by Emma Scott
“Yes,” I blurted. “I do.”
Evelyn smiled. “Then this is how we do it. Trust. We shoot a few more songs, build a bigger following, and the world is going to stand up and take notice. You’ll be whisked off to LA and the rest is history.”
I sincerely doubted it would be that easy, but what did I have to lose?
“And what do you get out of it?” I asked, my suspicions swooping back in. “I know you’re not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. I’m that dirty kid who lived in a car, remember?”
She shrugged, not put off by my accusation. “A diamond in the rough can only shine if someone scrapes off the dirt. And of course, I’m not doing this for free. I have my demands.”
“Which are?”
She shouldered her backpack as the first bell rang. “I’ll let you know when the time comes, but you have to swear to uphold your end.”
“How can I do that if I don’t know what your demands are?” I shot her a look. “I’m not killing anyone for you.”
She laughed. “I promise it’s not something illegal.” She offered her long, lacquer-nailed hand. “Deal?”
My eternal pessimism told me this was fucking crazy, but where had listening to that voice gotten me?
I took her hand. “Deal.”
We sealed it with one shake and then she jumped off the bench. “Great. Meet me at my house after school today.”
“Can’t. I work. Sunday is my only day.”
She heaved a sigh. “Fine. Sunday. I’ll text you the address.”
“How did you get my phone number?”
“I had Violet’s phone for an entire day, remember?” She glanced at my T-shirt under an unbuttoned plaid flannel and tapped her fingernail to her chin. “This adorable scruffy look works but needs accessories…”
“Hell, no,” I said. “I’m not dressing up as someone I’m not.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you won’t. Luckily, this works for us. Rags to riches… Humble beginnings.” She touched her finger to the tip of my nose. “Leave it to me. I got you, boo.”
Evelyn strode away, leaving me with a weird feeling in my chest. Her plan was nuts. The chances of anything coming of it were slim. Weren’t they?
She’d said a diamond in the rough can only shine if someone scrapes off the dirt. The dust. And that’s when I recognized the feeling in my chest. Hope.
Chapter Fourteen
I carried the cup of steaming tea into Nancy Whitmore’s bedroom. Spring was fast approaching, bringing warmer weather with it. A beam of brilliant afternoon sunlight fell over her, and I beamed with it.
She’s getting better.
Somehow, against all medical odds, Nancy’s stage IV cancer was on a pause. Not in remission, but her tumor had shrunk and the cocktail of medications she took every day was holding it at bay. Giving her time.
Dazia, her best friend, was in town again, and her smile matched mine.
“Ah yes, she looks radiant, doesn’t she?” she said in her faint accent. Over the last few months, I’d learned that Dazia was from Croatia and that she and Nancy had been roommates at Washington University. Friends for life, like Shiloh and me.
“You do look radiant,” I said to Nancy and sat on the other side of the bed. “I’m sad that my time as your PCV is ending. But it seems you won’t be needing me anyway.”
Nancy smiled. Her skin was no longer sallow, and she’d gained a few pounds. “You’re sweet to stay with me so long. I’ll miss you.”
“Me too,” I said, my throat thick.
Over the last few months, I’d come to look forward to being with her. Her calm tone and gentle wisdom felt so maternal, especially since my own mom was caught up in her own turmoil with Dad.
“Would you mind giving us a minute, Daz? I’d like to have a word with Violet.”
“Uh oh.” Dazia grinned. “I feel a Nancy Talk coming on.” She pinched my cheek on the way out. “She’s a wonderful schoolteacher but missed her calling as a therapist.”
“Agree,” I said with a smile, though it faded fast. I suspected I knew what Nancy wanted to talk about.
“It’s not about River,” she said as soon as the door clicked shut behind Dazia.
I laughed. “Am I that transparent?”
“You wear your emotions all over your sweet face.” She took my hand in hers. “I know you haven’t forgiven him for standing you up at Homecoming. I can imagine that must’ve been very humiliating.”
