But between the close call with my beer and the thought of seeing the Fiery Boys in concert again, half my buzz was gone. I was on high alert. I swear, they're my favorite band.
Now I knew what most people thought about the Fiery Boys. Just a manufactured band of sixteen-year-olds who burst onto the scene ten years ago, hit the top of the charts for a while, then slipped off into obscurity. And all that was true.
But if you'd gone to high school with Kira and me, you'd know how incredible that band once was. These weren't some mellow kids harmonizing in squeaky prepubescent voices. The Fiery Boys were hard rockers, with a lead singer who howled like an angry lion. Their drummer was probably the most gorgeous man on planet Earth. In fact, all of them were pretty hot-they'd been selected for their appeal as well as their ability to rock. They were magnificent.
The Fiery Boys ruled during my last two years of high school. There wasn't a kid in my class that didn't love their pounding beat and intense lyrics. One of their theme songs, "Fiery Life," got me through some really tough times. So no matter what others might have said, I knew that the Fiery Boys were the most important band in the known universe.
Well, my known universe, anyway. And interestingly, the band broke up at the same time as my life did. Because of that, I never really had a chance to mourn them. Suddenly, I had more pressing issues to deal with. Besides, when you're dead, you're dead-and the Fiery Boys were dead. Or so I thought.
I hopped up and down and latched onto Kira's arm with both hands. "Really? The Fiery Boys are back? I'm in!" I turned to Jo. "Kira and I were totally in love with them."
Kira looked up from her phone, now much less manic but still far from calm. "Remember how we'd play their videos and dance all night?" She gave a nostalgic sigh. "Too bad they broke up so quickly. What was it? Two years, three albums, then they were done." She shook her head. "Not enough. I blame Danielle for breaking up the band. Buck really blew it when he married her."
I laughed. "You always liked Chuck best. But Buck was on my short list, along with River."
I had posters of River and Buck in my bedroom. The bigger poster was my absolute favorite Fiery Boy: River Sticks, the drummer. Shaved head and sexy as hell, his poster hung above my desk where I could see him when I studied and at night from my bed. Anytime I needed a boost, all I had to do was take one look at his ripped body, deep dark eyes, and breathtakingly chiseled features. Pure animal energy seemed to shine from him, spilling out over his drum kit and right into my heart. When I was really in the zone, I could hear him grunt as he pounded those skins. God, how I wanted him.