by Amber Garza
Ryker gives me a sad wave, and turns away. As I pull away from the curb I see him walking back to the garage with sagging shoulders. Feeling eyes on me, I gaze into the garage and see Beckett staring directly into my eyes. I shiver from the intensity of his gaze. The look he gives me causes my heart to arrest. He looks like he's sad to see me go, but I know that's not possible. He's the one who practically threw me out. Facing forward, I force myself to just forget about the whole thing. Sure Beckett is hot, but he's a total jerk. Nothing is ever going to happen between us. In fact, I hope I never even see him again. Angry, I press harder on the gas and tear down the street. I'm grateful that I don't have to drive far before the campus comes into view.
I turn the corner and head toward the parking lot, anger still simmering through my veins. After parking in my usual spot, I turn off the car and bolt out into the cold night. I fling my purse over my shoulder and hug myself as I run toward the dorms, my heels clicking on the pavement.
When I step inside my dorm room I find Lola sitting cross legged on her bed, an open notebook in her lap. She's bent over it scrawling in it with a black pen. Her head jerks up when I slam the door closed. She pushes her hair out of her face, and smiles. "So, are you officially a member of Beckett?"
I shake my head, too mad to speak. Flinging my purse on my bed, I slump down onto it as well. The mattress slumps beneath my weight.
"What happened?" Lola slides the notebook off her lap and sits forward, allowing her legs to dangle off the side of the bed. She's wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt but she still looks stylish somehow.
I groan in frustration, running a hand over my face. "Beckett happened."
"Uh-oh." Lola purses her shiny red lips. "Was sexy rocker boy scared you're gonna steal his spotlight?"
"What?" I crease my forehead in confusion.
"Oh, come on. I saw the guy. He thinks he's God's gift to music. I'm sure once he heard how super talented you are he got scared. He doesn't need his backup singer to upstage him."
As sweet as Lola's words are, they don't ring true. "No, trust me, he didn't seem very impressed with me."
"I'm still going with my theory."
"That's why I love you so much." I smile. "You should have seen how rude he was. How can someone that hot outside be so ugly on the inside?"
"Seriously?" Lola's dark eyes bug out. "When it comes to guys, it's the hot ones I'm wary of. They're usually the biggest jerks."
"Yeah, I guess." I sigh, scooting back on my bed and pulling my bent legs up closer to my body. "I was just hoping Beckett would be different. Besides, it was kind of fun tonight when we sang together. It would have been nice to make it a regular thing."
"What about Ryker?" Lola asks.
"What about him?"
She shrugs. "Well, I mean, he's cute, and he seemed really nice."
Noticing the slight flush of her cheeks, I cock an eyebrow. "Lola, are you crushing on Ryker?"
"That depends." She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"On what?"
"On how you feel about him?"
I swat away her words. "No, go for him. I'm not attracted to Ryker. I mean, he seems like a nice guy, but he's not really my type."
"Not like Beckett, huh?"
My chest tightens when she says his name. I remember how sexy he looked when he sang, and it turns my stomach. "I'm not into Beckett either." When I catch Lola raising her eyebrows at me I add, "At least, not anymore."
"If you say so." Lola flashes me a wicked grin.
"I’m not." I stand up, feeling defensive. "He was arrogant and rude tonight. If I ever see him again it'll be too soon."
"Okay, I believe you." Lola throws up her palms. "But you can't let him stop you from pursuing your music. There's got to be another band you can join."
I roll my eyes, heading toward my dresser. "That's my Lola. Always meddling." I yank open the top drawer and snatch out my fuzzy pajama top and pants.
"I'm serious."
"I didn't even really want to join a band." I whirl around, clutching the clothes to my chest.
"But you just said that it was fun."
I lean my back against the dresser. "It was." My mind flies back to those few blissful moments when Beckett and I were singing together. It was a rush, and the truth is, I'd give anything to experience it again.
"Then what's the issue? You're a musician, aren't you?"
