by Emily Lowry
The world slowed down as he moved towards me.
I couldn’t breathe.
The door swung open without a knock.
“MOM! TREY IS GOING TO KISS THE GIRL!”
28
Hailey
Chair legs screeched against peeling linoleum as we gathered around the kitchen table. Trey’s mom — who insisted that I call her Rayna — set a casserole dish in the center beside a bowl of rice and veggies. My stomach complained again. When was the last time I ate? And when was the last time I ate something that wasn’t delivered to my front door? I didn’t want to think too hard about that answer.
“You go first, Hailey. Help yourself.” Rayna said.
“Is it ‘cause she’s a lady?” Trey’s little brother asked.
“It’s because she’s our guest,” Rayna replied.
I smiled a thank you at Rayna before serving myself, then waited for everyone else to serve themselves before I started. The food was delicious. It tasted, for lack of a better term, healthy. I always thought it was so cheesy when someone said that the secret ingredient was love, but the truth was, there was a world of difference between food that you paid for and food that someone made for you because they wanted to.
“So, Hailey. Trey talks highly of you.”
My eyes alight with interest, I turned to Trey. He talked to his mom about me?
“All I said was that she’s a cheerleader,” Trey protested.
“Something he’ll never let me forget,” I said.
Rayna laughed, her eyes sparkling, and looked at Trey affectionately. She loved her boys.
I gave Rayna a brief history of my time on the cheer team, culminating in our big tournament win last fall. Adam hadn’t been happy — something about if the football team lost, then everyone lost. I was only allowed to be successful when he was successful, and even then, my success could never overshadow his. Wanting to get the conversation off myself, I hastily changed the subject.
“What about you? Trey mentioned you’re a brilliant singer.”
Rayna chuckled. “My son likes to hear the sound of his own voice.”
“Probably got that trait from you,” Trey said, smirking.
Rayna laughed.
“As a matter of fact,” Trey said, “mom is an incredible singer. She was the headliner at Evermore’s first music festival. First concert I ever went to.”
Rayna paused and set her fork down. “That… that was a good concert.”
“I remember dad put me up on his shoulders so I could see. And there was mom, on stage. She sang so well it was like the crowd was under a spell. You remember the storm?”
“Never seen anything like it,” Rayna said. Her face was dreamy, faraway.
Trey’s eyes lit up. “Storm clouds came down from the mountains. Out of nowhere — it had been clear blue skies all day. Cloud comes over the festival, and rain just starts pouring. In five minutes, the entire place is a mud pit. But you know what the crazy part is?”
“Here he goes,” Rayna said, “exaggerating.”
I leaned towards Trey, thoroughly entranced.
“I’m not exaggerating,” Trey said. “No matter how much rain came down, no matter how cold it got, not a single person went for the exits. They all stayed to hear my mom finish her set.”
Rayna put a second helping of casserole on Trey’s plate. “I suppose they wanted to get their money’s worth.”
“They wanted to hear you sing.”
“My boy’s got an imagination,” Rayna said. “But it was a wonderful show.”
“Why’d you stop?” I asked. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized it was a mistake. I wasn’t a genius, but I could put two and two together.
Rayna, ever gracious, deflected. “Life gets in the way. Wanted to spend more time with my boys. That’s what’s really important in life, you know — family.”
“That’s sweet,” I said, mostly because I didn’t know what else to say. I knew Trey’s dad wasn’t around. But I didn’t really know why. I also knew that he had an older brother. A single mom with three young boys? Even if she wanted to keep singing, she never would’ve had the chance.
Was that how Trey felt, too? He always said he needed to prioritize his music. To put it above everything. Was this why? Was he afraid of ending up in a similar situation to his mom, where life took him away from the music he loved so much?
“You should finish up,” Rayna said. “Go on to Prohibition and see how Lucy’s doing. I hear there will be quite the show tonight.”
“Why don’t you go?” Trey said. “I’ll stay home with Isaac.”
Rayna laughed and cleared the table. “I’ve already got plans with Isaac. You two go. Life is meant to be lived — especially for the young.”
I jumped to my feet. “We’ll help you clean up.”
“That’s okay—”
“Seriously, it’s the least I can do,” I said. I carried my plate to the sink and ran it under hot water. “And thank you so much for supper.”
“It was my pleasure.”
29
Trey
She had been in my house. I’d let her in — let her go where no girl had ever gone before. And now I was exposed.
I was sitting outside Hailey’s mansion in my van, waiting for her to get changed for Prohibition. Sitting outside the sprawling mansion, I realized our worlds had collided. It was more painfully obvious than ever how different they were.
My mom loved her — I could see it all over her face.
But what did Hailey think?
She seemed to take it in stride. How poor we were. How dumpy our house was.
And we almost kissed. Right there, on my bed. The image of her gold-flecked eyes, staring into mine as I pulled her towards me, was hard to put out of my mind.
