Alice in La La Land, page 1
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
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About the Author
Published by Bluefields Creative
Copyright © 2024 by Kelly Oram
1st Edition ebook
Edited by Jennifer Henkes
Cover art copyright © Joshua Oram
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Sixteen Kisses by Kelly Oram
All Cassie Caldwell wants for her sixteenth birthday is to finally be kissed. When Cassie’s older brother and his best friend—the lovable, sexy cowboy, Jared—discover her secret, Jared takes it upon himself to make sure her birthday wish comes true.
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For all the dreamers out there. Reach for the stars.
Chapter One
My first original song rocks, and no one will ever hear it besides the three of us in this room. Adrenaline pulses through me as I wail out the final notes on my electric guitar. I belt the last lyrics, pushing my lungs to the limit, as the drums crash their finishing beat behind me. And then there’s nothing but silence. It settles heavily over the room, which had just been shaking from the force of the music. The only sound is the three of us panting for breath in front of our microphones.
“Holy Hannah!” my best friend and bass guitarist, Lexie, shouts. “We nailed that!”
Matt, our amazingly talented drummer, stands up and stretches. “Hell yes, we did.”
As he lifts his arms above his head, the hem of his white tank rises up to show a thin stretch of tight abs. The hint of skin is not lost on Lexie. I smirk at her, and while Matt’s not looking, I motion to the corner of my mouth like I’m telling her to wipe her drool. She glares at me and flips me off. I laugh.
I love these two people more than anything in the world. It’s amazing that I’ve only known them for a semester. In our small Texas town everyone knows who everyone is, so I’d seen them around, but we were in way different social circles.
Lexie and Matt are both total goth/punk rocker types. Lexie has short, spikey silver-white hair; black lips; and an eyebrow ring. She never leaves the house without her black leather jacket. Matt favors wife beaters and leather pants. Combined with his bulging, tattooed arms; electric-blue hair; and septum piercing, he’s both hot and intimidating. The two of them couldn’t look more different from me. I’m the preppy All-American girl-next-door with long, blonde hair curled in perfect ringlets; standard ear piercings; and minimal makeup.
On the inside, though, we’re kindred spirits. At the beginning of the year, they found me in the park playing my acoustic guitar and singing. I’d been letting off steam after an argument with my mom. They asked me if I only played acoustic. I admitted I also played electric, and the rest was history.
The first time we got together, they’d been shocked that someone as vanilla as me could rock as hard as I did. They haven’t let me go since. When they realized my innocent smarty-pants Goody Two-shoes persona was not my choice, they took it upon themselves to save me from my oppressive mother—even if we have to do it in secret.
Matt grabs a Coke from the mini fridge and slumps down onto a ratty old sofa. His parents let us practice in the detached garage behind their house. Out here, we’re far enough away that we don’t disturb them. It’s a bit dingy and drafty, but it works. “I’m pretty sure having our own original song officially makes us a band.”
That’s not the first time Matt has tried to turn us from three friends jamming for fun into a legitimate band. It’s not that we don’t all want that. But when the lead singer can’t tell anyone she’s in the group, it sort of ruins the whole performing thing. Is a band that can’t perform really a band? That’s been the debate since we started playing together.
Lexie grabs her own soda and chucks me a root beer. She kicks Matt’s legs off the coffee table so she can squeeze past him and drops down beside him. “We need a name.”
Matt stretches his arm over the back of the couch and shakes his head. “What we need is a gig.”
I open my soda and sigh glumly. “Like we could pull that off in this gossipy little town without my mom finding out.”
“End-of-the-year talent show,” Matt says. “You don’t need parental permission to sign up. Plus, it’s a school function, so she can’t say no, and it’s a week before graduation. What’s she going to do? Ground you? You’ll be eighteen by then.”
I fall into a chair that’s as old as the sofa, with springs poking my back and holes in the armrests. “You don’t understand how determined my mother is. If she finds out we signed up, she’ll know about the band. She’ll realize I’ve been lying to her all year, and she’ll make my life miserable. She will ground me until I leave for college.”
“So we won’t add your name when we sign up. She won’t find out until it’s too late.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Lexie says.
She makes puppy-dog eyes at me, and I almost give in. But I can’t do it. My mother wouldn’t just ground me, she’d disown me. “I wish I could, but you don’t understand how crazy my mother is.”
Lexie sighs, and Matt shakes his head, assessing me with a calculated stare. “We have all semester. We’ll talk you into it.”
