For Love or Money

by Tara Brown

  I look past her to the guy, wanting to give him a shitty glare but I can’t. He’s giving me the same sweet smile she is. I don’t even know how to take it so I just let them walk to me. He walks past but she stops, holding her violin case with the ponies and stickers.

  “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

  She nods at the guy. “Brought my friend, Leo, to see if I can play for him, in front of him.”

  It hits me then. “Is he the guy who sided with Nance in the big fight?”

  She shrugs. “He’s having a rough week.”

  What the hell? Did she send her sweet doppelganger to screw with my mind? “So you just forgave him for humiliating you publicly and declaring you were a virginity-stealing crack whore?”

  She sighs loudly and walks by me into the room.

  That might have been offside.

  When I get inside everyone is setting up. Leo is chatting up Mr. Sherman and not looking at Lana at all. He looks really familiar but the rich kids all look the same to me.

  Lana is still smiling. I don’t even know why it weirds me out. She’s a silly girl. She can smile at whoever she wants to and she can screw whoever she wants. I have no ownership over her. Being the first guy to make her feel something real in a long time, isn’t anything to get worked up about. Clearly the kiss meant nothing to her. I just need to make it mean nothing to me.

  Nick leans over, smelling her and grinning like he’s a wolf to her bunny. “You do smell good.”

  She sniffs her sweater and shrugs but her cheeks are blushed.

  I’m having a hard time seeing her as the same girl as before. Unless I look at Leo, then she is exactly the girl I remember. A weak girl who would forgive someone for something completely horrible, just because she has no friends.

  I open my case and pull out my guitar. She’s running her bow over the strings, making a sweet sound, almost like she has never been parted from the damned thing.

  Nick nods at Leo. “Hey, man.”

  Leo waves back but the greeting is more than that. They’re exchanging some kind of weird look.

  Brandon and Simon give me the go ahead, but I look at Lana for the start. She gives me the same face they are. She wants me to be the leader of the pack.

  “You don’t want to decide on songs?”

  She shakes her head. She looks nervous suddenly. Her smile is pasted on her face and there’s a trickle of sweat on her forehead.

  She’s going to freeze up.

  I nod at Nick. “Give the playbook a look and see if there is something you want to play.” The guys all immediately look at it and start to joke about songs as I saunter over to her, adjusting my guitar like it’s a casual chat. I don’t look in her eyes. She gets cagey if you do that. “You okay?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  She’s not.

  I lift a hand, placing it on her forearm, massaging as I run my hand up and down. “There is no one here, just us. Just stay calm and cool and watch me. Don’t look at anyone else. Just pretend we’re the only people in the room—you and me.” When I lift my eyes to hers I see something in them.

  Something beyond the panic.

  She bites her lip, smudging her lip gloss on her tooth. It makes me smile, which in turn makes her return the look. She sighs and I see her breathing for the first time in a whole minute as she whispers, “He’s gay.”

  I scowl and look around the room like she’s talking about someone specific. My eyes land on Leo. He’s leaning into Mr. Sherman awfully close for a rich player. “Really?”

  She laughs softly. “I knew you were pissed when you saw him, and I didn’t say anything and I feel kind of weird about it. Like it made my stomach hurt.”

  I roll my eyes. “You feel guilty for making me think he had a sleepover?”

  “I did what I normally would do with a normal guy.”

  I cock an eyebrow, panicking a little bit. “I’m not a normal guy?”

  She shakes her head, biting her lip again.

  “You’re sort of hard on a guy’s ego.”

  “I have been doing the same thing for six years, getting the same results. They’ve landed me here, I’ve—I’ve landed me here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want my dad to be mortified by me. I don’t want my mom to look down on me from heaven and be ashamed. I want something different and I want to be different.” She hesitates and then blurts out something that rocks my world. “And that kiss last night was the first one in my life that meant something to me.”

