure, she’d always wanted to hold hands with a cute boy or kiss someone, but she knew the time would come. She’d bided her time falling asleep kissing her pillow, pretending it was her latest crush, and then just waited. She knew it would happen someday.

  But now it seemed so clear to her. It was better this way. Maybe she and Johnny were just destined to be together. And then she wondered if maybe Johnny had felt the same way about her for a long time. He’d gone on occasional dates, but nothing that lasted. In fact, the last date he’d had was at Homecoming last fall. Katie was pretty sure that he’d also gotten laid, but Johnny would never have said anything to her about something like that. She suspected, though, because he just seemed a little different after that—nothing bad, just different.

  All it took was the six minutes of Johnny’s band onstage (yes, it hadn’t escaped Katie’s notice that they went over the time limit) for Katie to see with her own eyes what she’d been missing all these years. Her best friend could be the ideal boyfriend too.

  After the song was over, the audience gave Spawn of Satan a standing ovation. The audience had chosen its favorite without being told to. Katie noticed that she wasn’t the only one in love with the band. Johnny put the index and middle finger of his right hand together and “saluted” the crowd, something that—years later—would become a signature move. Riley pulled the bandanna from around his neck and threw it into the crowd, and a dozen eager girls pounced on it before one emerged the victor. Yuck, Katie thought. All that fuss over a sweaty bandanna. But she hadn’t failed to notice the band had “arrived.”

  The judges conferred, whispers and huddled shoulders, around their table, and the majorette stepped back up to the stage. Johnny and crew stepped back to join all the other bands on the left hand side of the gym. The majorette announced that the judges were tallying their votes, but in the meantime, she would go down the list of bands and ask for the audience to cheer for their favorites. As she went down the list, all the bands got a decent amount of applause—Katie was glad that none of them would go home ashamed. But, ultimately, there was no question whom the audience favorite was—hands down, it was Spawn of Satan.

  The judges then passed their results to the majorette. She announced the top three bands in no particular order first, and of course one was Johnny’s band. She then told them who was number three, then number two. And Katie was not surprised to learn that Spawn of Satan would be playing at the prom that spring.

  The crowd was excited and so was the band. The principal then got up to thank everyone and send all of them on their merry way. Katie ran up to Johnny’s band to congratulate them. Trent saw her first, and she said, “You guys were fantastic!” Still shy, he smiled softly and nodded, then said “Thanks” in a voice so quiet Katie could barely hear him over the din in the gym.

  Riley and Johnny, however, were as loud as could be. Riley gave Johnny a high five. “That was awesome!”

  Johnny replied, “Did you see all the girls? We’re gonna get laid tonight! Take your pick, man!”

  Katie fe
lt the blood drain from her face. Crestfallen, she steeled herself. How could she tell her best friend she had a sudden love for him when his plans were to have sex with the cutest-looking, most available slut nearby? She couldn’t. She bit the inside of her cheek as she felt hot tears form in the corner of her eyes. She forced a smile and tackled Johnny from behind, hoping she would look and could act like her usual self, because she didn’t know that she could pull it off.

  He turned around. “Hey, buddy! So, what’d you think?”

  Katie kept the too-wide smile plastered on her face. “You guys were great. I had no idea you were that good. You’re professional, Johnny, all of you.”

  He hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. Then he pulled away but lowered his head to look her straight in the eye. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

  Katie was pretty sure Johnny did get laid that night, and probably by more than one girl. At least that was the rumor floating around school. She tried not to think about it. And she tried to keep it a deep, dark, buried secret, but she loved Johnny as more than a friend from that point on until the last time she saw him, pale, weak, and sickly, darkening her doorstep, a broken man.

  Chapter Four

  “WHAT HAVE YOU been up to since I saw you last?”

  Katie wasn’t prepared to tell Johnny the whole truth. Not yet, anyway. She played around with her salad and finally stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork. “Well, you already know I bought a house. I did that this spring. I have a huge garden in full swing this summer that I hope I can keep up with. I started volunteering at the animal shelter last year. They’re working toward being a no-kill shelter, and having volunteers helps out. You know, less money on salaries. And—uh—well, you know I became a vegetarian. I actually did that about two years ago.”

  Johnny started pouring another glass of beer and interrupted her. “So what the hell inspired that, Miss American?”

  The waitress showed up at the table with two pizzas. “Careful,” she warned, and slid Johnny’s onto the metal table stand. Katie’s small pizza sat on the table on top of wooden pizza peel. The waitress set one plate in front of Johnny and another next to Katie’s salad. She smiled. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Johnny looked at Katie who shook her head. “Nope. I think we’re good. Thanks.”

  “Enjoy.”

  Katie took a deep breath and slid a tiny slice of her pizza onto her plate. “Well, I made the choice for dozens of reasons.”

  Johnny used his spatula to slide two pieces of his pizza onto his plate. He tilted the plate toward Katie, the discs of pepperoni curled up on the pizza, tiny bowls for the orange grease inside them. “But how can you say no to this deliciousness?”

