When the laughter dies out, Sam finally picks up her giant cup of ice cream and spoons some into her mouth.
“So, I heard you were looking for a bass player,” she mumbles while looking at Cole. “That true?”
He shifts in his seat and clears his throat. “Yeah, well …”
“He has an audition, and they desperately need an additional guitarist to make it. Temporarily, until they find a new permanent one,” I fill in. Cole’s always trying to protect his image, but he doesn’t have to be ashamed of losing one of his band members, not in front of my friends.
“But you’ll keep it tight-lipped, won’t you?” I ask.
“My lips are sealed,” she replies. “Don’t worry.”
“Good,” Cole replies a little too snarky. “So who is the guitarist then?”
Sam leans back and eyes her boyfriend.
Cole frowns and narrows his eyes. “What … him?” He points at Nate as if he can’t believe it.
“I rap, mostly,” Nate replies. “But I’ve been playing the bass on my off days for years. My dad forced me to focus on football while I was in high school, but music … that’s my real passion.”
“Music?” Cole cocks his head as if he didn’t peg him to be that type.
“Don’t believe me?” Nate raises a brow at him. He leans under the table and fishes out an actual guitar case that was stuck between their legs.
“Interesting,” Cole says. “You’ve got some surprises up your sleeve.”
“I can play some if you want,” Nate replies with pride in his eyes. “Just a few notes, I don’t wanna bother the other people here.”
“Sure, why not?” Cole says, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s hear it.”
Nate pulls out his guitar and puts the case away. The moment he begins to play, everyone’s watching him with perked ears and wide eyes, each note more beautiful than the one before. Cole’s noticed it too, judging from the glimmer in his eyes.
I smirk as Sam and I stare at each other, knowing these two are gonna be a great match.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late to save TRIGGER.
Cole
With my guitar strapped to my back, I meet up with the guys at TRIGGER’s last hangout … the club we first played at and the same one where Monica broke my old guitar. It’s a place filled with memories that I’m not ready to lose.
Tristan’s already there, drinking a Coke at the bar with Benji, who’s casually playing with his phone. I blow out a breath and head toward them. The looks on their faces darken when they spot me. Tristan shifts in his seat, ready to listen, but not for long.
“Took you long enough,” he says.
“I know, and I apologize.” I raise my hand.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here, to be honest,” he replies.
“Yeah, I’m only here because I don’t want to stop playing,” Benji adds. “But I don’t like what happened here.”
“I know, guys, and I’m sorry,” I say. “Can I sit?” I point at one of the chairs next to Tristan.
Both he and Benji nod, but Tristan looks away once I sit down beside him.
“So are you inviting Michael back?” Benji asks.
“No,” I swiftly reply. “Not a chance.”
Tristan sighs out loud. “Why? What could he possibly have done?”
I throw him a look and rub my lips together. “I can’t tell you … but I can invite Monica in, and she can tell you.”
He frowns and looks at the door the moment it opens. Monica steps inside, clutching her bag.
“Hi,” she says, waving.
“What is she doing here?” Tristan hisses. “All she did was distract you from what was important.”
“She gave me something to fight for,” I retort, looking him directly in the eyes. “If it weren’t for her, I would’ve gone off the deep end, and you know it.”
He’s quiet for some time, and I know he knows exactly what I mean.
Monica comes toward us and looks at them both. “I’m sorry for ruining your band,” she says. “If I’d known this was going to happen, I would never have left that party the way I did.”
“The party?” Benji frowns. “You mean when Cole carried you back inside while you were passed out? That party?”
She nods and looks down at her feet. “I was … exhausted from crying. Crying over Michael and what he and his buddies did to me.”
Tristan shifts in his seat. “What did he do?”
“He attacked me,” she explains, her head held high. “Chased me into the woods behind the house, and watched while his buddies sat on top of me, egging them on to do … to do …” She chokes on her words again, so I jump off my chair and grab her hand.
“You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” I say.
“Thank you,” she replies with a genuine smile on her face.
“Michael tried to assault you at the fucking party?” Tristan asks.
Monica nods, and he immediately slams his hand onto the bar so loudly even the bartender is spooked. “I can’t fucking believe it. I trusted that motherfucker.”
“I didn’t,” Benji says. “You should’ve seen him alone with fans. He always went too far.”
“I know, but he only did it to willing fans. Not like this,” Tristan says.
“I knew he was like this,” I say, inserting myself back into the conversation. “And that’s not the only thing he did. You both know about the drugs. She did too. He even forced me to make sure she wouldn’t talk, or it would ruin our band.”
I look at Monica feeling the guilt sweep through me once again.
I wish I had never put her in that position.
That I had never treated her the way I did.
I was foolish, overcome with the protectiveness of the only thing I knew I had … my band.
But I didn’t know back then what I’d be willing to lose to keep her safe.
Everything.
“It’s my fault that it got this bad, and no, I can’t make up for the lost time, nor can I change what happened. Michael is out, and Mr. D kicked him out too.”
