Southside High

by Mankin, Michelle

  “You’re pretty, even when you’re worried.” War’s intense brown gaze dipped to my mouth, and my lips tingled from his regard.

  My heart raced as he lowered his head. My lips burned, and so did the rest of me when he stamped his to mine and drove his tongue inside my mouth.

  War’s mind-scrambling kisses had grown more insistent the closer I got to my seventeenth birthday. I’d let him know right from the beginning that seventeen was the earliest I would consider going all the way. In my head and my heart, that age felt like a dividing point between a girl and a woman. Plus, I had my goals, and accidentally getting pregnant and having those plans derailed wasn’t something I was willing to risk.

  I didn’t mind his insistence. His kisses made me hot. They had from the beginning. I wanted what he wanted—us to go all the way when I turned seventeen—or so I told myself repeatedly, especially whenever Bryan was around.

  “Ahem.” A throat cleared.

  My palms on War’s solid chest, I pulled my lips from his and glanced up. A white-haired librarian frowned disapprovingly at us.

  “No kissing in the library.” She wagged her finger at me.

  “Sorry,” I said, and she shuffled away.

  “I’m not.” War grinned.

  He loved getting into trouble and breaking rules. I wasn’t opposed to a little rebellion, but I had my goal, so I tried to only bend rules, not completely break them.

  “We need to get going, Lacey.”

  “Our gig’s not until nine.” I needed to rework equations. Like a bazillion times. Do them faster.

  “It’s seven thirty.”

  “Oh crap.” I glanced out the window and found it was dark outside. I’d lost track of time because I was desperate. The SAT was tomorrow. “My keyboards.”

  “Already set up.” War skimmed his knuckles along the edge of my jaw. “Bry and I took care of it for you.”

  My heart rate sped up at the mere mention of his name. Bryan and I were still friends, though not as close as we’d once been.

  I wanted us to be closer. I tried, oh, how I tried to make that happen. On the walks from school twice a week when Bryan escorted me, and War had voice lessons with the young and beautiful choir teacher. Also, Bryan took me home once a month when War had some mysterious day-long commitment.

  During those one-on-one opportunities with Bryan, I babbled about every topic I could think of. Music, mainly, because that was the only subject that got me better than a one- or two-word response. But my childhood friend remained distant—I suspected because War told him to keep his distance. But I couldn’t confirm my suspicions. War wouldn’t admit anything when I asked.

  “That’s great. Thank you. But I won’t have time to go by the house to change. I have to go like I am.” I glanced down at my ruby-red sweater set and jeans. It could be worse. Luckily, I hadn’t remained in the T-shirt and sweatpants I’d woken up in.

  War scowled at me. “You look great, and who the hell cares what you wear? No one can see you behind your keyboards. If you would sing up front with me—”

  “No.” I cut him off with a frown. We’d had this argument over and over. “You’re the lead singer. I’m backup.”

  My role in the band was the only important argument I’d won. Typically, War made unilateral decisions, and most of the time, that was okay by me. After all, in War’s eyes, Tempest was his. And I loved being in the band with the guys. I just didn’t believe in Tempest the way War did.

  I had my own dream. One that I felt like I had some control over. One that I had to make work for me.

  “See you later, Chad.” I leaned in and gave him a one-armed hug that he returned. Pushing my chair back, I gathered my things and stuffed them into my backpack.

  War stood too and threw his arm around my shoulders.

  “You coming to Footit’s to see us tonight?” I asked, giving my study partner a questioning look.

  Footit’s was a small club in a not-so-nice section of Southside. The proprietor, Addy Footit, was the only club owner who had given us a chance when we first started out. We didn’t have a big following yet, but a respectable number of people showed up whenever we played.

  “I don’t think so.” Chad dropped his chin, avoiding my gaze.

  Had War said something to warn him off? I had a few school-friend acquaintances who were girls, but only one friend of the opposite sex that War tolerated.

