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by Anne Malcom
I laughed. “I’m sure it will be, but parties aren’t exactly my scene.”
Sam looked utterly confused at this concept. “Parties are everyone’s scene,” he exclaimed. “You’ve got drinks.” He held up a finger like he was preparing to list the qualities. “More than often, no parents,” he said holding a second finger up. “Girls, music, and drinks,” he continued, holding up four fingers. “What’s not to love?”
Noah pushed his shoulder. “Bro, think of the girls you encounter at those parties, then think of Lexie,” he instructed. “You think she has anything in common with them?”
Sam scrunched up his nose for a moment. “Other than the fact she’s hot? I guess not.”
Noah nodded and his gaze moved to me. “Don’t worry, babe, that’s a compliment. I’m not going to waste brain cells by going to that party either.”
Sam’s face fell. “What? You’re not coming?” He turned to Wyatt. “Bro, please tell me the world makes sense and you’re coming?” he pleaded.
Wyatt grinned. “Of course I’m coming.”
Sam looked to the heavens. “Thank you,” he whispered.
I looked to Noah. “If you’re not going to this fabulous sounding party, want to come to movie night with me and Mom?” I asked. “I can promise a lot of sugar, a lot of C grade action movies, and almost constant commenting on said action films.”
Noah grinned. “Sounds like fun, I’m in.”
I beamed back. Noah was the quietest of them all and I worried about him. Even though he hadn’t told me I was now certain he was gay. I was certain that no one knew. I also knew he had a hard home life. His mom ran out when he was a kid and his dad was no peach. If he was any fruit, he’d be rotten to the core, judging by the black eye that had only just faded on Noah’s attractive face.
He’d shrugged it off when I expressed horror, but the boys had hard faces. Sam didn’t have a grin anywhere in sight when he’d turned to me.
“Noah’s dad’s a fucking asshole,” he’d clipped quietly in my ear.
Needless to say, I wanted to give Noah as many chances of staying out of his place as he could. And I genuinely liked spending time with him. Loved it in fact. I loved all of these boys. Already.
“We on for another practice tomorrow, Lex?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I’m completely down,” I replied, leaning against the sofa. Anything that would let me escape into the vortex that music offered me was welcome. Anything that helped me forget what happened this morning, that stopped the tears that seemed to be constantly at the back of my eyes.
I glanced to the boys. “As long as you don’t have any other plans?” I added, noting we had spent ungodly amounts of time together.
“Like what?” Sam asked.
“Like working on that English Lit paper that’s due Monday?”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Homework? On a Sunday?” he declared in disgust. “No. As long as I have time to sleep off tonight’s beers, I’m in. How about we grab lunch at The Point?”
The Point was one of the few grills in town. Lots of kids from school hung out there. It had great burgers.
“Sounds great,” I said, smiling.
“Righteous.” Sam grinned, hoisting his rucksack on his shoulder.
I walked with them to the curb, making plans for tomorrow and telling Noah what time to come over.
“Have fun tonight,” I told them with a grin. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Sam laughed. “Can’t promise that, Lex, but I’ll promise to have fun.” He winked and got into the car.
Wyatt leaned in to give me a hug.
“Take care of him,” I instructed in his ear.
Wyatt grinned at me. “Always do.”
“See you tonight, Noe,” I said to Noah.
He gave me a chin lift and all the boys folded into the car, tooting the horn as they sped off.
I smiled after them and my gaze moved across the street. I beamed at the open garage door and the huge form I could see in it.
“Zane!” I called out and jogged over.
I hadn’t seen Zane around in what felt like ages and I needed to commence my matchmaking activities between him and Mom. I hadn’t even heard how the cake went. It was that and I actually liked Zane. It seemed I forged instant connections with everyone in this town. The boys, Killian, and Zane.
“Hey, Zane,” I greeted when I made it to his garage where he was working on his bike. It was a cool bike. I didn’t know much but I knew it was a Harley and was pretty badass.
