Brutal Boys

by Nora Cobb

  “That would be hysterical, though I’d make a better Cher,” comments Luna.

  “You haven’t seen me in sequins and heels,” replies Theo. “All men love to wear drag. Straight and gay. Besides, no one would know you were dressed up.”

  I sigh, looking at my reflection in the window. “I have to do something with my hair.”

  No one argues that point. The color has grown out, and it’s less pixie and more shaggy. But I’m not sure I want to keep my hair short.

  “If I were really dating Chase, how would I look?” I ask.

  “That’s it,” comments Theo, “dress like his dream girl. It will really fuck with his head.”

  “He must have an IG account,” adds Luna. We comb his account, and Chase definitely has a type. “In an odd way, you almost look like that. He obviously has a thing for honey-blondes and that witchy look.”

  “Did he date her?” I point to a picture of him hugging a newly popular actress at a premiere.

  Theo shrugs. “He does have an exciting life away from Redwood.”

  I feel creepy, but I look through every picture on Chase’s IG. I stop on one with a guy that must be his brother because they look alike. It’s odd, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Chase look that happy in real life.

  Theo looks over my shoulder, and I put my phone down. “They all have types, and in an odd way, you fit each one.”

  “Explain, please,” I ask.

  “Well, Silas wants a woman that looks wealthy—the aloof ice princess, cold like him or what he aspires to be. Dom wants a girl that looks like she’d walk around barefoot and have sex on the beach. Not the drink, but the actual activity. Chase wants drama and mystery. He likes taking risks—fast cars and singing rock. That’s why you probably appeal to him because you have secrets.”

  The idea of being mysterious and adventurous excites me, but not with my friends. I pout when I look at him. “I’m open about myself.”

  “When you’re called out,” Luna chimes in. “You could win poker with a bad hand. Your face is blank sometimes. You’re pretty guarded—not that I blame you. But you also seem a little dangerous. Definitely rock and roll.”

  “We didn’t tell you this before,” adds Theo, “but Chase held onto you after the accident.”

  “So I heard.” Chase was almost possessive in the way he watched over me at the nurse’s office. That’s what bothers me. If he was behind the exploding cigarette, then why did he care so much when I got hurt?

  Theo finishes drawing his picture and shows it to me.

  “If I pull that off, I will look so hot,” I reply.

  “Oh,” he says, “you will pull it off.”

  Chapter Six

  “The list of performing acts is more closely guarded than the ballots for the student election,” quips Talia.

  We decide to get ready at Dad’s house, so no prying eyes can see our transformation into famous rock, rhythm, and pop duets. The set list is kept at the admins’ office, and each student has to check in to see if their act has been chosen to perform. The admins didn’t know Billie Eilish, so kids stuck with the classics to win the prizes.

  I model my costume in my bedroom mirror. “I was surprised I was able to get Stevie Nicks.”

  Talia gives Theo a look that’s hard to miss.

  “What?” I ask. “I demand to know what that eye thing was about.”

  “Fleetwood Mac was taken, but Chase wanted it,” explains Talia. “You better work it tonight, because somebody’s going to be pissed if you don’t.”

  “I look like AHS Coven.” I swirl around and look at the black scarves swirling around me in the mirror.

  “No, you look hot.” Luna grabs me by the shoulders and makes me sit down. She’s got a weird hot iron to wave my new honey-blonde wig. “Chase is going to freak.”

  Luna looks hot dressed up as Mick Jagger. Early Mick is so feminine that Luna looks like a girl anyway, just one in tight leather pants and scarves. She really likes that Dom is going as Keith Richards. It’s funny. The hottest girl on campus is dressing up as a guy.

  “Halloween is an excuse for other girls to wear short skirts,” snips Luna, “but I do that every day. I don’t need a holiday to show my legs.”

  I shake the layered hair off my shoulders. The honey-blonde wig makes my eyes pop. I flick mascara on my lashes. And the soft waves frame my face. I step back, smoothing the tight corset down over my stomach.

  “I like this look. This is California to me.”

  “And to your dad and Jagan and most of the teachers at the school.”

  “Rock and roll,” I murmur.

  “You have to do the pose,” pipes up Theo.

  “I will. It’s all lip sync?” I ask.

  Theo shakes his head. “If you want to win a prize, you have to flaunt a talent.”

  In secret, I’ve been practicing the songs on the Rumors album. I nailed down the lyrics, but Stevie Nicks has a voice that can’t be duplicated. I’ll do my best. Man, I want some courage in a pill, but I have to stay sober. This is a small step—staying sober when the pressure is on. Dad has gone hard-core keto, so I can’t even sneak a swig of something out of a bottle. I sigh and try to focus on why I’m really doing this. I chose the path I should be on. I can feel it through me, the way my body feels light and I can float to the ceiling on a new high. This is right for me, but I’m letting myself become distracted by three boys.

  Why? Are they going to pay my rent or put food on my table? In a way, they might. This is a test too. It’s more than vanity. I have to win this to survive. Small steps. I want to hide behind the camera, but I also have to sell myself before I can sell my talent.

