by Mia Harlan
I shake my head. My hand flies up to my bare collarbone then down into the pocket of my dress pants. The fractured pieces dig into my palm, but I only squeeze tighter.
“I’m not falling for your little act, Princess.” He somehow manages to twist my favorite word. To turn it ugly.
“I—”
“You.” Silas stalks toward me and I take nervous steps back. “You don’t belong here.”
“I—”
“You don’t know how to choreograph a song. Or run a rehearsal.”
“I—”
“You weren’t even prepared.”
“I was!” I cry. Silas ignores me.
He stalks forward until he has me pressed up with my back against the wall. He’s crowding my personal space, looming menacingly, and my heart rate spikes.
“You are the reason we don’t have a song.” His eyes are cold, his tone harsh. “I was this close to finishing it and you ruined it. If you’d never showed up, we would have had this audition in the bag. Instead, we’re stuck with your crap!”
I flinch.
“Was that your plan all along? Was it?” Silas shouts and I start to shake. “I looked into you the moment you tried to mess with my a cappella group. With my school. Oh, don’t look so shocked. Did you really think you could pretend to be a student here?”
I shake my head even as the rest of me trembles.
“Did Vibrato Lap send you?” Silas slams his hand against the wall. “Did they?”
I flinch and my hands fly up to cover my face, one still clenching pieces of necklace in a tight fist.
“I’m not going to hit you! Damn it!” Silas backs away, but he’s still shouting. “Don’t play games with me, Roonie. You can pretend you’re just some innocent little girl all you want but I have you all figured out. Coming in here with that pathetic song. Pretending to help. Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to cry now too, little girl. Let me guess, drama student?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and tighten my grip on my pendant. I’m sure I must have pierced skin, but I can’t feel a thing.
“You listen carefully, Roonie Hill. The guys and I are going to fix that pathetic excuse for a song you tried to screw us over with. We’re going to get into that competition and we’re going to crush your precious Vibrato Lap.”
My ears ring and his words barely register. He waits for my response and when I don’t give one, he goes right back to shouting.
“Walk away, Roonie Hill. Understand?” He shifts his weight forward. “I want you to walk out that door and never come back. And if I ever see your face here again, you’ll regret it.”
He glares at me, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place with my back against the wall and my heart hammering in my ears.
“Go!” Silas shouts, his tone so loud and menacing that it breaks through my terror. And I break into a run.
Chapter 31
Unthinking, unfeeling, I race out of the rehearsal room. The door slams behind me and my heart nearly bursts out of my chest. Between my eyes stinging with unshed tears and the burning fear, all I can do is run: down the hall, then down the stairs, and through the echoing lobby.
Silas doesn’t chase after me. His words do. They ring through my head, over and over, stuck on a torturous loop. I’m not going to hit you! That pathetic excuse for a song! Did Vibrato Lap send you?
I’ve never heard of Vibrato Lap, but I know enough about a cappella to figure out it’s a rival group. Is my song really so bad that Silas would think it was meant to sabotage them?
When I’m finally free of the Beckett Hall an overcast sky greets me. It forecasts rain, but the campus is still littered with students. They go about their day, living their dreams. Too bad I’ll never get to live mine.
Father was right—I’ll never amount to anything. Silas was right—I’m not good enough to be here. Everyone who made fun of me in high school was right—I’ll always just be that weird girl who’d start singing in class.
Worst of all, I was right—I don’t deserve a happy ending.
With a whimper, I stumble down the steps. If I were Cinderella, I’d at least lose a slipper, but my ballet flats hang on tight, mocking me. I try to turn that into a song and escape into a fairy tale, but someone set up speakers right outside the building. They blast Latin music and the song in my head fizzles out and disappears.
I need to get out of here.
I turn toward the dorms and stop. I can’t go back there after the way Silas warned me off. Even if I did, what would be the point? The guys are probably still getting takeout, talking about the failed rehearsal that was all my fault. I wouldn’t be surprised if they regret putting their faith in me. If they want me gone.