  “Why not?” I asked. “I’ll save a dance for you after our set.”

  It was our first time playing on a Friday night. We weren’t the headliners, but it was a big break, a chance for more people to discover us. Also, it was a chance for me to do some dancing when the top-billed band, Rebel Heart, played.

  “I think I’ll pass.” Chad exchanged a glance with War. “I need to get a good night’s sleep before the test.”

  “Okay.” I hid my disappointment. I liked when Chad came to our shows. He was always in my corner, and he didn’t often let War run over him like the guys in the band and most everyone else did. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning.” Chad pointed at his watch. “Early, remember.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” I said with a grin. “I’ll set my alarm.”

  Chad was the only kid I knew who had a car, which was helpful since the test was at eight a.m. on a Saturday at a middle school several miles away. Thinking about the test, worrying about the test, made my stomach hurt, negating the pleasure of being held by War.

  There was only one person who had the power to extinguish that pleasure.

  War

  “I don’t like it.” I frowned at Bryan’s reflection in the dressing room mirror.

  “You just have to deal, man.” He looked up from the guitar he was tuning and shook his head. “You can’t dictate every aspect of her life.”

  “Why the fuck not?” I turned my chair around to face him. It pissed me off, him not giving me the answer I wanted.

  “Lace likes Chad. You’ll lose her if you beat up her best friend.”

  “He’s too touchy-feely with her.” And she was with him too.

  “She ever given you a reason to doubt her loyalty?” The folding chair Bryan sat on creaked as he leaned forward. He seemed overly interested in my answer.

  “No. But—”

  “But nothing. She’s a strong, independent girl. You have to let her be who she is.”

  “Woman,” I said, correcting him. “Her birthday’s soon.” And fucking hell, I was ready to take things to the next level with her.

  “Yeah. That’s right,” Bryan said casually, but his tone was off. “I almost forgot.”

  Before I could delve into the reason for his tone being off, King jumped into the conversation.

  “Seventeen’s a big deal, man.” He deftly spun his sticks. “We should do something special. As the only chica in the band, I know she feels left out sometimes. Maybe we could get a cake and surprise her at practice.”

  “I’m taking her out to dinner,” I said. Then Kyle’s afterward, but I didn’t share that part with them.

  I’d never taken her there before. I kept that part of my life separate from her. But we couldn’t go to my place or hers, so Kyle’s was the only remaining option. Funds were too tight to stay at a hotel, and I sure wasn’t fucking her in a bathroom. Her first time had to be special.

  “No practice on Thursday,” I told the guys.

  “No practice?” Sager slammed the book he’d been reading closed and gave me a wide-eyed look.

  On folding chairs next to him, King and Bryan wore matching expressions of astonishment.

  “I don’t think she’s aware we don’t have practice.” Bryan stretched his legs out and removed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. “Is it supposed to be a surprise?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “She doesn’t like surprises.” Looking smug, Bryan put the cigarette he’d fished out of a crumpled package to his mo
uth and brought up his lighter.

  My brows drew together. I hated when he did that, told me something about her I still hadn’t figured out, even after a year of being exclusive with her.

  “No smoking in here, pendejo.” King put one of his drumsticks between Bryan’s cigarette and the lighter, preventing him from lighting it.

  “Fuck,” Bryan said. “I forgot.”

  “Gotta go outside. I’ll go with you.” The big Latino stood, nearly taking up the remaining space in the small room. “I need some fresh air.”

  What he meant was he needed to throw up. King always got sick from nerves before we went onstage.

  “Cool.” Bryan stood up and set his guitar in a nearby stand, then joined King at the door. “Where is Lace?” He turned to me, his expression neutral, but his eyes were active. “I thought you picked her up from the library already.”

  The crease between my brows deepened. He was startlingly focused on her whereabouts every day. “She’s changing into a different set of clothes in the other dressing room.” I narrowed my gaze. “The clothes you talked Dizzy into bringing over for her.”

