Rumors and Lies at Evermore High Boxset: Three Sweet YA Romances

by Emily Lowry

  “Can I speak with you?” I asked.

  Mr. Adebayo motioned for me to take a seat. “What brings you to the Pinnacle, Ms. Danielson? And so late in the day, too?”

  “It’s about my Wuthering Heights project.”

  Mr. Adebayo steepled his fingers. He had a coffee stain on the sleeve of his shirt. “The one you’re doing with Mr. Carter, who has recently decided that school no longer has any value?”

  “That’s the one,” I said weakly. I was relieved Mr Adebayo seemed to understand.

  “Have you heard from Mr. Carter?”

  My smile faltered, and I shook my head. Had anyone heard from him aside from Leo and DeAndre — who also wouldn’t answer my texts? “He’s not talking to me anymore.”

  “Shame,” Mr. Adebayo said. “I had hoped that partnering you with Mr. Carter would encourage him to actually attend and enjoy his education. Unfortunately, my instincts have proved wrong.”

  “I don’t think Trey cares if I’m his partner,” I said. I hesitated, then spoke again. “We’ve decided that it would be better if we could do this project separately.”

  And there it was — the move to dissolve our partnership. To officially break our relationship, whatever it was. Trey would be happy; he was going to play on stage at Prohibition and he wouldn’t have to finish his English project. It was a win-win for him. And a lose-lose for me. But what else could I do?

  “Are you sure?” Mr. Adebayo asked, eyeing me seriously. “This will mean a lot more work from your part.”

  I said the words that broke my heart. “I’m sure.”

  49

  Hailey

  My travel bag sat on my bed, surrounded by a hundred different outfits. This evening, the entire cheer team would leave for May Madness in Denver. Normally, I’d be excited to stuff everything I owned in my luggage and hit the road, but tonight, I had zero energy.

  I still hadn’t spoken to Trey. Without our banter, my days were lifeless. Grey. I wasn’t eating much, and I felt like I would break down at any second. Probably at the worst possible moment, if recent history was any sign.

  You can do this, Hailey. Just put one piece of clothing in the bag.

  Could I do this?

  I doubted every piece of my life. Every action I took, every thought in my head. Which ones came from me? Which ones came from someone else? When someone said the name Hailey Danielson, did they think of the cheerleading captain? Adam Zamos’s ex-girlfriend? The know-it-all in English class? The ungrateful step-daughter? I had a thousand people pulling me in different directions and I feared that when they were through, there’d be nothing left of me.

  I had started this semester as Adam’s girlfriend and it looked like I would end it as Trey’s ex-girlfriend. That one hurt the most. I didn’t want to be Trey’s ex-anything. I remembered how he had laughed off my idea about promoting a song about his ex-lover. Trey Carter had no room in his life for love. No room in his life for me.

  “Stop with the self-loathing, start with the packing,” I said. I hated when people were overly dramatic. And yet here I was, standing in my bedroom, having yet another identity crisis.

  I packed my cheer uniform first. At least I knew that I needed that. My cheer tracksuit. Makeup bag. Bows. Glitter. Then my pajamas, I needed those too.

  But after that?

  Everything I owned reminded me of someone else. My gold halter shirt reminded me of Prohibition. My Evermore High varsity sweatshirt reminded me of football parties and sitting around fires with Adam. My white Marc Jacobs blouse reminded me of prim and proper dinners with my step-dad’s family, where I had to be sure I projected the right image.

  How many people was I trying to be?

  “Whatever.” I grabbed a scattering of clothes and shoved them unceremoniously into the bag, then zipped it up. I opened my laptop and stared out the window. Our Wuthering Heights project was due soon, and I still didn’t know what I would do. Working on it just made me miss Trey more. My mind kept flashing back to that night in his van, where he had shocked me speechless with his admission that he had read the book.

  And thinking of being in Trey’s van was painful, because it also made me remember the way his arms felt around me. The way his lips crashed into mine, taking my breath away.

  Being with Trey had been the other end of the universe from being with Adam. Adam had always made me feel insignificant, stuffed perfectly into my place. Being with Trey had been messy and exciting and adventurous and sexy — it had brought out desires for a life I didn’t even know I had.

  But he had just seen me as his sidekick. A means to an end.

  The easiest solution for my English project would be to make some adjustments to the musical Trey and I had prepared. I could cut the music — there was no way I was singing in front of class by myself. Even acting would be difficult. I’d need to play both parts.

  “Well, Hailey, you’re good at playing different parts.”

  I laughed, but it was not a joyous sound.

  50

  Trey

  My guitar rested in my lap, my calloused fingers picking out a tune. Since the day Hailey had chosen a better life over a life with me, I’d done nothing but rehearse and play my guitar. Mom was too busy working to notice, so after dropping Isaac off at school I always came straight home.

  I told myself I didn’t go to school because of Click — I didn’t need to be part of those stupid games or have my picture splashed all over that dumb app again. I could just imagine the humiliating blasts — Golden Girl dumps the total loser she was slumming it with.

