Fake It (The Keswick Chronicles Book 1)

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Fake It (The Keswick Chronicles Book 1) Page 19

by Victoria Kinnaird


  “Thank you, Jessica,” our headmaster, Mr. Newton, said. “What a colorful speech. Jessica is just one of many talented students we have here at Wayville. I’m sure our next student doesn’t need an introduction, but I’ll give him one anyway.”

  My heart skipped a beat as a familiar blond head ducked into view.

  There was a collective gasp from the students as JJ crossed the stage, taking a seat at the polished piano. Mr. Newton wheeled the podium off to the side of the stage, waiting for JJ’s nod before he continued.

  “JJ Keswick is not only our star basketball player, he is also an accomplished musician, and he’s going to perform a song for us. JJ.”

  He was wearing a pair of skintight black jeans and a black cotton sleeveless shirt, slit up the sides to hint at the lightly tanned skin underneath. It took me a few seconds to realize he’d cut his hair, then I realized how stupid that was because it really was quite drastic. He’d shaved half his head, golden stubble clinging close to his scalp and glittering in the sun. The rest of his hair had been left long, falling dramatically into his face. Something fluttered in my stomach when he reached up to tuck his a strand behind his ear.

  “Thanks, Mr. Newton,” he murmured into the microphone.

  I could only watch, breathless, as he started to play. I recognized the song instantly—“Save Rock and Roll”—it was one of his favorites. It was so perfect for the occasion. I couldn’t have chosen a better song.

  He performed the song alone, just his voice, the piano and his conviction. I was transfixed, unable to tear my eyes away from him. It wasn’t an easy song to sing, but I was starting to realize that there was nothing he couldn’t do. He sang that song like it had been written for him, his voice cleaving perfectly to every rise and fall, hitting every note like it was nothing at all to be on stage like that, baring his soul.

  I could hear every memory of every moment we’d spent together in that song. The good times, when it had been perfect—there’d been so many. The difficult times, when I’d been confused, he’d been scared and we’d both been stupid. It was all there, caught in his voice, weaving through the melody like only I could hear him.

  For a few brief, blessed moments, it felt as if it was just the two of us. As intimate as the night we’d spent in his hotel room, or the glances we’d shared on stage, a language only we could speak. I was with him, every beat, every lyric, together.

  Then the song was over. The moment was over. There was a brief pause, as if no one really knew what to make of what had just happened, before the whole stadium burst into wild applause. He smiled softly, half hidden beneath his hair, and walked off stage without saying a word.

  I watched him go.

  I wasn’t sure where he was going, or what he was going to do with himself, but I had faith that he’d make the right choice. I’d been an idiot to stop believing in him. Sure, his lying hadn’t helped, but letting my insecurity get in the way of what we’d had had been stupid.

  He’d been so scared, and he’d overcome it, on his own. If he could get over years of that fear, then I could too.

  There was nothing we couldn’t do.

  I managed to make it across the stage to collect my diploma without tripping over my feet—major win. I cheered for Jessica, Ash and JJ until my throat hurt. I smiled in every single picture my aunt Rose insisted on taking. I threw my cap in the air, and even caught it again. A rare display of grace that I’m sure will never be repeated.

  I called Jude, cradling my cell phone between my ear and shoulder while I unceremoniously shoved tee shirts into my duffle bag. I wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail, but I did hesitate for a second.

  “Hi Jude, it’s me. So, um, I came to your house this morning, but you weren’t there. Then I saw you at graduation, and I . . . .Well, there aren’t words, really. Okay, I’m sure there are words, but I’m not clever enough to know them. I just, I wanted you to know that I’m so incredibly proud of you. Watching you perform today, it made my heart hurt. In a really good way.

  “You move me, Jude. I underestimated you, again. Don’t know when I’m going to learn my lesson, but you keep surprising me. I want you to keep surprising me.”

  The words poured out of me in a flood of sappiness. I was pretty sure the whole thing would sound terrible when he played it back, rushed and sentimental. I hoped it was enough.

  “Anyway,” I sighed. “Forever Fading Echoes is hitting the road in a couple of days. My dad got us a spot on a two-week tour. Not sure where we’re going from there. My dad’s convinced it’s gonna be hellish, but I think it’s going to be the start of something really fucking awesome. I want you to be there with us. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but my dad says there’s no place better than the open road for figuring shit out. Um, okay, I’ve run out of things to say. Call me.”

  ***

  He didn’t call.

  It hurt more than I cared to admit. I told Jess, Ash and Dylan that I’d left JJ a message, asking him to join us on the road, but they were forbidden from begging him. I’d asked, but I didn’t want anyone pressuring him into it. If Jude was going to come with us, he had to do it because he wanted to, not because he felt as if he had to.

  My dad insisted on leaving at stupid o’clock in the morning, before the sun had come up all the way. We had a bit of travelling to do before we hit our first city, which meant setting off early.

