by Emma Scott
“She kissed River in the closet.”
Her first kiss. She gave it to someone else…
Holden looked thoughtful. “You sure about that?”
“Isn’t that the point of the game?”
He hunched into his coat and didn’t answer.
“So you’re giving up?” Ronan asked.
“I can’t be that pathetic asshole anymore. She’s had a crush on River before I came along, and now she’s got him. I need to man up and be happy that she’s happy. That’s all I want. For her to be happy.” I tossed a dart and missed. “That’s what I’m going to tell her tonight.”
“Honorable to a fault,” Holden said. “You’re the best of us, Miller.”
“If that’s true, you need to set the bar higher,” I muttered. “I just…miss her, you know? I miss hanging out with her. Talking to her. She was my best friend before you guys, and I don’t want to lose her.”
“And Amber?”
I shrugged. “Something could happen there, but I won’t know if I don’t cut Violet loose.” I swallowed a jagged lump of pain and forced myself to say the words out loud. “She doesn’t love me. Not like the way I do. Time to get over it.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Holden said. “Except for one tiny detail.”
“And that is?”
“You look fucking miserable,” Ronan said.
Holden grinned in wide-eyed surprise. “So astute! Our Ronan truly is a big softy under all that brutish muscle and glower.”
Ronan flipped him the finger.
“How about this?” Holden slung his arm around my neck. “You and Dr. Phil, here, shoot darts. If Ronan pops more balloons than you, you tell Violet the truth. If you pop more, you can continue to wallow in your honorable misery forever, and we’ll leave you alone about it.”
“That’s dumb. And Ronan is going to win. He always does.”
Ronan held out his hand. “Flask.”
“Ah yes. A little handicap.” Holden turned over his flask, and Ronan tipped it up, downing the entire thing in a matter of seconds.
“That’s about four ounces of Ducasse, the Everclear of expensive vodka.” Holden chucked Ronan on the back. “How you feeling, champ?”
Ronan’s eyes watered, and he blew air out of puffed cheeks. “Better.”
Holden smiled, satisfied. “Evened the odds. Right now, our buddy couldn’t find his own reflection in a mirror.”
Truly, Ronan looked shitfaced, swaying slightly, while Holden produced a wad of cash.
“Six darts, my good man.”
The carny laid them out.
“Miller’s up first, and no cheating. Honor demands you try to win.”
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.
I took up my three darts. I missed the first, then hit the second two.
Ronan took his darts and blearily stared at the balloon targets in front of him. Then his eyes suddenly focused, and he shot all three, one after the other, rapid fire. Three balloons popped.
“Fucking hell.”
“A deal is a deal,” Holden said through loud laughter. “Take your prize… Take this cheap SpongeBob SquarePants key chain to Lady Violet as a token of your love.”
I gave my friends the stink eye. Holden grinning. Happy. His eyes clear instead of racing with thoughts or drowning in booze. Ronan wasn’t falling-down-drunk like he’d looked a second ago, but was laughing too. Silent chuckles that shook his shoulders.
I bit back my own smile and hurled the plush toy at their heads.
“Assholes.”
Game or no game, I wasn’t about to confess a damn thing to Violet. I’d been a dick to her, ignoring her and making her feel like shit. I was like that guy in that Christmas movie Mom watched every year—he was in love with Keira Knightly who was fucking married. Violet kissing River wasn’t quite the same thing, but it may as well have been. I’d been holding out for four years, hoping to be Violet’s first…everything.
And someone else got there first.
I took an Uber to the wealthy estates near the Pogonip forest, my thoughts drifting backward over memories. We’d almost kissed. Once. When we were fifteen. Violet wanted to practice, but I’d have rather chewed glass than be her test dummy. A stand-in for the guy she actually wanted to kiss. I wanted the real thing.
But she doesn’t want me.
