by Elle Thorpe
My heart rate picked up at the thought of going out with him. If I said yes, it wouldn’t be solely because I was playing sleuth. There was something more between us. I’d noticed it from the very first moment we’d met. It might have only been attraction, but it was a powerful one.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I think I’d like that.”
Jagger’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go tell him.”
“Whoa, no. In the middle of the lunchroom?”
“Hell yes, before one of these skanks tries to get their grimy claws into your man.”
I jostled my tray into one arm so I could pick up a drink, passing a bottle of water back to Jagger. “Bit soon to call him my man.”
She shook her head like I was completely hopeless and annoying, took her water, and marched across the lunchroom. I followed after her, cringing a little when I realized she was making a beeline for Banjo. I caught him watching me and bit my lip, holding in a smile.
Jagger stopped in front of him, dumping her tray on the table. She grabbed my arm, propelling me forward until Banjo and I were face-to-face.
“Uh, hi,” I said, awkward as fuck.
“Hi to you, too.” His green eyes sparkled with a mischief that I found incredibly appealing.
I could only imagine where he’d take me on a date. It wouldn’t be dinner and a movie. No way. He’d be a bonfire on the beach. Or he’d try to teach me to skateboard, which would probably be a disaster, since I was one of the girls at Providence who was wholly uncoordinated thanks to the lack of gym class, and was probably better off sticking to yoga.
Jagger cleared her throat and shot a look at me. I ignored her.
“About what you said yesterday—”
I got cut off by a scraping noise that was as painful to listen to as fingernails down a chalkboard. It was so loud, the entire room stopped their conversation and watched while Colt spun the chair next to Banjo. It clattered back onto all four legs, and he straddled it backward, folding his arms on top of the backrest. Colt’s eyes narrowed on me. He was pissed. And it seemed to be my fault, judging from the way his anger practically radiated like laser beams.
All thoughts of turning over a new leaf with him flew out of my head. I glared, not expecting he’d back down but sure as hell not willing to be the first to turn away either.
“Uh, Lacey?”
I jolted out of my Colt stare off and focused back on Banjo. Back where my gaze should have been all along. Colt wasn’t worth the effort.
“I’d love to go out with you,” I said to Banjo, firmly.
Banjo’s smiled faltered. He shot Colt a look, and shook his head slightly, but whatever Banjo was trying to convey didn’t get across.
Colt was too busy laughing his ass off. “Oh, this is rich. Yesterday, you were too good for us. Today you want to date him?”
Ugh, I wanted to punch this guy. “I said I was too good for you, jackass. Not him.” More words I’d probably feel bad about later, but something about Colt brought out the worst in me. And in that moment, I didn’t care.
I turned back to Banjo, but my stomach sank at the expression on his face.
He stood and pulled me aside, a few steps. His hand was warm on my arm, sending a pleasant tingling feeling across my skin. “Listen, something’s happened…I’m really sorry…”
I almost felt sorry for him. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment, and he looked genuinely apologetic.
“Dumped on your second day of school,” Colt said, loud enough for all the kids at the tables around us to titter.
“Colt, shut up, man” Banjo complained. He turned back to me. “Lacey…”
I was trying my best to keep my emotions in check, but that was being made more difficult by his expression. True disappointment burned behind my eyes. But then it turned into anger as a thought popped into my head.
“Was asking me out yesterday just some sort of prank between the two of you?”
“Yep,” Colt said.
“No!” Banjo said at the same time. “Seriously, Colt, fuck off. I’m doing what you want, don’t make it worse.”
A tiny part of me wanted to know what he meant by that, but a much bigger part wanted to save face. Which meant getting out of Colt’s firing range. “Come on,” I said to Jagger. “I’m over this.”
“Damn straight.” She smacked Banjo on the back of the head as we walked past.
“Hey!” he complained, rubbing the spot where Jagger’s palm had made contact with his skull.
