by Emma Scott
And that scares me.
I’ve spent years doing exactly what he accused me of, holding him at arm’s length for the sheer, simple fact I love him too much. I love him so much my heart feels like it’ll burst. I love him so much I’d rather keep him in my life as a friend than ruin us. I know that sounds crazy, but good and precious things like Miller Stratton only come along once in a lifetime. To have him and lose him…?
I can’t even write it. It nearly happened four years ago, and that night scarred me for life.
But he kissed me and now everything’s different. I feel different. And angry. He shouldn’t have done it. But he did, and now, I can’t go back.
And the worst part is, I don’t want to.
I shut my diary on those words—my confession—and exhaled a shaky breath. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late to the school where River Whitmore would be waiting for me. After the parade, we’d gone our separate ways so I could change for Homecoming while he had a victory dinner with his team. He suggested we meet at the dance in case his dinner ran late. Not exactly romantic but okay.
And I realized it didn’t bother me anyway. My crush on River had begun long before I met Miller, but now I felt like I was clinging to it as a safety net. Miller’s kiss cut the wires, and now, I was falling…
I wished Shiloh was there to slap some sense into me, but she wasn’t going to the dance either. She had other plans. Evelyn had been acting cool toward me, and I was in too much emotional turmoil to call anyone else.
I got dressed alone, donning a white ice-skating style halter dress with lace at the hem, waist, and under the arms. Mom had taken me to a salon earlier that day, and they’d piled my hair onto my head in an elegant but messy bun with little daisy pins stuck here and there and tendrils curling down around my ears.
I examined myself in the mirror. Homecoming Queen. Nothing felt special or exciting. I was as lonely as I’d ever been on a Saturday night. And Miller wasn’t going to come climbing through my window to sing for me.
He’ll be at the dance with Amber.
Shiloh had told me. That had hurt but was no less than I expected.
“Or deserved,” I said softly to my reflection.
I’d hurt him, which was precisely what I wanted to avoid all along. But that’s what love does. It hurts.
And yet kissing Miller felt so good.
I put another coat of lip gloss on, but it didn’t help. It’d been four days, and I could still taste him.
I waited out in front of the school for River at seven as planned, but there was no sign of him. I texted him, and there was no answer. Minutes passed and I grew tired of waving sheepishly at students going by in couples or groups, many giving me curious stares.
Maybe River’s in the gym already and can’t hear his phone.
Walking the red carpet alone was more than slightly embarrassing, and inside, there was still no sign of River. I spied his teammates and their dates. No quarterback.
Embarrassment warred with worry. Maybe something had happened to him. Or to his mom.
“Have you seen River?” I shouted at Donte Weatherly, the star wide receiver.
“Yeah, he was at dinner with us. I thought he was coming straight here.”
“Me too.”
“He’s probably just running late.” He flashed me his perfect white teeth, contrasting brightly with his warm brown skin. “I’ll text him for you, my queen, and let you know when he answers.”
I smiled. “Thank you,” I said and wandered away, through a morass of dancing bodies. I scanned the crowd but realized it wasn’t River I was searching for.
Evelyn, Caitlin, and Julia found me. They all looked beautiful: Caitlin in red, Julia in blue, and Evelyn in black with red roses clipped to her long black hair.
“Where’s River?” Julia asked.
My cheeks burned. “Good question.”
Caitlin’s eyebrows shot up, while Evelyn wore a strange smile.
“He’s not here?” she asked.
“I’m getting a little worried, actually,” I said to combat the actual fear that I was being stood up.
“We just saw one of the Lost Boys,” Evelyn said. Lost Boys was her new nickname for Miller, Ronan and Holden. Outcasts who were seen roaming the Boardwalk almost every night. Given the connection between Santa Cruz and the classic vampire movie set here, the name had spread like fire.
She smiled sweetly. “Your Miller.”