I climbed out of the Uber and went around to her backyard. My guitar case banged against my shoulders as I climbed the trellis. Violet had sent me another text that I should bring it.
She was waiting for me, excitement and hesitation dancing in her eyes, lighting her up. Making her pale skin luminous. Her luscious body was hugged by a tight T-shirt and pajama pants. Her breasts were perfectly round and heavy; I ached to fill my hands with them and coax her nipples to stand at attention with my tongue…
Jesus, dude. That’s not what friends are for.
“Hey,” I said, cutting off the heated thoughts before they got me in trouble.
“Hi,” she said, breathy and nervous. “I’m so glad you came. It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, Vi. I’m sorry I’ve been cold lately. And I wanted—”
“It’s all right,” she said, waving her hands. “I know things haven’t been great for you since Chet arrived.”
“Yeah, he’s a fucking barnacle. Don’t know how to scrape him off.”
“I do,” Violet said. “Well, not directly. But I know how you can make a ton of money to take care of your mom and get rid of him forever.” She held up her cell phone. “YouTube.”
I leaned against her desk. “I know where you’re going with this.”
“I’ve been doing my homework. Shawn Mendes is literally a superstar because of his Vine videos. Billie Eilish put a song on SoundCloud and now look where she is. After the reaction to your playing at the party, it’s a no-brainer. We put videos of you out there, and the world is going to beg for more.”
I smiled, warmed by her confidence in me. “It’s just that easy, huh?”
“With your talent? Yes.”
“Not that it’s going to happen, but I don’t want to be famous like Mendes.”
“What do you want?”
You.
“To…uh, I don’t know. I like performing in front of people. I didn’t realize how much until I did it at the party. It felt like all the shit I walk around with all day had an outlet. A safe one, where I don’t have to talk about my dad or my past or…”
What I feel for you.
“Or whatever…I can just feel it through the song. And the audience hears and maybe they sort of understand. They understand me.” I shrugged. “Make me feel less lonely.”
Violet’s dark blue eyes were miles deep, so beautiful the way she looked at me, seeing and accepting every flawed and broken piece of me.
The air thickened and turned heavy.
I cleared my throat. “Short answer, I want to make music and earn enough money to live without being so goddamn stressed out all the time. And to help my mom.”
Violet smiled softly. “I get that. But with talent like yours, being famous or not might be out of your hands.”
I smirked. “I think that’s overstating it.”
“I don’t.”
God, her faith in me was total. As if superstardom was a matter of when, not if. But the internet was flooded with wannabe Shawns and Billies. I’d just be another voice shouting into an overcrowded void. On the other hand, my own plan to send unproduced, raw-as-hell demos to record companies wasn’t exactly a sure bet either.
“We can try, but—”
“Great! I’m ready when you are.”
But I still needed to tell her I was ready to stop being an asshole and be the friend she wanted. To take care of her like she took care of me. Best to do it quick, like tearing off a Band-Aid.
“So, how are things with River?” I asked, unlatching my case.
She sat back on her bed, wary. “Why are you asking?”
“Beca
use you’re my friend. And I want you to be happy.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and her smile was so goddamn beautiful…
“Thank you. I want that for you too. I’ve missed you.” Her smile faltered. “But River? I’m not sure what’s there. If anything.”
“No?” My heart stood at attention and my plans instantly wanted to go up in flames. “Why not?”
She shrugged. “He seems interested but then he doesn’t. He asked me to Homecoming and then hasn’t texted since. It’s just weird.”
“Oh.” I pulled out my guitar and set it on my lap, pretending to mess with the frets. “You looked pretty happy with him at the pep rally.”
“That’s only because I have to work overtime with my formidable charm and wit just to make the barest of conversation,” she teased. “Hell, we played a kissing game, and he didn’t even kiss me.”
My head shot up, my heart taking off. “He didn’t?”
“It’s like he’s nervous around me, which has to be impossible, right?”
“No. Not impossible at all.” My voice had turned gruff. Thick. Violet noticed.