“Lex,” he grunted out, nodding at me.
Most people would probably be put off at his monosyllabic greeting, but I didn’t miss the slight softness at the edge of his eyes.
“I hope the noise didn’t disturb you. We put soundproofing up, as not to brass off the neighbors, but I’m not sure how effective it is,” I explained. I chewed my lip, hoping if he did hear us that he didn’t think we were a complete mess. His opinion meant a lot to me. “Mom can still hear us from the kitchen,” I continued. “I know because she texted me a draft of my Grammy acceptance speech.” I met Zane’s eyes, realizing how arrogant that sounded. “As a joke,” I added quickly. “We’re just a high school band. We aren’t even that good yet, but Mom’s delusions have us set for stardom.”
Zane stared at me for a moment, his face blank. “A band?” he clipped, zeroing in on one statement.
Mental forehead slap. I’d been babbling about the band and he knew nothing about it. I nodded quickly, moving to touch one of the handlebars on his bike. It was the first time I’d even touched a motorcycle.
“Yeah, you see those guys leaving before?” I asked, referring to the boys.
Zane nodded curtly.
“That’s my band,” I exclaimed with a grin. I frowned when I realized I could only call them “my band” as of yet. “We still have to think of a name. It’s kind of a sticking point between the guys,” I explained, thinking of the few arguments Noah and I already had to mediate. I shrugged. “Creative minds and all that.”
Zane didn’t answer, but that didn’t worry me. I wandered around his sparse garage, looking for something that would tell me more about him.
“You should come and listen to us once we get a little better,” I offered, thinking of my matchmaking mission. I could even see if I could con him into staying for dinner. A dinner that I cooked, not Mom. I actually wanted him to like her, and her cooking would not make him like her. It may poison him. I reconsidered this. “Or maybe when we get our first gig,” I added, thinking that might be safer. My eyes caught something that sparked my excitement. “Hey!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t know you played!” I grinned at an old Fender case resting in a corner, gathering dust, which was sad considering what a great instrument it was.
There was a long pause. “Long time ago,” Zane explained, his voice rough.
I turned to regard his blank face. I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. Something I didn’t understand but I recognized.
Pain.
I smiled at him. “You should come and play with me some time,” I offered shyly. Music helped cure me of whatever pain I’d had in the past. Granted, nothing bad had ever really happened to me. Something had happened to Zane. I couldn’t even think of what since my life didn’t give me anything to measure that look in his eyes up to, but I guessed it was bad. I thought of something else. “Maybe you could even teach me some things,” I mumbled, brushing some of the dust off the case. “Mom couldn’t afford to get me regular lessons, especially after she bought me my guitar, so I’ve mostly taught myself.” Then I realized what that sounded like. “YouTube’s great,” I added quickly. My eyes cut to him. “But it would be cool to learn off a real, live human being.”
It would be more than cool. I’d get to spend time with Zane, and maybe get to know him enough to help him realize how awesome my mom was. I wasn’t completely selfless; I enjoyed Zane’s company. He was part of Killian’s family too, a part of the Sons of Templar. M
y stomach dropped thinking of that, of Killian. The boy who most likely didn’t want to know me anymore.
“Yeah, kid, all right. Maybe,” he answered, focusing his eyes back on the bike.
I grinned, full on beamed, inside and out. The heaviness in my stomach thinking of Killian was momentarily forgotten.
“Really?” I asked. “That is aces, Zane! I’m free, you know, whenever. Well, apart from when I’m obviously at school. But anytime after that. Seriously. Whenever suits you.” Excitement made my voice speed up to how I talked with Mom. No regular people could normally understand me when I got like this.
Zane must have understood at least some of it because he nodded again.
I didn’t mind that he didn’t answer; I liked it actually. I wandered over to the space where he was sitting by his bike, looking at it for a second before sitting on the cold concrete.