My stupid heart fluttered, though I made my voice hard. “He’s not mine.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she said as the DJ started “Dance Monkey.” She pointed through the crowd. “He’s here with Amber.”
I followed her gaze. Amber looked beautiful in pink, real daisies twined in her long blond hair that swayed and flowed as she laughingly tried to get Miller to dance.
My eyes drank him up. He wore a suit coat and his hair was damp from the shower but for a stray lock that fell over his brow. Stubble still shadowed his angular cheeks, highlighting his full mouth and those lips that kissed me so perfectly…
As I watched him, something in my heart unfurled. Like a tight fist finally letting go, warmth and lightness expanded in my chest. I sucked in a breath.
He is mine. He’s always been mine.
Tears sprung to my eyes, but I willed them back. It wasn’t fair of me to ruin anything between him and Amber, but if we could have a real talk before a spark caught fire between them, we might have a chance. If he hadn’t already given up on me. If it wasn’t too late.
I took a step toward him and then Caitlin grabbed my arm, bouncing excitedly.
“It’s starting! Your dance with River.”
Evelyn’s smile could have cut glass, her eyes boring into me. I turned away to seek Miller again, but he and Amber were gone.
“Oh no…” I stood on tiptoe in my heels, searching.
“And now,” the DJ intoned, “it’s time for your Homecoming King and Queen to come up here for their official coronation dance. Please help me first welcome your king, River Whitmore!”
The crowd cheered and heads turned to look.
The DJ tried again. “Your king, River Whitmore!”
My cheeks burned as a room full of eyes now were turning to me in pity and curiosity. Some snickering and whispering. My phone vibrated a text within my clutch purse. Conscious that the entire school was watching me while the DJ stalled for time with dumb jokes, I pulled it out and read the text from River.
I can’t make it. I’m sorry.
Worry that something had happened to him or his mom evaporated, and humiliation flooded in. It carried with it a strange lightness. As if a burden had been lifted.
“He’s not coming,” I murmured.
My phone slipped out of my trembling hand and hit the gym floor. I glanced up to a sea of eyes still watching me. Julia and Caitlin gave me pitying stares, while Evelyn couldn’t conceal the triumph in her smirk. Someone told the DJ to play another song, and music filled the gym, covering the murmurs and talk.
None of it mattered. I had to find Miller. He mattered, and it had taken me long enough to realize it.
I ran out of the gym and rounded the corner, the chilly night air cooling my burning cheeks, and stopped short. My breath caught.
Twenty or so yards away, just outside a cone of light, Miller sagged against a wall while Amber knelt in front of him, her back to me, her hands on his hips, her head bobbing. His eyes were closed, his handsome face twisted in a grimace. Of pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell.
I swung back around the corner, my bare shoulder blades crashing against the rough cement. I clapped a hand to my mouth before any sound could escape. My breath rasped in my nose and my legs went weak.
“Stupid,” I whispered behind my hand, tears streaming. “I’m so stupid.”
And too late. Four years and a few minutes too late.
After a few ragged moments, the first sharp pain passed. The fist in my chest closed up tight again and sank to my
stomach like a heavy lead ball. I sucked in deep breaths and dried my tears, leaving mascara smudges on the heels of my hands.
Then I pushed off the wall and went home.
Part III
Chapter Thirteen
March
Are we hanging out today or not??
I read the text from Amber and sighed.
“Uh oh,” Holden said, walking to my left. Ronan was on my right as we crossed the grassy expanse leading into school on a sun-filled morning. “Girl trouble. Again. You could always switch to my team, you know. Less drama.”
I shot him a look. “Less drama.”
“Okay fine, I’m a handful, but if you told Amber you were gay, you could finally break up with her and put all of us out of our misery.”
“Word,” Ronan concurred.
I didn’t say anything. They didn’t get it. Yes, I stuck with Amber because—like an asshole—I’d let her go down on me at Homecoming. Other guys might have ghosted her by now, but I wasn’t like that. Amber was a human being who deserved to not be treated as if she were disposable.
