by R. M. Lynn
With one more smile sent my way, she looks over her shoulder at me, and then heads to her apartment, bypassing the staircase. I wait until she’s inside her apartment before I head back into my own. As soon as I shut the door, the jests and cackles from the guys sound behind me. I roll my eyes to myself before turning around to face them.
“Knock it off,” I snap, going to my guitar.
“That’s two days in a row, man,” Dylan enlightens me.
Noah’s next with, “She’s super fucking cute.”
“Yeah,” Ayden adds and shoves Oliver’s shoulder. “You should’ve seen his face earlier when he saw her in our lecture today. Fucking googly eyes, man.”
“Fuck off, guys,” I shoot back as I head to my room.
“Oh, c’mon, man, don’t pout,” Noah calls after me as I open the bedroom door. “We’re just giving you shit!”
With that, I slam the door shut and sprawl onto my bed. I dig into the nightstand for my notebook and pen. Guitar in my lap, I open up the frayed notebook with pages full of lyrics, songs, and melodies. They could hassle me all they wanted. I was still going to write a song about her eyes. When inspiration hits, right?
◆◆◆
I don’t see Alivia at all on Tuesday. I’m mildly disappointed. However, on Wednesday, I wake up knowing I’m going to be seeing her in less than an hour for Professor Fields’s class. Really, I just want to see her reaction about finding out we’re in a group together. Well, actually, she’s in our group. Turns out, Ayden knows the professor’s son from high school, so he definitely has an in with her. It can probably seriously get her into trouble, but Ayden apparently swayed her into putting Noah, Dylan, Ayden, and I into a group. It was just pure luck that Alivia was tossed in with us. The guys and I have been working together for years, so this project was going to be one of the easiest ones I’ve had. Or at least, I hoped so. I wouldn’t doubt it if Professor Fields judged us harder because of Ayden.
I don’t see her leaving the apartment with Noah and Dylan either. I tell myself to chill the fuck out. She’s just a girl. My neighbor, for god’s sake. She’s no reason to act like a fucking fourteen-year-old kid.
She does look fucking cute in those glasses, though.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when we pull up in front of Ayden and Oliver’s apartment. Oliver’s shitty car is parked out front, and Ayden is leaned up against it waiting for us. I get of the car and slide the seat forward so he can hop in back with Dylan. When I sit back into my seat and shut the car door, Ayden’s tattooed hand comes up and ruffles my hair.
Swatting him away, I snap, “Will you fucking chill out?”
“Ooh, testy today, aren’t we?” Ayden teases. “Are you stressed about seeing your crush this morning?”
“I’m not a thirteen-year-old girl, Ayden. I don’t get crushes.”
“You definitely seem at least infatuated a bit,” Noah adds to the conversation unnecessarily.
I cock my head at him and retort, “Look at you, brother, getting all sophisticated with big words. Do you even know what infatuated means?”
He scowls as he mutters a curse at me and looks back to the road. Noah and I have been in each other’s’ lives since we were in junior high. It’s where we met Dylan, actually. Noah’s dad married my mother, promising to get her and her son, me, out of Detroit and into a safer, quieter, family friendly suburbia where Mom wouldn’t have to work her ass off at three jobs, barely making enough to make ends meet. I showed Noah the gift of music and when we met Dylan, we were fast friends. We started a band that practiced every Wednesday after school in our garage. When we got to college, we met Oliver and Ayden in the dorms. When it was revealed that Oliver plays bass and Ayden plays the drums, we immediately put together a new band. All in all, we were close, the lot of us. Noah and I, though, are fucking brothers. It doesn’t matter to either of us that we aren’t blood.
“Guys, she’s pretty, okay? And maybe I like her vibe,” I offer to the guys and run my hand through my hair.
“Her vibe?” Dylan laughs. “You’re a fucking dweeb.”
“You’re a dweeb for using the word dweeb,” Ayden tells him in return. “Also, Ky, she’s more than fucking pretty. She’s smoking.”