“You deserved that. And you,” she rounded on Colt. “You’re a dick.”
He didn’t comment.
Jagger and I walked out of the cafeteria with our heads held high, even though I was dying on the inside.
9
Lacey
Jagger and I took our lunches outside in the sunshine of the quad and found a rickety-looking bench away from other people. We both picked at our crappy, sloppy food, then simultaneously dumped it in a nearby trashcan.
“I’m really sorry about before,” Jagger said, settling back on the seat with her bottle of water. “I feel like I pushed you into that and it blew up royally in your face. I don’t know what their problem is today.”
“They’re jerks?” I asked. I took a long swallow of my drink to push down the lump that had been stuck in my throat. I gave myself a mental scolding over how ridiculous it was to be upset about what had just happened. Colt was a dick. That was fine. But Banjo…I didn’t understand what had happened there.
“Thing is, they’re not normally. They’re super popular.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
Jagger sighed. “I’m struggling to remember myself right now. Maybe something happened over the summer.”
I snapped my head in her direction. “Do you think?” Something like murdering a man in cold blood and setting a building on fire, perhaps? Not that I could say that to Jagger. She’d think I was crazy.
Jagger kicked at the patch of grass beneath our feet. “Who knows? Maybe Gillian just isn’t putting out, and Banjo’s surf this morning was ruined by flat waves. It’s not worth worrying about.” She clapped her hands together and I jumped at the sudden noise. “There’s a party this weekend. You’re coming.”
“I haven’t been invited to any parties…”
Jagger patted my head while she laughed. “Oh, sweet Lacey. Were you expecting a written invitation hand delivered in a glossy envelope by a servant with a silver tray?”
I shrugged. “Maybe not the silver tray, but…”
“Oh Lord, you rich kids are something else. You’re gonna sit at home every weekend if you’re waiting to be officially invited to parties. Around here, if you hear about a party, you can go.”
“Okay, so where’s the party?”
“One of the guys on the football team has a house to himself this weekend. His mom is away for work or something. I don’t know. But all the team will be there. Perfect place for you to find yourself a new man to shove in Banjo’s face.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need to shove anything in his face.”
“Pft. You may not need to. But it will be fun. And you said you liked jocks. It will be jock city at this party. Come on, please? Entertain me. And meet some people. Make some friends. It’ll be good for you.”
I wasn’t exactly sure about that. But I did need to get closer to the football team. And if that wasn’t going to be through Banjo, then I had to find another way. “Okay, sure. I’ll go. On one condition.”
Jagger bounced on her seat with excitement. “Yes! Anything, name it.”
“You take me shopping. Because I have no idea about the dress code for a Saint View High party.”
Jagger’s eyes lit up. “You’re talking my love language, sister. Done deal.”
I left Jagger a few minutes before the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. She’d stared at me like I’d grown a second head when I’d told her I wanted to get to class early, but I’d been looking forward to this class all day.
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My music elective was in a building so far to the edge of the school, it was as if the sounds of teenagers practicing instruments were offensive and needed to be well out of hearing distance from anyone else.
The teacher, a young blonde woman, glanced up as I entered the room.
I lifted my hand in a half wave. “Hi, sorry. I know the bell hasn’t gone yet, but I’m Lacey.”
The woman stood from her desk and crossed the room, long skirt swishing around her ankles. It was an explosion of color, and she’d matched it with a plain white tank top, which calmed the crazy skirt a little. Big hoops hung from her ears, giving her a bit of a boho vibe. She held her hand out for me to shake, and I took it with a smile, instantly liking her vibe. Or perhaps it was just that any room where music was played left me at ease.
“Lacey. Lovely to meet you. I’m Miss Halten. Principal Simmons tells me you’re quite the musical prodigy.”
I shook my head. “That might be a bit of a stretch. But I do love it. It’s my whole life.”