“So…what about you?” she asked, plucking an invisible piece of lint off her pajama pants. “Are you and Amber going to the dance?”
Was it my imagination that she sounded afraid of the answer? But afraid I’d say yes? Or no?
“I haven’t asked her yet. Don’t know that I’m going, anyway,” I added quickly.
Violet tucked a lock of raven black hair behind her ear, her eyes anywhere but on me. “So…shall we?”
I nodded as my every honorable intention walked away. The neutral song I’d been thinking about playing followed it out the door as well. “All I’ll Ever Want,” the song I’d wanted to sing to her on the eve of the first day of school, was now front and center.
“Ready?” she asked.
“What do I do?”
“Introduce yourself and tell us the name of the song you’re about to destroy us with.”
I sat on the edge of Violet’s bed, and she sat beside me, cross-legged, phone held up.
“Five, four, three…”
“So, hey. I’m Miller Stratton,” I said, suddenly nervous without the liquid courage of tequila I’d had at the party. The eye of Violet’s phone camera stared me down. “Uh, I’m from Santa Cruz, California…”
Suddenly, my knit beanie was itchy as hell. I took it off and scrubbed my hand through my hair. A few locks fell over my brow. Violet’s eyes widened and her breath caught. Probably because I was messing this all up. I whipped the hair out of my eyes, cleared my throat, and put my attention safely on my guitar.
“I’m going to play a song called ‘All I’ll Ever Want.’”
My fingers found the strings and strummed, creating sounds that helped make order out of my chaotic feelings. The emotions and harmonies were like twin currents that carried my voice, and my voice spoke the words—a hundred different ways of saying the same thing. Asking Violet the same thing—to fall in love with me the way I loved her.
At the last chorus, my voice rose up and my heart clenched, squeezing hard and emptying itself, giving everything.
Feels so good and feels so weak
This love cuts until I bleed
Don’t touch me, baby, don’t look at my scars,
Until you want to know which ones are yours
All I’ll ever want
All I’ll ever want
Is for you to fall in love with me tonight
The last note wavered then dissipated. Violet held the phone a moment more, then hit stop and dropped her hands in her lap. Her mouth was open, her lush, full lips parted. Her porcelain skin was flushed and her eyes lit up. I saw me reflected in her eyes. Someone who just might make it out of this shit life after all with whatever talent God or the universe saw fit to give me.
“Miller, my God…” she breathed. “That was…”
For you. That was for you. You’re the girl in every song.
“That was…unreal,” she said.
“Yeah?”
Violet put her hand over her heart. “Yeah. Yes. Oh my God, Miller…”
She reached across the short distance between us with both arms and hugged me. I slid my guitar away and held her tight, closing my eyes and sinking into the circle of her embrace. Soft, warm…it smelled of her skin, her hair, her sweet breath on my neck.
“You’re going to go all the way,” she said, her lips against my shoulder. “I can feel it.”
And in that moment, bolstered and enveloped by her faith in me, I felt it too.
My head moved a little, led by my mouth that wanted hers. Her smooth cheek brushed against my stubbly one. Another small movement, hesitant, but with my entire heart bared behind it, and my lips brushed the corner of her mouth. She pulled back but only far enough to meet my gaze that was full of naked want. Her lips parted with a breathy little gasp, stripping away any restraint I had left.
With a small, rough sound of pure need, I kissed her.
I kissed my best friend. I altered us forever. No going back nor wanting to. Not wanting anything ever again but this.
My lips claimed hers, gently at first, and then with increasing need when she didn’t pull away. I was astounded that she didn’t pull away. She kissed me back. Her tongue, soft and warm, shyly sought entry into my mouth. Curious and hesitant. I let her in, taking this kiss and giving it back in waves of heated, wet perfection.
Goddamn, she tasted like apples and sugar, she was warmth and home. She was where I wanted to be, always.