“A bit. But I have forgiven him. I’ve told him a hundred times I’ve forgiven him. I don’t understand why he keeps asking to see me.”
Nancy pursed her lips. “You’ll have to discuss that with him. He knows I’m disappointed in him for what he did to you, but I don’t want to pry into his business beyond that. I’d prefer he come to me about personal things when he’s ready. But what I wanted to talk to you about was you.”
“Me?”
“You seem so sad lately, and I know it’s not because of my son.” She cocked her scarf-wrapped head. “You know that same policy I have for him extends to you. No pressure to share anything with me. I just want you to know that my door is open.”
My fingers plucked the coverlet. “My parents are not happy. They fight a lot and…there’s some other stuff going on with them that I don’t want to bore you with.”
As much as I loved Nancy, there was no way I was going to air my family’s suspected financial issues with her.
“Anything else?” Nancy asked gently, in a way that said, I know there’s something else.
“Yes.” I sighed. “But as much as I’d love your advice, I’m not sure it’s appropriate to talk to you about another boy.”
Nancy patted my hand. “Because I’m River’s mom. I get it. How about you tell me what’s bothering you and leave out the details? Not the who, what, and where. Just how you feel. But only if you want to.”
“I do want to. Desperately. The last time my mom and I had ‘girl talk’ it consisted of her making an appointment for me to see a gynecologist.”
Nancy’s lips made a thin line, then she smiled. “I’m here.”
I met her clear blue eyes and tears filled mine. “I screwed it up.”
“Okay.”
“I was so afraid of losing him or having our beautiful friendship fall apart, that I pushed him away. I pushed him to someone else, and our friendship is hanging by a thread anyway. Everything I was afraid of happening, happened, but not how I feared it would.”
Nancy offered me a tissue from her box. “Reminds me of that old proverb, A person often meets her destiny on the road she takes to avoid it.”
“There’s a picture of me right next to that quote in a book somewhere.” I stared down at the tissue in my hands. “God, I’m such a coward.”
“You’re not a coward.” Nancy’s voice was firm. “How many times did you see Mr. Whitmore in here last winter?”
“Not very much. I figured he was working…”
“He was. But he was also scared. River and Amelia, too. They got over it, but it took time. It’s very difficult to look at someone you love and see only the day they might leave you.” Her voice gentled. “The urge to protect one’s heart is the strongest urge of all. But it’s also impossible if you want to live a rich, full life.”
I thought back to the night Miller almost died in my arms. And seeing him outside the dance with Amber. The pain was knifelike and brutal. There was nothing rich or full about a life without Miller in it. Or watching him be with someone else.
Especially when I was the one who drove him away.
I dried my tears and put on a smile. “Thanks for talking with me.”
“But you don’t believe me,” she said gently.
“I appreciate your advice, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me, and I can’t mess up what he has with…her. They’ve been together for months now. The last thing I want is to cause any mo
re trouble.” I smiled grimly. “Another proverb: I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.”
Alone.
I got to my feet. “I’ll go tell Dazia she’s no longer banished.”
At the door, Nancy’s voice stopped me. “If we were all born perfect and wise, always making the right decisions and never any mistakes, there wouldn’t be much point in living, would there?” I turned, and she was smiling knowingly at me. “Life’s a journey, not a destination.”
I smiled. “I see what you did there. Your proverb game is strong, Mrs. W.”
She laughed, full and throaty. And healthy.
“And so are you, Violet. More than you know.”
I left Nancy’s room, shutting the door behind me, and crashed headlong into River. My nose smarted from meeting the hard planes of his chest. He wore jeans and his letterman jacket over a T-shirt and smelled faintly of motor oil from his dad’s shop.
“Oh, hey,” I said, rubbing my nose. I looked up. And up. The guy was a mountain and as gorgeous as ever, and yet, my heart didn’t so much as flutter to be this close to him.
