by Anna Bloom
“Should have given me the scholarship,” Alex mumbled.
“Alex! Don’t be so ridiculous.” Jensen glared with open mouthed disdain. “The same as Miriam. You two don’t need a scholarship.”
“It’s not the money though is it? It’s the fame.”
Francine chucked her son under his chin. “Darling, you will have all the fame you need.”
I took another sip of my drink to hide my smirk.
Thankfully, the waiter brought over the mains and stopped all further conversation about Lyra and her scholarship. I didn’t need indigestion with my steak.
One thing had become clear. I had a week to get Lyra to play. Whatever the hell might be wrong with her, and as much as I might want to ruin her brother, I wasn’t about to let the Collins family steal the moment from me.
Chapter Fifteen
Lyra
“Plllleeeeaaase come with me.” Eva lashed on some black eyeliner and then smudged it around the edges, giving her makeup an enviable smoky effect.
“I can’t. It’s my second shift at work.” I stretched out on my tummy across my bed, my legs kicked up as I tried to read through my ‘Understanding Poetry’ textbook.
She eyed me through the reflection of the mirror. “And where did you get a job again?”
“You won’t know it.” I shrugged and picked at a loose cotton on my new duvet cover. I say new, it had been on for over a week. Grams would tell me I’d get bed bugs if I didn’t wash it soon. In the basement of Hamilton there lived a washing machine that looked nearly as old as the building itself. The whole basement looked like a scene from a horror movie. I didn’t plan to go down there unless I wanted to be murdered—which could well be soon.
Since Jack had left yesterday morning, a gray cloud of dismay had settled itself over my heart, its wispy fingers wrapping me tight in a dark mood.
I didn’t know what I’d been thinking. Maybe that he was just surprised to see me here, although I didn’t know why. He was the one who’d suggested all those years ago that I aimed to attend this college. Maybe he thought I’d never get in, which was true, I nearly hadn’t.
I couldn’t even think back to the painful application process. The call to say the Collins Foundation wanted to offer me a last-minute scholarship was nothing short of a surprise. A big one. Not all that welcome if I were being honest.
A knock rapped on our door and when Eva showed no sign of stopping curling her eyelashes to open it, I rolled off my bed and padded the floor.
Brittany, George, and Alex clustered the other side of the door, Brittany holding a bottle of tequila in a death grip.
“Lyra!” Alex pulled me into a tight hug. “What’s this about you working and not partying?” I shot a glare at Eva who looked like butter wouldn’t melt.
“It’s fine. And anyway, I need to get ready for class tomorrow. I wouldn’t be partying anyway.”
I flinched at the prospect of tomorrow’s lectures, but more at the thought of my one-on-one practice session with the world’s most asshole teaching aide.
“Now you see, Little Lyra.” Alex flung a casual arm across my shoulders, but it weighed heavy, making me stoop a little and curve my back. “You’ve got it all backward. Parties first, lecture prep second.”
“Easy for you to say.” I laughed and managed to step out from under his arm. “Right, I need to go.”
“What bar are you working at?” Brittany asked. She made the word ‘work’ sound dirty.
“Just a small one. I doubt you’d know it.”
Alex glanced over at me, but I quickly turned to grab my purse and jacket. “Have a good time.”
“Oh we will.” Alex winked, but Eva had her attention focused on the bottle of tequila, laughing with Brittany as they tried to take the cap off.
I slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind me, my Blue’s bar tee shoved in my backpack.
It seemed silly not wanting them to know where I’d managed to get work. I mean, they’d all been happy enough to party there the week before.
That could be an issue. I’d have to admit to working at the place they went to for fun...
I pushed it from my mind. No one could ever accuse a Lennox of being scared of hard work, and they wouldn’t be able to now either. Well, unless you were my mom who very much had the mindset of, ‘Work, what’s that?’.
I forced her from my mind. I’d learned a long time ago, if I didn’t give her rental space in my head then she could no longer let me down.
Survival 101.
How to be a Lennox.
I got a cab from the security lodge. The nice old dude seemed to be exactly on the ball when he asked me to sign out and tell him what time I’d be back. I could only wonder where he’d been the week before when half the dorm had walked out all at once without a backward glance.
The cab pulled up outside Blue’s bar and my stomach twisted into mutant butterflies who all wanted to emerge from their chrysalis in one glorious flight. A flight which nearly took the route of me hurling over the taxi’s back seat.
Scrambling for my bag, I launched myself out of the door before I could ruin the upholstery. A queue already stretched down the sidewalk and around the corner. On a Sunday night?
Eddie… I thought that was his name anyway, stood guard at the door, his arms folded like a shield. “Hey, pretty girl, you came back?” He gave me a gold-toothed grin and I shot him one back. He kind of reminded me of a brawny teddy bear, not that I’d likely say that to his face.
“So I go through?” I nodded at his red rope.
He chuckled, a deep rumble. “Unless you want to pay for entry and the pleasure of cleaning these loser’s glasses all night?”
I pretended to think on it. “Think I’ll pass.”
“Pretty and clever.” He unhooked the rope and motioned me in. “Welcome to Church.”
