by A. m Madden
I remembered earlier in the year, after I had gotten my acceptance letter from NYU, Leila had taken me and Mom out for lunch. We’d chatted excitedly about college and my future. She’d smiled lovingly when I mentioned having an interest in art. It’d been something I’d considered lately, having fallen in love with museums Mom had taken me to when I was younger.
Still, I wondered how that dream could meld with Shane’s.
Chapter Seven
Shane
While sandwiched between a chronic sniffer and a dude who smelled like pot, I hadn’t stopped fidgeting since this thing started. For like the hundredth time, I twisted to look back at the most beautiful girl in the auditorium. Each and every time our gazes would catch, and her smile made me only more impatient in my seat.
Alivia should’ve been the person sitting right beside me, and not ten rows back just because our last names were far apart alphabetically. Stupid.
That mess of wavy hair made it easy to spot her amid the sea of royal blue. A tassel skimming her cheek had those blue eyes of hers glowing brilliantly. And the ridiculously oversize gown did little to hide the smoking-hot curves I knew were underneath.
After throwing her a wink, I tried to refocus on our principal, who had rambled on for far too long. This coming after that bitch Molly had also rambled on, torturing us and pretending to be the model valedictorian the entire school assumed she was. When she finally shut up, our diplomas were handed out and tassels moved from right to left… we were graduates. So why couldn’t they spare us any more agony and end this damn thing?
I glanced over to where my parents were seated in the audience along with Trey and Camilla. Oscar and Alec sat behind them, and our siblings sat in front, looking more bored than I was. Of course, our moms hadn’t stopped crying, prompting our dads to exchange glances over the women’s heads. I got it was a big deal to watch your child graduate from high school, but we needed to call it like it was… this ceremony was boring as fuck.
It was time to get on with the celebration. Our parents were throwing us a party tonight at Granite, one of the hottest spots in Manhattan. Alivia and I had invited about a dozen people from school, not giving a shit about the rest of our graduation class, who would be a distant memory in a few minutes.
The bar had been Devil’s Lair’s favorite place to hang over the years. Earlier in their careers, playing at Granite had helped them during their climb to fame. The band often paid them back by choosing to perform there for special events, while giving them tons of business.
I’d been there only once during a charity concert. The huge rooftop area with glass ceilings and walls made it a perfect backdrop for bands and artists to perform. Playing bass on that stage that night was a highlight for me. Standing on the same spot so many brilliant musicians had over the years had seemed surreal.
I’d played with my father’s band before, even in a large arena when I was only seven. Trey had just come back to Devil’s Lair after his meltdown and had wanted me beside him to play the first song I had mastered on the bass. It also happened to have been the first song my dad wrote for my mom: “Reason I Am.”
Maybe I’d been too young to realize the gravity of it all—a little kid playing bass in front of more than twenty thousand people. My memories stemmed from watching recordings of the performance and not from where my tiny ass had sat on a stool front and center on that massive stage. Even with that experience—and several more after that had been just as monumental—there was something about the intimacy of playing at Granite that made it more thrilling, for some reason.
The only thing missing that night was Alivia, who had been home sick and couldn’t come to the show. After watching a video of it, she had been so proud of me. Quite a few had begun their careers at what the music scene had dubbed the “launching pad to success.” I had plenty of connections in my life where I could’ve launched my own career in a blink of an eye. But I wasn’t interested in riding on Devil’s Lair’s coattails… being the kid who made it because of who his mommy and daddy were.
Screw that. My mark would be made because not only could I sing, but I fucking rocked a bass guitar better than any eighteen-year-old out there. Cocky but true.
Beyond the party tonight, we had so much to look forward to. This summer was going to be fucking epic. And the best part: once August came, it wouldn’t be dread I felt because it was coming to an end but excitement that Alivia and I would practically be living on our own. I couldn’t fucking wait.
Alone time had been a challenge for us. We hadn’t had much privacy since prom… and I’d had the chance to fuck her only one other time. The making-out sessions were nothing more than a cruel tease, and I desperately needed more. Just thinking about it had my cock swelling. Apparently, the shiny blue dress I had on over my black slacks and black briefs wasn’t enough fabric to keep it contained. I quickly focused on Mrs. Hallow sitting on the stage, and thankfully the tight gray curls and Easter-egg-purple dress she wore did the trick.
“On this profoundly important day…,” Mr. Trainer’s voice echoed around us, further helping to deflate the situation between my legs. “I commend you on all your accomplishments and all those you are yet to conquer. Let your dreams motivate you, let your hearts steer you, and let your minds push you to constantly grow. I know you are all capable of great things. It’s up to each of you to use your time on this planet to achieve them.”
Wrap it up… wrap it up… but instead, he began reciting a long list of names who had all contributed to our education.
“Ugh,” I muttered. “Fuck me.” When chronic sniffer glanced at me, I shrugged.
“It’s been a pleasure guiding you…” He paused theatrically. “Mentoring you, teaching you, watching you all grow into the fine young men and women you are today. You’ll leave here always having a piece of our fine institution in your hearts. You’ll leave here with connections that have brought you all together as a family. In conclusion, make your marks on the world and make us proud…” When he raised both arms in the air, you could hear a collective sigh of relief. “Congratulations to this year’s graduates of Windsor-Horne Academy!”
