Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  “Yes, you do.”

  I turned to see two girls who lived in the room across from me standing just behind my back. I didn’t know their names, but I appreciated their support.

  “Stop trying to build yourself up into something you’re not, Bethany,” the taller blonde one said. “You’re not Clay’s girlfriend and you don’t have any claim to him at all. Everyone knows Clay kicked you out of his room last year when you tried throwing yourself at him. I’m sure there are pictures of you, naked, doing a real walk of shame. Because Clay didn’t want you.”

  Bethany’s fists clenched tighter, and her face turned so white I worried she’d faint. Just when I was about to step forward to catch her elbow, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

  “Watch it, Jenna. I don’t see you in a relationship with Kai even though everyone on campus has watched you pant after him. You, too, Nessa. You’re nothing special.”

  The dark-haired girl strolled up next to me, smirking. “Oh but I am. I’ve got Dane wrapped all over this.” She indicated her generous figure. “Clearly he loves real women. Just like Clay’s into Abbi because she has a great personality to go with all that gorgeousness. Which is why we like her.”

  Even I heard the subtext there. I’d managed to land square in the in middle of another hornets’ nest. Some luck I was having.

  Bethany opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She wheeled around and slammed out the door.

  The girls high-fived. “Oh, damn,” Nessa said, chuckling. “That felt really good.”

  She stuck out her hand. “I’m Nessa. This is Jenna.”

  “Abbi. And thanks.” I backed away. Nice as the girls were, I didn’t think they’d helped me to, well, help me so much as to tell off Bethany. “She was waiting for me when I came in.”

  “She’s been territorial about Clay since we started last year. It’s about time someone put her in her place, and I’m so glad it was me.” Nessa scrunched her shoulders and beamed.

  “Okay then.”

  “Anyone on Bethany’s shit list is someone we gotta know,” Jenna said. She eyed me up and down. “You a runner?”

  I nodded, surprised by the sudden change in topic.

  “Thought so. You’ve got the legs. We’re about to hit the track. Want to join us?” Jenna asked.

  I nibbled my lip, considering. These girls had definitely heard what Bethany said. I was pretty sure they knew who I was. Knew what was posted about me. Did I want to open myself up to another round of jealousy and drama?

  “Um, no. But thanks.”

  Jenna touched my shoulder. “Is it because of what Bethany said? You don’t need to worry. We don’t believe her. She lies all the time.”

  “If you’re dating Clay, then we’ll be spending lots of time together,” Nessa said. “Dane, my boyfriend, is the guitarist in their band.”

  “Got it,” I said. “But Clay and I aren’t dating. We barely know each other.” I shrugged. “Maybe he’d say we’re friends.”

  “He’s definitely mentioned you, especially last night after Neal and Charles cornered you on the stairs,” Nessa said.

  “Which was no bueno,” Jenna said with a scowl.

  “Let’s drop your stuff up in your room,” Nessa said.

  I already had on a pair of yoga capris and a sports bra and tee. I’d planned to hit a treadmill at the gym, but I preferred running on a track. Could I really go with girls I didn’t know?

  “I’m not sure. I just stopped by to pick up my iPod. I’m actually driving to Portland this afternoon. To meet a friend who goes to school there.”

  After my family interrogation, I’d fled to my room where I’d let Sally finagle me into talking to her. I picked at my cuticle, wondering again if reopening any kind of relationship with Sally was a good idea. Probably not, but her last text had caught my attention.

  I have information for you. About Steve and Marin Tech. I want to help.

  “Oh, come on, you look primed for a workout. Don’t tell me that wasn’t your original plan. We’ll come up to your dorm with you,” Jenna said. “I’ve been dying to see inside your room since you moved in.”

  I stumbled and Nessa caught my arm, linking hers through mine. “Don’t mind her. She’s just hoping you keep a life-sized cut-out of your stepdad in there. Which would be super creepy. So you better not because I’ll revoke my offer of friendship.”

  I shook my head, still uncertain how to take these ladies. They were a powerful duo, these two. “Come on in,” I said. “I’m really boring.”