Zane’s blank gaze flickered in surprise before he masked it.
“You mind if I sit here and watch for a while?” I asked, my voice quiet and no longer filled with excitement. “Sometimes I just need a bit of quiet after the music makes up all the noise in my head.”
I needed quiet more than anything at this moment. I needed the silence that Zane’s presence offered. Thinking of Killian was not something I wanted to do.
Zane nodded silently once more, turning his attention to his bike. I sagged in relief at the fact he didn’t tell me to go away. I didn’t think too many big and scary bikers really liked hanging around with stupid teenage girls, but Zane was different. I knew that.
It was nice, welcome, the time I spent watching him tinker with his bike. I wondered if this was what other girls did with their dad’s, sat with them while they did something, comfortable in silence.
I yearned for something like that, something I knew I’d never have. But Zane gave it to me, for that short amount of time.
Once I reasoned he’d be sick of me watching him, I stood to leave, loathe to let the noise back in, but knowing it was inevitable.
“Heard you,” he stated, breaking the silence. His blank face met mine. “The band, you’re good.”
I beamed at him and felt the warmth of his words all the way home. It lasted a while, but not long enough.
Killian invaded my mind the moment I found myself back in my room and didn’t leave the entire night Mom and Noah argued over which action stars would win in a death match.
I was afraid he’d never leave my mind. I’d be haunted forever.
The only way to quiet my mind was to write after the movies had finished and Noah had left.
“Lexie, can I talk to you a second?” a sickly sweet voice asked.
I paused, counted to five, and took a deep breath. “Sure, Stacy,” I said, closing my locker so I could see her face. “What’s up?”
She tightened her ponytail and bit her pink, glossed lip. “It’s kind of... awkward,” she began with false nervousness. “It’s about Killian. You’re with him, right?” she asked with a light tone, conversational. Only I knew every word she was saying was carefully chosen.
My stomach dropped at her question. I didn’t miss the glances and not so subtle barbs she threw my way when she could and the way her eyes followed Killian from across the cafeteria. I really didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that after this weekend I didn’t think we were anything. I didn’t want to admit it to myself either.
“What about Killian?” I asked instead, my hands tightening around my books.
She moved her wedged heel closer to me slightly, her eyes darting around as if she was divulging national secrets. “Well,” she started, her voice only slightly higher than a whisper, “I honestly normally wouldn’t say anything, you know, poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
I used all of my effort to hold in my snort of disbelief. Instead, I stayed silent.
“But, it kind of does belong, since I’ve had... experience with Killian before.” She looked me up and down. “Like I said, I wouldn’t normally even go here, but you seem like a nice girl. I wouldn’t want you to fall for Killian like so many other girls did and then get hurt when he kicks you to the curb.”
I guessed so many other girls translated to her.
I couldn’t restrain my irritation anymore. “Spit it out, Stacy,” I snapped, surprised at the sharpness of my voice.
Stacy was obviously surprised as well because her head reared back slightly and she raised her eyebrows. The look of fake concern rippled on her face a moment, revealing the smugness underneath. “I just wanted to tell you, that as soon as Killian gets what he wants... you know”—she gave me a meaningful look—“you’re dust. You become invisible. He’s only after one thing.”
She opened her mouth, no doubt to spout more false friendship and concern crap. I had no patience for it.
“Maybe he is only after one thing because you only give him one thing,” I informed her. “Now I appreciate your concern. You’re a true friend. But I’ve got to get to class.”
I didn’t even wait for my words to filter through her hairspray and into her brain. I pushed past her and stormed to my next class.
I was fuming. I had never talked to anyone like that before. Been outright rude. My mom might have been eccentric in her child-rearing methods, but she’d always taught me to be polite. She’d also taught me the importance of having a backbone. I wasn’t going to let the resident bitch—every school had at least one—try to sabotage whatever there was with Killian.
If there was even anything.
Which, after the weekend, I doubted would be anyway.