Part of me agrees fully and the other part of me wants to knock his fucking teeth out for talking about her in that way. I can’t help but feel somewhat possessive over her, even though she’s definitely not mine. I heft out a sigh and clamp my mouth shut for the rest of the ride into campus. The other three chat the entire time. We finally park, which is always a bitch to accomplish, and make our way to Carson Hall.
When we head into the lecture hall, the first thing I notice is the projector screen with words written across it telling the students in the room to find their groups. Professor Fields is at the front reminding us all to open our mouths, speak, and make friends. The next thing I spot is Alivia at the other side of the hall looking around, seemingly trying to look as casual as she can while doing so. I bite back a smile and gesture with a nod of my head to the guys to head over there. We file through the rows of chairs and people, and I notice Alivia’s eyes spark with recognition when they land on me.
“Hey, guys,” she says when we approach. “Can you believe we’re in a group together?”
I hear the guys snicker behind me as I sit down next to her and say, “Dumb luck, huh?”
She bites her lower lip and goes into her backpack to fish her laptop out. I take the time to look her over. She’s not wearing her glasses, and her hair is in loose curls down her back and shoulders, similar to how she wore it the night we met. Light makeup also adorns her face. Today, she’s not wearing a t-shirt with a music group’s name on them. She’s wearing some sort of blouse with flowers on it. Her light jeans don’t have the usual rips in them either.
“You look pretty.”
The words shock us both. She looks me over, and although I shouldn’t have said the words, I don’t regret them. She must be able to see this in my expression because she gives me quiet thanks and a shy smile. A minute later and lecture begins. Alivia types away on her laptop while I occasionally scribble notes down in a notebook I use for the majority of my classes. I’d like to think my mind is like a sponge, and I’m too smart for notetaking, but more than likely it’s attributed to carelessness.
With twenty minutes left of class, Professor Fields gives us time to consult with our groups about a plan of action for the project. Alivia and I turn in our seats to look up at Dylan, Ayden, and Noah in the row behind us. Noah has his notebook ready, always the more studious one of the group.
“So, how are we going to do this?” he asks before anyone else can speak first.
Ayden replies, “Well, we basically have the band right here.”
Dylan scoffs and states, “Without Oli, we don’t have a bassist. Unless our girl over here knows how to play?”
Alivia stares at him for a moment before glancing between us all. “Did you say band?”
Noah nods. “Yeah, we’re in a band,” he explains. “All four of us plus our friend, Oliver. You may remember him from the other day when you were at the apartment?”
“Like a boy band?” she asks in response.
All of us startle back simultaneously. Dylan gasps theatrically and puts his hand over his heart. Noah and Ayden look like they can’t believe the words were even spoken out loud.
“Did you just compare us to a boy band?” I question her.
“How dare you,” Dylan adds melodramatically.
Alivia bursts into a fit of giggles before saying, “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit confused. So, you’re in a band, band. Not a boy band? Are you sure?”
“Pretty fucking sure, sweetheart,” Ayden responds with a chuckle.
“We actually play instruments,” Noah informs her.
“Yeah, and Noah fucking creates literal beats,” Dylan adds. “Kyler writes the lyrics.”
“Dylan and Kyler sing lead and play guitar, switching off de
pending on the beats, and I’m obviously just here to be the face of the group,” Ayden laughs out.
“What about Oliver?” Alivia wants to know, a smile forming on her lips.
“We needed a bassist,” I share with a shrug, and the guys laugh at my jest.
“Alright, the poor guy isn’t here to defend himself,” Noah interrupts as we all simmer down. “Let’s focus. We have less than fifteen minutes to figure out a game plan.”
“Okay, well if you’re all as good as you claim,” Alivia contributes, “maybe we can create a mini band without Oliver for the sake of the project.”
“Whoa, whoa, we don’t just add members to the band. What’re your talents?” Dylan demands to know, and I roll my eyes.
Alivia shrugs. “I can write songs. Um, I play piano. I’ve been doing that since elementary school.”
“Do you sing?” I ask next.
Her eyes meet mine as she responds with, “I guess.”