I nod, biting my lip. "Yeah. I guess if it's meant to be it'll happen at some point." My stomach sinks when I'm reminded that it won't be with Beckett. I'm not sure I want to be in any other band. Even though I can't stand Beckett, he is super talented, and it would have been amazing to be part of his band. I try not to let disappointment overwhelm me at the thought. In fact, I try not to think about tonight at all. The whole thing is too depressing and humiliating to relive, even in my mind.
2
Beckett
The girl looks nothing like I expected. When Ryker described her to me I pictured some edgy rocker chick, not some fresh faced girl next door. She wears jeans and sandals, her brown hair sleek down her back. Her skin is soft and smooth with almost no makeup covering it. She smiles up at me with glossy lips, her caramel colored eyes piercing mine. There is so much trust and openness in them that I glance away, unnerved.
When she tells me her name is Star, I can’t help myself. I have to give her shit about it. From Ryker’s expression I can tell that he doesn’t appreciate it, but I don’t care. Obviously he’s into her, but that’s not my problem. Besides, I’m used to Ryker being irritated with me. What I’m not prepared for is Star’s reaction. When she lights into me about her name, I wonder if I’ve misjudged her. Clearly she’s got some fire underneath that sweet exterior.
I decide that the least I can do is give her a shot. Even though I’m pissed at Ryker for springing her on me like this, I shouldn’t take it out on her. So, I let her sing for us. I lean back against the wall with my arms across my chest as she sits at the keyboard. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders and her lips purse as her fingertips skim over the keys. When she opens her mouth to sing, I’m surprised with the richness of her tone. As she continues on with the sickeningly sweet song, I figure out why she makes me so uncomfortable. The realization smacks me hard in the gut, and I worry I might throw up. The familiarity of this girl is almost too much. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. A thousand unwanted memories assault me and I struggle under the weight of them. As she finishes the song I will the thoughts away, and force myself to calm down.
The minute Star ends the song Ryker peers over at me with that “I told you so” look I hate so much. "See, didn't I tell you she was amazing, Beckett?"
"Yeah, she's not bad," I shoot back. But when I glance back at Star, I see her face fall and then I feel guilty. The comment was more for Ryker’s benefit. Even though I want nothing more than to get rid of this girl who bears a haunting resemblance to my past, I don’t want to be rude. So with a sigh, I grab a piece of sheet music and walk toward Star. "Now let's see how well you harmonize."
She takes the paper from my fingers, her gaze lingering on my face for a minute. I can see what Ryker sees in her. Her beauty is so natural and pure, very unlike the girls we meet at our shows, which is just another reason I can’t let her join the band. This life will eat her alive.
I glance around the room. "You guys stay out for this. This is just going to be me and Star." As I walk back to my guitar, I try not to notice the slight flush of Star’s cheeks or the way her eyes light up at my words.
I strum my guitar and start to sing. When I get to the chorus, I can hear Star’s voice mingle with mine.
You’re just one more thing I can’t have
Standing just outside my grasp
But it doesn’t really matter
Because good things never last
Our voices blend perfectly, weaving in and out of each other like we were meant to sing together. I shift uncomfortably, pulling the strap
of my guitar away from my neck. I feel like I’m being strangled. I just can’t do this. There’s no way this girl can join our band.
"I'm sorry," I say to her. "I'm just not sure if this is gonna work out. But thanks for stopping by." Then I turn away so I don’t have to see the disappointed look in her eyes. After she races out of the garage, Ryker turns to me with a glare.
“What?” I dare Ryker to tell me what he’s thinking.
But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just shakes his head and takes off after the girl. Man, he really must want to get in that chick’s pants. The other guys share a disgusted look, causing me to grunt and turn away. It’s not like I meant to hurt the girl’s feelings. The whole thing was Ryker’s fault. He had to know how this would end when he brought her here. I glance up to see Star jump into her vehicle and turn on the engine. As she pulls away from the curb, her gaze locks with mine. Her face brings back another unwelcome recollection, and a wave of emotion crashes over me. As she drives away, I know I did the right thing. I may not have been able to save the girl who meant everything to me once upon a time, but at least I can save this one. Maybe this is some sort of redemption.
As Ryker stalks back into the garage, I think about what a silly thought that is. Redemption isn’t real. We don’t get to right our wrongs that way. If only things were that simple.