  My chest is so tight I can barely speak, and when I do, I go for the stupidest thing I can say. “The girl believes in heaven?” I am stunned but I have to make a joke. I don’t know what else to do, beyond sweep her into my arms.

  She nods but it looks like a twitch, it’s so subtle. “When one of your parents dies, you have to believe they can still hear you.”

  She is killing me. She takes her violin and walks to the page of music. I can’t look at her. I know how it feels to whisper your pain to the sky and pray that your dead parent can hear it.

  It dawns on me then, I don’t know her at all.

  I don’t think anyone does.

  Brandon lifts his face from the page. “Uhh, James, uh can we do ‘9 Crimes’ by Damien Rice?”

  I hate the way he treats me like I’m better than him. I lift my hands. “If Lana is cool with singing Lisa Hannigan’s part, then I have no issue.”

  Lana frowns. “Sing?”

  It makes me smile. I know she can sing. I can tell.

  She looks at Brandon and nods. “Okay, but can you play the song once? I don’t think I know if I remember it.” Her eyes dart nervously to Leo and Mr. Sherman as Brandon pulls his phone out, finds the songs and starts it.

  I love the song. It’s off of Shrek and it’s amazing.

  Her eyes light up. “Shrek!”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Brandon laughs.

  Simon winces. “That’s a pretty tough song.”

  Lana’s eyes meet mine. “I can do it. But it’s a weird song for a drummer to pick.”

  “Are there any drums at all?”

  She shakes her head. “Cymbals.”

  Brandon nods. “I know. I wanna test my delicate side.” It makes us laugh as a group and his cheeks blush like a friggin’ schoolgirl’s would. He and Simon need to act cooler if they want to perform on national TV. I make a note to get them hammered and let some sorority sisters take advantage of them.

  We all stand in position. Nick starts with the keyboard, technically the most used instrument in the song. His fingers are soft and fluid. The kid has skills. It’s weird and very unpredictable.

  Lana misses the cue and he circles back, starting over again as she takes a breath, holding her violin in place. She starts the song off. It’s soft and fragile the way she whispers the words. She breathes the last bit out and I start my part. My eyes don’t want to leave hers. The cold blue-grey stare and the way her hand waves the bow in front of the violin like a magician have me captivated.

  We lean in at the same time, singing the chorus together. It’s magical doing a duet with a girl. I want to do it for every song. I want her to sing with me always. She makes my voice sound strong to her feathery tones. The song ends with the keyboard and the hard beating of my heart.

  The guys howl and shout. Nick laughs and shouts louder than the rest. “LANA WEBBER!”

  She shakes her head, looking down. She’s humble? Jesus. I don't even know what the devil to think about her.

  “Lana, you are good! Like holy-shit good!” Leo comes running to the front of the room and wraps his arms around her, spinning her around. When he puts her down I feel like I’m standing outside of the circle, stuck in the moment we were having singing together.

  Leo is gushing along with everyone else but she is looking down. She isn’t confident or cocky or mean-girl self-assured. “Whatever. My dad made me take lessons. Everyone is good with lessons.”

  Leo puts his hand up by his eyes and makes a gestu
re like his head is blowing up, while Nick swings an arm around her shoulders.

  She points at the songbook and laughs. “Just shut up and pick another one.” She doesn't want the attention. Her eyes glance up through her lashes, searching for my eyes. When they meet mine I can’t breathe.

  I know there is a stupid grin on my face, the dopey kind you wish you didn't accidentally make when a girl looks at you, but somehow you always do. It makes her laugh but Nick holds the songbook in my face, jabbering on about wanting to do at least one Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

  But I can hardly hear him. I’m stuck on her and the horrid suspicion I have about where my feelings are going to get me.

  We play into the night, Leo dancing and Mr. Sherman sitting with a smile on his face like he’s at the Red Door in Nashville. He even has one leg crossed over the other with his foot in the air, tapping.