  “We noticed,” Jenna sighed. “We were hoping you were more like the Internet stories. We need more excitement here. At least a steady stream of hot guys.” Nessa nudged Jenna with her elbow. “What?”

  Nessa glared, and Jenna turned her horrified face toward mine.

  “Oh, God! I didn’t mean the slut part.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I am so making this worse.”

  I sighed as I sat my bag on my chair and weighed my options. Bethany said she had access to the unreleased pictures—the ones I was terrified existed. But now that she’d confirmed they did indeed exist, no amount of wishful thinking would keep them out of the public eye forever.

  I took a deep breath and met Nessa’s eyes then Jenna’s. They may seem nice now, but they’d turn tail and run as soon as those pictures got out. And why wouldn’t they? Being near me meant being tainted by my party-girl brush.

  “I’ve never made a habit of sleeping around. I’m not much of a partier, never was. I mean, I like to have fun. I just,” I shrugged, thinking about how to phrase this next part without seeming bitchy or self-absorbed. “I thought Steve liked me.” I huffed and tipped my head back. “But he just wanted me to ride Asher’s coattails to fame. I knew he was embarrassed when I didn’t invite Asher to his concert. He’d told everyone Asher would be there.” I swallowed. “Then the pictures came out.”

  I waited, not looking at any of them. I startled when an arm fell over my shoulder.

  “Man, that’s . . . He was your boyfriend?” Nessa asked.

  “Not really. We hadn’t gone out long enough for him to be my boyfriend.”

  There was more I wanted to say, but I was too scared. I picked at my cuticle again, sighing when I drew blood. Jenna handed me a tissue.

  “So you think he posted the pics to get even?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t know. I left as soon as I could. We didn’t talk again.”

  “But Bethany said something about more pictures,” Nessa said. “We heard her.”

  “Why didn’t you report him?” Jenna asked. “I mean, you didn't want your picture taken.”

  “I don’t really have any way to get him in trouble for taking the pictures,” I said, trying to walk a difficult line of being truthful and still protecting myself from their defection. Or, worse, betrayal. “It’s more if I could prove something illegal happened.”

  “That’s horse shit,” Nessa growled.

  I was surprised by how angry she looked.

  “He’s slut shaming you. To get even for you not doing what he wanted.”

  “Oh, it’s worse than that.” I swallowed down the rest of the truth. Soon. I’d know for sure soon. Silence built. I pulled at another of my cuticles, wishing I still bit my nails.

  “So here’s the deal: We like concerts and would love to meet your stepdad and uncles. But we’re going to be your friends even if you don’t introduce us,” Jenna said. “And, yes, of course, we’d be happy to come with you to Oregon.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides and stared at her, mouth agape. “You—you don’t have to do that.” I didn’t want her to do that. Did I?

  “You don’t understand. Telling Bethany off was the best thing to happen all year. I’ve hated that girl since she tried to sleep with Dane again—the night after our first date, I’ll add—last year,” Nessa said. “He swears up and down she climbed in his bedroom window.”

  Yet another reason to steer clear of Clay, then. I couldn’t deal w
ith another jealousy-crazed person in my life.

  “Wait. Don’t they have a concert tonight?” Jenna asked.

  Nessa bit her lip, clearly torn. “I told Dane I’d be there, but this is important, too. I mean, I want us to hang out, Abbi.”

  Jenna snapped her fingers. “I’ll go with Abracadabra here and you can still have your nasty night with Daney-boy. Win-win, losers.”

  I tucked in my bottom lip, not sure if I should laugh or call the local substance abuse center. Nessa raised her eyebrows and shrugged, letting me know this was fairly normal. At least for Jenna.

  Oblivious to my wordless communication with her friend, Jenna continued, “It must suck to have your whole life scrutinized like that. I mean, everyone has a right to go out and have fun without worrying about their activities flashing all over social media. I never realized how great it was to have a bank manager for a mom before.”

