“Hey Jack,” he called down the stairs. “You coming up or what?”
I shoved the notes back in their little plastic wallet, along with the envelope and the concert ticket. I didn’t have the time or the brain power to dwell on what it all meant. I pinned on a smile as I walked up the stairs.
***
The drive to Monroeville the next day wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. I’d spent the night before looking at every single note JJ had left in my locker, comparing them to the writing on the envelope until there was no doubt in my mind that he’d been trying to communicate with me since the start of senior year.
I still wasn’t sure what his motivation had been, but I wasn’t angry. It was hard to be angry with him when all he’d done was make me smile and recommend some truly awesome songs. I was determined to talk to him about it, but I needed time to digest it myself.
So I had decided to put it to the back of my mind and enjoy the gig. It was easy enough—JJ was on form as always, gorgeous and witty. Jessica was so excited to see Taking Back Sunday that I thought she was going to vibrate out of her skin. Ash was her usual sharp edged self, red lipped and grinning. Even Dylan seemed on the verge of cracking a smile as we headed to the venue, singing old school TBS songs at the top of our lungs.
The awkwardness crept in as we queued to get into the gig. Jess and Ash were talking about a music video they’d seen online, while Dylan glared at any guy who got too close to them. That left JJ and I standing on our own, off to the side a little, my hands stuffed in my pockets while he fumbled with a cigarette.
“So . . . did you have fun in school today?” I asked him, holding back a laugh when he hit me with a withering glare.
“Did you?” he replied, eyebrow quirked. “Kelly and I are on the outs, you know, because I feel like I’ve regained some sense of sanity in the past few weeks. Needless to say, school isn’t exactly my favorite place right now.”
“Was it ever?”
“Valid point,” he grinned, shrugging carelessly as he lit his cigarette. “How was your day?”
I shrugged too, while I searched for an answer. I’d spent the day confused, but deep in thought. Trying to figure out JJ’s motives was harder than any math problem.
“Well, I made it through a day without crossing the path of a homophobic jock, so that’s a win,” I told him, smiling. “And now I’m getting to see one of my favorite bands, with some of my favorite people, in this kick ass little venue. I’ve had worse days.”
His smile softened, the fading daylight tangling in his golden hair. The sunlight made him squint, but he didn’t bother to put his sunglasses on. He gazed up at me, his dark blue eyes quiet and steady.
“You know I’m in love with you, right?”
He spoke like he was asking about the weather, the ease of his tone completely at odds with his words. I felt my mouth drop open, my breath stuttering in my chest. I had been waiting for the right moment to bring up his notes, had been expecting him to dismiss my curiosity with his usual bright, slanted smile.
“What?”
His smile faltered, but he recovered well, hitching it back into place. Something in his eyes had frozen, too, like a deer caught in the headlights of my doubt. I didn’t mean to dismiss him, but he’d caught me off guard. I knew he enjoyed surprising me, so I thought he’d be used to my wide-eyed, stuttering responses.
“I didn’t realize until I got home yesterday that I’d written your name on the envelope with your ticket, and contrary to what Jessica says every time you refuse to cut your hair, I know you’re not an idiot. You know I’ve been leaving notes in your locker, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“I don’t really know what it means to be in love with someone,” he admitted in a low murmur. I watched, hypnotized, as he swept a hand through his glittering hair before dropping my gaze. Looking into his eyes was not a good idea. His tee shirt had ridden up, exposing the swallow inked into the skin pulled tight across his hip—so looking down wasn’t a great idea either. I was screwed.
I felt as if he was bombarding me. He looked so good, sounded so sincere and was offering me something I’d been daydreaming about since the day I admitted I was gay—a boyfriend. He loved me, or he at least, he thought he did.
“You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up,” he continued, quietly, leaning in so his half-whispered words could work their magic. “And you’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. I’m pretty sure that’s what love is, right?”
“JJ, I’m flattered, really, but . . .”
“But what, Jack?”
He pulled away so quickly that I shivered, cool evening air flooding into the space he left behind.
“I know that there’s something between us that runs much deeper than friendship. I feel it, when we’re together. I know it sounds cliché, but we have a connection. I’m not imagining this.”
“No, you’re not,” I assured him, reaching for him. It was an instinct I didn’t bother to fight—I needed to hold on to him, hold him in place. “You’re not,” I repeated. “But you can’t just tell me you’re in love with me and expect me to . . . I don’t know, just accept it.”
“Why not? Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not that,” I replied, frustration bubbling under my skin. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I had to say something. He’d never spoken to me with such clarity. It was just typical that the one time he had a grip on what he wanted to say, I was lost for words.
“Hey, I think they’ve opened the doors!” Jessica said, bouncing between us.
JJ slipped away to dispose of his cigarette, throwing me a glance over his shoulder.
I followed them into the venue, my eyes locked firmly on the back of JJ’s head. It was pretty much the only safe place to look. Every time my gaze swept downwards, towards the small of his back, I found my mind wandering into dangerous territory. I stood beside Jessica, with my arms folded, wondering what the hell was going on, while JJ headed to the bar.
