Boy Band (10 page)

“At least I picked up my dirty underwear,” he grins.

“Yeah, and I’m only detecting a hint of old sweat socks.”  I’m only somewhat joking.  I’m telling you, twenty-year-old guys are not charming.  Like, at all.  Not even the super dreamy celebrity guys.  They stink just as much as any other twenty-year-old guys.  Heck, they probably stink worse because they think they can get away with it.  

But hey, at least he changes his underwear.  

“That’s man smell, baby.  Take a good whiff.”  Sam laughs, acting a lot more like himself now that he’s away from Tara and her trash talk.  

“But why do men have to smell like wet bath towels?”

“Why do women have to smell like flowers?”

“Because everyone likes flowers.”

“What if someone’s allergic?”

“Then I’d think they’d like the flower perfume more since they can’t stop to enjoy the smell of the actual flower without sniffling or sneezing.”

“What if someone’s allergic to the perfume?  What if they’re allergic to everything?”

“Then they should probably see a doctor and get some steroids or something.”  

“Oh.  I was going to suggest they outlaw perfume,” Sam remarks, flopping down onto his bed.  

“I thought guys liked the smell of perfume,” I say, taking a seat next to his head.  

“Guys like the smell of new cars and bacon.”

“So, you’d rather a girl smell like machinery and breakfast food than flowers or coconuts?”  

Sam shrugs.  “I don’t really care.  As long as she’s got a good personality.”

Good to know.  

“So, would you date a girl who smelled bad?” I ask.

“I mean, I’d rather she bathe every now and then, but she doesn’t have to smell like Super Sweet Seduction, or whatever those fancy perfumes are called.  As long as she’s a decent, down-to-earth person and I don’t have to hold my nose when I’m around her, I think we’ll get along pretty alright,” Sam says, smiling up at me from his back.   

“Are you going to return the favor and bathe every now and then?” I ask.

“Only when my pits start to mildew.”  His grin is cheeky and mischievous.  

“Ew!  Okay.  We’re done here.” I hold my hands up in surrender.  

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he announces in some weird monster voice and grabs my foot.  

“No!” I shriek and pull both my feet away from him.  I’m so, so, so ticklish, especially on my feet.  And he knows it, so he shows no mercy.  

“What about you?” he asks, probably realizing that I could very well kick him in the face if he tried to tickle me.  “What do you look for in a guy?  I mean, aside from him being a drummer?”

“For the last time, I do not have a thing for drummers!”

“Okay, okay,” he grins.  “Seriously, though.  I don’t know if you’ve ever told me what you really think about dating.”  

Uh, yeah. That’s because if I were to talk about it, he’d realize that I was describin
g
hi
m
.  Honestly, though, I don’t know how I’ve gotten away with it for so long.  Maybe it’s because I’m so open with my celebrity crushes (like the hot Irish guy).  Or maybe it’s because Sam has been operating under the assumption that I’m asexual.  Whatever the reason, I’ve always been pretty good at dodging the What-Do-You-Look-For-In-A-Guy question.

Until now, that is.  

“Well, I definitely like a guy with good hygiene.”  And do you know what Sam does?  He laughs. He actuall
y
laugh
s
.  Granted, I meant it to be a bit of a joke, but seriously?  The boy is rolling around and holding his sides because he is laughing so hard.  This is not funny. 
“
Wha
t
?” I demand.

“Of all the qualities that matter to you in a significant other and you go fo
r
hygien
e
?”  

“Yes!  I know you like to joke about it, but honestly, can you imagine dating someone who didn’t wash their hair?  Or brush their teeth?”  I shudder at the very thought.  

“Okay, fine. I guess hygiene isn’t th
e
wors
t
quality you could have come up with,” he acknowledges.  “What else?”  Why? Why couldn’t he have just been satisfied wit
h
hygien
e
?

“Well...” Okay.  This could get tricky.  Just stay calm.  Keep it together.  Most importantly, remain totally neutral.  “He’s got to be able to make me laugh.  I couldn’t be with a guy who wasn’t funny.” 

“See, that’s better.  Hygiene.  Pfft.  Hygiene is for the weak.”  

“No, hygiene is for the man of my dreams.” Of course, he doesn’t know it, but h
e
i
s
the man of my dreams, and apparently, he scoffs at hygiene.  

“So, I guess that means that we’re all out of the running,” Sam remarks lightly.  

That one little comment just about gives me a heart attack.  What exactly is he asking me?  Is this his way of wondering if I’d ever consider dating one of them?  Or more specifically, him?  No, he’s probably just joking, or teasing me for having such ridiculously high standards.  Wanting a man who showers regularly and doesn’t smell like a gym bag.  Imagine that.

Still, the longer I sit here in silence, the sooner he’s going to realize that I am, in fact, hiding something and that the truth is that I would date him in a heartbeat if he asked.  

But what does h
e
wan
t
me to say?  Oh, buck up, Pal.  You’ve still got a chance.  More than a chance if you catch my drift.

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.

“Don’t sell yourselves short,” I finally say. “Your hygiene isn’
t
horribl
e
.”

“I feel like you’re only saying that out of politeness,” Sam laughs.

“Hey, when you shower, you smell amazing.”

“Well thank you, Miss Parker.  That means a lot, especially coming from you.”  Okay, now I know he’s teasing me.  “But seriously, how would you feel if one of us wanted to date you?”

Why is he pushing this?  Is it because of what just happened with Tara?  Or is he fishing around for one of his bandmates?  Oh, God!  Please don’t let that be the case.  I don’t think it is.  Cory sees me as a sister.  Oliver likes Joni.  I’m not nearly hot enough for Jesse.  Josh is a huge flirt, but he flirts with everyone!  Besides, the girls he usually goes for are the spunky, sporty type, which I am definitely not.  I’m more into scarves and coffee shops and cool photographs.    