My heart sinks.
For a brief instant, the three of them made me happy. They made it seem like it was okay for me to hum and randomly break into song. They convinced me that my fairy tale creations were more than just some silly tunes. They even showed me that life could be more than endless chores and fruitless attempts to please Father.
They were wrong.
My only choice now is to go home. I thought that part of my life was over, that Father would never lay a hand on me again, but what else can I do? Maybe if I can stop myself from singing long enough to serve Father’s meals, it won’t be so bad. It’s the best I can hope for, since I’m not good at anything else.
There’s no point reapplying to college next year and I’ll never get a half-decent job. I should be grateful to have a place to live and food on the table. Assuming Father lets me come home.
I break into a run, trying to escape my own thoughts.
Pulsating beats mask the sound of my pounding footsteps as I race across campus. A group of dancers expertly executing a routine stumble at the sight of me. Everyone I pass stops to stare. Even the small group of students decked out for a renaissance fair gape at me.
Cursed mermaids with flowing rivers of tears don’t belong at LUV Academy.
I run faster, down the same path Tate and I took on our way into campus. It had felt so magical then, like the entire scene had been pulled straight out of a fairy tale. Now, I finally see it for what it really is. Grim, like Charles’s book of fairy tales.
All the little shops have lost their luster. The grass is covered with litter—candy wrappers, discarded scraps of paper, and…is that a used condom? Buildings loom over me, grim giants shaking their fists and urging me to leave. Even they don’t think I belong here.
I push through the campus gates and enter the forest. The sky turns dark and a lone raindrop falls from the sky, urging me to move. It’s joined by another, then another. By the time I exit the forest, I’m trembling from the cold. My thin silk blouse provides almost no protection from the elements.
Like the day I left home, the streets are empty, and the houses lit up. This time, seeing the happy families through the windows doesn’t just remind me of my mom, it makes me think of the guys.
I wish I was a good enough songwriter, so I could have stayed with them. If I had just managed to get them through rehearsal, maybe…but there’s no use thinking about it. I’ll never be the kind of songwriter their a cappella group needs.
When I finally reach home, my chest burns and my feet sting. I know what Father will say at the sight of me and take time to catch my breath. I run my fingers through my hair and swipe at my face with the yellow silk sleeve of my blouse. It leaves a large, wet stain and I roll up my sleeves to hide the mess.
When I’m finally presentable, I squeeze my fractured heart pendant for courage and trudge up the front steps. I even raise my hand to knock…
I can’t do it. I can’t go back to my life with Father when all my bruises have only just started to heal. Not after the fairy tale dream my princes showed me: singing with Tate and talking about songwriting with Charles; JJ, cooking me delicious meals; Tate and Charles getting fancy takeout; my Prince Charming and his teasing kisses; Charles with his rougher, all-consuming ones; JJ tugging on a str
and of my hair, making flirtatious remarks I’m sure he doesn’t mean.
My longing for them is like a physical hurt. I want to go back, need to go back. But what would be the point? They won’t want me, not after I’ve let them down. That audition is important to them, and they’re going to fail. Because of me.
I don’t know how to fix my song with the guys standing in the wrong spots, singing the wrong lines. Even if I could master the fancy terminology, like stage left and house right, I don’t have enough time to convert one of my better songs into an a cappella performance.
Even if I could, who’s to say that rehearsal won’t turn into a mess, too? I don’t know how to choreograph a performance. I don’t understand ‘symmetry’ the way Silas does. I just wish I could bring the magical song in my head to life.
And then one day their paths crossed
And it was fate.
A love story for all time
Within the castle gates.
“Will you stop that ruckus, girl?” Father shouts from inside.
The front door flies open and I take a stumbling step back, away from what could quickly turn into flying fists.
