by Tara Kelly
“She’s in prison.” My chest deflated as soon as the words slipped off my tongue. I’d said it. It was done.
He didn’t say anything for what felt like the longest time. “What did she do?”
My eyes tilted to the clearing sky. “Whatever kept the money coming. My dad never told me much about her—like where she came from. I know she ran away with her boyfriend at fifteen and ended up homeless. I know she was a bartender at this bar my dad and his friends always went to during their residency. She told him she wanted to study fashion design but couldn’t afford it.” My fingers dug into sharp edges of rock. “I once heard my grandma say that Dad knew she had problems but he was smitten. He wanted to give her the world.”
“Did he?”
“Not the one she wanted, I guess. She cleaned out their bank account and then basically disappeared. We didn’t know where she was until this identity theft ring got busted in Vegas five years ago. She was one of the people they arrested.”
“What do you remember about her?”
I closed my eyes, trying to see her face. Dark curls. Red lipstick. Big brown eyes. “She’d smoke on the patio—Camels, I think. She always had music playing—’80s hair metal bands, usually. It was pretty terrible.”
Sean chuckled. “Yikes.”
“She had a soft voice, almost sweet. And she always took me to this one park. It had a weeping willow she loved to sit under—she liked trees. She talked about them as if they were people.”
“You remember a lot.”
“Just insignificant details.”
His fingertips brushed my arm. “They sound pretty significant to me.”
I hugged my knees tighter. “I wish I could forget her.”
“But your dad won’t let you?”
“I deferred my acceptance to Stanford. I’m not ready. He doesn’t get that—he thinks it’s just laziness.”
“You got into Stanford?” He shook his head. “Shit.”
“I kind of snapped during my graduation ceremony. My friend Jason and his boyfriend were whispering together about their trip to Hawaii. Everyone around us was talking about freedom, parties, bad college food. But all I could think about was another four years of this. Feeling like I can’t breathe.” I shook my head. “I think he’s afraid I’ll end up like her.”
“Lying to get in a band won’t prepare you for a life of crime.” He nudged me. “I don’t think.”
“I really love playing with you guys, especially Veta. She’s amazing.”
He rolled his eyes, grinning. “She’s a total attention whore. But, yeah, I guess maybe there’s a little talent in there somewhere.”
I punched his arm. “I wish I knew what to say to her. Hell, I wish I knew what to say to Bryn.”
“Show them you’re worth the trouble.”
“What if I’m not?”
“If you don’t believe it, neither will they. Just like the audience didn’t buy you last night.”
I rested my chin against my arms, watching a large wave ax another surfer. “Last night was a nightmare.”
“You can let it scare you off or take it on. Trust me, it won’t be your only bad show.”
I gave him a sidelong glance. “I told you—I’m not a wuss.”
He leaned toward me, his breath hitting my ear. “Prove it.”
My shoulder curled up. “You really want me to?”
“We won’t find another Jasmine.”
“Since when is that a bad thing for you?”
His lips twitched. “Don’t fish for compliments.”
I shoved him, laughing. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Don’t say that.”
His eyes lifted to mine. “Why?”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“So you keep saying.”
I got up on my knees, planting my hands against his chest. “I’ll push you right off your rock.”
He pressed his shoulders back. “Go for it.”
Just how exactly would I manage this? A surprise attack, maybe.
“I’m not ticklish, so don’t bother,” he said.
My eyes narrowed. “You think you got me all figured out.”
I waited a few seconds before lunging at him. He grabbed my wrists, holding me off. I twisted my hands out of his grip and went for him again, which made him laugh.
Okay, that wasn’t working. So I tackled him, a full-on body slam. I didn’t care if we both landed on our butts—just as long as I proved my point.
He fumbled to grip the rock, his eyes widening. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
I didn’t budge. It was a little awkward—feeling his warmth against me, our faces inches apart. Mostly because I liked it. A lot. “I just hate losing.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. He wrapped one arm around my waist and used his other hand against the rock as leverage to sit upright. Which pretty much left me straddling his lap.
“You still haven’t shut me up,” he said, keeping one arm around me.
That annoying blush crept up my neck again, but I kept my eyes on his. “Um…” I didn’t have anything witty to say. All I could focus on was the yellow around his irises, his dark eyelashes, and the faint scent of his shaving cream and blueberry shampoo.
“There’s that deer-in-headlights look again.” He brushed his fingers through my hair, pushing it over my shoulder.
My heart pounded a little harder. “Find another gum wrapper?”
“Maybe.”
His fingertips followed the contours of my cheek, like he was doing a hesitant sketch, and he leaned into me. My eyes fluttered shut—terrified we’d knock teeth. His lips met mine, but I couldn’t even remember how to move my mouth, much less breathe.
Just as he started to pull away, I wrapped my arms around him and returned the kiss. His fingers slid down the back of my neck, drawing me closer, and I tasted a hint of cinnamon on his tongue. Part of me knew this was a bad idea, but every nerve tickled, not wanting it to stop.