  At midnight we’re exhausted but I have never had more fun jamming in all my life. She didn't want to sing again and used her veto on every duet, but she played her heart out.

  We also learned Simon is a badass singer. Between the five of us, musical talent is natural, entirely, and to top that off, there is passion in each person. Even Nick, which is more surprising than Lana.

  Chapter Fifteen

  PTSD

  Lana

  Leo stays until the end of the night, sort of not what I expected. So when it’s time to leave, he walks me back to dorms, regardless of the fact my head keeps turning back, searching for James.

  Leo nudges me. “You need to get Simon and Brandon laid. They’re so virginal it’s going to scare off the ladies. A performer needs to know how to move inside of a woman if they want to move a woman.”

  It’s completely pervy but he’s super right. I nod. “We should get them drunk and hire some entertainment.”

  Leo grins and opens the door to dorms. “Let me handle that. I know a guy. He can hook us up.”

  My alarms instantly go off. “No. The last time you threw the party I caught shit.”

  He holds his middle finger up. ”Nice—grudge holder much? So you know a guy to call about hookers, do you?” He spins around and walks up the stairs backward mocking me.

  I pull a duck lips shrug. “Maybe.”

  He winks. “Can’t wait to see what you got!”

  I wave as I pass by his room, leaving him there opening his door.

  “Lana!”

  I look back, feeling an inner glow from the night and the patched friendship I didn't know I cherished as much as I do.

  He smiles. “Thanks for forgiving me and thank you for taking me tonight. You are way badass. Way more badass than I ever knew possible.”

  “Thank you.” I’m not sure it’s a compliment but I feel badass. I feel like I can conquer the world. I sang and I played, granted it was only in front of two people. But it’s all baby steps. Maybe next time I can play in front of three people. I open the door to my room and put my violin down. I am just in the middle of wishing my dad could have seen, when there’s a knock at the door.

  I know it’s Leo wanting to sleep over. If it were me I wouldn't want to be alone the day my entire family disowned me either. I open the door without asking who it is, jumping back a bit when I see James. He looks weird and he’s breathing funny.

  Jesus, is he actually the foot pervert? ‘Cause that would not be awesome.

  He leans on the doorframe and catches his breath. “Sorry, I ran and dropped my guitar off. I just—” He shakes his head and reaches for my face, cupping and pulling me into him.

  His lips crash against mine in desperate passion. The kiss and embrace are filled with trembling possibilities. He lifts me up into his arms, kicking the door shut and carrying me to the bed. My legs are wrapped around him, and my hands are scratching at his shirt, clawing for it to come off. He smells like a man, but not like any man I have ever kissed. Everything about him is bigger and scarier. So when he lays me back on the bed and slides between my thighs, sucking my tongue and grinding against me—I freeze.

  I don't know why but I do.

  He kisses my cheek, whispering. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

  I pull back. “I just—I don't want to do this.”

  “What? Why not? I can tell you do.” He chuckles, shaking his head against my cheek and taking a deep breath.

  “I don't, actually.”

  He doesn't say anything, he just gets up and walks to the door. He looks back. “What are you doing? What game is this one?”

  “It’s not a game, James. I just—I don't want to do this. Not like this.”

  He laughs and I have a bad feeling it’s at me. He turns and leaves, slamming the door and somehow I feel like an asshole.

  I don't know what it is at first, but when I do figure it out, my heart breaks. I lay in bed desperate for sleep but it doesn't come. So I do a random thing I don't think I should—I text Nick for an address. His response is not just an address but also a grainy selfie with him making out with some random girl.

  I grab my coat and run out of the room and down the hall, hurrying before I lose my edge.

  When I get to his door I have to take three breaths before I can even knock, and when I do, it’s timid and weak and not my knock at all. I can’t believe what I’m here to do.

  He doesn't answer so I knock again with a little more force.