Moreover, I’d talked myself into wanting to date her. She was sweet, smart, and beautiful—like an unpolished Cara Delevingne, with long blond hair and thick eyebrows. I hung out with her because I kept thinking this night, or this date would be the one where the spark ignited and caught fire, and I could finally get over Violet.
But the spark never caught, physically or emotionally. My stubborn heart refused to let go of Violet. I knew it never would.
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I just…” I stopped, glancing around. Students were huddled in their usual clusters before first bell, but now they were all watching us, talking behind their hands, and smiling. Girls offered flirty little waves. Guys tilted their head in greeting.
“What the hell is this?” I looked to Ronan. “You?”
He shrugged. “I just got off another suspension.”
His fourth. Ronan and Vice Principal Chouder had a relationship modeled after Bender and Mr. Vernon from The Breakfast Club. Ronan spent more time in detention or suspended than he did in a classroom.
“You spray-painted rapist on Mikey Grimaldi’s brand-new Jeep Rubicon,” I said. “Most girls consider you a hero. This could be for you.”
“They don’t know that I did it,” Ronan said, “and that’s not what I got suspended for.”
Holden shot me a commiserating glance. “I know, I can’t keep up with his vigilantism either.” He gestured at the crowd with a flourish. “This, my friend, is for you. Your performance at the winter Talent Show, perhaps?”
Holden and Amber had pestered me to enter the school’s annual talent show so relentlessly that I did it more to shut them up than anything. Plus, I figured I needed the practice of performing in front of a crowd. I thought I’d be scared shitless, but it was easy. Perfect. The stage was where I wanted to be. It felt like home. Safer than the one I actually had.
“That was months ago,” I said. “This is some new shit.”
We crossed the quad and took a seat on the cement wall that separated the lower level of the school with the upper. Stares, waves, and murmurs followed.
“Quite the mystery,” Holden said, leaning casually against the wall, one hand in the pocket of his long tweed coat, despite the fact that spring was rapidly approaching.
Ronan put one booted foot up onto the ledge and rested his elbow on his knee. “Maybe Miller finally fucked Amber, and she’s told the school about his magical, giant dick.”
Holden’s eyes widened. “How do you know his dick is magical and-or giant? Are you two holding out on me?”
“Can you both stop talking about my dick?” I snapped. “And no, that’s not it. We haven’t… Never mind.”
Holden sighed. “Still stuck on aggressive cuddling, are we? What are you waiting for?”
“Violet,” Ronan said.
I didn’t bother to argue. “Amber’s getting fed up with me. Can’t blame her.”
“You tried,” Holden said. “You served your blowjob-mandated sentence, but I hereby grant you early release for good behavior.”
“Dump her,” Ronan said.
“Or what he said.”
I snorted a laugh at my friends as Evelyn Gonzalez approached. She wore a short, tight skirt, breast-hugging T-shirt, and her long black hair flowed in waves over her small, lithe stature. I took inventory of her assets with the same enthusiasm I used to take inventory of the prizes at the arcade. She was another beautiful girl in a school of beautiful girls that my heart—and aforementioned “magical” dick—didn’t give a crap about.
Including my own girlfriend.
“Ah ha! Answers,” Holden said as Evelyn joined us. “Miss TMZ, do you know why the entire school is making eyes at our Miller?”
“Maybe,” she said, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes under cat-eye liner. “Now shoo. I need to talk to my Miller, alone.”
“This is our spot,” Ronan intoned.
“Fine. Miller, can we go somewhere private?”
“Sure,” I said and hopped down off the wall.
“Did you hear about his magical dick too?” Holden called after. “How am I the last to know?”
I gave him the finger behind my back as Evelyn led me to a bench under a huge oak tree. For all her confident calm, she was practically bouncing in her skin as she took a Mac Air out of her stylish leather backpack.
“Getting some attention this morning, are you?” she said, powering it up.
“Do you know why?”