The guys scowl while Ayden asks incredulously, “What does that mean? You guess?”
Another shrug and then, “I mean, I can. I sing, but I struggle with stage fright.”
“Stage fright?” Noah repeats. “You’re going into a career involving music, and you have stage fright?”
Before she responds, I notice the pink rising in her cheeks, and I step in for her. “Guys, lay off, alright? We’ll figure out the logistics later. Let’s just focus on when we can meet up and shit. Liv, when’re you free?”
She runs a hand back through her hair and takes a breath before saying, “Is Sunday okay for you guys?”
No, Sundays aren’t good for us. We have gigs on Friday and Saturday nights. We usually end up getting trashed afterwards, leaving Sundays as our days to recover. However, before any of the guys can share this with her, I say it works fine. I can feel them staring daggers at me as I watch Alivia pull her phone out, her mouth moving and talking about creating a group chat. She hands her phone to Noah first so he can put his information in.
“So, um, I can text you guys Sunday morning or something about possibly meeting up. We can maybe do it at the library?” She looks my way and mumbles, “Or maybe we can just meet at your place? We’re all right there, right?”
I give a nod, knowing Ayden and Oliver usually crash at our place Saturday nights anyway.
“Whatever works,” I assure her.
Her phone gets passed to me by Dylan, and I create a contact for myself before taking the liberty of creating the group chat for her. I hand her the phone, our fingers brushing, and she gives me a smile.
“Okay, so we can maybe work out what song we want to do and discuss composition or something,” Alivia says to the group. “Does that sound okay for now?”
We all agree just before Professor Fields announces that class is dismissed. The guys file out, but I hang back while Alivia packs her things up.
“You don’t have to wait, you know,” she tells me.
“It’s fine, we’re going to the same place, right?” I reply as she stands straight. We’re heading out of the building when I finally speak again. “So, I didn’t know you sing.”
She blushes and waves a hand at me. “Yeah, but I don’t really like an audience, so it kind of defeats the purpose.”
“Maybe I can help with that,” I tell her. “We do this thing every-”
I’m interrupted when that douchebag Scott calls Alivia’s name from across the courtyard before jogging over to us. Once again, he looks me over the same way he did when we had our first encounter. I raise an eyebrow at him, which in turn causes him to look back at Alivia. I notice immediately when he takes her hand in his.
“Hey, Liv,” he says softly. “Are we still on for dinner?”
Now I know the fucker came over here just to mark his territory like a dog taking a piss on a fire hydrant. My jaw clenches, and I don’t miss the smirk on his face as his eyes flash from me back to her in an instant.
Alivia shifts uncomfortably and mutters, “Yeah, Scott, we’re still on. I texted you less than an hour ago to confirm.”
“Right, yeah,” he stammers out. “I know. I just wanted to make sure in person. I’ll pick you up at seven, right?”
She gives him a nod. He leans in and captures her lips with his. The kiss is brief, but even so, my jaw nearly breaks, it’s clenched so hard. Fuck this guy and his douchebaggery.
“I’ll see you later, Liv,” he says softly before walking off back to his friends.
“Sorry about that,” Alivia mumbles as we continue walking toward Montgomery.
“So, you’re working shit out then, I gather?”
“Don’t judge me, okay? We talked a lot yesterday, and I owe it to myself to try.”
I’m judging. I can’t help myself. I wouldn’t judge her, but their relationship? Yeah, I’m definitely judging. I keep my thoughts to myself, though, and open the door for her wordlessly.
“So, what were you saying?” she asks softly, her eyes searching mine.
I shrug and run a hand through my hair. “Nothing. I don’t even remember.” Liar. “I’ll see you later?”
She nods. “Okay, yeah.”
We part ways, and I shake my head as I near my next class. This Scott fucker is going to be a real pain in my ass. I just know it.
