by Emily Lowry
32
Hailey
When I arrived home, my ears were ringing, my voice was hoarse from laughter and song, and my heart was drunk on Trey Carter. When he dropped me off, we shared another kiss that was so passionate I could still feel his stubble against my cheek.
I slipped inside my house — my parents appeared to have gone to bed without checking I was home — and made my way to my bedroom.
I lay on my bed, still fully clothed, reliving every moment of the most perfect night of my life, every moment of Trey’s lips against mine.
I’d never been kissed like that.
Moonlight shone through my bedroom window, illuminating the cheer posters on my walls, the makeup vanity crowded with expensive products designed to make me look prettier, the mammoth desk that held my MacBook and a stack of college brochures.
But everything felt… strange. Wrong, somehow. Like I’d returned from Prohibition and came back to the wrong house. Nothing inside my room felt like me. Rather, it felt like an image of who people wanted me to be. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
Kissing Trey had changed everything.
Trey Carter was the first guy to make me feel beautiful and wanted for who I really was. Every other guy who had ever looked at me had just wanted to kiss the head cheerleader. Trey had looked through all of that, had seen me.
I wanted to know every little thing about him.
I wasn’t his publicist anymore. I wasn’t trying to build a crowd just so he’d take our English assignment seriously.
The assignment?
The more time I spent with Trey, the less I cared about my perfect grades. My grades were another echo from a past life filled with Click blasts and mean cliques. Did I care about them? Did I care about cheer?
I wasn’t sure — and that fact both thrilled and scared me. School these days was just something that took up my time between magical encounters with Trey.
If I didn’t care about cheer, if I didn’t care about my grades, then what did I care about?
You are way too young to have an identity crisis, Hailey.
It was all too much to think about.
I closed my eyes. The only thing that mattered was that I had just experienced the best night of my life.
Yes, that was the only thing that mattered.
We’d had a perfect night.
And now it felt like nothing could go wrong.
33
Trey
I didn’t want the night to end.
After I dropped Hailey off, I drove two blocks, then parked under a streetlamp. I must have started to text her a dozen times, but what could I say? The words needed to describe how amazing our night was hadn’t been invented yet. As I stared into the night, the opening notes of a song popped in my head. And the opening lyrics.
I opened the glove box, found a pad of paper, and scribbled it down.
“She’s a fire in the darkest sky, a golden girl with a heart of July.” I tapped my pencil against the pad, then almost scratched out the lyrics. Was this song for Hailey? Was this song about Hailey? No. Couldn’t be. I swore to myself, swore to my band, that I would never write a song about a girl.
But I couldn’t get the melody out of my head. Or the memory of my lips against hers.
I had kissed Hailey freaking Danielson. What was going on?
“You’re losing it, dude,” I said. I turned on the van and drove home.
Mom was waiting in the living room watching a late-night show host interview some actor about some movie we’d never watch. She said she liked to watch this late show because she knew the trumpet player in the house band. They worked on a few songs together.
“Home late, even by your standards,” she said.
“You didn’t have to stay up.”
“I like staying up,” she said. She muted the TV. “Clark’s on trumpet tonight.”
“Isn’t he always?”
“Sometimes they switch it up.” She eyed me up and down. “You got some lipstick on you.”
“What?” I immediately reached for my lips, mortified.
Mom burst out laughing. “So you two had yourself a time, then?”
“It’s not like that.” I sat on the other side of the couch.
“It’s always like that.” The image from the TV reflected in her eyes. “I remember when your dad and I played Prohibition. He wasn’t the best, but he could pluck a few notes on the double bass. Enough to put down a song.”
I didn’t like hearing stories about my dad. All they did was remind me of the person I should’ve met, the person who should’ve been there. Whenever she told a story, all it did was point out what was missing. I’d never tell her that, though. I wanted her to have the chance to dream of a different time. A different life.
“He’d play, I’d sing, then we’d dance the night away. Can’t remember how many times he’d drop me off and your grandpa would come tearing out of the bush to chase him off. Couple times Grandpa had a gun, too. A Winchester. Grandpa was all talk, though. Never shot at him.”
“Too bad.” The words slipped from my mouth.
Mom rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to forgive him some time.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You will. You’ll see. You can’t fault a boy for not being a man.”
“I can fault—”
“Enough.”
Conversations about my dad ended quickly. Same with conversations about my older brother.
“I think it’s good you have a little distraction,” Mom said. “Good to see you live a little while you’ve got the time.”
The time she never had. My dad — her distraction — gave her three kids, but cost her everything. Her music. Her career. Her dreams. I always wanted to ask if it was worth it. If she’d do it all again, would she throw it away for some boy?
“That girl’s different than I expected,” Mom said. “I like her.”
“Different?”
“From the other parts of life.” Mom cradled the remote in her hand. “From the good part of the city. Surprised you dragged her all the way down here. Didn’t think you had that kind of charm.”
She was joking, so I gave a weak laugh.