  We all helped to load up the van—our boxes of new tee shirts and CDs crammed in beside our equipment. Jess had been unable to stick to the one suitcase rule, so it was a bit cramped, but I was sure we could make it work. Despite Jude’s apparent rejection, I was in high spirits.

  I knew I was standing on the edge of everything I’d ever wanted. If JJ Keswick had taught me anything, it was that you had to take that first step. It may seem small and scary as hell, but you can’t win if you don’t play the game. This was my chance, to step up, to take that leap, insert cliché here.

  There was only one thing for it.

  “You ready to go, kid?” my dad asked, after I’d managed to release myself from Aunt Rose’s surprisingly strong grip.

  I glanced up the street—no sign of him.

  “Yeah.”

  My dad climbed up into the driver’s seat while Ash and Dylan helped Jess into the back. I hopped into the passenger’s seat, exchanging a quick smile with my dad before he started the engine.

  We’d just reached the end of the street when a familiar figure strode into view.

  His guitar case was swung over one shoulder, no doubt housing his precious Hummingbird. He was clutching a duffle bag in his right hand, and he waved with his left, smile wide and easy in the early morning sunlight.

  My dad was laughing and Jess was cheering as the van came to a stop. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears as I pushed the passenger side door open and jumped out, a couple of feet from where he was standing.

  “You got room for one more?” he asked, quirking a brow.

  I pressed my smile to his lips, echoing his relieved chuckle with one of my own. His hair brushed against my cheek, when I leaned in to kiss him properly. The rise and fall of his chest against mine was enough to tilt my world back into place. I could hear Jess wolf whistling from the back of the van, and I knew we were both in for some serious teasing later on, but it was worth it.

  Every crazy, wonderful, painful moment had been worth it.

  “Maybe,” I murmured, finally answering his question. “Who’s asking?”

  “Jude Jaden Keswick,” he replied, stormy blue eyes meeting my own.

  “Yeah,” I grinned, pulling him in for another kiss. “I think there is a bit of space up front. With me.”

  “With you,” he said, gently, words no more than a whisper against my lips. “Is exactly where I want to be.”

  “It’s about damn time!” Jessica yelled, having crawled into the passenger seat to shout at us through the window. “Let’s get this show on the road already! We’re late!�


  “For what?” Jude asked as he dumped his stuff in the back of the van.

  “The rest of our lives, idiot,” Jessica grinned.

  He rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling as he climbed into the front seat beside me. I took his hand in mine, turned up the stereo and gazed out at the open road.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I have to thank my family. My parents have put up with my obsessing over music for way longer than they’ve been putting up with my obsessions with anything else (including writing), so I am and always will be in their debt.

  My sister Nicole has stood by my side at almost every single concert I’ve ever been to, singing along with me, dancing with me and enjoying those precious, loud, blurry moments that I’ve come to treasure. She is more than a sister, more than a friend. She’s the instigator of and witness to some of my all time favorite memories. Long may it continue.

  My nana once charmed a queue of Wednesday 13 fans outside HMV so much that they asked her if she wanted to join them. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d found me to be completely weird, but she has only ever been supportive, encouraging and proud. I’m as grateful for her today as I was when I was bullied and beaten up for wearing a Nirvana hoodie to school. Thanks, Nana. You’re the best.

  To my friends in the Kill Hannah Kollective, thank you for your support, dedication, optimism, loyalty, enthusiasm and general devotion to music, art and our community.

  Jessica Rose, what can I say? Your wit, charm and humor have been a constant source of inspiration through this whole process. I hope I’ve done some justice in capturing just a tiny bit of how awesome you are.

  My ink family—Sarah, Rue, Catherine, Christine, Sarah Jayne, Jeanette and everyone who is part of the crazy adventure that is the One House team—it’s an honor and a privilege.

  My betas—thank you for your patience and your support throughout this incredibly long process. It is appreciated more than you can know!

  Last, but certainly not least: My Chemical Romance, Linkin Park, Kill Hannah, AFI, Blaqk Audio, 30 Seconds to Mars, Something Corporate/Jack’s Mannequin/Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness, Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, Nirvana, Ashestoangels, The Academy Is, A Day to Remember, letlive., Frank Iero & The Cellabration, Placebo, The Used, Bright Eyes/Conor Oberst, Dashboard Confessional, Taking Back Sunday, Finch, Glassjaw, Papa Roach, Alexisonfire, Awaken the Empire and probably a dozen other bands I’ve forgotten because it’s 1am—THANK YOU. The person I am today would not exist without the music I have loved over the past couple of decades. Every gig I’ve been to, every album I’ve loved, every music video I’ve watched on repeat—they’re all in here, somewhere, precious memories tucked amongst the fiction. Turn it up—you might find them.

  “It’s time to put the theatricality back into rock ‘n’ roll. And me? I’m nothing but drama.”

  TAKE IT

  The Keswick Chronicles Book 2

  Coming soon

 

 

 


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