There was no point pretending I didn’t have feelings for JJ. From the moment he’d walked into the practice room, he had been on my mind. He made me blush and made me feel braver, all at once. There was no denying I was attracted to him, but I’d told myself that it would be have been weirder if I hadn’t been attracted to him—he was beautiful. Finding him mind numbingly attractive didn’t mean I was in love with him.
Oh, shit.
I was definitely in love with him.
I found myself staring at him all through the band’s set. He looked miserable, his gaze flickering over to me at pretty regular intervals. I wondered how long he’d last. I could tell he was dying to say something.
He held up pretty well, all things considered. The band was just launching into their last song—“Flicker, Fade”—when he turned on his heel and stormed off, blond hair flying. My stomach dropped, and before I knew what I was doing, I was chasing after him.
“JJ!” I yelled, cursing under my breath when he managed to evade my grip.
He was way faster than me, bobbing and weaving through the throng of joyous fans. I caught him just on the outskirts of the crowd, my hand catching his and holding on so tight, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let him go.
I pulled him backwards with more force than I had intended. He swore as we collided, but I held him steady, my free hand slipping down his side to his tattooed hip.
“Just let me go, Jack,” he growled.
“No,” I replied, smiling as I leaned down to kiss him.
The music drowned out the roaring in my ears, but it was a surprisingly quiet moment. I could feel JJ’s heart hammering against my own. His gold tipped eyelashes brushed against my blushing cheeks when his eyelids fluttered, every shared gasp burning into my memory. I swept my hand up his arched back, pulling him closer so that I could feel the heat from his skin through my shirt.
“Jude,” he murmured between fevered kisses.
“Jaden,” a soft sigh before he caught my bottom lip between his own.
“Keswick.”
“Have Faith in Me”—A Day to Remember
JJ Keswick was known to be difficult—too rich, too handsome, too clever for his own good. Most of the girls who dated him were willing to put up with a lot, because they wanted him so badly. Everything about him was enticing, from his windswept hair to his crooked grin. His careless generosity and bad attitude were all part of his inescapable, undeniable charm.
Jude Jaden Keswick, as it turns out, was a perfect boyfriend.
Behind closed doors, anyway. He wasn’t ready to be out, and I wasn’t going to force him. He whistled our song as he passed me in the hallways at school and kissed me hard enough to make my head spin when we were alone. It was enough. It was more than enough. It was everything I wanted, without ever realizing I wanted it.
We still bickered, of course. He’d kiss me in the shop before we went upstairs to the practice room—when we were with the rest of the band, all bets were off. I was amazed by how mature he was about the whole thing. Well, as mature as he could be. He pinched my ass from time to time, blew me kisses over his microphone and made jokes I was sure he knew would make me blush. I would laugh at him, scoop him up for quick kisses and ignore Jessica’s delirious giggles.
We had been officially dating for a couple of weeks when he decided to climb up the side of the house and fall in through my bedroom window, his usual grace abandoned as he lay laughing on the floor.
“My aunt’s not here,” I told him, laughing so hard that my sides hurt. “She’s at a theatre group meeting.”
I reached down to help him up, but the little traitor used my outstretched hand to pull me down onto the floor with him. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and he stole what was left over, kissing me like we hadn’t seen each other in days. I could feel the curve of his smile pressed against my mouth, little huffs of joy escaping as I tangled my fingers in his hair.
“We just gonna stay down here?” I asked, pulling away to look down at him. He was sprawled underneath my gangly frame, beautifully flushed and grinning as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I like the view,” he murmured, reaching up to trace my collarbone with his thumb.
I rewarded his sweetness with another quick kiss before I got up. I helped him to his feet, humming quietly when his hands found my hips, so he could pull me in for another kiss.
We swayed together in the middle of my room for a while. I’d been reading a book my dad had loaned me with music on in the background, the soft hiss of the vinyl keeping me company. His presence completed the scene, elevating it from a run-of-the-mill night into a memory I’d probably cherish forever. Just us, the music and his breath on my neck.
“So what were you up to?” he asked as he flopped down on my bed, sending my book and notepad flying. “Dreaming of me?”
“Always,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I started to gather up the paper that had spilled across my floor.
“Lemme help you.”
He slid to the edge of the bed and picked up some of the sheets of paper, his eyes narrowing when he realized what was scrawled across them.
The old Jack would have snatched the paper away from him, blushing furiously and stammering about how they weren’t important. The new Jack—Jude’s boyfriend Jack—still twitched at the idea of sharing his lyrics, but I understood that I couldn’t hide them from him. He knew I wrote songs, had asked me about them before. I didn’t want to lie to him.
“These are lyrics,” he said, smiling down at my terrible handwriting. “Right?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, sitting down beside him so I could hand him the other sheets of paper.
He flicked through them, his perfectly shaped lips moving slowly as he mouthed the words. I could hear the wheels turning in his head, fingers pressing to strings, conjuring up the sounds and melodies he’d weave around my words. I drummed a beat against his knee with shaking fingers, hiding behind my hair as he peeled back layer after layer of thoughts, feelings and misspelled words.