  I swallowed down the lump of tears gathering in my throat. I wanted to tell them I hadn’t been drinking that night. But that walked a dangerously thin line where I had to admit to the rest of the story.

  “It’s why Clay and I won’t be more than friends. I hate the spotlight. And, really, I get it if you don’t want to hang out with me either.”

  Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Not a good reason to give up Clay Rippey, but I see your point.” She tipped her head, then shook it, causing the blond hair to shimmer in the dim light of my room. “No, I don’t. Abbi, he’s a great guy. And being friends with you isn’t going to be that much different than being friends with the guys. I mean, we’re already well-known on campus because we hang out with them so often.” She shrugged.

  “But you'll get lumped in with my wild-girl lifestyle," I said.

  Nessa spread her hands. "I can see all the super wild here. Now, stop worrying. The boys can use some new interest. I mean, they’re in a band. They like the attention the media gives them.”

  “Now, since you’re the reason Bethany showed up this morning, you’re buying breakfast after our run,” Nessa said with a smile. “And Jenna here can pack away some food. So expect a really large bill. Consider it our initiation to our gang.”

  The trip to Portland was entertaining thanks to Jenna’s antics. She kept fast-forwarding songs so she could just sing the chorus.

  “It’s the best part. You know you wanna do it all the time.”

  I chuckled.

  “What’s your favorite song?” she asked.

  My mom’s was Asher’s “Sweet Solace.” Asher’s was “Moonshine Eyes,” which he’d written for my mother nearly twenty years ago. Hayden’s and Briar’s was “Between Breaths,” the song he’d written for her about their meeting in Seattle last year.

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Why not? Everyone has a favorite song. Mine’s ‘The Monster’ by Eminem.”

  “Not one of Clay’s band’s songs? They’re called Lummi Nation, right?” I’d Googled him last night and spent too long drooling over his beautiful face.

  She shook her head as she fiddled with her phone. “No. Kai sings about how fleeting love is.” She shot me a look I didn’t know how to interpret. “But that could be Clay’s influence. He’s almost a monk. Weird for a popular, talented twenty-two-year-old.”

  Not touching that one. Not going near it. “Why Eminem then? Doesn’t he do the same thing?”

  Jenna scrunched her nose. “Yeah. But I really connected with the second verse. Plus, Rihanna can belt out a song.”

  We were quiet for the duration of the next couple of songs. “So why do we care about driving all the way to Portland again?” Jenna asked, not bothering to cover her huge yawn.

  “Because Sally—the girl I’m going to meet—said she had information about the pictures at Marin Tech.”

  “And she would know this how?”

  I gripped the wheel tighter. “I don’t know.”

  “So we hate this girl who has information about the slime ball who took pictures of you. The enemy of our enemy. Totally Old Testament. Got it.”

  I worried the skin on my thumb as I puzzled out Jenna’s logic. “Yeah, kinda. And I don’t hate Sally,” I said with a sigh. “She was my friend—my best friend starting in third grade.”

  “Betrayal’s a bitch. I know. I’ve practiced it.”

  I glanced over, my eyes wide.

  Jenna waved me off. “With my high school boyfriend. He thinks I cheated on him. Which would never happen, but he never bothered to listen so . . . that’s a no-go zone.” She slid down in her seat, frowning. Well, there was a story there. “Tell me more about this Sally chick. I need to be prepared.”

  I slid my damp hands along the top of the steering wheel. “I haven’t talked to her in over a year. She started texting and calling, even emailing me, a few months ago. A couple weeks after the pictures hit. Said she needed to talk to me.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe she’s realized being your friend is better for her social standing. I mean, I got donuts out of the deal.” Jenna patted her stomach.

  The laugh caught me by surprise as much as it did Jenna. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “You already said that, like sixty times. I’m gonna nap. Running makes me tired. Actually, that’s not true. Being around people makes me tired. It’s not personal, Abbi. ’Kay?”

  With that, Jenna rolled her head toward the window. Within five minutes, a soft, snuffling snore filled the small space. I clicked the music back on, trying to ignore the building tension forming in my shoulders.