“What’s with you, man?” Ryker towers over me, his eyes dark. “She was amazing, and you totally shot her down. Is your ego really that fragile?”
Anger sparks. “This has nothing to do with my ego and you know it.” I take a step forward practically bumping Ryker with my chest.
“Okay, calm down you guys,” Our electric guitar player Pierce says, moving away from his instrument. Both he and our drummer Jimmy head in our direction.
I back off, nodding to them. “Everything’s fine.” You’d think Jimmy and Pierce would be used to Ryker and me getting into arguments. Ryker is like a brother to me. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and we fight just like siblings.
“Is it because she’s not the kind of girl you’re into?”
“You know that’s not why, Ryker.” I cock my head to the side, irritated that he’s making me say it. “You don’t think Star resembles someone else? Someone close to me?”
Ryker furrows his brows in a look of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
I open my mouth ready to the say the name when Ryker’s eyes spring open in understanding.
“She doesn’t look exactly like her,” he says, using an apologetic tone. “There’s just a slight resemblance.”
“Slight resemblance?”
“Yeah, they both have brown hair and eyes, but that’s about it.”
“That’s not it, Ryker. She’s just like Quinn.” I can hear the slight intake of breath on Ryker’s part, and I know he’s surprised when I say her name. I don’t mention her that often. Only when it’s necessary. “And that’s why she’s not joining our band.”
“That’s what this is about? C’mon, man, she’s not Quinn. She’s not going to make the same mistakes as her.”
“You don’t know that.” I run my hand through my hair and release a rush of air through gritted teeth. “She was innocent just like her. You might be okay with tainting her, but I’m not.”
“We’re not tainting anyone. We’re just playing music.” Ryker laughs bitterly. “Dude, we’re the tamest band around. And you saw her, man. She’s talented. If we don’t pick her up another band will. And I bet they’ll mess her up a lot worse than we will.”
I mull over his words.
“What if she’s picked up by Cold Fever?”
Pierce and Jimmy freeze. My insides coil into knots. I narrow my eyes at Ryker. “You really want her in the band, don’t you?”
He nods.
“You must if you brought up those losers.” I swallow hard. “Fine. She can join, but she’s your responsibility. If anything goes wrong, it’s on your head.”
Ryker smiles like he just won the stinking lottery. I turn around and prepare to clean up my stuff. My stomach churns, and I wonder if my decision just sealed yet another person’s fate.
3
Star
I walk with clipped strides through the campus, my backpack thumping against my shoulder blades. The heavy books inside jostle around, and their sharp edges jab me every once in awhile. It's Monday morning and I'm so not looking forward to the hours of lectures ahead of me. As I round a corner, I bump shoulders with a boy racing past. Without bothering to look up, I adjust the strap of my backpack.
"Star?" a familiar voice says.
I peer up at him. "Hey, Ryker."
"I'm glad I ran into you," he says, and then adds with a laugh, " literally."
I smile, just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Even though I know it'll be a text from Lola, I still snatch it out and glance down to see what it says.
Maid report: Bed made.
I glance up at Ryker and give him an apologetic face. "Just give me a minute." Then I quickly text back. Sorry. I thought I did better. At least I picked up my clothes from the floor.
True. Her response comes almost immediately, and then I push my phone back into my pocket. Lola is a complete neat freak, and I'm kind of a slob. When we first moved in together I feared that it would become a problem for us. Instead, Lola has turned it into a daily joke of maid reports in the form of texts. At least I think it's a joke. I choose to look at them that way, but in truth they have caused me to make more of an effort. However, even with all the effort in the world I will never be as organized as Lola. My creative brain just doesn't work that way.
"I wanted to apologize again for last night," Ryker says.
"It's fine, really. You don't have to keep saying you're sorry. Sometimes these things just don't work out."
"But that's just it. I think it will work out."
I freeze, not wanting him to continue. The last thing I need is false hope about this whole band thing. Why can't Ryker just let it go? I'm never going to humiliate myself like that again. "I think Beckett made it pretty clear that it won't. But thanks anyway." I walk around him.