“I heard. He wouldn’t shut up about it.” Tristan takes a sip of his drink. “I had to mute him to stop the constant barrage of texts.”
“He was the problem all along,” I say. “He’s what ruined our band.”
“Yeah, but we can’t do anything without a guitarist,” Benji replies.
“I know, and that’s why I actually wanted to meet up.” I look at Monica and nod at her, and she turns around and quickly runs to the door.
“I want to try to fix things. I know this isn’t perfect, but it’s something,” I say as Monica brings in Nate. They both stare at him like he’s an uninvited guest.
“This is Nate,” I say while Nate waves. “He’s gonna be our new bass player.”
Tristan makes a face. “A new guitarist?”
Benji cocks his head. “Really?”
I nod a few times. “Best chance we have at making the audition.”
Tristan hops off his seat. “We don’t just need to make the audition. We need to earn it. Win it. And the only way to do that is through hard work and perseverance.” He eyes Nate up and down. “You think you got what it takes to join TRIGGER?”
Nate pulls his guitar out of the case, puts on the strap, and winks at me while Monica and I step aside. When he begins to play, both boys are completely stupefied, and their jaws practically dropped to the floor.
“But how did you find him?” Tristan mumbles in awe.
Monica folds her arms, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Thanks to this … distraction over here.” I pull her close as we watch Nate play a song for us with pride.
When he’s done, they both clap. Then Benji asks, “But can we really do this in time for the audition?”
“Of course,” Nate replies. “I can practice the songs at night and rehearse them during the school’s lunch break.”
Tristan frowns, then li
cks his lips, eyeing us all, but mostly me. “And you’re sure this is going to work?”
A smug grin spreads on my face. “Thousand percent. It has to … because there’s no fucking way I’d ever give up on TRIGGER.”
Slowly but surely, a genuine smile forms on Tristan’s lips. “If you say so, I believe you.”
“Aw … c’mere,” I say, and I hold out my arms. “Group hug.”
“Really?” Tristan frowns, but I still give him the biggest of bro-hugs possible, Benji included.
“I’m sorry, man,” Benji says. “We should have trusted you.”
When I release them, Tristan starts to stumble over his words too. “Yeah … I’m … sorry on my part too. I didn’t mean to be so cruel, but it’s hard when there’s so much at stake, you know?”
“I get it,” I reply. “No hard feelings.”
Tristan throws me a playful punch. “Michael sure did a number on you. You’re covered in bruises.”
“Small price to pay to finally be rid of him,” I say, winking.
“Thanks,” Benji says. “For bringing Nate in, I mean.”
“Oh, you don’t have me to thank for that.” I look at Monica and beckon her to join us. “She did all this.”
“You?” Tristan raises a brow and lifts his head. “You brought TRIGGER back together?”
She bites her lip and anxiously steps forward. “I didn’t want this to mean the end. Especially not when I know you guys will make it big.”
A tepid but certain smile lights up his face. “I guess you’re not as bad as I thought.” He playfully pats her shoulder a few times, which turns everything into an awkward mess.
“Thanks, I guess,” she replies.
“That’s the way you’re gonna treat the girl who saved our asses?” I mock.
His cheeks start to glow. “Well, maybe, I mean, she did kinda distract you … a lot.” When we both throw him a dirty look, he adds, “But she’s also a good influence on you. And she brought an amazing bass player into the building.”
“Thanks, bro,” Nate replies, as he takes off his guitar strap and puts his guitar back into the case. “But just know, I don’t play for free.”
Everyone starts to laugh. For the first time in a long time, I’m confident we’re gonna make it. I’m convinced I made the right decision.
Because without Monica Romero, I would’ve probably given up on myself by now. I would’ve given up on trust, on my future, my school, and even this goddamn band.
But I pulled through, thanks to her and those sweet kisses that make me forget everything bad about my life.
And I grab her and press my lips onto hers, claiming her in front of everyone.
I don’t fucking care anymore what anyone thinks. I’m doing this for me. For us.
She’s the reason I do this.
Why I fight.
And I won’t stop fighting for her.
Not until she tells me to.
Epilogue
Monica
The club is booming with people, as we all gather to watch TRIGGER performing on stage. It’s a much bigger venue than the last time I saw them play, so their efforts to stick together and keep going really paid off.
The audition was a success, and the record label has asked them to write more songs, which they will now produce professionally and market to the world. Of course, the boys were ecstatic. Even Nate couldn’t stop celebrating this hard-earned win.
Nate has blended in so well that it’s hard to believe he only joined them a few weeks ago. He plays their songs as though he’s played them his entire life, and he seems to love being on stage.
Cole and the others even let him have his own few songs where he’s allowed to rap, and the crowd always goes mental when he goes up to the mic. Cole doesn’t even seem to mind sharing the fame. He looks much happier and more content than he did before … before Michael was kicked out … before he met me.
I smile at him as he plays his guitar like a pro while the crowd goes wild with excitement, hollering their names, chanting along to each of their songs. It’s a thrill to be able to witness his rise, and it’s humbling to know that I was a part of that. That I helped keep them together, despite all the odds being stacked both against them and me.