Instantly, my entire graduating class stood and tossed our caps into the air during thunderous applause. I barely waited for one of the blue squares to float back down before snatching it and pushing my way past the rest of the students in my row to beeline toward Alivia.
“Shane Lair! Get back to your place in line,” Mr. Martin barked when he saw me heading down the aisle in the opposite direction. But I ignored him. What was he going to do, suspend me?
By the time the first note of the “Graduation March” began to play, I had Alivia in my arms, prompting others to step around us.
“We did it, baby,” I said into her hair while she squeezed my neck tightly.
“Yes, we did,” she echoed, pulling back to look into my eyes with that brilliant smile lighting up her face. I couldn’t resist, and not caring that thousands were probably watching, I held her face and kissed her long and hard. Whistles and “Get a room!” comments were thrown at us, but surprisingly Alivia kept that smile against my lips while getting lost in the moment.
It was when Mr. Martin cleared his throat and poked my shoulder that she finally snapped back to our surroundings. “Okay, you two… move along.”
After having done what I had set out to do, I gripped her hand in mine and tugged her out of the row of chairs to fall at the very back of the line parading toward the exit.
The chatter continued, but two distinct voices projected over it as we heard, “Woo-hoo, Liv and Shane!” Alivia and I twisted to see two rock stars we knew well pumping their fists, hooting, and hollering in their places. As if they didn’t already stick out like soar thumbs among the sea of khakis and button-down shirts. And if their casual black from head-to-toe apparel didn’t set them apart, Trey’s tattooed sleeves did the trick.
Meanwhile, our moms shielded their eyes behind bent fingers, embarrassed over thei
r ridiculous spectacle.
“Yeah, baby!” I hollered back, raising my cap over my head in a victory pose. “Time to party our asses off!” A few parents with sticks up their asses tsk’d, but at least I got some chuckles from the lingering crowd.
Quickening our pace, I tugged her along until we joined the rest of the graduates outside. “Anxious, are you?” Alivia asked before shaking her head.
“Just a little bit.” I ignored the chaos around us as students hugged friends, and others searched for their families. Without a care in the world, I simply steered us away from the mayhem. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day?”
“Knowing you, since kindergarten,” she deadpanned.
“Yes!” It was true. Except for music class, gym, and lunch, I hated everything about school. “The tutoring, the cramming, the endless useless information that I’ll never use again in my lifetime… it was all stupid bullshit.”
Alivia shrugged. “And you have four more years of said bullshit coming to you.”
“Nah… that’s different. I’m there by choice…”
“Not really by choice. You’re only going to NYU because—” She stopped and shook her head. “Well, if it weren’t for your parents and me, you’d truly be done with school life.”
“Not true,” I argued. She didn’t look convinced when I went on to say, “It’s totally different. I’ll be playing with you and playing my bass whenever I choose to. That alone will make college a lot more tolerable.”
“Well, not all of us have a talent to fall back on, Mr. Rock Star in the Making.”
“You do.”
One perfect brow rose in challenge. “If you say something sexual, I’ll smack you.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to, but besides all that…” I released her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “You are the best girlfriend in the world. Takes talent to snag that title.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Nestling my nose against her ear, I whispered, “An idiot who loves you.”
“There they are!” I heard my mom’s voice projecting over all the others. Seconds later, our cheering section appeared, and Alivia and I were both engulfed in hugs before they all began talking at once.
After countless photos, more hugs from friends, including a long, sob-filled one between Kim and Alivia, I was ready to get the fuck out of there, ditch the dress, and start partying.
“You look so handsome,” my mom said, smoothing a hand over my hair. “Paula would be so proud of you.” Emotion shimmered in her amber eyes. It was times like this when she had my biological mother on her mind… as did I.
In an attempt to break the tension, I pulled away and put up a hand to block her. “Mom. Stop. It took me ten minutes to get this look.”
Dad laughed. “That’s eight minutes more than you usually spend on your appearance, and it looks the same.”
“Ha ha.” I began fiddling with the silver dog tags Alivia had given me as a graduation gift. They had our initials and birthdates engraved on them, as did the bracelet I had given her. It wasn’t an accident that our presents coordinated… my idea.
“Excited or something?” my father asked, grinning when his gaze landed on first my hand and then my bouncing knee.
“Very.” Why deny it? I’d been bouncing as hard as my knee since we got home from graduation. Alivia had a hair appointment with her mom. Chase was still in school until next week. So that left me with nothing to do but wait for this very moment.
When Alec pulled the stretch limo in front of Alivia’s building, Dad called Trey. “We’re downstairs.”
“On our way,” Trey’s voice came through the speaker.
Unbuckling my seat belt like a five-year-old arriving at the toy store, I said, “I’m going to wait for her inside.” As the car idled at the curb, I hopped out and walked into the lobby.
The concierge on duty’s head snapped up at my approach. “Mr. Shane. Congratulations.”