“Hey,” he said. “Do you have a minute? I want to talk to you.”
“River, I told you. We’re cool.”
“I know. But I…” He rubbed the back of his neck and then pulled me away from his mom’s room. “I want you to give me a second chance.”
“We’ve been over this. I don’t think—”
“I like you, Violet.”
I blinked. “You do?”
“Well…yeah. I think we make a good pair.”
I scrunched my nose. “We do? We hardly speak to each other.”
He huffed in frustration. “Look, I’ve been crazy-busy all winter and haven’t had time to catch my breath. My dad put all kinds of pressure on me to play well and get into an NCAA Top Ten school. Scouts were crawling all over the field every practice and watching every game. It’s been insane.”
“I get that, but—”
“But football season is over now.” He took both my hands in his. Lightly. “I want us to try again. And this time, I won’t flake on you, I swear.”
“We’ve never really talked or hung out.”
“That’s my fault, because I’ve been so busy. You know how it is, right? Getting your college apps together?”
“Yeah, that was nerve-wracking as hell,” I said with a laugh. “Worse, I put in for early decision. I should be hearing back any day now.”
I’d applied to UC Santa Cruz, of course, and then UCSF, Georgetown, Baylor, and the University of Cincinnati for back-up. Just thinking about getting the letter with UCSC on the envelope made me queasy with excitement.
River misread the light in my eyes. He smiled and a hint of his usual, insouciant charm returned. The casual confidence of the star quarterback who could get any girl he wanted.
So why me?
“Just promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”
He bent and kissed my cheek, leaving me in the hallway with the warm feel of his lips and the slight scratch of his stubble on my skin.
I sighed. I had thought about it. About him. But the problem with thinking about River Whitmore these days was that my thoughts immediately pivoted right to Miller Stratton. He’d set up permanent residence in my mind and my heart, and there was no room for anyone else.
Too late. I fell in love with my best friend and I’m too late.
“Hey, you,” Shiloh said, falling in step beside me after school the next day. She wore billowy bohemian pants and a sleeveless linen shirt, her braids pulled back from her elegant neck. Earthy metal jewelry of her own creation glinted in the late afternoon sun. “You’re a hard person to get a hold of these days.”
“Sorry. Busy with school and now soccer practice. First game is coming up.” I glanced at her sideways. My friend was always beautiful, but she looked extra radiant lately. “And I could say the same about you. I feel like it’s been ages since we hung out. What have you been doing lately?”
And who with?
“Because it has been ages,” she said, avoiding my question. “But we’re here to talk about you. Specifically, you and Miller.”
I stopped and shook my head. “There is no ‘me and Miller.’ Remember Homecoming? Do you need an episode recap?”
“Don’t be bitter; it’s not your style.” Her lips pursed. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ve been patient with both you and Miller, and Amber is a friend, but enough is enough.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means…”
Her words trailed as she spied something over my shoulder. I turned to look, and my throat tightened to see Miller and Amber walking hand-in-hand to the front of the school. A heavy ball smacked my chest and then sunk into my stomach. She was on her phone, and his gaze was out and away. They walked as far apart from each other as possible except for their tethered hands. As if it were the only thing keeping them from floating off in different directions.
Shiloh gave my arm a gentle squeeze, bringing me back around. “You see that body language? Do they look like a happy couple in love?”
I flinched at her choice of words. “That’s just one moment in time. Who knows what they’re like alone?”
At night. In his bed.
God, my stupid heart had no right to ache at the thought. Of course he’d lost his virginity to her by now. Or hell, maybe to someone during any of the years in which I’d kept him locked in the Friend Zone. And he had every right.
He waited for me long enough.
“Hey,” Shiloh said, dragging me from my thoughts. “I know what they’re like alone because they both tell me. In a word, he’s miserable. And she’s frustrated and on the brink of dumping his ass.”