  But in the back of my mind, an insidious little voice confessed the actual reason I didn’t show my face: what if she was back with that jerk Zamos? I hadn’t been good enough for her; she had made that clear. But I couldn’t handle seeing her with that guy who had hurt her so badly.

  She deserved better.

  And sleep? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. The best I could do was lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, occasionally drifting in and out of restlessness. Was it because of Hailey? Was it because my entire life would come down to one night at Prohibition? I didn’t know. I was doing my best not to think about anything.

  I played a few more notes, then set my guitar on my bed, grabbed my pad of paper, and scribbled out a handful of lyrics that had been on my mind for weeks now.

  She’s a fire in the darkest sky,

  A golden girl with a heart of July.

  With a sly smile, wildfire eyes

  Catch your heart in a summer surprise.

  A dream that comes alive

  I added a few notes of how I suspected the melody would go.

  My fingers clenched the pad of paper. I wanted to throw it against the wall. Or to at least tear out the sheet, rip it into a million pieces, and scatter it like confetti. But I couldn’t do that. This was the first time I was writing a song for someone that wasn’t me. It was important.

  Even if the person I wrote the song for never heard it.

  Would she even want to hear it? Why would she listen to some boy from the wrong side of the tracks serenading her?

  I had just been a blip in her otherwise perfect life plan.

  That was a fact of life — if you didn’t have money, life was hard. And no one who had an easy life was going to purposefully make their life more difficult because of —

  What? Love?

  No, we never said the words. And if we were in love, wouldn’t it have been stronger than this?

  Love didn’t fall apart so easily. She didn’t love me. How could she?

  I tossed the paper to the floor. Now was not the time to worry about some girl. Now was the time to write, play music, and pull myself — and my family — out of this place.

  51

  Hailey

  I pulled into the parking lot at Evermore and turned off my car. The charter bus for the cheer team was waiting at the other end of the lot, the windows decorated with paint and signs. It was Friday evening, and that was the b
us that would take us to May Madness. We’d booked a hotel in Denver, where we would stay overnight and compete tomorrow.

  The squad was awash with excitement. All week, the trip to Denver was all anyone could talk about. Who would our main competition be this year? Would we beat the Eastmount Knights, our school’s biggest rivals? What waterproof mascara was everyone using? Curlers or straightening irons to do our ponytail styles?

  Our group text threads were so out of control I needed to turn my phone off.

  As much as I had been looking forward to May Madness, it wasn’t the thing occupying space in my mind. There was something else that was special about tonight — it was the night that Trey was supposed to perform at Prohibition. Yet another reason we would have never worked. We weren’t on different pages; we were in entirely different books.

  Weren’t we?

  I debated sending him a text wishing him good luck, but I thought that might throw him off more. As much as I wanted to talk to him, I knew how important tonight was. This was everything he had ever dreamed of. He needed focus, not a distraction.

  Not a sidekick.

  A palm slapped my window.

  I jumped.

  It was Jordyn. “Let me in.”

  I did.

  “Jordyn, what are you doing—”

  “Chase bailed on Dylan for something, so I had to help him after school in the gym,” Jordyn said. “Apparently, because we’re twins, that means we’re interchangeable. Gotta love that boy logic. The bigger question is: what are you doing here?”

  I pointed to the bus. “Usually the cheer captain goes with her team—”

  Jordyn fixed me with a withering glare. “Not when there’s something more important going on.”

  “I told you he doesn’t want me there,” I said. This argument had come up between Jordyn and I three times this week. Four, now. “He’s made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me. He’s probably failing English now because he doesn’t want to even be in the same room as me.”

  “Hails, I love you, but sometimes…” Jordyn shook her head. “Like, seriously — where did my friend go?”

  “I didn’t go anywhere.”

  “Oh, you’re so outside your body you’re not even on the map,” Jordyn said. “Lights are on, nobody’s home. And, if I’m being honest, you’ve been weird for a while now.”

  “Weird?”

  “Weird. Ever since you stopped hanging out with Trey. You’ve lost all your sparkle.”

  “Sparkle?” I repeated numbly.

  “Remember the girl who stood up to Trey Carter in Notes? Remember the girl with the sassy comebacks? The one who dumped Adam because he wasn’t making her a priority? Her. Where’d she go?”

  That was a good question that I didn’t have an answer for.

  I shrugged. “Life was a lot easier when I knew who I was supposed to be. I was the cheerleader with the rich stepdad. Threw all the best parties. The girlfriend of the football captain. I knew my role. And now… now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I think I’m supposed to get on the bus and go to the competition. So, I’m here.”

  “Think?” Jordyn said derisively. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement. What do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Between you and Chase, I’ll have grey hairs before I’m old enough to drink.”

  I shot Jordyn a glance.

  “Legally,” she added. “Both of you can’t get out of your own way. At least Chase knew that he wanted Abby. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know that you want Trey?”

  I felt a brief pang in my heart. I wanted Trey. I wanted Trey more than anything. But how could I fit into his life if he just saw me as his sidekick?