Secretly, I hope he does. I’ll never be brave enough to defy my mom on my own.
“Now can we talk names?” Lexie whines. “Gig or not, we’re still a band. We need a name.”
“It has to be something cool,” I say.
“Something ironic,” Matt adds.
The two of them start throwing out names. I wish I could be as excited as they are, but a familiar stab of guilt pricks my chest. I don’t love lying to my mom, but I don’t have another option. My music is important to me. It’s who I am. My mother has never understood that and likely never will. Once she learns what I’ve been up to and how long I’ve been lying to her, she’s going to be so disappointed in me.
Matt pulls me from my thoughts. “Al, stop frowning. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Except lying to her.”
Lexie groans. “You’re in a band. It’s not like you’re stealing or doing drugs or getting pregnant.”
She’s right. And that’s how I justify sneaking around behind my mom’s back when I know she wouldn’t approve. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it, though. My whole body deflates. “I wish she would lighten up since all my college applications are in. Now she’s going crazy about scholarship applications and deadlines.”
“Let me guess. Harvard, Yale, Princeton?” Matt says dryly.
I nod. “And Stanford, Columbia, and Duke.”
Lexie scoffs. “Do you actually want to go to any of those schools?”
“Are you kidding? I’d rather light my hair on fire.”
“Apply to USC with us,” Lexie says. “As a backup.”
“Just in case you find your balls before next fall,” Matt jokes. Lexie whacks him on the back of the head for me.
“Matt and I both applied there,” Lexie says. “They have one of the best music programs in the nation.”
“Plus, it’s in Los Angeles,” Matt says. He slurps his soda and lets out a loud burp. Lexie and I both roll our eyes. A gentleman Matt is not. “If you come with us, we could keep the band together and go to auditions and stuff when we’re not in class.”
“If only it were that simple.”
“It is,” Lexie says. “You’re almost eighteen. It’s your life. You should be able to do what you want with it.”
“I should. But going against my mother like that would break her heart. She’d disown me, and she’s the only family I’ve got. I’m not sure I can let her down like that.”
“Does she know how talented you are?”
“She doesn’t care. LA is evil. Music is a waste of time. I’ll never make it. Blah, blah, blah…”
“No offense, but your mom sucks the fun out of everything.”
I sigh. “She means well.”
Matt, having ignored my mama drama, says, “We should book a recording studio in Houston to record a demo.”
Lexie snaps her fingers, liking the idea. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. We could use that to apply for scholarships.”
“Or we could book an agent or a manager,” Matt says. “Skip college altogether.”
I shake my head. “I get how that’s tempting, but you shouldn’t skip college. You can play, sure, but there’s so much more to music and the business of the industry.” Plus, if I went to USC with them and majored in music, my mother might forgive me someday. If I didn’t go at all, she would never speak to me again.
“Fine. You can go to college for all of us, and Lex and I will book the auditions and stuff.”
“And how are we affording our rent in this non-college scenario?” Lexie asks. “Without college, there’s no scholarships or student loans.”
Matt makes a face and waves off Lexie’s concern. “We’ll do it the same way every other aspiring musician in LA does it. We’ll wait tables, serve coffee, or become porn stars.”
Lexie and I burst into laughter, and Lexie whacks him with a throw pillow. “Trust us, no one wants you to become a porn star.”
Matt huffs. “Please. The ladies love me.”
I laugh again. “Whatever you say.”
“They do!”
Matt chugs the last of his soda and slaps his knee. “All right. Break time’s over.” He checks the time on his phone. “We only have fifteen more minutes before Alice turns into a pumpkin. I want to go through the new song a few more times.”
Neither Lexie nor I argue. I may be the frontman because I’m the best singer, but Matt is our leader. This band was his brainchild, and he’s the best at keeping us on task.
Lexie and I finish our drinks and make our way back to our instruments. “Let’s go over the bridge,” I say, pulling my guitar strap over my head. My guitar settles in place in front of me, and that rush of feeling comes back. “I want to tweak the harmony there. Something about it still feels off. What do you guys think?”
Lexie straps on her bass, and Matt settles in behind his drums. He twirls his sticks in his hands. “You’re the genius songwriter. If you think it’s off, it’s off.”
My lips quirk into a small smile. We played covers for months before I got brave enough to share my songs with them. They freaked out over the originals and demanded to learn them. This is the first one we’ve played together, and it sounds better than I imagined. Not that we have any plans to showcase it. Maybe they’re right about the school talent show.