I’d made out with guys before, but it was more because they weren’t completely disgusting and they happened to notice me. Sean was different. And not just because he knew how to kiss—quite well, I might add. He was the first guy I actually wanted to kiss.
Which kind of scared the shit out of me.
Our breaths quickened and my hands slid under his shirt. We’d yet to come up for air, but stopping would be awkward. We might actually have to talk about what we were doing.
“Yow!” a guy called behind us. “Go for it, dude.”
Someone else laughed.
We pulled apart. Moment ruined.
The voices came from two boys—probably around fourteen. They ran off when Sean glared over his shoulder at them.
“Little bastards,” he said.
I looked down, letting my hair fall over my face. “Yeah.”
He tucked a lock behind my ear. “What’s wrong?”
“I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Me neither. I’m sorry if I—”
“No, I wanted to.” I laughed, scrunching up my nose. “I just thought…I thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not. I mean, you’re not like Amy.” This time it was his turn to wince. “That didn’t come out well.”
I climbed off his lap, my limbs shaky. “It’s okay—I get it. She’s all badass and tattooed—and I’m…boring.”
“You know what’s boring? All the scenesters in this town. Everyone trying to out-weird each other. The same faces at every show, every club. The same drama. Amy thrives on that bullshit. I don’t. Never did.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Then why were you with her for so long?”
“Because when it was just me and her, we got each other. She’s really not as hard as she pretends to be.” He glanced over at me. “Kind of like you. She’s got rich parents too.”
“Seriously?”
He laughed. “Yep. Oceanfront house—it’s huge.”
�
��Never would’ve guessed.”
“Yeah, she prefers it that way.” He ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “I’m not the best with words. But I do like you—if that isn’t obvious.”
“Why?” I sucked on my lower lip. It still tingled from our kiss.
He tilted his head back. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“I’m a girl who likes reasons.”
He sighed. “Okay—the way you play guitar, for starters. I’ve never seen anything like it. Your methods, the way you move—none of it makes sense to me, but it works really well. I like how you let yourself get lost in the music when you think no one is looking. You close your eyes and you get this little smile on your face…”
I looked away, not able to hold back a grin. “Shut up.”
“You need to get yourself back in the band.”
“I know,” I said. “I need to pay for my car too.”
He put his hand over mine. “That’s true.”
I exhaled, closing my eyes. “Yeah.”
Chapter 15
I wanted to make damn sure I got to work early the next morning, which meant running the whole way. Veta hadn’t called me or dropped by yesterday, not surprisingly. And Bryn was out all day. Which was a relief. After that kiss with Sean and cleaning my disaster of a room, I wasn’t ready to deal with anyone. And I needed to do this right.
I burst through the door to find Veta on the white couch, reading another guitar magazine.
“You’re early,” she said without glancing up. “Why?”
“I still have a job here, right?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I just figured after everything—that you might fire me.”
She flipped a page. “I know how to separate band issues from work, Jasmine.”
“That’s not…” I shook my head. “Can we start over?”
“I don’t have a time machine, babe.”
I sat in the rocking chair across from her. “How about a reading?”
“You got twenty bucks?”
“If you want me to pay, I’ll pay.”
She tossed the magazine on the coffee table and folded her arms. “Why do you suddenly want a reading?”
“I thought maybe…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I know those are just words, but I really am.”
She exhaled, her face softening. “Look, Jasmine, I get why you did what you did. Why you might not have been comfortable fessing up to the guys, especially Bryn. But you waited until the last minute to tell me. And that was only because you were freaking out.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially you.”
“Well, you disappointed me and pissed me off. Congratulations.”
I swallowed, looking down at my hands. “I wanted to tell you—almost did a couple of times.”
“But you didn’t, and that’s my point. I respect that you’re guarded and all that, but this was something that affected all of us.”
“I know.” I met her gaze. “I don’t like asking for help.”
“Why?”
“If a class was hard, my dad always said, ‘Figure it out on your own. You won’t have a tutor to walk you through life; why start now?’”
Veta crinkled her nose. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know, but that’s how I feel too. It’s bad to need anything I can’t give myself. Because I don’t want to end up like…”
She looked at me expectantly.
My body tensed. If I could tell Sean, I could tell her—she was my friend too. I owed her that much. “My mom.”
“She’s the superdependent type, huh?”
“You could say that.” I told Veta briefly how my mom left and where she ended up. “It’s not something I want the world to know. I wish I didn’t know. Because, that’s my mom. No matter what I do, I’ll always be part of her.”
“You’re not her, though. You’re you. If anything, I’d say you have a lot more of your dad in you.”
I shook my head. “We’re nothing alike—that’s why he kicked me out.”
Her sandal tapped against the hardwood floor. “So the fact that you’re telling me all this—does that mean you trust me?”