“Knew you’d be back. You and your whiny voice.” He gestures at me with the beer bottle. “Still a mess, I see.”
If anyone’s a mess, it’s him. His grey Bulldogs hoodie and black shorts are wrinkled, and I don’t think he’s changed clothes or shaved, since the day I left. He reeks of sweat, and his scraggly hair is plastered to his face. I may not have done a lot right in my life, but at least I’d kept Father looking better than this.
“What are you waiting for?” He opens the door wider. “Get in here or get the hell out of my face. Because mark my words, Roonie Hill, if you’re not in this house by the time I count to ten, you are never coming back.”
Chapter 32
A wave of panic seizes me. I know I have to get inside the house before Father changes his mind, before he leaves me homeless, with nowhere to go. Just like the day I left, I’ve only got twenty-three dollars in my pocket. I don’t even have a phone, since I forgot Tate’s back at the apartment; not that I’d feel right taking it.
“Roonie Hill, you get inside. Now!” Father white-knuckles his beer.
I jump. Instinctively, I start to back away and Father’s eyes narrow.
“Don’t play games with me, girl!” He snaps. “I raised you. I took care of you. Put a roof over your head and food in your mouth.” He shakes his head and his tone goes soft. “Go on, now.”
I nod and slip my hand in my pocket. The cold, sharp pieces of my fractured heart dig into my palm, giving me courage, and I step inside.
The house is one big, stinky mess. Beer bottles, half-finished takeout containers, and dirty dishes litter every surface. Spilled and discarded food mars floorboards I’d spent hours cleaning. Stained, wrinkled clothes are strewn everywhere. It’s like a scene from my worst nightmare.
Father grabs his tablet and settles on the couch with a satisfied groan. “Well, girl? You think I’m running a hotel?” He shakes his head. “You want to live here, you earn your keep. So start cleaning.”
I nod and numbly head to the kitchen. There are stacks upon stacks of precariously-balanced dirty dishes. I don’t even bother to change out of my damp clothes before I get to work.
Minutes blend into hours. When I’m done in the kitchen, I move onto the living room, where Father is snoring happily.
I purse my lips. I bet Silas is lounging on the couch back at the apartment. I squeeze my hands into fists as I picture him with his black boots propped up on the coffee table, laughing at my song. He switched up all my harmonies. He moved the guys around because of some explanation about ‘symmetry.’ He’s the reason my song didn’t sound right.
A part of me wants to scream, but I don’t dare wake Father. Instead, I seethe as I quietly clean around his sleeping form.
I may not be a talented songwriter and I may not have gotten into college—but Silas messed up my song. He may not have done it on purpose. He may genuinely think I’d been trying to sabotage him and my princes. But the end result was the same. My song didn’t sound right because of him.
Maybe, if I show the guys what it should sound like, they’ll see it, too.
I take a step toward the front door but hesitate. If I leave now, Father won’t let me come back. And even if I can fix that song, I doubt my princes will let me stay. Silas probably turned them against me, and even if he hasn’t, I bet he’s taken my spot on their couch. I doubt there’s any place left for me.
I glance back at Father, who’s snoring amidst a mess of his own making. The sight makes me cringe. I can’t keep cleaning up after him. Even if it is only fair that I earn my keep until I get a job. And I can’t take any more beatings.
I have to get out of here.
My wallet and phone are in my room upstairs, but the house is old, and the stairs creak. If I try to get them, Father could wake up. He might try to stop me.
My heart hammers in my chest as I break into a run. I leave my stuff behind and retrace my steps back to campus. It’s raining heavily now, and the cold seeps into my bones. I reach the dorms soaked and shivering. I don’t even care if Silas is inside or if my princes are convinced I betrayed them. All I can think about is getting warm again. It’s gotten to the point that by the time I reach the apartment, I’m barely able to lift my frozen hand long enough to knock.
