Smash It!

by Francina Simone

  I want to make up for all the hours we’ve spent together being apart.

  “My mom’s gone to work,” I say.

  “Mine, too.” His mom’s back, but his dad’s moved to an apartment on a month-to-month basis to see if they can work things out or if he should extend his lease. Even though his dad moved out, they’re doing better. Eli’s not as mad anymore, he’s just trying to understand how their family went from perfect to broken—but he’s finding it easier to swallow the broken pieces these days.

  Sometimes people fall out of love, and sometimes they need the space to figure out what love is. Sometimes they just make stupid mistakes.

  “The phone is hot and my face is on fire.” I’ve got it plugged in to charge for the second time now.

  His voice is low and quiet. “Can I come over?”

  “I’m going to shower first. I still have on last night’s stage makeup.” I’m up, grabbing some pajamas, and I take him into the bathroom with me and start the shower.

  “Oh. Okay. We’re doing this.”

  “It’s not like you can see me.” I’m already in the shower and washing my face.

  “That’s not exactly a positive.”

  I’m glad he can’t see me grinning like a fool.

  Thirty minutes later, he’s in my room instead of on my phone, and we are the two most awkward people in the world. We’ve always been the most honest on the phone, and even though we could see each other through the window, it’s not the same as him standing in front of me.

  “Hi.” This is the third time I’ve said it.

  When Eli smiles, it’s always lopsided and, because his lips are full, extremely sexy. He reaches for my hand and we press our palms together. His fingers are long and the tips curl over mine slightly. We’re standing so close that his chest is touching mine, and his eyes go down to my lips and I’m tilting my head to meet his.

  Kissing Eli is like breathing for the first time. I feel his love. It feels more powerful than the lust cloud. It’s shaking me to my core, and it leaves me gasping.

  My hands are on his waist and his are on my face and with each kiss we’re exchanging something. He’s giving me love, and I’m giving it back.

  We end up on the bed kissing. I didn’t know what to expect, but soon we’re both fighting sleep for one more kiss, until I’m waking up, trying to turn off my phone alarm. Eli’s arms are still wrapped around me, and my legs are intertwined with his.

  “Eli.”

  He squeezes me. “I’m awake.” His eyes are still closed, but he’s smiling. “Just ten more minutes.”

  I know exactly what he means. I’m not ready to let go either. I nuzzle back into him. I want to be with him. Not casually—for as long as this thing can last. “I’m a swan.” The words are already out of my mouth before I realize it doesn’t sound exactly the same as it did in my head.

  Eli pats my head gently. “Yes. You can be whatever you want. You’re a weird but beautiful swan.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He laughs. “I know. You’re talking about the Al thing.” I suddenly remember I told Eli about the swans over the summer, because he always wanted to know what nuggets of truth Al had to offer. “Be mine.”

  I’ve got the biggest flock or flurry or wing cluster—whatever you call a bunch of butterflies—in my stomach, fluttering so hard that I can’t contain myself. “If you’ll be mine.”

  I don’t think I can get any closer to Eli, but he manages to pull me in tighter. “For as long as you’ll have me. And I hope that’s a really, really long time.”

  Chapter 36

  The second performance is as good as opening night, and in some ways it’s even better. Jackie nails her song every time, but this time I feel it in my soul, and I don’t think anyone escapes the magic she’s got.

  The main cast has Sunday off from performing, so I’m working the ticket office with Eli. And since no one comes to buy tickets in the middle of the play, instead of going backstage, we stay in the booth and make out.

  We’re really trying to make up for lost time, because what started out as playful kisses turns into his hand creeping up my skirt and some soft-core groping.

  When we are backstage helping clean up, he’s already taken off his white button-down shirt so it doesn’t get dingy while he and other guys move the set pieces.

  The lust cloud is definitely hovering.

  Lennox lifts herself onto the stage from the ground and lies down. “I’m exhausted. I’ve never been this excited for a Monday.” We’ve got two days off completely, and then the understudies perform another day. I don’t get to taste the stage again until Thursday, but I am so ready.

  “You’re staring,” Lennox says. She looks between Eli and me, and a smile creeps over her face. “And so is he.”

  “We might be a thing.”

  Eli’s got a piece of paper between his teeth, and I swear it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I am love-struck—this is what that means. He could be chasing chickens or drooling in his sleep, and I think I’d find a way to see the sexy side of it.

  “And all is right in the world,” Lennox shouts to the rafters. I don’t even care that she’s embarrassing.

  It’s crazy. It’s amazing. Eli said his life didn’t really start until I moved in next door, and when I think about it, neither did mine.

  “It really is about damn time, but you guys are grossing me out—me.”