“Jack?”
“Jude?” I replied, pushing my hair away from my face to meet his insistent gaze.
It was an oddly intimate moment, one that warranted the use of his real name. I had continued to call him JJ in public, because his name felt like something to be protected. I liked that a part of him that was mine and mine alone. A secret of his that only I knew. It was petty, but he had shared so much of himself with other people, and I relished the fact that I knew something about him that so few people had been trusted with.
“These are really good,” he said, flicking through the songs. “You told me you were a shitty songwriter.”
“I am?”
“No you’re not, idiot.” He grinned, tackling me.
I laughed, letting him knock me back onto the bed. He showered me with kisses, straddling my hips and nipping playfully at my smiling lips.
“You really like them?” I asked when he finally stopped trying to smother me with kisses.
“Your modesty turns me on.”
“JJ,” I said, trying to keep from laughing. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
I glared at him for a second, steadfastly ignoring the flush on his cheeks and the wicked grin spreading across his kiss-swollen lips. He smiled down at me, gaze softening and eyes glittering in the glow from my bedside lamp.
“Yeah, I really like them,” he said, nodding for emphasis. “You should bring them to practice. I bet we could slip one of them into our next set at Howie’s without him noticing.”
I must not have looked convinced. His gaze darkened, clearly sensing a challenge. I quirked a brow at him, deliberately egging him on. I could only watch, mesmerized, as he leaned in so that we were chest to chest. There was a hint of stubble along his jaw, it scratched against my cheek as he started to sing in my ear.
I recognized the lyrics from an unnamed song I’d written about my mom. In the years following her death, I had found myself forgetting little things about her. I’d been so sure I would always remember the way sunlight streaked gold through her dark brown hair or the gentle lilt to her laugh, so I was pretty upset when I realized that I couldn’t conjure up an accurate picture of her anymore. That’s what the song was about, losing something that meant so much, even though it was intangible and always just out of reach.
He sang it as a mid-tempo ballad, slow but steady, his voice low and gritty as always. I could almost hear the full song falling into place around him, stark and dramatic. I knew I’d have to distance myself from the fact that it was my boyfriend singing and really hear the song, so I closed my eyes and focused on his voice.
It sounded great, eyes closed and all.
“Alright, you win,” I whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
He smiled like a kid on Christmas, before pressing a triumphant kiss to my lips.
“Don’t I always?”
***
We took the bundle of half-finished songs and fragmented ideas to our next practice. Jessica squealed in delight at the sight of them, while Ash gave me a sharp salute. Dylan almost made an expression, one corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly when I explained I had written the lyrics myself, and I wanted us to work on them together.
It took three or four practices for us to really nail the songs. Dylan and I worked on the melodies, running through each track with my guitar and his keyboard. Jess and Ash worked together on every song, combining their sounds to provide a solid, heavy base that JJ and I could really build on. We’d always worked well as a team, understanding each other’s strengths and weaknesses in a way that had evolved from our years of friendship. JJ would sit back and watch us work before adding his own fiery, finishing touch.
It was a truly collaborative process, and I got lost in it, caught up in the buzz I got from my scattered words evolving into such great songs. When we weren’t in the pr
actice studio, we were still constantly in touch, talking about the songs and what we should start with at our next practice. Jess, Ash and Dylan would text me their thoughts while JJ delivered them in person. He was soon able to scale the side of the house in about forty-five seconds flat.
It only took us a couple of weeks to have seven songs finished and polished to the point where I could play them as well as songs I’d been playing for ten years. It wasn’t until I was drawing up our set list for our latest gig at Howie’s that I realized we had almost half an album’s worth of original material.
“And what a kickass album it will be,” JJ crowed after I pointed out just how many songs we had.
I kissed him quickly when he leaned into the van to pull out his guitar case. We were about to play a set that included an original song, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Part of me wanted Howie to assume it was just some b-side he’d never heard before, but another part—the part of me that sounded a lot like JJ—wanted him to realize it was an original song and love it anyway.
“We should knuckle down and finish it, three more songs, and we’d be golden,” Jess said as I followed her into the club. “Do you have any other lyrics we can use?”
“I’ve been working on some new songs,” I replied, catching JJ’s eye as he swaggered by.
“He’s been really inspired,” my boyfriend drawled, grinning at me over his shoulder. It was full of promise—he’d be sneaking into my room that night, no doubt about it.
“Ew!” Jessica squealed, but she was smiling in her I’m-not-sure-why-but-I-love-you way.
We set up quickly and tore through our set with a ferocity I hadn’t felt since our first show. I knew there was a lot riding on “Concepts”, the song we’d be debuting. It had sounded great in the practice studio, tight and frantic, but there was no guarantee it was going to hold up outside those four walls. If it fell flat, it would be a major setback, and I knew it. Something happened when we all got nervous, though, something I had never expected. Instead of making us timid or cautious, it just made us play harder.
Fake It (The Keswick Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