“I bet it’s her.” JJ throws the door open. When he sees me, his eyes widen, and he scoops me up in his arms. Warmth envelops me and my shaking intensifies. “I’ve left a lot of girls wet and trembling, but this is definitely a first.” He winks, but I’m too cold to blush. I just snuggle into his warmth.
“Roonie?” Charles jumps to his feet. His massive frame pushes the couch back, and it squeaks across the hardwood floor.
“Is that her?” A door flies open at the other end of the apartment, and Tate runs out. When he sees me, he gasps. “You’re freezing!”
“Mmm f-f-fine.” I barely get the words past my trembling lips.
“We’re going to warm you up,” JJ says, his voice rough with worry. “Tate, get the water running.”
Tate rushes into the bathroom. He leaves the door open for JJ and me to follow and steps under the running shower with his clothes on. His t-shirt gets soaked and clings to his muscular chest. Watching him, I feel warm and cold at the same time.
“Not too warm,” Charles warns. I realize he’s talking about the water.
Tate adjust the temperature. “I got her.”
JJ hands me over and slides the shower door shut, leaving me alone with Tate. My Prince Charming holds me tightly against his chest and spins us around. Suddenly, I’m under a stream of water which feels scalding hot. It burns my freezing limbs and I let out a surprised cry.
Tate murmurs comforting words and holds me until my body adjusts. I even stop trembling long enough to string together a few words. “I c-can stand.”
“I don’t mind holding you.” Tate smiles down at me.
“Please?”
Tate nods and gently sets me down on my feet. Then he wraps his arms around me in a strong, warm hug. “Why were you out in the rain?”
“I…I went home.” I swallow the lump that forms in my throat.
Tate pulls back a little so he can watch me as he waits for me to elaborate.
“You live in town?” Charles’s voice echoes from outside the shower. When I don’t answer right away, he slides the shower door open so he can look at me.
“I…I don’t want to talk about it.” What if my princes think less of me once they find out about Father? What if they think I brought it onto myself? Or they think I should go back?
I’m terrified Charles will press for answers, but Tate shakes his head. Charles grunts and steps into the shower stall instead.
“Don’t! You’ll ruin your…” I squeak, but it’s too late. “…clothes.”
“It’s fine,” Charles grumbles. He moves beh
ind me so that he’s standing under the heavy stream of water in his dress pants and white button-down shirt.
I’m suddenly sandwiched between him and Tate and my heart starts to pound in my chest.
“You’re shivering,” Tate whispers, oblivious to the fact that he and Charles are making me tremble.
He starts to rub his hands up and down my arms and Charles takes a step closer, until I’m plastered against my two princes. Until every single breath is a physical push against Tate’s hard chest.
“Any room for me in there?” JJ teases from outside the shower stall.
My face feels impossibly hot. I instinctively try to cover it with my hands, but my arms are pinned at my sides. Charles is plastered to my back and Tate is stuck to my front, making it impossible to move. My nipples tighten as they rub against Tate’s chest and I gasp.
“Are you getting warmer, Roonie?” JJ winks “If you’re not, I’m sure I can help.”
“Y-yes! I mean no. I’m fine.”
“I told you Roonie wouldn’t just leave,” Tate says. “No matter what Silas said.”
I tense. “W-what did he say?”
“Just that you went home.” The hurt in Tate’s voice is unmistakable. “Why did you leave, Roo Roo?”
“I…” I suck in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I screwed up the song.”
“We don’t care about the song.” Tate squeezes me tight. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
“You are?” I whisper, suddenly breathless.
“We are,” Charles rumbles against my back.
“We looked everywhere for you, Roon,” JJ adds. I frown at the nickname but the way he leans his hand on the shower door, biceps bulging, distracts me. He reaches forward and loops a strand of my soaking wet hair around his finger, completely oblivious to the fact that his shirt sleeve is getting wet. “We searched all over campus, the music building—even the forest.”
A lump forms in my throat. “You looked for me?”