Hailey Danielson had done nothing but surprise me since the day she burst into my life, unannounced. The rich girl, the cheerleading captain, the pretty, perfectly made-up face — they were just a mask. The real Hailey was buried underneath.
Was I falling for her?
I looked up to see her running out of that cold, empty house, dressed in a short black skirt and a sparkly top. She had a mischievous grin on her face.
I leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“Hey,” she said, slightly breathless.
It took everything in me not to put my arms around her and kiss her right there and then.
Instead, I gunned the engine. I felt embarrassed for a moment, hyper aware that she had seen a part of my life I was so good at keeping hidden.
“Trey?”
“Yeah?”
“Your family is awesome. I love your mom and Isaac.”
“I think they like you more than me.” Isaac had practically followed us out the door when we left.
“Good,” Hailey said. Her face relaxed like she had just found out she passed an important test. Instead of caring about where I came from, she was worried about what they had thought of her. Crazy.
Another surprise from the Rich Cheerleader’s corner.
“Thank you, Trey. For taking me there.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes.
“I know you said you don’t write songs about girls, but do you ever write about your life?”
The question jarred me.
“No,” I snapped.
Hailey looked at me questioningly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“My life is private, Hailey. The last thing I want to do is express how I feel in a song. I ain’t got no time for that. People don’t need to know about my family, or what I think about a girl.” My grip tightened around the steering wheel.
To my surprise, she nodded. “I understand. My family situation is all too public and I feel like everyone judges me for it.”
“My dad left.” I blurted the words out with the abruptness of a hiccup. “I was young. Looking back, it was good. He wasn’t good to us. Wasn’t good to my mom. He left to who knows where and we nev
er heard from him again. Isaac doesn’t even remember what he looks like. Sometimes I’m not sure I do, either. My mom works so hard for us to have what we do, and I just want the best for Isaac. My stupid older brother is always getting himself into trouble and acting just like my freaking deadbeat dad. I will not let myself turn out anything like them.”
Hailey reached for my hand and wound her fingers between mine, squeezing gently. “You won’t.”
30
Hailey
Prohibition was a medley of jazz, cheers, and clinking glasses. Trey’s hand found mine, and he pulled me through the crowd towards the mess of people that made up the dance floor.
“I’ll go get us drinks, be right back.” he yelled.
I nodded, watching him go. I wasn’t the only one. All over the bar, girls were eyeing Trey.
I didn’t blame them.
A beautiful, black-haired girl sidled up to Trey as he stood at the bar, put a hand on his arm. She had to be college age. She was effortlessly cool in ripped jeans and a tiny band t-shirt. I glanced down at my gold halter top and black jean skirt, suddenly feeling like a child playing dress up.
My insecurities fell upon me like a summer storm. Surely Trey Carter didn’t want the peppy cheerleader when he could have the mysterious college girl.
But Trey smiled at the girl politely, and then turned around, his smouldering dark eyes searching for something in the crowd. They finally settled on me. He strode towards me without another glance at the girl.
My heart skipped a beat.
I’d seen a whole new side of Trey tonight. A side I liked.
Maybe too much.
We downed our drinks and danced, clumsily spinning, bumping into people, and laughing. I felt remarkably light-headed, like the world was spinning even more than I was — but in a good way. We were in a place where nothing else mattered, and as one song seamlessly led to the next, I could feel myself moving closer and closer to Trey. Butterflies swirled in my stomach at his closeness.
The next time I spun, he pulled me into him, my back against his chest, his arms wrapped around me. I pressed against the heat of his body. I could feel the muscles in his chest. Electricity jolted my skin. My breath quickened.
A boy had never made me feel like this before.
Before I could get too carried away in being wrapped up in Trey, I forced my head back in the game. Focus, Hailey.
“I have an idea,” I shouted.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll throw a party for everyone at Evermore. Your band can play. Guarantee that it ends up all over Click. You’ll get some fans.”
I wasn’t sure what he would say.
He grinned. “You’re the publicist, you’re the boss.”
The band finished, and the audience erupted.
It was deafening. I screamed so loud I thought I’d lose my voice, and beside me, Trey furiously applauded and whistled. The lead saxophone, a black man with greying hair, smiled and took a slight bow. Lucy prowled through the audience and found her way to the stage. She was wearing a fabulous beaded 1920s-style flapper dress. She tapped the microphone and raised her arms, flaring her hands. The very definition of a showman. Show-woman.
She leaned to the microphone and whispered. “How are my favorite cats?”
Another eruption from the crowd.
A thrill shot through me, and I jumped up and down and excitedly clapped before bumping into Trey. He moved behind me, slid his arms around my waist. My heart did a small flip at his touch.
Lucy put her hand on her waist and thrust out her hip. “And how am I doing tonight?”
More cheers. Cheers, and so many whistles that every dog in a mile radius must have gone berserk. How did she do it? She was the same age as my grandma, yet when I looked around, there were men practically drooling over her. That was the power of raw charisma. It didn’t matter who you were — if you stood on a stage next to Lucy, you were a candle next to the sun.