  “Meditation helps,” Talia whispers in my ear. I hold up my hands, and we watch them tremble in the mirror. I sit on my bed and push them into my lap.

  “Come on, everyone.” Talia claps her steady hands. “Let’s do a group ritual. “

  “Whoa, deep. Just in time for Halloween. Are you going to channel Jagan?” Luna laughs and grabs Theo’s hand, pulling him toward the circle forming in the middle of my bedroom.

  Talia closes her eyes. “The only ones who can bring us down are ourselves. No one can do it without our permission. Do they have our permission?”

  “No,” we answer.

  “Don’t feel you,” she complains.

  “No!” we shout back.

  Talia smiles. “You sort of have me convinced.”

  “No!” We scream at the top of our lungs.

  My bedroom door swings open and in runs Dad. “What the fuck is happening?” he asks, looking wildly around the room. “Who’s shouting?”

  Laughing, we run to him, and Dad becomes the epicenter of our group hug. He looks sharp in his black suit, ready to go to the ball. Dad loosens up a little and starts to laugh. I hug him close, and tears shine in my eyes as I look up into his.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Thank you, baby.” Dad hugs me tight and presses his lips to my forehead. “You’re doing great. We’re both doing great.”

  Parents are invited to the ball, which makes sense since most of them are bankrolling the costumes. The opening concert is held in the amphitheater, and each act has three minutes to perform. The evening sky is lit up with lights as our rented limo pulls past the Redwood Academy sign. We circle around the campus, and Dad asks the driver to drive slowly as Theo and Talia stand up and scream out of the sunroof.

  “Rock on you, motherfucker!” screams Talia.

  She could give two fucks that my dad is in the limo with us. Alarmed, I look at Dad. He gives the crazy gesture, and I motion half-and-half. He laughs. The limo stops near the main campus buildings, and Talia and Theo climb out. They strike a pose as Theo swings his long black hair behind his shoulders as Talia lifts her hand in a peace sign.

  “His body is hot in that halter dress,” laughs Luna. “Cher would be jealous.”

  Luna and I pull up to the town house to meet up with our dates. My legs are sha
king, and I call myself a little fool for caring what Chase will think when he sees me. I step out of the car with Luna. We don’t go upstairs. I reach in the driver’s window and tap the horn. The curtain in the back pulls aside, and I can see silhouettes looking back at us. My stomach bottoms out, and I’m trying not to shake. Why should I care so fucking much? I need to get my shit together fast.

  And we hear voices. I take Luna’s hand, and we walk toward the boys as they come down the stairs. Chase pauses mid-sentence and stares at me. I meet his gaze and don’t dare look away.

  “Wow, Vicki,” Dom smiles, “you look just like Stevie Nicks.” He looks at Luna. “And you look like the man.”

  Luna the ham strikes her best Mick pose and pouts. Dom smiles, pleased with what he sees. But Dom watches me as he puts his arm around Luna’s waist. I don’t feel anything, but my senses are bouncing around in circles. I’m aware of Dom, his closeness and his attention. I feel every glance brush my skin, but my eyes stay trained on Chase.

  “You look great,” I tell Chase before he can say anything. “Just like the album cover.”

  He’s a double for Mick Fleetwood, dressed in a black vest and short black pants. A white poet shirt exposes his cut chest. And his legs—he may bring back short pants single-handedly with those calves. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and he’s wearing a thick beard. He even has the footstool.

  “You look witchier than me,” I giggle.

  “Nice,” he nods. “You have on ballet flats.”

  I rise up on my toes. How I manage that on lumpy grass, I don’t know, but I do it with a poised expression on my face. Seriously, I practiced for the entire week.

  Chase hands his phone to Dom, and then holds out the mirror sphere just like the one on the cover of the iconic album.

  “I want a picture with Vicki.” Chase wraps his arm around my waist for a moment and tugs me close. “You really do look hot.”

  I smile despite everything that has happened. I feel proud as I gracefully hook my knee over Chase’s bent one. He holds the globe and stares into it as I sweep my arms out behind me.

  “One more,” he tells Dom. And we freeze. I feel the energy of the moment as we hold the pose, and I wonder if my Welsh witch can tame the dog of Hades.

  “Got it.” Dom hands back the phone.

  Chase sweeps his hand under my knee and carefully lowers it to the ground. I catch my breath as I realize how gentle his touch can be. He was only rough once, when he told me to leave Silas alone. I wonder where sour boy is, but Luna asks before I dare to.

  Dom shrugs his shoulders. “Silas doesn’t want anyone to see him until the last possible moment. TV stars like to make a red carpet entrance.”

  We walk toward the limo and climb inside. Dad moves over and nods to Dom. He knows nothing about the faked video. I will never tell him.

  “Dom.” Dad reaches out to shake his hand.

  “Sir. I mean, Greg, this is Chase Evans.”

  “Sir.” Chase shakes Dad’s hand, and Dad’s expression conceals that he recognizes the name. But I feel his leg stiffen against mine. Dad smiles broadly, as if he’s shaking hands at a business meeting.

  “Greg,” Dad corrects him. “It’s a fun night. No need to be formal.”