I didn’t hear much after miserable. “He is? But why stay with her? Why date her in the first place?”
Shiloh’s voice softened. “Why do you think? To get over you.”
A moment passed as I took this in. I swallowed my tears down. “I don’t know what to say, Shi. They’re together now and—”
“Trust me. It’s not serious.”
“Homecoming looked pretty serious to me.”
She sighed. “I know. I warned Miller not to get involved with Amber and he did it anyway. Now he’s trying his best to be a good guy. I’m sure he even likes her, but I’m not sure he’ll ever be over you.”
I tried to keep my face neutral and my voice steady. “So why not break up?”
“Because he’s doing the honorable thing. Because things went too far that night, and he doesn’t want to bail on her. Because he is a good guy, even if he’s stubborn as hell.” She arched a brow. “You two have that in common.”
I shook my head. “What am I supposed to do, Shi? Barge into their relationship and then what? What happens next? It’s not like my fears of us being ruined have magically evaporated.”
“Uh huh. And how’s not even talking to him working out for you? He’s miserable but so are you. Neither one of you are capable of being happy without the other. At the very least, you guys need to fix your friendship. Start there and see what happens.”
“How do you know all this stuff about him and Amber anyway? From her?”
Shiloh began to walk, and I followed to catch up. “And him. I’m getting it in stereo.”
“Does Miller…talk to you a lot?”
“Sort of. I’ve been hanging out with the so-called Lost Boys at their beach shack under the Lighthouse Cliffs.”
Jealousy stabbed me in the gut. “I wasn’t aware that they had a shack.”
“Because you’ve been so busy with your college apps and study loads and not talking to Miller.” She smiled and looked away. “It’s nice. Bonfires at night… The guys drink beer and behave like horses’ asses most of the time, but it’s…nice.”
“Miller invited you?”
“No, Ronan.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? Since when are you two friendly? He sits right next to you in our History class and you never
talk.”
She waved a hand. “He’s an asshole. I can barely tolerate him, but it’s worth it to sit and watch the ocean, and nothing smells better than a beach bonfire. And I say all this because it’s high time you were there too.”
“I’m not going anywhere I’m not wanted, Shi,” I said. “Being stood up at Homecoming in front of the entire school aside, I still have a shred of dignity.”
“On that note, Miller told me Evelyn Gonzalez stole your phone that night, took the video of him singing ‘All I’ll Ever Want,’ and put it on her vlog.”
My mouth fell open. “She did what?”
Shiloh pulled out her phone. “I was hoping you gave her permission, but I guess she even didn’t tell you.”
“She returned it to me the next day but didn’t say a word about Miller. She and I haven’t been…close lately.”
But she and Miller are?
I watched the vlog footage, marveling through my shock at Miller’s beautiful voice, his talent, and that sexy-as-hell way he’d taken off his beanie to run his hand through his hair. Moments after that song ended, he’d kissed me…
The video finished. “That explains why everyone’s been smiling and being nice to him.”
“Oh, you noticed that too?” Shiloh put her phone away. “Yeah, he’s suddenly the town famous person.”
“They should be nice to him, but they should’ve been nice to him this entire time. Not just because of this.”
“Agreed.” Shiloh put her arm around me. “You’ve always treated him the way he’s deserved to be treated. Come to the Shack. You’re wanted there. Believe me.” She gave me a squeeze. “And not just by me.”
A few days later, I worked up the nerve to take Shiloh up on her offer. As the sun set behind the ocean, she led me on a crazy path over jagged, porous boulders, while the tide washed over our ankles.
“You’re not taking me out here to murder me, are you?” I asked, tripping over a tangle of seaweed while protectively clutching a paper bag holding the six-pack of beer I’d stolen from Dad—an offering to the Lost Boys for having me at their bonfire. My Converse were drenched, and the rolled-up cuffs of my jeans were damp. “This is getting a little rough, Shi.”