“I do.” She turned her Mac screen to face me. “This is my fashion vlog. You’ll note the subscriber count is well over fifty thousand.”
“Congrats?”
“Don’t be an ass. As of last week, I had half that. But thanks to you…”
She hit play on one of her highly produced videos. After she gave a brief intro about me, the screen flashed to a compilation of my performances: Chance’s party, Violet’s YouTube video, and the Winter Talent Show.
“That’s why everyone’s staring at you.”
I frowned. “That was Violet’s YouTube video. Which she deleted.”
Out of morbid curiosity, I had gone on YouTube to see if the video of me performing “All I’ll Ever Want” had gained traction or was only a breeding ground for snarky comments, but it was gone.
“I deleted it,” Evelyn said.
“Uh…why? How?”
“When River stood her up on Homecoming night, Violet dropped her phone and ran out.”
I clenched my jaw. It wasn’t news to me what that bastard had done, but it still pissed me off that he’d humiliated her like that in front of the entire school.
“Anyway, her phone was in my possession for more than twenty-four hours, and I’m a very curious person by nature. I found the video—”
“You snooped in her phone?”
“Relax. Girls share everything. Anyway, I found the video of you playing, and it was…wow. Just fucking wow.”
For a second, Evelyn’s carefully crafted and stylized artifice came down, and she looked truly moved. Then she shook her head.
“On a hunch,” she continued, “I googled your name to see if that video, or any others from Chance’s party, were up. That’s when I found Violet’s sad little YouTube channel. She was already logged in from her phone, so it was easy enough to go in and delete it.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t just throw your commodities onto the internet for free.”
“But you can put it on your vlog? You fucking stole it—”
“I repurposed it. It’s worth too much. I put it where it would bring me some ad revenue and help you get exposure.”
“Jesus, how long have you been planning this?”
“Since Homecoming. Chance’s party performance was great, but I needed one more ace. Proof that you could rock a crowd. The Winter Talent Show fit that bill quite nicely. But then we went to Barbados for Christmas and the whole thing to
ok some time to produce…” She rolled her hand in lazy circles. “Long story short, this weekend, you were the subject of my vlog’s first ever musical spotlight. My subscribers got a taste of your talent, and as of this morning, the video of you singing ‘All I’ll Ever Want’ has been reblogged and shared on Twitter and TikTok thousands of times and counting.” She smiled triumphantly. “Oh, I forgot to mention, I have huge TikTok and Twitter followings too.”
I tried to absorb the fact my performances had reached a shit-ton of people. “Do they…like it?”
Again, Evelyn’s face softened. “Oh honey, of course they do. They love it. They love you. You should read the comments. Here, let me give you a sample.”
I waved my hands. “No, no. I…” I couldn’t feel this way. This hopeful. It wouldn’t stick.
Nothing did. “Why would you do this? Just to promote yourself?”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh. But also to promote you. I’m your ticket to stardom. But we have some work to do. For starters, we need more video. Preferably of you doing covers like that amazeballs, ‘Yellow.’ Your own song is beautiful, but if someone wants an original Miller Stratton EP, then they need to pay for it. Plus, people love it when someone slays a song they know and recognize. It forms a connection—”
“Wait, hold on. What are you saying? You want to put me on your vlog and hope it goes viral?”
“Honey, you’re already viral. Why do you think half the student body—especially the female half—has been drooling over you from afar all morning?”
“So, what’s the upshot? We make more videos?”
“After we give you a little makeover of course.”
“No fucking way.”
“Do you want to have a career in music or not?”
I sat back against the bench. I wanted to make music--and enough cash to take care of Mom, get rid of Chet, and never again have to choose between groceries or keeping the lights on. Or see an eviction notice on our door. My memories shuffled through months of washing my hair in gas station bathrooms, and cramming my long legs into the back seat of the station wagon while the forest night was thick and breathing outside the window, and Mom was out trying to bring home a few bucks…