That just leaves Sam.  I guess it could be possible that he thinks of me as more than a friend.  I mean, we are totally alone in his hotel room.  But he’s my best friend.  It’s not like this is a first or anything.    

So why am I having such a hard time being honest with him?  I want to tell him.  I should tell him.  Maybe if I told him and he felt the same way...

But what if he doesn’t?  That would be so embarrassing.  Worse, he might begin to feel awkward and uncomfortable around me, and that’s the last thing that I want.  The entire world is expecting something from him.  He is in the public eye no matter what he does.  There are very few people he acts like himself around, and I’m honored to be one of those people.  I don’t want to lose that because I misunderstood his intentions in asking me how I would feel about dating one of them.

Being a girl is so confusing.  

“I don’t know,” I tell him.  I wonder if he can hear my voice shaking.  I definitely can.  “It - It’d be a little weird, don’t you think?”

To be totally honest, I have no idea why I just said that.  It’s like while my brain was debating what it wanted to say, my mouth decided to just spit out whatever the heck it felt like.  And for the record, whenever my mouth decides to act on its own, it usually ends up getting me in trouble.  Or at least into a situation that I will more than likely end up regretting later. 

For instance, by insisting that dating one of the guys would be, and I quote, “a little weird,” I may have inadvertently sabotaged any minuscule chance I had of becoming Sam’s girlfriend.  Yay me.  

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees.  But is he agreeing because he thinks that’s what I want to hear, or because he agrees that it would be weird if I dated one of them?  

Unfortunately for me, it’s probably the first one.  I’ve been told on more than one occasion that guys don’t think like we do.  Where we will over-analyze and examine every word, breath, movement, and detail, guys tend to think more along the line.  For example, they wouldn’t give a second thought about the same two-worded text message that would send a girl into a massive spiral of panic and excruciating self-doubt.        

Of course, Sam is the one whose best friend is totally lying to his face about being in love with him even though he’s told her on multiple occasions that she’s one of the few people that he trusts to always be honest with him.  

On the other hand, guys just might have it harder.  They have to put up with us.  

I guess that awkward answer has effectively ended our conversation about dating since Sam props himself up on his elbows and reaches for the remote control.

“So, what do you want to watch?” 

⋯

Note to self. Late night talks about relationships combined with two hours of zombie flicks make for a terrible, and I do mea
n
terribl
e
, night’s sleep.

For one thing, it took me forever to get to sleep because I was obsessing over what I’d said to Sam about how it would be weird to date any of them and how he probably interpreted that (re: I think it would be weird to dat
e
hi
m
).  For another thing, once I finally did manage to fall asleep, I had zombie and dating nightmares all night.  

In the first dream, Sam had asked me out on a date and of course, I’d said yes, but he’d turned into a zombie right as we were about to kiss, so that sucked.  Then during the second dream, all of us - the guys, Joni, even Tara - were barricaded inside this small run-down shack in the middle of nowhere.  We knew that zombies could be out there anywhere and it wasn’t any sort of the fun that Sam thinks it would be.  It was all terrifying.  That dream ended with Josh actually turning into a zombie and me having to be the one to kill him.  Of course, I didn’t have a gun so I actually had to find a long metal rod to impale his brain with.  

Let me tell you, it was really awkward seeing him at breakfast this morning.   

Tonight, the guys are performing at a music charity gala to benefit arts and music education across America.  It’s something they’re wildly passionate about, even Oliver, who only spent a few years of his education in the American public school system.  They all insist that those classes really sparked their interest and inspired them to do well in school.  It’s an issue that I’m afraid tends to get overlooked in the grand scheme of things.  After all, there are arguably far more important problems to address.  

But when you think about it, a nation’s students are its future.  The kids of today are tomorrow’s leaders and visionaries.  They need a well-rounded education, not a system where making the grade is all that matters.  Who cares what they memorize if they’re not actually learning?  That’s something that worries me about the decline of the arts in education.  Students are treated more like numbers and data instead of young human beings with working, independent minds.  That’s why music and art and literature are so important.  They remind us of what we can accomplish with a little passion and dedication.  

The event tonight is a fancy black-tie affair.  All the guys are wearing designer outfits that all probably cost more than my childhood home.  Okay, maybe I exaggerate, but even after two years, I still can’t get used to the lifestyle that comes from associating with the rich and famous.  That being said, the guys do look pretty amazing.  Sam especially.  He’s in black skinny slacks, a loose white button down shirt, and a charcoal grey vest. The rest of the guys are dressed somewhat similarly.  They have a little say in what they wear to these kinds of things, but a lot of their wardrobe comes directly from their stylists.  

Joni and I, on the other hand, have a little more freedom.  She’s chosen a traditional little black dress and strappy stilettos that could probably put someone’s eye out if she’s not careful.  Joni is actually quite coordinated.  I’m the one who has to watch wear she steps.  I wouldn’t go all the way to say I’m a klutz, but I have yet to figure out how to walk in heels without looking like a drunk toddler.  For that reason, I am in white flats tonight.  They go well with the white flowing dress I’m wearing.  My hair is tied up in a loose, elegant bun with gold and white headbands.  Joni told me that the outfit makes me look like a Greek goddess, which is a pretty awesome compliment.  

If I’d had any doubts about Oliver’s crush on Joni, they all melted away after I saw the way his jaw dropped when we met the guys down in the lobby of our hotel.  The way he looked at her was adorable, and she’s so completely oblivious.  Now that we’re actually here at the benefit, he keeps stealing glances at her.  I might have to talk with him about this.