I held her face in both hands, taking and sucking and drinking from her. Breaths came in short rasps through my nose; I needed her more than I needed air. With every passing moment, I grew more shocked—and scared—about how strong that need was. How kissing her was everything and yet nothing I was prepared for.
I couldn’t break away or save myself from the depth of my love for her. I thought I’d explored it in my songs. Navigated every twist and turn. Yet touching her like this—indulging in her—showed me that I knew nothing. That I’d been wandering a vast cavern for years with only a tiny flashlight. Now the walls were falling away, and the sunlight was pouring in.
Too much. Too good. It can’t be real. Can’t last. Nothing this good ever does.
And then it stopped.
Cold nothing replaced the warmth and wetness of her mouth as Violet gave a little cry and reared back, pushing my hands away. Her wide eyes searched mine. Her full lips were swollen and still wet from my kiss. Her delicate skin chafed by my stubble. Her nipples, now hard and straining against her shirt, tortured me for want of touching them.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
I fumbled for something to say. The poetry that lived in my heart for her only came out on paper. In my mouth, it tangled and tripped over my self-doubt. My fears. The voice in my head that said I was a poor nobody, and she was a rich girl who deserved better. The sinister whisper, wearing Chet’s voice, that told me she’d wake up someday and realize it too.
Her fingertips flew to the redness on her lips. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I don’t… It just happened…”
“I told you River didn’t kiss me and your whole face changed,” she said, sliding off the bed and backing away, her fingers still on her lips. “You said you were happy for me.”
“That’s not what I said,” I told her, my voice hardening. “I said I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I care about. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
She shook her head, staring out at nothing, a thousand thoughts in her eyes. The hand on her mouth slipped around to touch the pale skin of her neck which was flushed pink. “You’ve been ignoring me for weeks, and now you kiss me…”
“And you kissed me back,” I said, my jaw clenching.
And it was everything. So much. Too much…
The familiar sounds of her parents blasting each other in muffled but loud voices rumbled up from below. Sudden and unnervin
g. Like a leaf burning in a beam of light, Violet curled up on herself, hugging her elbows and casting her eyes to the ground.
She said in a small voice. “River and I…we’re going to Homecoming.”
“So what? You don’t like him. That’s a story you tell yourself instead of…”
Loving me.
Violet lifted her eyes to me, heavy and shining. “Do you hear them? Is that what happens? It all blackens and rots away?”
Fury raged in me. At her but at myself more, because a part of me was just as fucking scared as she was. Nothing good lasts. Not your health, not the roof over your head…
Not fathers who should stay but don’t.
The thought stopped me dead, like a punch in the chest. I never let myself think of him. Ever. I pretended I was okay. I told myself his leaving hadn’t cut me to the core, but now I could see my scars were the same as Violet’s. Her parents had done nothing to guide her, either. We’d both been left out in the cold by the people who should have sheltered us the most.
I inhaled through my nose, a million fiery words burning on my tongue, and tore out of Violet’s room. Her footsteps followed behind.
“Miller, wait. What are you—?”
I found them in the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. McNamara shouting over one another, a broken dish shattered on the floor in front of them.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
They stopped and fell silent, shocked and staring. I felt Violet slip behind me, her hand on my arm, small and trembling.
“Miller, no…” she whispered.
“Yes,” I shouted, my wrathful glare going between her parents. “Do you know what you’re doing to her? Do you care? You just fucking shout and break shit and then pretend like it’s all normal? Like she can’t hear you? Because she can and it’s fucking tearing her apart.”
The soft sounds of Violet crying behind me. Incredulous stares in front of me.
Mr. McNamara was the first to break free of his shock. “Now, hold on, young man. You can’t just—”
“Shut up!” I barked. “Shut up, for once in your lives. Shut up when you think you need to scream at each other. Shut the fuck up and spare one goddamn thought for what you might be doing to your daughter.”