  An hour later, Jenna stretched with a groan. “I need a soda.”

  I put on my blinker and eased my car off the next exit before pulling into the lot of a convenience store. I parked and we both hopped out, taking the opportunity to go to the bathroom then buying the largest caffeinated beverage in the store. Jenna also bought a whole plastic bag of junk food to tide her over until lunch, which was in another hour and a half.

  “Want me to drive?” she asked around a mouthful of cookies.

  “I’m good. But I’d love for you to talk to me.”

  “Anything in particular?”

  I shook my head.

  “That’s a lot of pressure,” Jenna sighed. “I’m nowhere near as interesting as Nessa. Or as good in new social situations. Um . . .” She dragged out the sound. “So some more history on our target might be good.”

  “Sally’s at Lewis & Clark.” I took a long sip of my chai. “A freshman. I should’ve been one, too, but I had enough credits to graduate a semester early.”

  “So you’re a super nerd?” Jenna asked. “That’s awesome.”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. “Yeah, I guess so. But my friends from high school would point to my track trophies or my cheerleading days.”

  “You were a cheerleader?” Jenna giggled. “That’s so messed up when I think about you now. You’re studious. Just waiting to slide on a pair of wire-rim frames. I bet you’ll look perky, all bespectacled.”

  “Well, I needed to refocus on what was important—what I could control.”

  Jenna shook her head as she stared out the window, her open package of cookies forgotten. “Because of what Steve did to you? I mean, I know social shaming is kinda the rage, but this isn’t for entertainment. You never found out why?”

  “No.”

  “He really hurt you,” Jenna said, her voice soft.

  “He really did.”

  “I get that,” she muttered.

  We sat in silence until I put on my blinker to take the 308. I followed my GPS to a green-roofed house on NE 25th Street. The concrete walk was pitted and cracked, but the house itself had freshly painted beige siding and the flower beds were full of tulips.

  “Let’s do this,” Jenna muttered, her mouth set in a firm line as she shoved opened the door.

  She sucked in a huge gulp of air as we headed to the door. She seemed nervous, but that was odd. I was the one putting myself out there, admitting just how bad the situation with Steve had gotten.

 
“You know, you’re prettier in person.” The voice was feminine, soft—kind. A middle-aged woman with dark hair streaked with gray stepped forward. Her brown eyes were serious behind chunky red frames. She was dressed casually but had that bearing of someone used to commanding a large group.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know you.”

  “I’m Jean Menson. Sally’s aunt.”

  “Oh. Hi. I’m Abbi Dorsey and this is my friend, Jenna.”

  She smiled. Jenna shuffled from one foot to another, ending up behind me.

  “I know who you are, dear. I’ve kept a close eye on that story as it came out. I know your mom through my sister. Sally’s mom.” She glanced away. “I hope it’s okay that I had Sally contact you. She needs to talk to you. For both your sakes.”

  A moment later Sally stepped onto the porch. She didn’t look much like she had all our lives. She was thinner and her hair was whacked off in some short pseudo pixie cut. But the weirdest part was her dropped gaze.

  “Hi, Abbi.” Her voice was the same but her brown eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “I’m glad you came. I thought it would be better to meet here rather than on campus. Do you want to come in and sit?”

  I shook my head. Jenna crossed her arms and leaned closer. Like she was my bodyguard. Sally glanced at her aunt, who nodded before stepping up onto the porch. The front door shut behind her with a soft click.

  “Fair enough. First, I need to tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you.” Her eyes filled with tears and her chin quivered. She met my eyes briefly before glancing away again. “I was so jealous of your new life. I quit seeing you as my friend.”

  The pain was still there, but this was a fresh slice, deep in my chest. “I know. I lived it, too.”

  “I was wrong. Um, maybe you want to know what I found out?” Sally thrust a folder at me. It was filled with loose pages.

  “There was a chat room. It was all about hating you.” Sally swallowed hard. “It . . . I started it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The idea that my once–best friend could do that hurt so much.

  “I met Steve there. Online. After you broke up with him.”