“Sorry, what?” I stumbled over my own feet and he rumbled another chuckle as he caught me with his giant paw and stood me upright.
“In you go.”
Confused, and I was not going to lie, slightly alarmed, I walked in through the dim entryway. A young woman with bright pink hair sat behind the ticket counter. I stared for a moment; not at her, or her hair, which totally rocked and I wished I could get away with it, but rather at the till that had a black drape over it and instead had a bowl sat in front saying ‘Donations’ followed by about five exclamation marks and then in smaller letters, ‘Don’t be tight a-holes’.
Hmm.
I had zero expectations of what I could be walking into.
The stage lights shone blue, and some guy—lanky and dressed all in black—was breathing, “One two. One two,” into a microphone.
“Lyra!” A little dazed, I turned toward who was calling my name.
Stupid, but for one pathetic moment I thought it might be Jack.
Of course it wasn’t.
Evan gave me a wave from the other side of the bar, like we were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years, and he beckoned me over.
“Welcome to Church.” He grinned and my stomach squeezed, my skin slicking with instant sweat.
“Sorry, I don’t understand.” I mean, I didn’t want to sound stupid, but my brain had literally no way to make sense of this.
I’d been here the day before last... and no one had mentioned church.
Evan’s bright smile caught the lights and he leaned over into my space. “You should see your face.”
“Is it saying various levels of, ‘What the fuck?’”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it’s saying.” He flung a tea towel over his shoulder. He wore the confident bartender look well, very well, in a ‘bet he’s not short on company at the end of a shift’ kind of way. Then he had to ruin it by speaking. “So, Jack wasn’t overly impressed by me giving you a job.”
My tongue tingled with dryness and I wiped sweaty palms along my black skinny jeans. “You know Jack?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not
scared of him.” He winked like we were on the same team, although a team for what I didn’t know.
“Good to know.” I shot him a tight smile. I was scared of Jack and the hateful man he’d become. Good for Evan if he didn’t see the change I now could.
And to think I’d wasted every wish and dream I’d ever had over him. I felt like a giant tool.
A quick glance around the empty bar assured me I didn’t need to worry about Jack there and then.
“So what is this?” I motioned my hand at the bar. The lights were dim, just low blue spotlights on the stage. Evan leaned his arm across the bar and motioned me closer.
“Well, this bar... it attracts a mixed crowd.
I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Failed, but I tried. “You don’t say.”
He smirked. I didn’t know if he knew about my first night out rescue mission... I sure as hell didn’t plan on bringing that up... with anyone... so long as I breathed.
“And... well misfits need a place to just, you know, be.”
I narrowed my gaze, wondering if he might be high.
“Church?” I asked.
“You miss church don’t you, Lyra?” he whispered my name and I pulled back from his intense dark stare. Okay, so how much exactly did this guy know about me, and why? He laughed and clapped his hands together. “Rhian’s right, you are as green as spring grass.”
My face pinched with a scowl. Grams would tell me I’d be stuck like that if the weather changed.
“I’m teasing, Lyra.” Evan knocked my arm with a gentle fist bump. “So, Sunday’s are different here. A place for people to come and not be judged.” He stared at me intently, but then just smirked.
His words flickered a little flame inside me. A place where people could just be... I hadn’t felt that in church for four years. Fuck, I hated Jack being in my head. Hated the fact I still wanted to see him even though I no longer recognized the man he’d become.
Evan read my face with a growing grin. “Not tonight, Lyra. Come on, let me introduce you to the girls.”
I swept my gaze at the bar. “No Rhian tonight?” I’m not going to lie; I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, she’ll stroll in soon.” He didn’t seem overly fussed about time keeping—note to self. “Right, come on.” He threw down his cloth and walked to the end of the bar, waving me over in his direction. We went through the back door, the one I’d gone through on Friday to only realize the staff area consisted of a hall and a dirty loo.
No one could call me snobby, but I fully planned on holding my pee until my shift had finished.
The lights were on, flickering strip lighting, the faint buzzing of an insect trapped, or the electrics about to blow. I didn’t stare at that though.
No.
The three girls in electric blue Gospel gowns had all my attention. My mouth hung open around my knees.
One girl, small and birdlike, had skin of transparent porcelain, a large gust of wind and she’d take to the skies like a kite. The other two absorbed all the light from the poor lighting. “Why do I feel like I’ve just walked onto the set of Sister Act?” I asked.
The taller one, who towered over my five eight frame, laughed. “You’re the new singer?”
I stepped back, holding my hands up. “Ugh no. I collect glasses.”
Evan chuckled. “You said you sang in church.”
“Did sing in church, not do.”
“But this isn’t a church.” He eyed me speculatively.
“Right now, I don’t know what this is. It feels like The Twilight Zone.”
Evan laughed and pointed at me. “Lyra, this is Leah, Rach, and Grace.” He swirled his finger between the three of them. I had no chance of knowing who was who. “This, little dream team of mine, is Lyra.”
The tallest one, who really must have been born some Amazonian giant, swung her ebony braids over her shoulder. The beads on the end clacked like a castanet. “You singing? We’re a member down.” She pointed to a spare blue gown dropped over the top of a tower of bottles wrapped in cling film.
