I sighed.I’d totally walked into that one.I should’ve seen it coming.Lark was nothing if not tenacious.“Can we talk about this later?If I don’t find that snare ASAP, I won’t even have this job.”
“And then you’ll have to listen to me.”Lark smiled, her eyeteeth shining much like a vampire who’d tricked a victim into their trap.
Son of a bitch.
“What did you do with my snare, Lark?”
“Just promise me you’ll think about it.Seriouslythink about it.”
I scowled at my former friend.“What I’m seriously thinking about right now is murdering you if you don’t give me that snare.”
“Fine.”She sighed and stepped away from the corner she’d been standing in.Conveniently right in front of a stack of missing snares.
“You’re lucky I love you.”I stomped across the room, grabbed one of the snares, and headed for the door.
“Love you too, Eeyore.Don’t forget what I said!We’ll talk about it at practice later!”
I would’ve waved a hand at her, but mine were currently full of a snare that everyone was waiting for onstage.Eh, hand was too generous.I would’ve waved a certain finger at her, but I couldn’t afford to drop the drum.
Everything was hanging by a thread as it was.
“Finally!”Noah snarked as I walked to the back of the stage.“We’ve been waiting fucking ages for you.”
“Sorry,” I muttered as I hurried to change the drum out.I didn’t have to look to know that Noah was looming behind me.
Like Gandalf, I could sense the presence of a dark force.And Noah was the darkest presence in my life currently.
Ass.
“If you need to have a tea party with your girlfriends, could you wait untilafterchurch is over?”
I rolled my eyes at the tea party reference.Like I hadn’t heard a variation of the same literally my whole life.So original.But what did I expect from Noah Hawker?
There was a reason why the ass didn’t write songs with the guys.No one would ever accuse him of having a way with words.
I ignored him looming over my shoulder and finished setting up his drums.
One more twist of the stand, and I was done.I pushed up from my crouch and gestured grandly to the empty stool.“Your throne awaits, milord.”
My snarky tone told him exactly what I thought of him and his annoying comments.
Noah gave a huff and stomped to his stool.He sat down and beat his sticks around for a few minutes, long enough for me to slowly slink backward toward the edge of the stage.
“Nope.I don’t like the level.It feels off.Needs to be—” He ran his sticks over the drums again.“Shit, I don’t know.Higher I think?”
Huffing in irritation, I stomped over to stand next to him.
He didn’t move.
“I can’t fix what’s not wrong if you don’t move.”
“That’s like three negatives.Impressive.You’d give Oscar the Grouch a run for his money.”
“What can I say?I’m a pessimistic kinda girl.Growing up in foster care will do that to ya.Now, move your ass.”
Noah’s squinty eyes followed me as he pushed back from his drums, letting the stool roll away but still staying on it and so freaking close to me.So close I swore I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.
Shrugging off the sensation, I eyeballed the drumline.Everything looked right to me, but my opinion wasn’t worth a damn.I twisted the base and adjusted it less than a quarter of an inch in height.