But there was some truth in what she said, wasn’t there?
Hailey was — as much as she hated to admit it — a Rich Girl.
Why was she slumming it up with me?
34
Trey
Evermore High, the day after a night at Prohibition, was like being catapulted from the best dream you ever had right into a waking nightmare. I couldn’t even enjoy English class — Hailey was away at a cheer competition. I hoped she wasn’t too tired today.
I could still feel her lips on mine when I closed my eyes.
I tried to focus on Mr. Adebayo droning on about Heathcliff and Cathy’s love affair in Wuthering Heights, but it was impossible to ignore Adam Zamos’s beady blue eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. Zamos was the only senior in my Lit class. Probably had to repeat to get enough credits to graduate.
Meathead.
Dude. Stop staring at me.
Was the captain — excuse me, former captain — of the football team jealous that I’d been spending time with Hailey? It was his own fault. He was stupid enough to hurt her and push her away.
Or was he angry about my little Click blast?
All right. Enough was enough.
I glared at Adam, my eyes meeting his evenly. “Look, dude, if you’re just going to sit there and stare at me all class, let’s get this over with. Hurry up and ask me out so I can turn you down. Like Hailey did.”
Adam shot to his feet, his binder spilling to the floor. Already students were getting the phones ready. An encounter between Hailey’s ex-boyfriend and her rumored new boyfriend? This would overwhelm Click.
“You think she cares about you?” Adam said, scowling. “She’s only hanging out with you because she can’t have me. Look at your cheap clothes. She probably feels sorry
for you. Probably needs to buy you things. That why you’re hanging with her, Carter? You need a sugar momma because your real one can’t get the job done?”
Anyone else would’ve stood, shoved Adam, and watched him tumble over the desks and chairs. But I needed to be smarter than that. No sense getting suspended — or charged with assault. So instead, I leaned back in my chair, put my hands behind my head, and my feet on my desk. “Nah, I don’t need Hailey. Your mom already covers my bills.”
Adam launched himself at me. But before he could connect, Mr. Adebayo interfered.
“Zamos. Out.”
“But—”
“OUT.”
Zamos shoved his binder in his bag and pointed at me. “This ain’t over, Carter.”
I smirked at him as he stormed out. Moron. And what was the deal with him and Hailey, anyhow? Why had they broken up?
Mr. Adebayo crossed his arms. “And you, Mr. Carter. Since you’re so knowledgeable when it comes to interpersonal relationships, perhaps you can tell the rest of us why Catherine married Edgar instead of Heathcliff?”
“Easy.” I didn’t bother to take my feet off my desk. “Edgar’s rich. Cultured. Born on the right side of the tracks. Heathcliff? Dude’s the opposite. It’s not a love story, it’s a tragedy.”
I stood.
“Where are you going?” Mr. Adebayo asked.
“Wherever I feel like,” I said. I exited the classroom before he could say a word. They’d try to put me in detention next week, but detention only worked if you showed up. And a guy like me? They probably preferred it when I wasn’t around, anyway.
It didn’t matter.
None of it did.
I had a set list to work out and a party to prepare for.
35
Hailey
Jordyn and I unfurled the banner I had made for Trey’s band. With a nail clenched between her lips, Jordyn climbed a short ladder and held up the corner of the banner. She hammered it into the wall.
It was still a few hours until the party — and Trey’s first live concert — but the basement was coming together. We’d set up rows of drinks on the wet bar and shoved all the furniture aside to make an impromptu dance floor. We’d hung string lights from the ceiling, and the stage was lit with a small, multi-colored spotlight. It wasn’t the nicest stage in the world, but it would work.
I was excited for Trey to see it. I felt giddy at the thought of him being here, in my house, again. Since our amazing night that had ended in the most perfect kiss — the best kiss of my entire life — we were texting each other constantly. I went to bed thinking about him and woke up in the morning still thinking about him. I had constant butterflies. This was what falling for a boy should feel like. I found myself in complete disbelief that I could have ever wasted so much time on Adam.
When I put out the invite and announced that Trey’s band was playing, I was almost overwhelmed with the amount of interest we received. Trey Carter at a party? Live? And it wasn’t a setup? We had so many requests to get in that I was worried I’d need to hire a bouncer.
“Chase’ll do it,” Jordyn said. “He’s a big, dumb jock. He can stand in a corner and keep people in line.”
“Your brother is hardly the fighting type,” I replied.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s the quarterback. People will listen to him, because that’s how high school works.” She finished hanging the banner and admired it. “It’s so purdy. You can tell the person who hung it really knows what they’re doing.”
I laughed. “Yeah, she’s the real rockstar.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
I grabbed a drink for each of us. “Did you see the Click blast with Adam and Trey?”
“Who didn’t?”
Good point. The Click blast circulated wildly. I probably had it to thank for the enthusiastic response to Trey’s concert. Who wouldn’t want to see the person who had stood up to Adam Zamos — and won?
“What did you think about it?” I asked.