  “Right.” Bryan rubbed the back of his neck. “She has her solo part tonight. I figured she’d want something different.” His unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. “Where’s Diz?”

  “Women’s restroom with some blonde he picked up.”

  King and Sager rolled their eyes as Bryan asked, “Didn’t he come in with a brunette?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “So, what’s your point?” That was Dizzy, after all.

  “No point.” Bryan grinned. “You should learn to play the guitar. Ladies like guys with guitars.”

  “Ladies don’t give you two losers blow jobs in the bathroom,” I said to Bryan. He and Dizzy vied for the top manwhore spot in the group. “I don’t need to play shit. I have the best girl.”

  There had been no other chicks for me of any sort since my misstep with Lace. But jacking off alone or with her wasn’t good enough anymore. I’d waited long enough. I wanted all of her. That was the other reason we needed to go to Kyle’s place. Once I finally got her, I wasn’t going to want to stop anytime soon.

  King turned to Bryan. “I thought you and Missy were a thing.”

  “Nah, not really.” Bryan shook his head. “We just have a mutual understanding.”

  Whatever the fuck that meant. Bryan wasn’t the only guy into Missy Rivera. Lace’s bestie wanted her too. That was one of many reasons I didn’t want Chad hanging around. I liked Missy for Bryan. She kept him mostly occupied and away from Lace.

  “Running out of time to grab a smoke,” I said to remind Bryan.

  “Yeah. C’mon.” His bronze skin looking green, King popped open the door.

  A huge blond guy in biker gear stood in the doorway, his hand poised to knock. “You Tempest? The band going on before us?”

  “Who’s us?” I stood, straightening my shoulders. I didn’t like the cocky vibe he was throwing around.

  “Rebel Heart. The best band in Seattle.” He lifted his weak-looking chin. “I’m the lead singer, Vance Nagel.”

  “We’re the best band in Seattle,” I said, cranking my chin higher than his.

  “Bullshit. Who’s opening for who, loser?” Vance gave me a condescending look.

  Seeing red, I strode straight to him. He was bulky like Bryan, his leather vest straining to contain his massive chest, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take him.

  Grabbing two handfuls of leather, I lifted the asshole off the concrete floor and slammed him hard into the wall on the other side of the hallway. He grunted when his spine hit the plaster, and the stupid grin slid right off his ugly face. A picture next to his head with Addy’s first dollar in it fell to the floor, the glass shattering.

  “I got it.” King bent to scoop it up. He had a soft spot for the Footit’s proprietor, like we all did. She hadn’t just given us our first break, she was also a big fan. Addy spread the word about us and fed us during our sound checks. She was the best.

  Suddenly, the door for the dressing room next to ours popped open.

  “What’s going on?” Lace peeked out wearing only a slinky robe. “Is everything okay?” she asked, looking at me, her expression not entirely surprised. I’d been involved in more than one altercation since we started going out.

  “Yeah, babe. I got this.”

  “She’s hot.” Vance’s dark blond brows shot up. “She yours?” The stupid douche winked at her. “I’m Vance. Got a raging hard-on for you, baby.”

  I shook him, regaining his attention. “You don’t even get to look at her. Get Lace back inside, Bry.”

  “Sure,” he said, but I didn’t even glance at him. I was going to mess this motherfucker up.

  Lace

  My eyes wide, I backed up as Bryan stepped inside the room, a black tee and dark jeans sinfully conforming to his sculpted form.

  “What’s going on with War and Vance?” I asked, my heart racing as Bryan turned and closed the door. We were rarely alone these days, except for our walks together. But with him shooting up in height and filling out in all the right places over the past year, suddenly the dressing room seemed much too intimate and small.

  “You know that jerk?” he asked, turning back around. His gray-green eyes narrowed.

  “He was in my poli-sci class at my old school.” My throat went dry as Bryan ran his gaze over me. Beneath my robe, I was practically naked, and every inch of that nakedness prickled with awareness as if he’d physically caressed me. “He’s loud. Obnoxious. Difficult to ignore.”

