“Why’d you post the video, Luke?” Logan demanded. “Why did you take it upon yourself to tank your career and ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for? I’d really love to hear all your perfectly good reasons for sabotaging not only yourself, but me and Wylder and even Bash. You destroyed us, Luke. Was it worth it?” Logan’s anger burned in his eyes, and Wylder took a step back from the furious twins.
She’d really done it now. All Wylder had wanted was to get the brother’s talking, but she worried she might have pushed them too far.
“It was supposed to be us.” Luke’s voice echoed down the silent hall, everyone staring.
“It’s always been us,” Logan said.
“Not on stage. Not on tour. It was supposed to be us, together, living our dream. I never wanted this without my brother at my side.”
“Aww.” Wylder turned and shot a glare at a couple of girls hanging out of their dorm room right behind Luke. They scampered back inside, but Wylder could still see two pairs of eyes peeking through the cracked door.
“You know I can’t handle the stage, Luke. That’s how this all started.” Logan ignored the girls, too caught up in his family drama to notice the growing crowd.
“I’m tired, Logan.” The fire went out of Luke’s voice. “It’s lonely out there all by myself. And I … just don’t want it … not like this.”
“So you threw me and Wylder to the wolves to sabotage yourself?”
“No!” Luke seemed horrified by the idea. “If that’s what you really think, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. I wanted them to see you.”
“Who?” Logan frowned.
“The world, genius. I wanted everyone to see your true talent. I’m the smoke and mirrors guy. The showman who slays on guitar, but you’re the voice, and without that, I’m just a circus act without the magic.”
“No, you’re not.” Logan’s voice had lost its edge.
“I had to share that video, Logan. You two deserve to be seen.”
“Even if I—we didn’t want to be seen.”
“I’ve witnessed your stage fright. I know how terrifying it is for you, but I didn’t see any of those issues when you were on stage with Wylder. Not then and not on the L.A. Daily Show. Do you know what I would give to have you on stage with me like that?”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to be on stage.” Logan crossed his arms in front of him, like he was trying to protect himself.
“I know, and I respect your wishes, Logan, I always have.” Luke hung his head. “I’m sorry I released the video without asking you. Honestly, I just needed … something to change. I don’t want this anymore.”
Wylder nodded. She got it. It was a cry for help. She just wasn’t sure Logan really understood that yet.
“You think you can walk away from it all, just like that?” Logan shook his head.
“If it means I get my brothers back, then nothing else matters.”
“What about the music?” Logan asked.
“Music will always be there. I don’t have to be famous to have music in my life. Trust me, fame isn’t everything.”
Wylder tiptoed around the brothers, shooing the mob of students away from Logan and Luke. “Come on, give them some privacy.” She drove the girls back into their rooms, forcing some doors closed and handing out threats if she saw any of them again tonight.
“Who else wants a piece of me?” Wylder turned around to find herself alone in the hallway. The boys must have escaped the crowd when she wasn’t looking. Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she headed back to her room and found them arguing in her common room.
“No, way.” Logan shook his head. “The hook is perfect the way it is. It’s the chorus that needs work.”
“It’s a great song. Maybe your best yet, but if you change the pace of the hook, it amps up the whole song, and the chorus will practically write itself.”
“We aren’t writing this song, Luke.” Logan pointed to himself and his twin.
“It’s not a bad suggestion.” Wylder stood at the kitchen counter, hesitant to say anything more. She still didn’t know where she stood with Logan. “A faster tempo might be just what we need to finish this for the Winter Review.”
Logan hung his head, refusing to look at her. “We aren’t writing this song either. No one is.” He grabbed Wylder’s notebook off the counter and left them.
Wylder watched him go, taking a huge chunk of her with him. “Well, that sucks.” She turned toward her kitchen cabinets.
“Give him some time.” Luke sighed, pulling himself onto the barstool in front of the counter. “My brother is the poster child for tortured artists. He’ll come around. And we’ll probably get a new song out of it for our trouble.” He picked at the corner of a boring bran cereal box Devyn had left on the counter. “Not that we’ll have anyone to listen to it.”
“We need snacks.” Wylder started pulling everything from her side of the cabinet. Cookies, chips, and chocolates. “I think we have pizza and nacho makings too.” She turned to the fridge and retrieved half a pepperoni pizza, nacho cheese, sour cream, salsa, and guacamole.
“What’s happening right now?” Luke’s voice took on a bewildered tone. “Are you cleaning?”
Wylder stuck her arm deep into the bottom cabinet for her emergency snacks and popped up from her crouch. “It’s called snacking. I don’t really clean.” She ripped open a box of Pop-Tarts. The brown sugar kind.
“You can’t be serious.” Luke snatched the box from her before she could get her hands on her favorite snack.
“I don’t joke about food.” She snatched them back. “Help yourself.” She nudged a pack of mint cookies toward him. They weren’t her favorite.
“This isn’t food, Wylder.”
“It’s snackies.” She blinked at him in confusion, not sure how this was so difficult.
“No, we’re not eating this … insanity of bad health.”
“Oh, no.” Wylder backed away from the counter, clutching her Pop-Tarts. “You’re one of those.”
“If you mean healthy, then yes, I’m one of those.” He picked up the jar of nacho cheese, reading the label.
“Put it down,” Wylder demanded.
“You know there’s nothing in this that’s actual cheese, right?”
“Put my cheese down and stop reading my labels.” Wylder grabbed the pizza and put it behind her to protect it from the health nut.
“Come on, let’s go to my brother’s place and get some real food. I promise it will be good.”
Wylder glanced at all her yummy food, wondering how best to get rid of Luke.
“Bash has just been resting a lot in bed, and Logan won’t come as long as I’m there. Maybe you can help me figure out how to get Logan to forgive me.”