  I finally tear my eyes away from Eli. “Don’t be a Grinch.”

  “It’s not Christmas.”

  “It is for me.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and Lennox cackles.

  “See, you’re a swan. You’re glowing and everything.” We get up to sweep the rows in the front of the house. No matter where I am, Eli’s eyes find me and mine find him. We’re like magnets, and maybe this is nauseating for everyone who isn’t us, but for me it’s absolutely crazy amazing.

  “Liv.” Dré’s jogging down the aisle toward me. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest.”

  I still have this goofy smile on my face, but it drops a little.

  “Did you know about my mom and Yosef?”

  Oh, God. I can’t lie, but this is not the kind of truth I want to tell either. I just nod. “I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure until Eli told me. Apparently, nothing physical happened, but you know—it was getting heavy.”

  Dré doesn’t look mad, but he doesn’t look happy either—who would be? “Whatever,” he finally says, shrugging. “There isn’t anything I can do about it, and it’s over, apparently—fuck.” He shivers a little. “Anyway...” He nods at Eli. “Y’all a thing now?”

  As much as I don’t want this to feel awkward, it does. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Because I’m not blind, and you two have always been painfully obvious.” He rocks back on his heels. “It’s cool. You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m cool.”

  I’m trying to stop blinking and smile like a normal person, but this is fucking weird. No one tells you that life is messy—I mean, everyone says it, but I never thought it would apply to me. “Thanks—I’m glad you were my first. I’ll always be happy about that.” I say it because I don’t know how the three of us are going to fit together again—I don’t think we do. This is so, so weird. And I think I just made it weirder.

  “Jesus, Liv.” He’s smiling anyway. “Me, too. We’re still friends—you and me. It’s okay.” He looks at Eli again, but he doesn’t say anything about Eli and him. “Just be normal. I don’t want to look in the back of the props closet and see you dry humping him.”

  “Oh my god.” I go back to sweeping. “I promise. Jesus Christ...” We’re laughing, and I see a glimmer of the future. It’s not like how it was—it’s something far from it. “What about you and Eli?” They aren’t like they used to
be, and I know it’s my fault—or maybe it was never going to last, the three of us.

  Dré lifts an eyebrow and gives me a long look. “Don’t worry about it, Liv. We’ve been looking for an excuse to call it quits since before the Battle of the Bands BS.”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” I know I sound stupid. I know what I’m saying is empty and useless, but I say it anyway, because how the hell am I going to navigate this?

  Dré taps my nose. “It’ll be okay. Nothing changes between you and me. I promise.”

  Every time Dré says it’s okay, I wonder if he’s trying to convince me or himself, but we have the rest of the year and senior year to figure it out.

  Either way, this isn’t how we fall apart. Different isn’t always bad. It’s just different.

  Chapter 37

  Love is hard...and it’s easy.

  Love is one word, but it means a thousand different things. Love is when I can’t breathe because Jackie has me bent over laughing so hard that I’m crying. Or when Lennox braids my hair. It’s my mom showing me she sees me in the way only she can. It’s my sister’s key lime pie. It’s what Dré and I did.

  It’s what Eli and I are.

  I laugh whenever Jackie says her nightly love affirmations, but honestly, who wouldn’t—she’s just not normal. But I’m doing them, too. With love is how I should have started the Year of Fuck It. Loving myself has been the hardest of all. Love would have stopped me from doing a lot of shitty things. But as Al says, the ability to make good decisions comes from a string of fuckups. Plus, I still have eight more months to get this Fuck It thing right.

  There are still times when I meet Dré’s eyes, and I know love is hard. The elastic band between us that I thought snapped is still there, and whether he knows it or not, I feel a light tug whenever I catch him staring. It’s going to take a while to figure out how to be us again. This is the hard part, but nothing worth having is easy.

  It’s hours before our last performance. We’re all onstage dancing like idiots—legit idiots. I’m dancing to a chipmunk song like an ’80s go-go dancer. If anyone had told me months ago that I’d be whipping my head around, speed jogging like I’m wearing a leotard and neon headband to a bunch of squeaky voices, I’d have called them a liar and slapped them twice.

  But here I am. We’re all laughing, even Mrs. G, who says I’m disrespecting her era. Eli joins me and runs the gamut of his three really weird dance moves. I don’t care that Jackie and Lennox are howling and crying. I think he’s sexy.

  There’s nothing that can bring down the mood tonight. We’re all ready to close out the show on a high note, even though it’s also kind of sad. It’s the last time it will be just us—this exact same group of people.