  “J, I’m tired of putting on costumes. I’m tired of not knowing who I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to want. If I go on the bus to Denver, am I doing it because I want to, or because I think I have to? If I go to Prohibition, do I want to, or do I have to? And if I want to go to Prohibition, is it actually me that wants that? Or do I just want it because I think I’m supposed to want it?”

  Jordyn looked at me blankly.

  Then she slapped me. Lightly, but it still stung.

  “Excuse me?” A blister of anger boiled inside me as I rubbed my cheek. “What the—”

  “If you don’t shut up and listen to me, I will do it again. I swear. And you’re not strong enough to beat me up. I know, because I can beat up my meathead brother.” Jordyn glared at me. “You are more inside your own head than anyone I have ever met. You are overthinking your overthinking. Let that sink in.”

  “You don’t think I don’t know?” I said, exasperated. This was going nowhere fast. “If you have all the answers, why don’t you tell me who I’m supposed to be? The cheerleader? The nightclub singer? The sidekick?”

  “Hailey.” Jordyn was practically shouting. “You ARE the cheerleader. You ARE the nightclub singer. You ARE the sidekick. And you ARE the hero. People. Can. Be. More. Than. One. Thing. You are forcing yourself to choose when you don’t have to.”

  “But what will people—”

  “Who gives a crap what anyone thinks? If they can’t resolve in their small little brains that you can be a rich cheerleader and a rebellious underdog, that’s their problem, not yours. You spend your entire life trying to cram yourself into the boxes that other people make for you. Screw those people and screw their boxes. You aren’t wearing masks, you aren’t pretending to be different people, you ARE all of those different people. So get out of your head and start acting like it.”

  We sat in silence for a moment.

  “Wow,” I said. “It must have been difficult for you to hold that in for so long.”

  “You have no freaking idea,” Jordyn said. “Now. The moment of truth. Forget about what the head cheerleader should do. What does Hailey Danielson WANT to do? What will make YOU happy?”

  52

  Trey

  My hands trembled. My entire body was filled with an overwhelming nervous energy. I couldn’t stop moving. I paced through the backstage area at Prohibition, moving from one side of the room then back again. If I moved any quicker, I suspected I’d tear a hole in the carpet.

  Leo and DeAndre sat on a leather couch. DeAndre had his eyes closed, his head tilted back, and was whispering something to himself. Leo stared at the golden clock hanging from the wall, watching the second hand slowly circle the face.

  Through the walls, I heard Prohibition’s usual Friday night crowd buzzing. People cheered, yelled, threw down some drinks, laughed.

  I felt like throwing up. So much of my life had led to this exact moment, and now that it was here, I felt like I would wither beneath the spotlight. I would crumble, or my voice would fail, or I’d play the wrong note and everyone would start laughing.

  A black curtain parted and Lucy waltzed in. She was dressed in a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit with a matching trilby hat, cocked at a jaunty angle. She looked like a fashion designer who had a run-in with a mobster. Perfect, as usual. “Packed the house for you, boys. I assume you aren’t going to let me down, now? Most cats have nine lives, but you three only get one.”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracked.

  Lucy examined me, a firm expression on her face. “You wouldn’t let a girl down, would you?”

  “No.” My mouth was dry. I took a drink from a bottle of water. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Will you? You boys look like you’re heading off to war.” Lucy scanned the room. “Where’s the doll?”

  I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Lucy. Not at all. “Which doll would that be?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “The one who’s way out of your league.”

  I shrugged, trying to act casual even though the words stung. “She came to the same conclusion — she was out of my league. Didn’t want to be seen with me. Thought I was too low class to be worth caring about.”

  “Tell me — how can the world change so much, and y
et young boys remain so dumb?” Lucy didn’t wait for an answer. “If you ever looked past that chip on your shoulder, you’d know that doll put her heart in your hands. I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve never seen someone work so hard when they weren’t the one reaping the rewards.”

  That was true. Hailey put in a tremendous amount of effort.

  “She did too much,” I said. “I was just dragging her down.”

  “Or maybe she was trying to pull you up,” Lucy said. She sighed. “One day you’ll learn you’re not the dead weight you think you are. You’re not your daddy, boy. But you keep pushing people away because you don’t think you’re good enough, you’ll end up in the same place he did.”

  The words were a swift kick to the groin. My body went tense, and a lump formed in my throat. Hailey had tried to reach out to me over the past few weeks, but I ignored her because I didn’t want to be a burden. I pushed her away. Cut her out of my life.

  Why? Because deep down, I didn’t feel good enough for her. It was easier to pretend you didn’t want something than it was to admit you weren’t allowed to have it.

  Suddenly, desperately, I wanted her here. Needed her here.

  The fog of the last few weeks was lifting.

  What had I done?

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket, hoping to see the familiar “1 new message from Hailey” flash on the screen.

  It was blank.

  She wouldn’t come.

  And it was my fault.

  “Whatever,” I said. “It’s too late now.”

  53

  Trey

  “How’s everyone doing tonight?” Lucy asked.