“Let’s have some fun. Anyone who sings, get yourself on stage,” Lucy said. The band moved back as much as they could to make room on the front of the stage. “Amateur, professional, I don’t care. Come on. There’s room for everyone.”
The first two singers climbed onto the stage — a man in his late 40s who looked like he would be at home as a foreman on a construction site, and a familiar-looking woman in her mid-30s.
“Go,” I shouted excitedly, shoving Trey towards the stage.
He looked at me expectantly. “Are you coming?”
Was he crazy? Singing in his van or in my basement differed completely from getting up on stage at Prohibition. What were they even planning to sing? I probably didn’t know the words. And there was no way I was getting on that stage. This may be the only place I had ever been that was free from the terror of being caught on Click, but it wasn’t enough.
I shook my head. “I’m not a singer. You are.”
“Who cares what you are? Just come on!”
Three more people filed on stage.
“It’s filling up,” I said. “Go before there’s not any more room. Lucy’s watching!”
Lucy was greeting each person as they climbed to the stage, but her glance kept flitting to me and Trey.
“Go. This could be a chance to impress her.”
Trey reluctantly climbed onto the stage. Once he was there, he kneeled and stuck out his hand. “You can sing,” he said. “So come on.”
“I’m not a singer,” I said. Why didn’t he get it? Sure, I enjoyed singing. But I was a cheerleader. Not a singer. And definitely not someone who should get on stage at Prohibition.
Lucy stepped to the microphone. “Seems one of our cats is skittish. How ‘bout we give her some applause and get her on stage?” She winked at me.
The crowd roared.
I forced a smile, but shook my head. There was no way I was embarrassing myself in front of all those people.
Trey took my hand. He gently pulled me close to him and put his cheek next to mine, whispering in my ear over the roar of the crowd. “You got this.”
“But I don’t.”
“You do,” Trey said. “It’s one song. For the next five minutes, just trust me more than you trust yourself.”
I sensed the crowd was getting impatient. And I knew how important it was to Trey for me to get on that stage. To be seen, no matter how afraid I was. Even if it terrified me, I had to do it. I climbed onto the stage.
The crowd erupted, and adrenaline shot through my system. There were so many faces in the audience! Some drunkenly grinning, some applauding, all watching expectantly.
“What should we sing?” Lucy asked the crowd.
Please pick a song I know, please pick a song I know, please pick a song I know.
Lucy appraised the singers on stage. “Big age gap, so let’s go with a classic.” She spun, whispered a direction to the band, then took her place center stage.
I squeezed Trey’s hand so tightly my knuckles went white. “What if they pick a song I don’t know?”
Trey squeezed back. “Don’t worry about it until it happens.”
The band played.
The first notes.
This song.
I knew this song.
And better yet — there was no way the crowd would not sing along. I may have been on stage, but my voice would be one of a million. It was perfect.
Trey grinned. “You better know this one.”
I grinned back. “You better believe I do.”
On cue, we sang the opening line to Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey.
31
Hailey
The crisp night air felt refreshing after a few hours of dancing and singing in Prohibition. It was now lightly snowing — apparently the weather couldn’t decide. I didn’t care about the cold. I didn’t care about anything. All I knew was that I had just experienced one of the best nights of my life.
And once again, it came courtesy of Trey Carter.
It was almo
st 2 in the morning and Main Street was deserted. The street lamps gave the cute shops a beautiful glow. A fresh sheet of snow blanketed everything. The world looked new. Revitalized. Which was exactly how I felt.
This night had to end at some point, but did it have to end now?
“Cold?” Trey asked.
“Hot,” I said.
He smiled. “Can’t argue that.”
“Another compliment? Who even are you?”
Trey laughed. “Good question.”
“This night was amazing,” I said. I grabbed the street light and spun around the base like I was in a musical. “Singing in the snow!”
As I spun, my foot slipped on the slick path. I almost fell, but Trey caught me with one strong, steady hand. Suddenly, he was holding me, with my back pressed against the street lamp and my hands on his chest.
Our eyes locked.
My breath caught in my throat.
My heart pounded wildly.
Trey brushed the hair from my face, his fingertips burning my skin. A snowflake caught on his stubble.
Slowly, he leaned towards me.
Was this happening?
Was this actually happening?
I closed my eyes.
His lips met mine, and the world tilted on its axis.
Kissing Trey Carter was lying on a sun-drenched beach during the heat of summer, cool waves crashing around your ankles. It was that dreamy state where you’re still half-asleep, and you could hear the rolling waves, but they seemed so far away.
I fell further into the kiss, a shock of energy jolting through me as I felt the roughness of his stubble grazing my cheek, the warmth of his lips against mine. I wound my hands around his neck, pulling him closer. I wanted to never let go, let this moment last forever.
I don’t know how long we stood under the streetlamp, the snow falling around us, our lips pressed together. But I know it wasn’t long enough.
When we finally parted, I was breathless.
So was he.
