Junior Year Box Set

Of course not. We were just moving into takeoff position.

“Yeah, at this speed we’ll never get off the ground,” I said.

“Hey, shut up. You’re freaking her out,” Red said.

That was when we began to accelerate down the runway. If I’d known how scared Amy really was, I would have never teased her. She let out a scream that about made me deaf. I grabbed her hand.

“Look at me,” I ordered her. “We’re fine.”

She took a deep breath, and our eyes locked. That was when we lifted off.

“Look out the window. We went fast enough,” I said and smiled at her.

Amy peeked out, then let out a long breath and began to shake. When we reached altitude, Red switched seats with her and the girl with black hair give her a pill. Whatever it was had her asleep in no time. They should have given that to her before she boarded the plane.

I put my earbuds back in, turned on my music, and settled in for a long flight. When the stewardess brought me a drink, I looked at Red, and she smiled at me.

“You seem familiar,” she said.

“I have a movie coming out. You might have seen an ad for Star Academy.”

“I’m Jett,” she said, offering her hand.

“David.”

“We’re going to LA to sign with a label,” she said.

“That’s what Amy said. What’s the name of your band?” I asked.

“That’s Not Toothpaste.”

I wrinkled my nose. Jett threw her hands up.

“It sucks, right? I told them that was a terrible name. I wanted to call us ‘Stop Laughing!’ but they don’t like it.”

“That’s not good either.”

She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper that had a list of band names on it. Most were terrible. Then I saw ‘Birthrite.’

“I like that one,” I said as I pointed at it.

“Birthrite’s not bad,” she admitted.

Jett told me that the girls in the band had met at a Catholic high school. The group had talked their parents into giving them a year to see if they could make a go of it. If they didn’t make it, they would go to college. Things hadn’t gone as expected, and the band had struggled. Then they’d played at an open-mic night at a local restaurant and were discovered by a talent scout. The next thing they knew, they were offered a trip to LA to sign a development deal. I noticed she didn’t say anything about making a CD.

“So, what do you get with a development deal?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Jett asked.

“Are they going to have you cut a record and promote it? Or are they going to have you play at some bars to see what you can do?”

Jett looked concerned.

“I don’t really know,” Jett admitted.

I remembered what had happened to Eve Holliday when she made her first try at Nashville. She’d gotten tied into a shady manager who kept her doing bar gigs so he could make money. He never seemed to come up with a record deal. Honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was play the white knight and come to these girls’ rescue. After all, I didn’t even know them. But Jett’s eyes showed the same desire to make it that I’d seen in the eyes of my ‘Country Girl’ when she left for Nashville.

“Do you have an agent?” I asked. “Someone who knows the business and can advise you?”

“No. Do you think an agent would even talk to us? I thought that was what the record label would do,” Jett said.

I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my numbers. The only music agent I knew worked for Tom Dole.

“Take this number. This is an agent who represents a friend of mine. Her name is Angelina Hargrove; she goes by Angel. Give her my name and ask her to help you. At the very least she can look over your contract and explain what they’ll do for you,” I explained.

“Do you believe she can help us?”

“Angel used to find talent for Stone Mountain Records. She now represents talent, so she’d be someone you could talk to who knows both sides of the business, and she’ll give you good advice. You might even want to hire her to be your agent.”

Jett then wanted to know about me. I explained why I was going to LA. By the time we landed, we’d agreed that when they had their first gig, I’d come and hear them play. I gave her my number and honestly thought I would never see her again.

◊◊◊

Fritz found me at the baggage pickup area. I was embarrassed when we had to get a cart to get all my luggage to the car. Halle had packed for me, and I knew better than to reject anything she put into my garment bags or suitcases. She didn’t pack any of my athletic gear or anything for just goofing off. I ended up having to borrow my parents’ luggage to get everything I wanted to bring.

“I don’t believe Halle had this much,” Fritz said.

“Who do you think packed most of this?” I shot back.

We both recognized there was no sense in arguing about it. Fritz insisted on pushing the cart.

“David, we need to get something straight. While you are the guest of Rita James, I need to treat you as if you’re one of the family. I work for them. That means I’ll handle your bags, and when we get to the car, you’ll ride in the back seat. I realize you’re not used to that, but I must insist.”