I nodded. “I think you’re a good person. You’re true to the people you care about.”
She relaxed against the couch, sighing. “I don’t exactly have a halo over my head, believe me. I make a shitty girlfriend. And I have a mouth—I’ve said a lot of mean things.”
“I can’t see you being shitty to anyone…unless you’re protecting someone.” I grinned, thinking about the sludge she poured on Amy’s head.
“Remember that ex I mentioned—Sophie?” she asked.
“You said she moved to New York, I think.”
“She got into NYU—film school. I was supposed to go with her.” Her eyes lifted to the ceiling. “But my life is here. NYU and all that was her dream, not mine. I didn’t have the guts to tell her—hey, I don’t love you enough to give up my dreams.”
“She shouldn’t have expected you to.”
“Well…” Veta looked down, picking at her nails. “I told her I cheated on her.”
“Why?”
“It was the one thing I knew would make her glad to go to New York without me. I didn’t want her to have regrets. Because if I told her the truth, I was afraid she’d decide to stay and resent me for it.” Her forehead crinkled, like she was trying to hold something back. “I suck at love.”
“We all suck at something.”
She shrugged. “So you see? I’m no saint.”
“Who is?”
She studied me for a few moments. “Why haven’t you had a boyfriend?”
“Ask guys.”
Her eyebrows rose. “It’s all them, huh? Not your back-the-fuck-off’tude?”
“Well, apparently I’m good enough to make out with. That’s about it.”
“Or maybe that’s all you want.”
“I didn’t really like them much…” Not like Sean. I broke eye contact, focusing on the magazines.
“Speaking of guys…Did you really sleep with my brother?”
My mouth dropped open. “What? No. I mean, yes.” I held my hand up. “But—”
“I know. Felix told me what happened at the party. And Sean knows better. Even if he thinks you’re cute.”
“He said that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I know my brother. His biggest crushes have always been musician chicks.”
“Oh, right—Amy.”
“Don’t forget Dolores O’Riordan—singer of the Cranberries.”
“Really?”
“Oh my God. He was, like, smitten when he was little. He had every album and a gajillion posters.”
“Interesting. I thought he’d be more into dark, gothy singers.”
“He had this obsession with everything Irish. I think it made him feel closer to our dad somehow.”
Heels clacked down the stairs. “What are you doing, ladies? It’s after nine—chop, chop.” Tina clapped her hands.
I bolted up. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”
Tina grinned. “I’ll let it slide this once.” She walked back to the supply closet.
“Hey,” Veta said. “We’re having a band meeting tonight.”
“Yeah?”
She grinned. “In case you wanted to show up and fight for your cause.”
“Thanks—I’ll be there.” I headed for the supply closet—probably the first time I’d ever looked forward to cleaning. Just the thought of confronting Bryn again filled me with dread.
I was behind the counter by myself when Amy showed up. She looked like a gothic G.I. Jane in a wifebeater and cargo pants cut off at the knees.
“Need something?” I asked, keeping my tone cool. Why bother with politeness?
She rested her elbows on the counter, her lips curving up in a half smile. “Veta here?”
“She’s doing a reading right now—should be done in a few.
”
Her expression didn’t change. “Heard you’re out of the band.”
I really wanted to wipe off that smug look. Or maybe just punch her. “You heard wrong.”
She squinted. “Hmm, that’s funny. Bryn just put the word out that they’re looking for a new guitarist.”
“Yeah, well, Bryn isn’t the whole band.”
“We talking about the same Bryn? ’Cause he seems to think he is.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t like I could argue with that. “It’s probably more comfortable to wait on the couch.”
“More comfortable for who—you or me?”
“Both. You obviously have a problem with me—for reasons I can’t figure out. And I think you’re a bitch.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. But, for once, I was kind of glad.
“Ooh, feisty.” Her lips stretched into a wide grin. “With nothing to show for it.”
“I had a bad night—so what? It was my first show.”
Amy gave me another one of her quick scans, like she was assessing me for defects. “I bet you’re one of those girls who carried around a skateboard just to snag skater guys. The kind with the shiny, unused wheels.” She folded her arms. “Me and Veta used to pound fakers like you.”
“I’ve never touched a skateboard. And if you’re implying I play guitar to impress guys, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You’re just another chick who can’t play her instrument but thinks batting her eyelashes is gonna make up for it. It’s a shame, too. You’ve got some nice gear.”
I bit my tongue, wishing I could jump over the counter and drag Amy outside by her overdyed hair. Those were funny words coming from someone who couldn’t actually sing. Who was passable at bass—but not great. And what was left? A bitter girl with a lot of holes in her face. The largest one being her mouth, of course.
“Get out,” I said finally. Kicking out the losers was part of my job description. And I wasn’t going to let this girl intimidate me anymore.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I am. Get out.”
“Or what?” She laughed. “You’ll call the cops?”
I moved out from behind the counter. “That would take too long.”