But you know what they say … never give up on hope.
And I’m far from ever surrendering.
Being with Cole has taught me that no matter what trouble gets on your path, you can get through it, as long as you keep breathing and have people around you who care about you, who will help you get back on your feet again when you need them.
Cole was there for me when I was at my darkest, and now I’m here for him at his lightest.
And I can’t help but smile when I watch him perform on stage with the entire crowd’s eyes set on him while his are focused solely on me. And I can’t help but stare right back at him with wonder in my eyes, completely mesmerized by his performance just like the very first time I saw him play.
“My God … I still can’t believe he’s your boyfriend,” Melanie suddenly says, and I almost lose my shit.
“Boyfriend?” I stutter.
“Yeah, aren’t you two kind of officially a thing now?” she asks, winking. “I saw you come out of the practice room, remember?”
My entire face glows. “Uh … I guess.”
She throws her arm around my shoulders. “C’mon, Mo, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“You two having fun without me?” Sam just crept up behind us, almost giving me a heart attack. “Here.” She hands both of us a Coke. “On the house.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I take a huge sip.
“I think I said something I shouldn’t have,” Melanie jests while ogling me.
“What?” Sam muses, and she looks at me now, because I’m only getting redder the more they talk.
“She and Cole are secretly a thing,” Melanie whispers.
“Yeah, I knew,” Sam says.
“Okay …” Melanie frowns and throws me a look. “So I was the only one who didn’t know?”
“Sorry,” I say, making a face. “We never officially labeled it. It just sort of happened.” I shrug. “It’s complicated.”
She takes a sip. “Doesn’t have to be if you two just talked.”
“That’s what I always say,” Sam says. “But she never listens.”
“Hey! I didn’t bring you two together so you could gang up on me,” I interject.
They both laugh, and Melanie throws an arm around Sam too. “I’m glad you did, though, because I can totally see this being a thing. The three of us against the world.”
“Don’t forget Cole and Nate,” Sam says, dreamily staring at Nate on stage.
“Everyone can be a part of our little club,” Melanie says, “but we need a name.”
“Noooo, please God, no,” I retort, and they both burst into laughter.
“I’m just messing with you, Mo.” Melanie throws me a playful punch, and I poke her in the belly to get back at her.
The last song finishes, and the boys take a bow on stage, and the fans give them a final round of applause. Cole jumps off the stage and immediately comes toward us while the guards in the front hold back the fans from flocking after him.
Without a second of hesitation, he grabs my face and kisses me on the lips in front of all my friends, and it’s the most sultry, sexy kiss I’ve had in a long while. These performances really get him riled up.
“Fuck, that was beautiful,” he groans against my mouth.
I smile, but when he leans back, and I see the looks on my friends’ faces, I’m mortified.
“Well, if that isn’t an intro, I don’t know what is,” Melanie muses, sipping her Coke like it’s nobody’s business.
As our lips unlock, the others stare at us while hiding laughter, and I blush again, knowing they saw him practically eat me up.
“There’s a room in the back if you need it,” Sam jests.
“Oh, stop,” I growl, p
unching her shoulder. “Like you and Nate weren’t fucking smooching nonstop every day after you just met.”
Now it’s her time to blush. “We were sensible about it.”
I snort. “Sensible my ass. You two were groping each other at lunch and skipping out on classes just to make out in the bathrooms.”
Sam’s eyes widen.
“Yeah, I said it,” I add. “Out. Loud.”
“That was once. Maybe two times,” she retorts.
“Every. Damn. Day,” I say, and Nate grabs her by the waist and nuzzles her.
“I remember …” The way he groans makes me think he gets just as horny from performing as Cole does. Is that a guy thing or what?
“Hey, I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but don’t we have somewhere to be?” Cole suddenly says.
I gasp and check my watch. “Shit!”
I grab his hand and drag him toward the door while simultaneously waving at my friends, hollering, “Sorry! Got to go! Promised Mom I’d meet her after!”
“Talk later. Have fun!” Sam yells while groping Nate.
“You too!” I yell back.
“Thanks!” Melanie calls out, still casually sipping on her drink while waiting for the next band to come up to the stage.
“C’mon,” I say to Cole as we walk back to his car. “Mom’s waiting.”
“Oh boy …” he groans as we sit down and close the doors. “I forgot about it.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like remembering,” he adds.
I snort. “It’ll be fine.” I lean in to press a sweet kiss to his cheeks. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
He raises his brows at me and starts the engine. “Yeah … or I’ll be dead.”
“So … you’re finally here,” Mom says as she opens the door.
I clutch Cole’s arm while all his muscles are tightening. “Hey, Mom, sorry we’re late.”
She arranged a special meetup with the three of us while my dad’s still at work, just so she could personally grill Cole.
“As usual,” she mumbles, but she steps aside anyway. “C’mon in.”
We quickly pass her by, and she scoots in front to escort us to the table. “I made a late-night snack. Hope you don’t mind.”
Rowdy Boy (A High School Bully Romance): Black Mountain Academy Page 27