“You guys ready?”
Lexie and I both nod to our drummer, and he holds his sticks above his head. “Let’s do this. One! Two! One, two, three, four!”
The three of us fall into a rhythm. We’re like a well-oiled machine. We all love music, and it shows. I don’t know exactly what it means to Lexie or Matt, but for me it’s an escape. My mom has always been difficult. She means well, and I have no doubt she loves me, but she demands a lot. Perfection, really.
Maybe it’s because she’s a single mom and I’m her only child, but she micromanages my life. She expects me to follow the path she’s laid out for me, whether it’s what I want or not. In fact, she’s never asked me what I want. I don’t think it matters to her. I’ve always felt stifled, but when I listen to music, or write songs, or play my guitar, I let go of it all. I can forget my mother’s dreams and imagine the life I wish I could have.
I push away thoughts of my mom and simply play. Playing has always cleared my head.
The lights in the garage flicker on and off, pulling me out of my trance. That’s how Matt’s mom gets our attention, because it’s too loud for us to hear her when she comes in. We all stop playing and turn toward the door. My stomach drops all the way to the ground. Matt’s mom is not alone. Mrs. Stevens gives me a bright smile, completely unaware of the fury radiating off the woman next to her. “Alice, you have a visitor.”
The blood drains from my face as I meet my mother’s fuming eyes. If my guitar weren’t strapped to me, I’d have dropped it the moment I saw her. “Mom!” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”
“You haven’t answered your phone for an hour. I was worried. I didn’t realize you were at band practice and probably couldn’t hear it ring.”
I search my pockets and wince when I realize I left my phone in my backpack across the room. Usually, I keep it on me for this exact reason.
Her face turns red, bordering on purple. I’ve never seen her so angry. I’m in so much trouble. “You told me you were with a study group.” Her voice is low, but it’s shaking with rage.
I can’t think of a single thing to say. There’s not a defense in the world that will talk her down.
“It is a study group,” Matt says. “We study and practice music. We want to go to USC and major in music. If we can record our songs for a demo, we might even have a chance at scholarships.”
I cringe, and Lexie groans.
Bless Matt’s heart. He’s trying to help. But he just made things a lot worse. Mom’s eyes flick to him and then to Lexie as if she’s seeing them for the first time. And she is. I’ve never brought them over to my house before. I wanted to keep this secret life away from my mom at all costs. It’s too special to me. Too important. Mom takes in my friends’ leather clothes, piercings, tattoos, and unnatural hair and purses her lips. She’s not trying to hide her disdain. Not even with Matt’s mom standing right next to her.
“My daughter is not going to USC to major in music. She’s better than that.” The amount of disgust and haughtiness in her voice would be impressive if I weren’t so angry and humiliated.
Lexie moves to stand beside me. “She’s talented, Ms. Liddell,” she says quietly. “She has a gift.”
Mom sneers. “I don’t care if she’s the best there ever was. My daughter is not going to become a musician. The entertainment industry is worthless. Los Angeles is a cesspool of evil where you have to sell your soul to succeed. You children might want to waste your lives like that, but Alice will have no part of it. Alice!” she snaps, fire burning in her eyes. “Let’s go. Say good-bye to your friends. You won’t be coming back here.”
Tears of frustration well in my eyes. I’m so angry. Her hatred of the thing I love most in life is infuriating. And to treat my friends like that? I want to scream. I want to rip my hair out. I want to defend them and myself, but I won’t do it in front of them. I don’t want them to hear the insults my mother will sling their way.
I hand over my guitar to Lexie. “Keep this with you,” I murmur. “I don’t trust her not to sell it or break it or something.”
As she takes the guitar, her eyes convey her sorrow. It’s not pity, but she’s sad on my behalf, and it’s touching. “You should stand up for yourself.”
I shake my head. “It won’t make any difference.”
Matt comes over to us and wraps me in a hug. “We’ll figure something out,” he whispers with so much conviction a lump forms in my throat.
Lexie gets in on the hugging action, and the two of them squeeze me so tightly I gasp for air. “I’m sorry, you guys.”
“We love you, Al. Stay strong. This isn’t over.”
When they pull back, I grab my book bag. I head toward my mom, but I ignore her and surprise Matt’s mom with a hug. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stevens. Thank you for letting us hold our practices here. Your support has always meant the world to me.”