  “Easily.” She took a bite from her pizza. “And if I were really good, I’d give up cheese too. But I just can’t.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Katie managed to explain to Johnny all her rationale for changing her diet for health, ethics, and environmental reasons. And even though Johnny teased her, he respected her decision and enjoyed their conversation. By the time she was done talking, Johnny had polished off the pitcher of beer but neither of them finished all the pizza. When the waitress asked if they wanted a to-go box, they turned her down. Katie excused herself to the women’s room. Fixing her hair in the mirror, she decided she would tell Johnny about Grant as soon as she came back out. He had to know. That wasn’t something you kept from a friend. When she exited the restroom, she spied Johnny at the cash register. She caught up to him and saw one of her co-workers walking in the front door, ending her chance (and courage) to tell Johnny about Grant. “Hi, Kate. Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Hey, Gail,” she said to the brunette in front of her. “Gail, this is an old, old friend of mine, Johnny Church. Johnny, this is Gail Taylor.”

  He smiled and extended his hand, grinning in that charming way of his. “You might know me as J. C. Gibson.”

  Katie smiled. “Trust me. She doesn’t.”

  Gail frowned. “What’s that?”

  “His stage name. But you might know him because he’s a hometown boy.”

  Gail started giggling. “Kate. You know you’re at least five years older than I am. I don’t think so. I don’t really know any other people as old as you.”

  Katie smiled weakly. “Heh. Well, see you at work tomorrow.”

  Gail’s date approached her from behind, and the waitress finished at the register to lead them to a table. Johnny opened the door for Katie. He lowered his voice and said, “Another ma’am moment, huh?”

  “Yeah. They’re coming a little too often for my taste.”

  Johnny sighed, playful. “Well, I guess that’s what you get for calling me your ‘old, old’ friend. And for not giving credit where credit is due.” He laughed as they walked to his bike.

  “Come off it. It’s not you, and it’s not your age. Gail listens to country music. Trust me when I tell you she has never heard of you, and it’s not because you’re not awesome.”

  Twilight had descended upon the town but the night was still young. Katie put her jacket on and Johnny handed her the helmet again. “What next, milady?”

  * * *

  “And heeeeeeeere’s Johnny who’ll be singing some Stone Sour!” The deejay cranked up the music for “Say You’ll Haunt Me” as Johnny jumped up to the mike. The two had arrived at Suds an hour earlier. Johnny had ordered another pitcher and talked Katie into drinking with him. She didn’t want beer, though, so she sipped a rum and Coke. Johnny had been spending the better part of the hour trying to talk Katie into doing karaoke but she refused. That was his game, she told him. So he turned in his slip (and didn’t pick any of his own songs to “play fair,” he said) and finally had his chance.

  Katie didn’t miss the fact that Johnny wasn’t looking at the words on the big screen high up on the wall behind her. Katie could tell he knew them all. And he was singing them to her. She didn’t miss that either. He was having a lot of fun, but it made her feel a little bit like she was under a microscope. Johnny was the ultimate showman and entertained the whole place, sang for the whole bar, but the song was for Katie. She knew that much.

  When he was done, a guy near the bar yelled, “Yo, J. C.! What the hell are you doin’ here in little old Winchester?”

  Johnny’s face split into a cocky grin and he waved his customary two-finger salute. He yelled into the microphone, “These are my digs, man. I’m home for a while!”

  So now that the jig was up, the man walked toward them, still shouting (too drunk, Katie surmised). “So is it true, dude? Did Scathing V. break up?”

  Johnny half-frowned. “Yeah, it’s true. But keep your eyes peeled for my next venture.”

  “Who should we look for?”

  “J. C. Gibson, man. That’s all you need to know. And it’ll be the best thing I’ve ever done. I promise.”

  The crowd roared. Most of them were glad to see a hometown boy come back, that he hadn’t gotten too big for his britches. If only they knew, Katie thought. When he’d first “kicked the dirt of this town off my boots,” he didn’t want to use his real name. He used his initials—J. C.—and combined them with Gibson to represent his favorite guitar. It was all Johnny wanted to be known as. Over the years, though, he’d come to miss home. His mother still lived there, and so did his best friend, and he realized that his fondest memories were formed in Winchester. As he grew up, he realized it wasn’t so bad. But most of the town had long since forgotten that his real name was Johnny Church, and most people addressed him as J. C.

  He finally sat down next to Katie. “So much for a quiet night out with my friend, huh?” She smiled at him. “We can get their minds off me if you sing.”

  “No way.” The deejay called up the next victim, and Katie felt bad for him. No one should have to follow Johnny, because anyone would pale in comparison to him. He’d been on a stage for his entire adult life. No one else in that bar had a chance. Fortunately, the new guy was sing
ing a rap song, so there was less to compare.

  “So tell me,” Katie said, sipping from her drink, “why haven’t you ever fronted your bands?”

  “You think I could actually do it?”

  “Yeah.”

  He grinned. “Maybe. But no way. Too much pressure. Besides, I love the guitar. You know that. And I’m pretty well known anyway. I mean, how many people think of a guitarist when they think of a band?” Katie started to shake her head. “Not many.” He emptied the beer glass in front of him and then filled it up again, draining the pitcher. “How many guitarists are known by name? Not many either. But you have them. For every ten nobodies out there, you have a Randy Rhoads, Angus Young, Steve Vai, Slash, or Zakk Wylde. Or J. C. Gibson.” He placed the pitcher back on the table. “So why should I mess up a good thing by hogging the mike?”

  “Because you’re good at it. You have an awesome voice.”

  Johnny took another long drink. “You’re just saying that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “So let’s hear yours.”

  “Uh-uh. No way.”

  “Come on, Katie. I’ve heard you sing. You have great pipes.”