"Wait." Ryker stops me. "We talked about it after you left last night and we all agreed that you'd make a great addition.
I shake my head. "That's very sweet, but I don't think so."
"C'mon. Please? Beckett feels really bad about his reaction. He honestly did think you were talented."
"Really? Well, then why didn't he say that?"
"Beckett's just complicated, but he's not that bad when you get to know him."
"Well I'm not interested in getting to know him. I think I found out enough last night," I say. "I'm sorry, but I can't put myself through that again. Now if you'll excuse me, I really have to get to class." Without another word, I walk briskly away from Ryker. But no matter how fast I walk, I can't get his words out of my head. Is it true that Beckett did feel bad about his behavior? Did he really think I was talented? As swiftly as the questions enter my mind, I remember the bored look on Beckett's face and the way he dismissed me without any guilt. What is it about him that gets under my skin so bad? I know that the smart thing for me to do right now is just to forget about Beckett and his band; just forget about the whole thing.
“That was super good.” Lola links arms with me as we exit the pub we just had dinner in. The cool air circles us as we step outside, and my loose shirt billows around my body. I shiver, goosebumps rising on my flesh. My heels click on the pavement as we walk.
“I know. Fried food is my nemesis.” My stomach hurts from the exorbitant amount of fish and chips I just ate.
The dark night sky swallows us, with only the dim light of the streetlamps to direct us to our car. A few vehicles pass by, their tires rumbling on the asphalt. Lola’s fruity scent lingers on the slight breeze. We pass by a little club, music spilling outside from the door that is slightly ajar. A couple stands against the window puffing on a cigarette. I bat away the plumes of smoke that
reach for me as we walk by. The drumbeat from the club resonates under my feet. When we reach the door, a male’s voice sings out, and I freeze.
“What?” Lola halts, raising her eyebrows at me.
I knit my brows together. “I think that’s Beckett.”
“So?” Lola flashes me a dumbfounded look.
Shrugging, I wriggle my arm out of Lola’s grasp move toward the door. I peek inside the club and my heart stops. Beckett is standing on a stage, his eyes closed, his mouth up to a mic and his hands strumming his guitar. Before I can register what I’m doing, I press the door open.
Lola grabs my arm. “I thought you never wanted to see him again.”
I bite my lip, knowing she’s right. The pull I feel toward Beckett isn’t healthy. I should turn around right now and get the hell out of here. Only, for some sick reason I want to stay and listen to him sing. “Just one song?”
Lola heaves a resigned sigh. “Fine.”
We push through the crowd and find a small table that is empty near the stage. I slide into one of the chairs, bumping my knees against the bottom of the round table. Lola scoots in next to me. Not until we’re seated do I notice just how close to Beckett we are. We’re practically sitting on the stage. My palms clam up at the realization. This is probably a mistake. Just when I’m about to hightail it out of here, Beckett looks up and his eyes lock with mine. The look he gives me causes my heart to stutter. It’s almost like he’s happy to see me. In fact, his lips curl upward into a grin. I suck in a breath, and he lowers his gaze. He continues to sing, and I wonder if I imagined the whole thing. When the song ends his gaze finds me again, and this time there’s no mistaking it. Our eyes meet, and he flashes me a crooked grin.
“For this next song I’d like to bring up a very special guest,” Beckett speaks in his husky voice that is so sexy I’m sure the entire room is swooning. “We sang this song together earlier in the week, and I’d like to do it again.” My stomach drops when he looks pointedly at me. “Star?”
Hearing him say my name causes a rush of chills to skitter down my spine. Lola’s mouth drops open, and I’m pretty sure my face looks just as shocked as hers. Glancing up, I catch Ryker’s eye from where he stands behind Beckett with his bass guitar in hand. He gives me a subtle nod, and I force my legs to stand. Beckett is wearing an amused grin as I make my way up to the stage. What is he up to? I feel everyone’s eyes on me as I take deliberate steps forward, and my face heats up. Once I reach Beckett, panic sweeps over me at the realization that there isn’t a keyboard on stage, or even an extra microphone.