Jordyn raised an eyebrow. “Think about it?”
I bit my lip. When I first saw the Click blast, I saw the same thing everyone else did — Trey Carter standing up to Adam Zamos, making him mad, then skipping out on class. But each time I watched it, I saw a little more. It wasn’t the part with him and Adam that worried me; it was the part with him and Mr. Adebayo.
Rich. Cultured. Born on the right side of the tracks. People like that never went for the guy from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks. Was that what he thought about me? We weren’t officially in a relationship, but did he believe we couldn’t work? And if he did, what was the point?
“Like, the part about the rich, cultured guy and the wrong side of the tracks. The whole ‘it’s a tragedy, not a love story’ thing.” I looked to Jordyn, desperately hoping she understood.
“It was just a book,” Jordyn said. “It wasn’t about you.”
She understood. But that did little to calm my insecurities. She didn’t know Trey like I did. With Trey, nothing was obvious. You always had to dig a little deeper to get the answer.
The doorbell rang.
I rushed upstairs and checked my reflection in the mirror. Shook out my hair and smoothed my dress, trying to ignore my accelerating heart rate.
I opened the door.
Trey stood, grinning, DeAndre and Leo hovering behind him. “We’re here to be the party.”
The buzzing crowd packed my basement. Most of the junior and senior class was here. The entire cheer squad. Half the football team — Adam and his cronies hadn’t dared to show.
Even Madison had looked impressed, although half of me wondered if she had just turned up to see if the whole thing would fall flat. I mean, who had ever heard of Trey Carter doing anything that involved the student body of Evermore?
It was probably one reason my basement was filled to capacity.
True to his sister’s word, Chase Jones was standing on a chair in the corner, monitoring things and keeping people in line with the help of Dylan Ramirez. Not that anyone was getting into trouble — they were all too curious to see the mysterious Trey Carter finally play. From what they’d seen on Click — either the snippets of music I posted, or the confrontation with Adam — he’d earned a reputation.
I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone. I tried to channel Lucy’s magnetic energy. “How’s everyone doing?”
The crowd cheered.
I didn’t have the courage to swing my hip out like she did and ask the crowd how I was doing. I knew exactly how terrible that would look on Click, and I was willing to bet a lot of this party would be blasted throughout Evermore.
“I’d give you a formal introduction, but…” I shrugged. Then winked. “You’ve all heard the rumors.”
The crowd laughed.
I grinned. “So, without further ado — Stonewash Sunrise!”
Trey, DeAndre, and Leo rushed the stage, grabbed their instruments, and immediately launched into their first song. It had a catchy opening riff — played perfectly by Trey — and it took all of ten seconds before the crowd was happily jumping along to the music.
Then, Trey sang, and every girl either gasped, melted, or both.
He was breathtaking. Standing there on stage, eyes half closed, his gravelly voice serenading the crowd, he looked hotter than ever.
And I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Girls jumped up and down, squealing. If the female population of Evermore High had desired resident bad boy Trey Carter before, this concert was bringing the obsession to a whole new level.
A cheer teammate in the year below me, Becca Riordan, clutched my arm. “He. Is. So. Hot!”
I smiled at my teammate but didn’t reply.
I danced near the front, my eyes on Trey. I wanted to enjoy this. I wanted everything to be perfect. But I hadn’t had much time to talk about our relationship — or whatever it was.
His eyes caught mine for a second and he gave me a gorgeous little smile that made my hea
rt flip. He really was something special.
Yet doubt hung over me like a threatening storm cloud — could this work?
36
Hailey
If you’ve ever felt like everyone in the world was watching you, like you were under the world’s most glaring spotlight, you’ll know how I felt walking into Evermore the Monday after Trey’s concert at my house. It was a warm day in late February and for whatever reason, everyone could not stop staring at me. Some students were discreet, looking at me before quickly looking away, others openly gawked.
A familiar sense of dread creeped down my spine. There could only be one reason for this.
I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, there was a notification from Click, and I was tagged.
I sighed. What would it be this time? During Trey’s standout performance at my party, I encouraged everyone to take photos and videos for Click. I wanted to help build a buzz. I’d been careful the whole night, not to go too near him, not to do exactly what I wanted to do, which was to throw my arms around him. He was cautious with me too — nothing like the night at Prohibition, where he had wrapped his arms around me for everyone to see, danced with his body against mine.
But after the concert, after everyone else left, we spent hours in my basement together. We were meant to be cleaning up, but we didn’t get too much done — it felt like we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I could have kissed him all night.
What we had, it was private. I guess neither of us was ready to legitimize our relationship to the entire school, whatever it was. If someone took a quick video at the wrong angle, that was all it would take for the rumor mill to go off the chain.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I knew I liked Trey — it was obvious, even to me — but I worried that we wouldn’t be able to stand against the crushing pressures of Evermore. Especially Trey. He despised the rumors, the gossip. And, unfortunately, rumors and gossip followed me like dogs chasing a rabbit.