“Hey, Walter.” He extended a hand once I reached the desk he sat behind. “Thank you.”
“Exciting times for you and Miss Alivia. Ah… the summer after I graduated was one of the best in my life,” he admitted with a faraway look in his eye. “That was the year I met the Mrs. at the beach. We’re together fifty-three years this August.”
“That’s a long time.” I couldn’t imagine being that old.
“It sure is. And most of it was wonderful. Of course, learning to say two magical words helped.” A grin had his chubby face becoming even more animated. “Yes, dear,” he admitted without being asked, and then fell into a round of hearty chuckles that echoed around the marble-tiled lobby.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The elevator’s dinging announced its arrival, holding Trey and Camilla. Dressed much like me in his uniform of black jeans, a black button-down, and black Doc Martens, Trey gave off a very different vibe from that of Camilla’s floral dress.
“Shane,” Trey said with a smirk.
“Uncle Trey,” I mimicked, causing the corners of his lips to twitch. “Where’s Liv?”
“She’s coming. Trestan accidentally got peanut butter on her dress.”
“Oh, that can’t be good.”
“You didn’t hear them arguing down here?” Camilla smiled as she followed her husband.
A few minutes went by before the other bell rang and Alivia stepped out of the second elevator.
“Holy shit.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from bulging. Sure, she looked beautiful as always, but she didn’t look like my Liv.
The short black dress stopped midthigh and may as well have been skin colored as it molded over her curves. Red heels had those legs going on forever, and on her wrist was the bracelet I’d given her.
But it was the other changes that made her almost unrecognizable. Normally she wore her wavy hair long and messy. Tonight, it hung in a silky straight curtain around her bare shoulders. The makeup she had on was a touch heavier around her eyes, and her normally pink-tinted lips were shaded in a much darker red that I imagined wrapped around my cock.
I couldn’t take my eyes off my girl. In fact, I was shocked silent, to which she misunderstood by saying, “You hate it.”
“No!” I was quick to respond before fingering a thick strand of hair. “You just look so different. Your hair…” Again, whatever it was she heard that was causing a frown wasn’t how I meant for her to hear it.
“I decided to straighten it and—”
“Forever?” I asked abruptly. Her mouth gaped before she folded her arms, pushing her tits up to reveal more of them. “Um… I mean… it looks great. Is it permanent?”
“No. It’s a keratin treatment.” I had no idea what that was and was afraid to ask. Nor would I give the slightest hint even if it was temporary how much I’d miss those wild waves. Instead, I pulled her into my arms. “Liv, you look smoking hot.” When she didn’t seem convinced and only nodded, I prompted, “Why are you upset?”
“I’m not. I guess this”—she waved a hand down her torso—“is way out of my comfort zone, and I’m regretting it now.”
“Why did you do it if you regret it?”
“For you,” she said as if it were obvious.
“Me? I think you’re beautiful even when you have that gross green shit you sometimes put on your face and you’re wearing mismatched pajamas.” Again, I received a disbelieving huff. “What?”
“Just forget it.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door. A quick glance at Walter revealed a sympathetic expression as he mouthed “Yes, dear.”
I had no idea what was going on. Hopefully, once we got to Granite, she’d loosen up a bit. This was so unlike her.
Thank Christ the drive across town went fairly quickly. I just hoped her mood improved by the time we got to the party. She did seem less tense in the car. I had to thank our moms for most of it, first complimenting and then distracting her from whatever had been on her mind.
While Alivia was deep in discussion
with my mom, and our dads were rambling on about a drug test one of their signed musicians had failed, I shot a quick text to Kim to see if she knew anything. The responding text said more than just her “Don’t worry about it” implied.
Kim… tell me.
The bubble on my screen bounced a few times and then stopped.
KIM!
My second forceful demand resulted in a screenshot that appeared to be a conversation between Molly, Taryn, and some girl named Judy.
Can you imagine? Molly’s bubble said. He’ll be all smoking hot on the cover of magazines, and there she’ll be looking like she does. Does she even comb that mess?
That explained everything. My blood boiled so violently it practically blurred my vision, making it hard to read the new text from Kim, which appeared under the first one.
I hate this chick, and I only told you because I’m tired of her crap. I don’t care if Liv gets mad at me for it.
Have you seen what Alivia did? I asked.
No. I know she said she needed to make a change.
Well, you will soon see that change and now it makes sense.
Ever since Jett had asked Molly out, I hadn’t heard of any more nonsense involving that bitch. Stupid me assumed my solution of pushing them together would put an end to her bullshit. Well, there was no fucking way he would walk away with his little prize at the end of the summer if he didn’t handle her through it all.
How did you even get this screenshot?
Judy sent it to me and Liv. Molly screwed her over, uninviting her to a party at Jett’s place tonight. So I invited Judy to yours. I hope that’s okay.
Yep. I’d be having a conversation with this Judy chick at some point during the night.
“Who is that?” Alivia asked.
“Chase checking on where we are,” I lied, typing back to Kim: Don’t say anything to Liv about telling me. I’ll handle it.
How?
I’ll talk to Jett. This won’t come back to Liv. I’ll make sure of it.