  “Thanks, Greg,” replies Chase. “I’m honored that Vicki agreed to be my date tonight.”

  This time Dad doesn’t conceal his surprise so well. He shoots a look in Dom’s direction as Dom wraps his arm around Luna’s shoulders. Luna smiles weakly.

  Dad smiles and nods. “The Glimmer Twins?”

  Dom smiles. “We’re going to tear up the stage.”

  Luna and Dom rehearsed their moves since neither one plays an instrument. Luna opted to lip sync as, pretty as they are, their flat voices will distract the audience.

  Limos are lined up on the drive leading to the path to the amphitheater. A group of freshmen who opted to work the event are crowded by a makeshift red carpet that leads down to the stage. The floodlights are bright as day as the participants pose in front of a huge banner with small lettering that reads Redwood Academy Halloween Ball. Thankfully, the backdrop in the photo booth isn’t black, or I would fade into the background. For a split second, everything around us goes silent as Chase and I approach the top of the path. Someone whispers if we’re a couple, and the answer is “maybe.”

  On cue, we strike the iconic pose again and flashes go off. People hold up phones and take pictures. I strike another pose from the photo shoot that produced the cover. Chase plays along, holding the sphere in front of me as a gentle wind lifts the sheer black scarf that surrounds me. I get into it, focusing on the ball, and then I’m no longer myself. I’m Rhiannon as Chase becomes a warlock and taunts me with the sphere as if he knows my future. Chase gracefully lowers my leg, and we bow before walking away down the path.

  “Great, Vicki,” he whispers, wrapping his arm around my waist. “You’re fucking amazing.”

  And that’s the moment I lost my cool. I’m grinning like a fool. Like a girl in love on a date with the best-looking guy there ever was. I look up at Chase with adoring eyes and openly admire his good looks.

  Dad remains in the back with the other parents and looks happy speaking to a couple of people I don’t recognize. They don’t look like mover and shakers. Not everyone is fodder to the industry. I turn around and enjoy the show. Dom and Luna tear it up as the Glimmer Twins, performing “Start Me Up.”

  “Luna has all the moves,” I whisper to Chase.

  “We have them beat.” Chase folds his arms as he smirks.

  Chase takes some poetic license, and instead of a drum kit, he plays an acoustic guitar for our performance. We decided a fast song would be better than a slow one, so we picked Stevie’s solo song, “Edge of Seventeen.” I look out at the faces staring back and maybe that’s a mistake. I freeze a little, but then I look past the rows of judging faces and I see my dad smiling back at me. He does look proud, and his warm expression of love unfreezes me. I grab the mic off the stand and sing about the white-winged dove. The words pour out of me as if I wrote them. Chase moves forward for a solo while I pirouette across the stage. We have three minutes to perform, but we don’t stop until the last note. We bow low, staying in character as we walk off the stage to overwhelming applause.

  “Where’s Silas?” I whisper to Luna as we sit down.

  She shrugs, and then we hear a loud noise. The audience turns to see a cloud of smoke rises into the air. Jagan is going to have a fit. All pyrotechnics are forbidden, especially outside, but obviously one person doesn’t care, and that one person is Silas.

  Silas appears out of the cloud of smoke with mic in hand and starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody.” He has a fucking voice. The place is stone quiet—not a sound even from the crickets as he takes over. He walks slowly down the stairs to the stage and is joined by Rosemonde and two other students. Instead of being a couple, he’s a quartet, and they’re playing all the instruments.

  Mouth wide open, I look at Chase. He shakes his head and places his index finger under my chin, shutting my mouth. So, Silas does have talent, and he’s not just skating by on good luck and good looks. He’s belting that song out to the last note and not shaming himself. When he’s through, even Freddie Mercury would have applauded.

  “That was fucking amazing,” I moan.

  ***

  After an intermission, the ball moves from the amphitheater to the gym for dinner. The gym isn’t used for sports but rehearsals. The dance students meet here regularly, and the acting students take Move for Actors instead of physical ed. Students have open rehearsals during lunch, and I stop in sometimes to watch the dance students rehearse their musicals.

  Tonight, though, the place is decorated to the max. The large space is decorated with silver-and-black streamers and balloons. Tables are covered with black tablecloths with dark purple flowers as the centerpieces and a ring of carved jack-o’-lanterns circles the room. Redwood may appear to be laidback, but so
meone’s parents have money.

  I take my seat beside Chase and Luna. Silas opts not to sit with us. There’s only seating for six at each table. But he sits near us, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise every time he looks over.

  The winners are announced, and of course, Silas takes the grand prize, but Chase and I get a coveted award for vocal performance. I guess that’s a nice way of saying I can sing.

  “Vicki, you were good for an amateur.” Chase pats my back.

  I smile, admiring the silver cup. “I’ll take that.”

  We clap when Luna and Dom receive an award for dance performance. I’m impressed. They had serious competition, but then I notice that only two tables are getting awards. The mood starts to shift as the muttering picks up, and the applause slows down. I start to feel my body close down. Chase places his hand on my back and strokes his thumb along my spine. It relaxes me. I need to face my demons and other people’s.