  “He hit on you?” Bryan took a step closer. The two feet of distance between us became only one.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t think he ever noticed me.” My eyes burned as I steadily returned Bryan’s gaze. He barely seemed to notice me either. And what was wrong with me that the less attention he paid to me, the more I craved it?

  “I doubt that was true.” His gaze drifted over my features.

  “I used to sit in the back,” I said with a shrug. “I always got to class way before he did.”

  “He’d have to be blind not to notice you.”

  Bryan’s focus dipped, making me very conscious of the gap between the lapels of my robe. My breasts swelled as if he’d shaped them with his hands.

  “He’s in a band,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was Rebel Heart until I saw him here at Footit’s. He used to have pretty girls hanging all over him.”

  “None as beautiful as you, I’m sure.” His gaze lifted, capturing mine. I’d dated War a year. During that time, Bryan had never said anything like this.

  “If he thinks so,” I whispered, hiding safely behind the illusion that Vance was our topic and not Bryan and me. “Why did he never say so before?”

  “He probably knows you’re out of his league.” Bryan took another step closer, and the tips of his black boots touched my bare toes. “Knows you belong to someone else.”

  The way my body reacted, it was like he’d blown a teasing gust of breath over the throbbing center of me. In the last year with War, I’d learned a lot, developing a sensuality I’d never known I had.

  Now my pulse pounded hard, and my nipples tightened as his tantalizing alpine scent spiraled around me. Trembling, I swayed, and he reached for me as if no other had claimed me, his hands closing around my upper arms. Beneath the silk, the warmth of his touch branded my skin.

  I licked my lips. “What if that weren’t the case? What if I didn’t belong to someone else?”

  “But it is, and you do.”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth, his grip tightening. My lips felt overly full, stretched to the limit, desperate like the rest of me.

  “Bry.” I lifted my head. “Please just—”

  The door popped open, and War swept his gaze over us, frowning. “You okay, Lacey?”

  “Yes, of course I am.” I took a step away from Bryan, wanting to be the one to br
eak the connection this time. This had happened once before, or I thought it had when he’d walked me home from school the first time. Long ago, sure, but it still hurt to remember the way my expectations had soared, then plummeted.

  “Good,” War said.

  “But are you okay?” I asked him, avoiding eye contact with Bryan. “Your lip is bleeding.”

  “Vance is bleeding worse, I assure you.” War wiped the edge of his mouth with his thumb, then pulled me into him.

  His ringed fingers closing around my upper arms, he put his hands right where Bryan’s had left their mark, replacing the heat but not erasing it. Lifting me onto my toes, he lowered his head and laid a deep, wet, coppery-tasting kiss on my lips. All the parts of me that had awakened because of Bryan now throbbed for War.

  When he pulled his mouth from mine, my body naturally leaned toward him. He turned me on with very little effort. But he wasn’t focused on me. His gaze was on Bryan.

  “We gotta kick ass onstage tonight,” War said. “Not letting Rebel Heart show us up.”

  “We’ll kick ass.” Bryan shifted and cleared his throat. “When have we not?”

  “True.” War settled me into his side.

  Bryan’s expression darkened, his lids hooding when I tried to make eye contact. He was shutting me out. Well, at least I’d shut him out first.

  I leaned closer to War, placing my hand on his chest.

  “We’ll change the set list. Heavy metal all the way.” War tipped his brown gaze to me. “We’ll have to table the keyboard solo you’ve been working on. Debut it on another night.”

  “Okay.” I was a team player, but I was disappointed. I’d anticipated being in the spotlight and had chosen my outfit accordingly.

  “These guys have a big following.” Bryan’s gaze zeroed in on War. “Diz said the place is already packed.”

  “Right.” War’s expression turned determined. “So, we need to knock all those Rebel Heart followers on their asses. Win them over fast.”