That’s where my mind was the entire morning, thoughts swirling around my head. Stacy’s words were like slow-working poison. They had hurt at the start, but the logical part of my brain had shoved them aside as weapons of a woman scorned.
I was anything but rational when it came to Killian, I was discovering. So I chewed them over my entire history class. I may have had little to no experience when it came to boys, but I knew what Stacy was alluding to.
Sex.
I’d never had it, obviously. I’d never even been kissed. Not properly. A couple of sloppy and inexperienced boys didn’t count. I knew the mechanics of it. And the specifics. My mom had me at fifteen; she gave me my first sex talk when I was twelve. She had urged me to be sure, to be absolutely sure for my first time. I was lectured on every kind of birth control on the market and Mom had insisted I come to her before I did anything. She’d also urged me to be celibate until I was thirty. That was something I knew wouldn’t happen, but I hadn’t considered it happening anytime soon. It didn’t bother me; I didn’t think about it like most girls my age did. I’d sometimes wonder idly about when my first time would be, but it was hard to give it specific thought when no boys showed interest in you.
Until now.
Killian hadn’t even kissed me yet. He’d had opportunities. Plenty. But he hadn’t. Why hadn’t he? Did he not think of me that way?
The thought chilled my blood. I knew he thought of us more than friends, and I sure as heck did. I wanted to kiss him more than anything. I was desperate to touch him, have his arms around me. I wanted more than kissing. At some point. Way in the future.
I found myself in the hallway, on the way to the cafeteria without even really remembering most of the morning. I had functioned on autopilot, my mind running a thousand thoughts a second.
My step stuttered. The cafeteria. The possibility of Killian. Of seeing Stacy stare with satisfaction if he ignored me. I couldn’t do it.
I turned on my heel with the intention of going to the nurse’s office to fake some sort of bug when I almost collided with a tall body.
“Whoa, Lexie, you almost bowled me over,” a voice joked, hands going to my upper shoulders to steady me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, my eyes meeting Jordan’s.
He shrugged. “No big. I’ve been hoping to run into you, just not literally,” he said with twinkling eyes.
I smiled weak
ly, unable to muster up any effort to engage in witty banter.
“I’m going to beg, in fact,” he continued, “for your help on this English lit paper. I’m seriously screwed. I’ll get down on my knees if you want.”
I couldn’t help but grin genuinely. “Jordan, the English lit paper is due last period.”
“I know. That’s why I think the universe is showing me pity, putting you in my path. If you could sacrifice your lunch to help this poor shmuck, I’ll be your slave for the rest of time,” he said, eyes pleading.
I perked up. “Maybe the universe is looking out for both of us,” I muttered, my eyes on the cafeteria doors.
“What?” Jordan asked, confused.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “The library’s this way, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I pushed his large body away from the cafeteria.
Jordan’s eyes brightened. “You’ll help me?”
I nodded. “We’ll help each other.”
Jordan may have been grateful for our meeting, but I doubted he’d be as grateful as I was. I’d never been happier being someone’s tutor.
****
I made it through the rest of the day without somehow running into Killian or Stacy, a miracle I thanked the universe for. Unfortunately, the universe couldn’t quiet my mind; I didn’t escape thoughts of them.
This turned me cranky. I was never cranky. I was a happy person. I had a happy life. It was always full of laughter, music, and books. I was angry I was becoming the girl who was sitting in class, not listening while she brooded over a boy. A boy she barely knew. Who she hadn’t even kissed.
“Lex, where were you at lunch?” Noah asked softly as we set our books down on our desks.
I sat down. “I was helping Jordan with his English paper,” I replied, my eyes on the front of the class.
There was a pause, a long one. I moved my gaze to see Noah regarding me with one brow raised.
“Jordan,” he repeated.
I nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“Since when are you and Jordan study buddies?”
“Since today,” I snapped, moving my attention away from his knowing gaze.