◆◆◆
Chapter Four
Alivia
I hadn’t seen Kyler the rest of the week. Well, that’s not entirely true. I saw him Thursday on campus. He was with Oliver and two other girls, both blonde, who used every excuse in the book to put their hands on him. They’d touch his biceps, his chest, his abs, and they’d even run their fingers through the hair at the back of his head. I had ducked out of sight when I saw them, simply trying to avoid an awkward situation. After that, I hadn’t seen him.
Friday after class, I head to my apartment. I find Mackenzie in the living room talking on the phone to someone. I give her a wave, she waves back, and I head into my bedroom to drop my things off. Pulling my laptop out of my bag, I sit back into my bed to get a leg up on homework for next week. I’m interrupted a few minutes later when Mackenzie bursts into the room.
“Girl, you better not be doing homework right now,” she scolds.
I shut my laptop closed before she can see that’s exactly what I’m doing. “What’s up, Mack?” I ask innocently.
She glares at me briefly before a smile plasters across her face, and she exclaims, “We’re going out tonight! Alice was just on the phone with me, and she’s currently taking a break from Troy, so now’s the time to get her out there.”
Alice is a newer friend of ours that we met last year in a general education class. This would be the first time we’d see her since summer break separated us. I smile up at her and run a hand through my hair.
“I don’t know, Mack,” I sigh out. “I’m still having regrets from the last time we went out.”
She rolls her eyes and waves a hand at me. “C’mon, Livy, this will be fun, I promise. No house parties, I swear. Alice wants to check out this bar. She says they have a live band on the weekends, with two dollar wells. Two dollars, Liv! She said when the band finishes a DJ comes in and everything.”
I giggle out, “Oh my God, Mack. Fine. I will once again give into your nonsense. Okay? Happy?”
She squeals, does a little dance, cups my face in her hands and smacks a loud kiss onto my forehead. I shove her away with a laugh.
“You won’t regret this, I promise,” she swears to me. “It’ll be so much fun. I’m going to go call Alice and let her know the good news.”
“Okay, crazy,” I reply with another laugh before she heads out of my room.
I pull myself out of bed and glance at my phone, noting the time is about four-thirty. I decide to work on my homework for another hour or so, then I’ll shower, do my hair and makeup, and I’ll be ready to go. What could go wrong?
◆◆◆
I’m sitting at a high-top table at Taps with Alice a few hours later as Mackenzie stands at th
e bar ordering us a round of drinks. As Alice rants to me about her latest break up with her on again off again boyfriend Troy, I take a look around the bar. Taps is newer, sleek with grays and blacks. The whole ambiance makes me feel like I’m in an old black and white movie. The tables are round, black painted wood with metal chairs. The dance floor is at the center left, a dark wood, directly across from the expansive bar. Low hanging bulbs, lit dimly, are strategically placed above the bar top and across the rest of the vicinity. Black and white photos of various locations, people, and random objects adorn the walls. There’s a stage behind the dance floor, but at the moment, it stands bare. There are pool tables at the far end of the place, two of them, near the bathrooms.
By the time Mackenzie comes back to our table, the surrounding space around us begins to fill up with bodies. Tables are claimed by other groups, people begin to gather around the pool tables, and eventually every space at the bar is taken up by a body. Mackenzie and Alice begin chatting, and as I take a sip of my mixed drink, I take note of movement coming through the back door near the pool tables. Immediately, I recognize Noah and Oliver. They heft some music equipment through the door before carrying it onto the stage. A drum set is set up by Oliver while Noah moves speakers around. They exit the stage, heading back out of the door just as Dylan walks in with two electric guitars; one is black while the other is a fire engine red. He sets them each on their own individual stands before crouching down and plugging them into the speakers.
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I knock back the rest of my drink. I should’ve known I’d run into them again. I don’t even have to look to know that Kyler has entered the building. It’s like I can already feel him. Even over the crowd, I can hear him laughing at something Dylan must have said to him as he steps up onto the stage with microphones and stands. My eyes drink him, taking in his barely styled hair, his white t-shirt and black jeans. He’s wearing the black boots, and I briefly wonder if he owns any other type of footwear. His muscles strain against his shirt as he bends and moves around the stage in order to help set up the rest of the equipment.
