Faster We Burn

energy was almost too much to take. I was afraid it was going to crush me and then it ended.
    “Not bad, not bad. What did you think?” Stryker turned to me and everyone waited for my response.
    “Wow. That was…Wow. What song is that?”
    “‘Beat the Devil’s Tattoo’, by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club,” Ric said, leaning back against Baxter. “Ever heard of it?” I almost laughed at her attempt to make me feel like a moron.
    Yes, I was intimidated in this foreign environment, and yes, I wanted them to like me, but I wasn’t going to get into some sort of stupid girl fight. She had no idea how easy she was to read. Despite her attempt to show everyone that she was totally into Baxter, her eyes never strayed far from Stryker. She was jealous.
    “No,” I said, giving her a sweet smile. “But I really like it.”
    “Be gentle with her. Her musical education is in the beginning stages,” Stryker said, giving her a look. “Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s true. We need to wean you of your Swift addiction.” Jesus, listen to one song and you’re branded a fan. Not that I wasn’t a fan. I’d just denied it when Stryker had asked.
    “Hey man, don’t disrespect the Swifties,” Allan said with a serious face. “They are a force to be reckoned with.”
    “We, are never, ever, ever getting back together!” Perry sang in a loud, off-key voice which made everyone laugh.
    “That’s gold, man. You just don’t understand,” Allan said, shaking his head sadly. “You get it, right Pinky?”
    “Oh, I get a nickname?” I said.
    “Everyone who joins The Band gets a nickname,” Perry said. “Especially if your real name sucks.”
    “So you’re saying Katie sucks?” I said, turning to him. He was paler than Lottie, as if he spent all day in his basement, but he had deep brown eyes and the cheekbones of a model under a mop of dishwater blond hair.
    “No, I wouldn’t say that it sucks. It’s just really common. So is Christopher, which is my real name.”
    “Nice save, Per,” Stryker said, giving him a thumbs up. “So you want a drink before we do another?”
    “Yeah, sure,” I said.
    “Okay, take five,” Stryker said in a mock serious voice. Everyone broke up, and some went outside to smoke while Stryker took me into the kitchen and handed me a beer from the fridge. I felt Ric’s eyes following my every move.
    “So what do you think?” he said as I popped the top and took a swig. Beer wasn’t really my drink of choice, but I wasn’t going to turn it down.
    “You guys are amazing. I feel intimidated by your talent.”
    He grabbed another drink and leaned against the counter.
    “Are they what you expected?” That was a loaded question.
    “Honestly, I was expecting more tattoos, scary guys with motorcycles and girls who looked like they could rip my spleen out with one hand.”
    He raised his pierced eyebrow. “So you thought my friends would be scary?”
    I leaned next to him on the counter, our shoulders touching, and sighed.
    “I don’t know. Are you mad at me?” I swirled the bottle in my hand.
    “Hey,” he said, bumping my shoulder lightly. “Do you think I’m scary?”
    “Well, the first time I met you, you did have fake fangs on, sooo…” I bumped him back.
    “Haha,” he said. “That is true.”
    “I’m not scared of you,” I said, lying through my teeth. I was terrified of him, but not in the way he thought. I was scared of how I felt around him.
    “I’m not scared of you, either.” Our eyes met and I thought he was going to kiss me, but a voice invaded our moment.
    “Hey, Stryk, do you think you could give my engine a look? It started making this noise on the way over, and you know that Baxter wouldn’t know a spark plug if it bit him on the ass,” Ric said with a little grin, appearing out of absolutely nowhere.
    “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.” He touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Don’t get scared while I’m gone.”
    “I won’t,” I whispered back. Ric saw the exchange, and gave me the briefest of glares before turning on the charm with Stryker again.
    “Soooo, Pinky. Where the hell did you come from?” Allan said, coming back in with the smoking group.
    “Just ignore him,” Zoey said, going to the fridge. Out of all the girls, she was the least ‘modified,’ and just had a nose ring and had her light brown hair chopped into a messy bob. “That’s what I do.”
    “Oh, come on Zo. You know you want me,” he said,