“Uh. No.” I shook my head and stepped back, cornering myself between the wall and a dusty keg of beer.
She smiled. “No worries, you’ll sing.”
“No I won’t.”
Her laugh bounced off the narrow walls. “Sure you will. Now run along and get ready to collect glasses.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I scarpered like a rat running from poison.
Evan chuckled as he followed me out, shaking his head in overplayed dismay. “You really don’t like music, do you, Lyra?”
I bit on my lip, unwilling to commit to an answer either way. I didn’t want to lie, but then again, I didn’t want to state the truth—doing that, I could lose my scholarship in an instant, and then what would Grams say?
Pushing my shoulders, he directed me to the bar. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
Again, I didn’t speak.
“Makes me wonder what you came all the way to the East Coast for though.” He mussed my hair and pulled on one of my curls, reminding me of Luca in a way that made my heart ache hollow inside my chest.
I flicked him a side eye, knowing he read every thought on my face. The answer to that question I’d never truthfully answer.
“It was my Gram’s dream.”
Evan looked thoughtful, his gaze drifting for a moment. “And what about your dream?”
I shrugged.
I no longer knew what that was. Dramatic 101.
“Okay, so you’re on with Rhian again,” Evan said, and my shoulders sagged in response.
“Okay.”
He laughed loudly, showing off his various facets of quirky, beautiful, ruffled hair, natural and wide smile, eyes glinting. If my brain hadn’t been hot wired to Jack Cross, I probably would have attempted a lame hearted, and hideously awkward flirt.
Evan’s grin morphed into a smirk. “I see you checking me out, Lyra Lennox.”
My cheeks burned with inferno prickles of heat. “In your dreams.”
He chuckled low, but then reached for my face and brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, eyes smoldering. And I froze. Statue + Ice = Me.
“Whoa whoa, do we need an R rating?”
I glanced over to Rhian who stood with her hands on her curved hips, eyes narrowed as she analyzed the way Evan touched my face.
Evan pinched my cheek, so Luca. “I think she might be taken.”
I straightened my back, ignoring the flush creeping up my neck. “No. Not taken. At all.” Oh. Well that came out wrong.
Evan just laughed again. So glad to amuse him. Not.
“Yo, Green, you’re behind here with me.” Rhian jerked her head back over her shoulder, chin lifting.
“What?” My eyes widened. “No. I just collect the glasses.” I winced, automatically. “Badly.”
“Now you get to pour drinks badly and keep the customers happy with the sway of that sassy little ass of yours.”
I almost glanced behind me to check she was talking about my ass.
Evan snorted and leaned close to my ear, his long chain with a massive silver cross swinging between us. “Pay rise,” he whispered.
“Oh.” My gut twisted. “Thank you.” I didn’t want to gush, and I could sense the annoying prickle of saltwater droplets lining along my lashes as they prepared to fall and make me look like a dick. A small weight lifted from my chest. Not the weight... no, that had been pushing harder than ever since I arrived in Boston and discovered Jack Cross was a living embodiment of asshole. But a small weight nonetheless.
“Don’t stand there looking all stupid,” Rhian snapped and all my warm and fuzzies evaporated instantly. “I’m assuming you’ve worked a bar before.”
My face must have said it all.
She laughed. “Come on then, Green, let’s crash course the till and how to open unlimited bottles of beer without taking off the top of your thumb.”
Strangely, working the bar was easie
r than picking up the empty glasses. I’d got into a groove—not rushing—just like Rhian instructed.
I popped the lids off three beers and placed them on the slippery bar top. I’d need to wipe that before I got shouted at again. “Here you go, and three tequilas right?” I offered the guy the other side of the bar a smile.
“Sure thing, beautiful.”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. It seemed if people didn’t know your name, and you worked behind a bar, you automatically became ‘beautiful’. Not a bad thing, I guessed.
The man waved a fifty-dollar bill at me and I silently groaned... math.
Yay.
Lucky if you knew how to work the till it did the math for you. But the till, it turned out, was a cantankerous old bitch.
I grabbed the shot glasses from under the bar and lined them up. Turning, I swiped up the tequila and unscrewed the lid, free handing the clear liquid into the glasses. Blue’s bar didn’t do measures. You either got a splash of something, or a bottle of something.
Some people asked for draughts but not many.
The lights went down as I bashed the keys on the till, already trying to work out the change in my head. Who used cash these days... seriously? Get with it.
Evan jumping on the stage momentarily distracted me from my counting. “Welcome to Church,” he murmured into the microphone and the crowd erupted.
For a Sunday, the seams on the joint were almost bursting. The vibe thrummed at a mellow pace though, not the insanity my first shift on Friday had put me through.
“Remember, this is a place for you to just be. No questions, no recriminations. Just you, your thoughts, the music. No judgment.”
After giving the customer his change, I scanned the crowd. At least seventy-five of the audience shifted from one foot to the other. Interesting.
“Let’s begin.” Evan’s voice held a mesmerizing note, and my spine tingled. Too late, especially for someone on a music degree, I noticed the guitar in his hands.
Rhian chuckled and nudged my elbow. “Your face is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