She gave my hand a little squeeze. “Good for you. Enthusiasm is more important than some preconceived notion of a God-given talent anyway. You can learn almost anything if you’re willing to practice.”
“I agree.”
“Good. Then we’ll get along just fine. Grab a seat anywhere. The bell is about to go.”
I dropped my backpack where I stood and slid into a seat in the front row. I couldn’t have cared less about impressing teachers in my other classes, but music was special. And I hoped Miss Halten might actually be able to help me improve. Hell, may as well make the most of my time here. I didn’t want to waste my entire senior year.
The bell rang, and Miss Halten went back to her desk, picking up a pen and scribbling something on a sheet of paper. I stared off into space, glad to have a few minutes alone while everyone wandered over from the cafeteria. I was still riled up by what had happened with Colt and Banjo, but the best way for me to get over anything I was angry or upset about was to play. And I was itching to get my fingers on the acoustic guitar standing to the side of Miss Halten’s desk.
“Oh, the princess is in our class. Great. Should we bow? Curtsey? I’m not sure of the protocol.”
I didn’t even have to lift my head to recognize Gillian’s voice, sharp and vicious. I looked over in her direction, deliberately slowly, as if I were bored with her statement. “That’s because you have no class, sweetie.” The words dripped with fake sugar and sarcasm. I’d never used the term sweetie in my life. But Gillian irked me. She’d taken an instant dislike, with absolutely no reason behind it, and I wasn’t about to take her shit lying down.
She folded her arms beneath her breasts, which only thrust them higher than the push-up bra peeking from the low cut of her top. If she wasn’t careful, one of them would pop right out and give the class a hell of a show, but I somehow got the impression that wouldn’t have bothered her in the least.
Gillian’s overflowing D cup didn’t hold my attention long, though. Colt’s infuriating smirk drew my gaze like a magnet. I hated that I found it so sexy. His lips were full, and when they turned up the way they were now, they were hard not to stare at. I wanted to reach out and trace the curve of his mouth.
Preferably with my tongue.
Watching him like this wasn’t comfortable. It was as if I’d been stripped naked and exposed. Like he could read all my thoughts. But I couldn’t drag my eyes away either.
Until Gillian stepped between us. She spun around to face him, lifted up on her toes, and put her mouth to his ear. His smirk turned into a grin, and he put his arm around her as they headed for the back row of seats.
I tensed when his big body moved past mine. His free hand trailed over my desk, on a collision course with the bare skin of my arm. I jolted out of the way before he could make contact.
He tilted his head in amusement. “Keep digging your hole, princess. You starting a war with Gillian, just means she runs you out of school before I do.”
Something inside me snapped. I shot my hand out and grabbed his arm.
Shit. Bad move.
Sparks shot up my arm as if I’d been electrocuted.
Colt stopped and looked down at my hand in surprise, which quickly morphed to amusement.
That only pissed me off more. “What exactly is your problem with me?”
His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “If you don’t know, it’s not worth explaining.”
He shook my hand off and took his seat at the back of the room. Gillian gave me a smile that could rival a shark’s.
If you don’t know, it’s not worth explaining.
What the hell did that mean?
I twisted back in my seat only to find Banjo entering the room. I slunk down. While I was perfectly happy to go head-to-head with Colt, Banjo was different. Heat flushed my cheeks when his gaze landed on me. He hurried to my desk, and I shot a glance at the teacher, hoping she’d save me from the embarrassment of having to talk to him again. But alas, she still had her nose buried in whatever paper she was marking.
“Banjo.”
Banjo ignored Colt’s command. His mouth pressed into a straight line. “Can we talk?” he asked me.
“Banjo!” Colt said again.
“You’d better go. Your king is calling.”
“He’s not my king,” Banjo muttered.
“Could have fooled me,” I said quietly. There was no malice in my voice this time, though.
Banjo’s shoulders slumped, and he took his seat right as Miss Halten stood and introduced herself to the class.
