“I think both of you have good points.  It’s annoying that we haven’t performed some of things that we’ve written, but we also don’t have anything recorded and playing our own stuff could be weird because no one can buy it.” Dana said.  She hated the tensions that could arise when the band got together.

“What do you think, Bette?” Alice asked, but Bette wasn’t paying any attention, “Bette?”

“Hmm?  What?”

“God, where are you today?”

“I’m sorry.  Just thinking about things.  I’m okay with whatever you guys decide.”

“What’s up Bette?  You’ve been so distracted.”

“Oh, nothing…”

“Bullshit…” Shane said, under her breath, “I’m serious, have you met someone?”

“What?  No!”

Dana took a seat on the floor, “Yeah, you have.  I know when you lying.”

“What’s her name?” Alice asked.

“Helena.” Bette couldn’t stop the smile from her face, “She lives across the hall.”

“Do you like her?” Shane asked.

“Yeah, she’s really interesting and we have a lot in common.”

“But she can’t distract you from the band, okay?” Alice started, “Remember: Homies over Ho’s.  Okay?”

Bette rolled her eyes.  Helena was so much more than a whore.  Bette wanted more than to get into her underwear.  She wanted to take things slow—very slow.

Rehearsal lasted for a few more hours, going through a set list of 10 of their favorite songs to perform—including two songs of their own.  They played through them twice before the girls were too tired to continue.

**

The night of the show, Helena brought her friend Brant with her to watch Bette’s band play.  Brant was the son of a family friend.  He and Helena grew up together and viewed each other as siblings.

The pair took a seat in the front row of the club.

“Have you ever seen them play?” Helena asked.

“Yeah, I have.  They’re really good.  Their lead guitar is sexy.  I think her name is Bette.”

“Bette is the girl who lives across the hall.”

“Do you…”

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to bone her?  Is that why we’re here tonight?” He nudged her.

“Oh my God, no!  I mean, yes, but I want to take things slow.  I just met her.”

“When have you ever taken anything slow, especially when it comes to women?”

“Fuck you, Brant.” Helena said, jokingly as the lights became low.

She watched as the band took the stage, Bette’s frame becoming clearer to her.  She was already entranced by her.  The way her black wife beater and jeans hugged close to her body was more than just a turn on for Helena.  It was an aphrodisiac.

“Good evening.” Bette spoke into the microphone, “We’re Jane’s Brawn and this song is called I Want You.”

The music kicked in and Bette’s voice soon followed.

“Kick back on track, pick me up some bottles of brew.  Fickle freshman, probably thinks she’s cooler than you…”

There was so much emotion in Bette’s voice that Helena felt her tugging on her heartstrings.

Bette was magnetic and Helena was like a piece of precious metal completely drawn to her.