  I’m looking around, panting and smiling. It took a lot for all of us to get here. We’ve fought, we’ve laughed, we’ve cried. This musical isn’t a gazillion TV shows on Thursday night, but hot damn, it’s the start of something real special. I think Shonda Rhimes would approve. I like to think so—I’ve even got my own dance-it-out going.

  She’d definitely approve.

  I sneak backstage with Eli. As soon as we hit a dark corner, we’re kissing. Eli’s touch leaves behind this tingling sensation. He’s committing another crime against humanity with those hands.

  Through all the ups and downs, we came out on top.

  In this theatre, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that Shakespeare doesn’t know a damn thing about love. All he knows are the lows—and I’m pretty sure he thinks love sucks, because people always end up dead or completely delusional. Or maybe I’m being too hard on the guy who’s just trying to write an entertaining tragedy.

  I thought my life was playing out like some twisted version of Othello. I was my own Iago—his name is eerily similar to the word ego, and I let mine get the best of me sometimes. I thought I was simultaneously the innocent and selflessly devoted Desdemona; the jilted, life-hardened Emilia; and the needy and misunderstood Bianca. But I wasn’t any of them and I was all of them at once. I’m a girl, but I’m sure as hell not one of Shakespeare’s ill-fated girls.

  I’ve always thought love stories were about two people coming together—but my love story isn’t tragic, and it’s not about a boy. It’s about me loving me.

  It’s showtime.

  I get it—the play is a drama, and it is hella entertaining. Shakespeare had one job, and it wasn’t an obligation to present a truthful version of a woman or a decent representation of a Moor. His job was to fill seats. And he’s still filling them.

  In the wings, I can already feel what it’s like when the light hits my face, and I’m full of the high I get every time all eyes are on me.

  Shakespeare wrote this play. I’m having this moment because of his work. I was able to become who I am by taking a chance and auditioning for a part he wrote centuries ago. That’s some scary kind of inception shit. But some old white dude isn’t writing the script of my life.

  Fuck that. I am.

  I step out onstage.

  * * *

  Acknowledgments

  To all the boys I’ve loved before, but most notably, Juan. You continue to teach me how to love and be loved. You’re my rock, my diamond in the sky, my swan. I won’t turn this into a love letter but, from thirteen to thirty, you’ve been helping me write this story. I love you so wholly and completely it’s insane.

  To the New Leaf team, I shout it all the time but now it shall be in ink: Y’ALL ARE PHENOMENAL. I am grateful to be part of the New Leaf family! All of you have worked so hard for me and provided so many opportunities for Liv and the gang!

  Most especially to my agent, Devin. Metal and Magic brought me to you and Smash It! sealed the deal. It’s rare to find someone who believes in you as undoubtedly as you believe in me. That unexplainable thing—it’s totally happening. This is happening.

  To Suzie, you’re brilliant and you’ve made me a better author.

  The Inkyard fam, y’all are beast and I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done. I know half of the work is writing the book and the other half is finding a tribe who supports it. Toast to my tribe! Most especially to my lovely editor, Tashya. You brought out the best in me. I was blessed enough to connect with you before Smash It! was even in my mind and twice blessed that Smash It! found a place in your heart.

  My girls, Mckayla and Elena. Mckayla, you read the first draft and you knew then what it was and I swear, if this world goes to hell, you’re my lighthouse on a dark and stormy ocean. Elena, you’re my Jackie and Lennox and honestly, I LIVE for our chisme and for your light. We gon’ get that bag, girl!

  Paul, I borrowed some stuff. And embellished what I took. I hope you don’t mind. If I could go back and tell sixteen-year-old me how lucky she is to have you, she would already know—but because she was chickenshit she wouldn’t admit it until much later. Thanks for always being my best friend.

  To Jimmi for letting me dig into his private life more than any friend should. Also, for being the kind of guy who reenacted The Matrix trilogy with me in the rain instead of working like we were supposed to—RadioShack is probably out of business because of us.

  To Jodi, Amara, Sasha, and Laura. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys to talk to. Writing is lonely; everyone needs friends like you.

  To my beta readers, you taught me a lot about this book, what it meant, how it affected you, and what it could be.

  Amanda, every girl needs that one friend who sees her and will fight for her. Though there has been a lot of time between us and we have babies now, you are my ride or die, forever.

  To my whole YouTube family and online book community. Y’all gave me the courage to use the voice that’s always been inside of me. I’ve got so much love for our little piece of the internet and it’s because of each and every one of you.

  And most gratefully to
you, dear reader. It’s because of you that Liv can shine. Whatever you’re trying to do, from me to you, you got this. So, go out and SMASH IT!

  ISBN-13: 9781488069390

  Smash It!

  Copyright © 2020 by Francina Simone

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.

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