  When he does, he still looks ruffled. He steps back, letting me into his dorm. It’s dimly lit and plain and smells like the hallway. He closes the door and leans his back against it, but doesn't say anything. So I do. “James, I like you. I like you more than I like guys, ever. I don't want you to think of me as me. I want you to ask me out for dinner or to a movie or to come and watch your soccer game or something not sneaky and secret. And not just sex. I want something different with you. I want to be different. You already make me feel like I am.”

  His eyebrows lift. “You came here at three in the morning to tell me that?” he asks it like I’m an idiot.

  I nod, almost scared of his reaction.

  He sighs. “So back there, I made you feel like—?”

  “Please don't. Can we just not ever talk about it again? I don't know what’s wrong with me lately, but it’s making me see things differently. The violin and the singing and the no drugs and everything. It’s just making me see things clearer, I think. Or my withdrawals are actually hallucinations of grandeur and my violin is nowhere near as good as I think it is.”

  “We both know you’re good.” He laughs. “You are making my head feel like it’s gonna explode. You have me up and down, and I can’t think about anything but you. Which is obviously helped by the fact your picture is on almost every paper and magazine lately. The secrecy is because I don't want anyone to know, for you—not me. I don't care if people see us together. I assumed you wanted privacy.” He gives me a sexy smile. “And you are blackmailing me.”

  I roll my eyes. “I never would have told a soul about that.”

  “I know.” He takes a step toward me. “I also know that you aren’t nearly as fake and petty as you always act. I was happy your father did this to you. I hoped it would make you straighten up and fly right. I want you to know, if I’d known about your mom I never would have gone about things the way I did.” My eyebrows knit together but he walks to me and runs his hands down my cheek. “I like you too. Not how I like other girls. I WANT you to come to my soccer games and give me that look you did when we were singing tonight, and I want to be the only person in the world who knows everything about you. Not what’s in the papers and not what shit you do in public that always lands you in trouble. I want to be the one lucky person who knows you like cats and no sweetener in your tea and that you hate scary movies but you watch them anyway.”

  It makes me smile. “I like sweet tea. I don't like scary movies, and if I watch them you have to promise you will cover my eyes but tell me what’s happening for all the scary parts. I do like cats, I had one when I was little. His name was Felix and I thought I
was so clever having a Felix the Cat.”

  “I will do anything in this world for you if you promise to stop letting old Lana work her way back in.” He kisses my cheek and holds a hand out to his bed. “You take my bed and I’ll take the sofa.”

  I look at the bed and shake my head, taking his hand in mine and pulling him to the bed. I kick off my shoes and climb under his sheets in my clothes. “We can be mature and have a sleepover.”

  “I don't know that we can be mature.” He makes a throaty noise and climbs in with me, not getting too close though. “You are trying to kill me. I know it.”

  I glance over at him. “You knew I wouldn't tell anyone and you joined the band anyway?”

  “Well, I wasn’t a hundred percent but I suspected. I also knew it would be a good chance to give you back the violin. Your dad made me promise that I would try to make you remember how much you loved music, once upon a time. I think he had a feeling I could.” The smile on his face makes me want to kiss him, but since I’ve laid down the rules of engagement, I don't. I just stare into his dark-green eyes until I can’t keep mine open anymore. It’s so weird my dad trusted him with that.

  When I wake up he’s gone but there is note on the pillow.

  Lana,

  Had an early practice. We have a big game tonight. I was sort of hoping you would come and watch it. I missed waking up next to you. Well I did wake up next to you but I tried real hard not to stare and watch you sleep. Real hard!

  James

  It’s creepy and yet not. He has pretty penmanship for a guy. I look around the room and resist every single urge I have to snoop.

  That is an old Lana trait.

  But damn I want to.

  I get up and walk to the bathroom and close the door and lock it. When I see the other door I realize he must have to share with someone and lock that door too.

  His bedroom door busts open. I slip to the door and press my ear up against it as someone storms in talking loudly. “Dude, where are you? We have to go. I phoned three times. Where are you?”