The teacher’s voice became a drone while I tried to ignore the sensation that someone was staring at my back. I had no idea which of the three it was. But I hoped it was Banjo. I hadn’t quite given up on him yet, even though he’d wounded my pride.
Colt and Gillian could both go to hell.
“So, this is senior year,” Miss Halten said, finally capturing my attention. “Right off the bat, I’m setting your first assignment. There’ll be a concert at the end of semester. Time will be limited, as the other performing arts classes will also be involved. Therefore, this semester’s assignment is to work in pairs. I want you to find a song that suits both partners’ strengths, because you’ll be marked together. So don’t go hogging the limelight for yourself. If you don’t share the weight, you both fail.”
It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn Miss Halten turned in Gillian’s direction when she said that. It didn’t surprise me. It was already obvious to me that Gillian liked being the center of attention. She was probably back there fuming over not getting to do a solo. The class buzzed with excited chatter, and Miss Halten held up one hand in a stop motion until everyone quieted.
“Additionally, I’ll be choosing one person to do a solo.”
“How will that person be chosen?” Gillian called out. “Will there be auditions?”
Well, that confirmed it. Gillian’s eagerness could have been heard by a deaf person.
“No. The spot will be given to the student who has the highest marks the week before the concert. So I suggest you all practice a piece and have it ready to go in case you’re chosen. Any other questions?”
I raised my hand tentatively. “Are partners assigned?”
“Why? Worried no one will pick you, princess?” Gillian said snidely.
Miss Halten shot her a dirty look, then turned back to me. “Since you’re new, Lacey, you can pick your partner first. Stand up, face the class.”
I did as I was told and studied the classroom of about thirty kids. I didn’t know any of their names bar the three in the back row. My gaze landed on Gillian who appeared to be trying to burn me on the spot with the fire in her eyes. I switched to Colt, who wasn’t paying attention, too busy chatting quietly with Banjo. When I looked back at Gillian, she was ready to explode.
Oh, wouldn’t that be fun. To pick her boyfriend. It was on the tip of my tongue to say his name, just to spite her, but t
hen the thought of having to actually put up with Colt for the next few months made me reconsider. I tried to think fast, because I was well aware that an entire classroom was waiting on me to make a decision. I needed to be smart about this. This was a chance to get one-on-one time with someone. Perhaps gain their trust. I needed to choose someone from the football team. My gaze flitted around the room, but none of the faces were even remotely familiar.
“Miss Halten, if she can’t make a decision, I’d be happy to go first,” Gillian said.
“I choose Banjo.”
Banjo and Colt both snapped their heads forward. Colt narrowed his eyes.
Miss Halten clapped her hands together. “Excellent! Our first matchup. You two move your desks together, and once everyone has chosen a partner, you can start discussing your potential song choices.”
Banjo stood slowly and picked his way to the front of the room, taking the empty desk beside mine then pulling it over so close they touched. “What are you doing?” he murmured as we both sat. “You’re making this worse for yourself. Colt is going to go after you harder, just for picking me.”
“I picked a music partner. That’s it. If you don’t want to work with me, then you’d best take it up with Miss Halten.”
He shot me a sidelong glance. “I want to work with you, Lacey.” His voice dropped so only I would hear it. “I want to do a lot of things with you.”
My breath stuttered in my lungs. “What?” I whispered. Though there was no denying the sexual undercurrent of his words. It was the same one that had been there that night after my uncle’s funeral, when I’d very nearly fallen into bed with him. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to go out with me. Make up your mind, Banjo. I don’t play games.”
He sighed. “I’m not playing anything. But it’s complicated.”
“I don’t do complicated either.” Then I forced out words I didn’t really mean. “So just forget it. I only chose you because I didn’t know anyone else’s name. Can we just talk about what song we want to do?”
Banjo appeared wounded by that, and I tried to keep myself from apologizing. He deserved a little of his own medicine, even if I did feel bad.