“He has.” Wylder sighed, putting her precious snacks back in the fridge. “He wouldn’t talk to you if he hadn’t.”
“You know my brother pretty well.” Luke stood, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I do.” She shut her cabinet. “I’m the one he hasn’t forgiven.”
“Then come hang out at my house, and we’ll figure out a plan. I have an idea, but I don’t know if he’ll go for it.” Luke held the door open for her, and she followed him.
“All right, but you better have some decent snacks.”
Luke Cook did not have decent snacks.
“What is this?” Wylder picked at the unnaturally bright green things Luke put on her plate.
“Seaweed salad with crunchy edamame and miso dressing. It’s healthy and delicious. Lots of iron and zinc.”
“And what’s that?” She pointed her chopstick at something that looked like sushi but not the cream cheese and fried shrimp kind she liked.
“Smoked salmon and veggie spring rolls with sesame oil.” Luke came to sit beside her at the kitchen counter. “I made it myself. Trust me, it’s so good.”
“Just so you know, your hotness level is sinking by the moment.” Wylder sniff
ed the seaweed that looked a little bit like green beans—if green beans came in neon colors. “Mmm, crunchy.” She nibbled at the salad, trying to be polite, though the miso dressing was more vinegar than miso.
Luke laughed. “You look like you’re being tortured.”
“You got any dessert?” She took a small bite of the spring roll. It wasn’t fried so the wrapping was all noodly-soft. It wasn’t bad. She liked the sesame sauce.
“Fruit sushi.”
“Of course.” She pulled the salmon out of the wrap.
“Not a fan of smoked salmon?”
“I like my fish cooked.” She winced. “Not that I eat a lot of fish.”
“I have some shrimp rolls if you want to try one?”
Wylder nodded. “But only if it’s cooked,” she added.
“It’s steamed.” Luke hopped up and brought her an assortment of fruit sushi and shrimp steamed spring rolls with basil.
“This is actually pretty good.”
“Thanks.” Luke shoved a huge bite of seaweed in his mouth.
“I don’t think I’m a fan of your weed salad.” She pushed it to the side of her plate, reaching for a coconut and mango sushi roll.
“It’s seaweed, not weeds.” Luke choked on his laughter.
“I heard ‘weed’ in both of those words, so you haven’t convinced me yet.”
“Next time we’ll try something more in your wheelhouse, but still healthy.”
“If you say so.” Wylder piled on the fruit sushi. “This is good, though.”
“What are we going to do about Logan?” Luke leaned back against his chair.
“I think I need to let him be mad.” Wylder chased flecks of coconut around her plate. “Pushing him now will only alienate him more.”
“We need to get him on stage again, Wylder.” Luke ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Logan will do what Logan wants. The music will drive him, and if he wants to perform, he will. Just probably not with me. Maybe you two should do the song and leave me out of it.”
Luke shook his head. “He won’t perform with me. He never has. It has to be you.”
“I don’t see how we can make that happen when I’m the last person he trusts right now.”
“Then we need to poke the bear.”
“That sounds like a dumb idea.” Wylder scoffed, swirling her food around her plate to make it look like she’d eaten more than she had.
“I know one thing that will get a reaction out of him.”
“What?” Wylder looked up at the brother who wore her favorite face in the whole world. They were identical in so many ways, but Luke wasn’t Logan.
“You and I are going to perform that song at the Winter Review.”
15
“Devyn!” Wylder shrieked, running to bang on her roommate’s door. “Dev, wake up we’ve been robbed!” She slapped her palm against the smooth white surface.
Devyn jerked the door open, her sleeping mask shoved up on her forehead. “What are you … babbling about now?” She wiped a weary hand over her eyes. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s just midnight.”
“That is the definition of middle of the night.” Devyn’s shoulders slumped. “Did you actually need something, or are you just short on attention?”
“Ouch.” Wylder grabbed Devyn’s hand and towed her to the common room. “We’ve been robbed.”
“On no, did they take your drums?” Devyn’s voice rose in anticipation.
“I’m serious, Dev. Look.” She turned her toward the kitchen.
“Someone ransacked our kitchen?” Devyn frowned.
“I did that part. Look at all this stuff!” Wylder picked up a stack of prepackaged salads she’d found in the fridge.
Devyn sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, what are you babbling about? I’m too tired to interpret your Wylderisms.”
Wylder slammed her hand on the counter. “Someone stole all my snacks and replaced it with this … junk.” She waved her arms at the contents of the tiny kitchen. The counters were covered in salads, protein bars—and not the chocolate kind she sorta liked—baby carrots and hummus, which she also sorta liked but there wasn’t a cracker or pita chip in sight.
Devyn seemed to shake with outrage.
“Right? We should call security.” Wylder ran a hand through her hair. “I came out for my snackies, and it was like this. Someone broke in while I was in my room studying.”
“Broke in is a bit of a stretch when you always forget to lock the door at night.” Devyn’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“And look at this!” Wylder opened the tiny freezer compartment filled with ice cream bars. “They’re vegan.”
“So, someone came in and replaced all your junk food with healthy stuff?” Devyn’s lips twitched as she reached into the freezer for an ice cream bar.
“Yes!” Wylder wrapped her arms around her middle. “Who would do such a thing?”
Devyn’s laughter bubbled up in her throat, spilling out as she shook her head. “Priceless.” She wiped at her eyes, turning back to her room, and taking a vegan ice-cream bar with her.
More laughter followed even after Devyn closed her bedroom door.
“It’s not funny!” Wylder eyed the offensive salads, her stomach rumbling for a plate of midnight nachos. She shoved the food back into the refrigerator, sorting through the protein bars and jars of vegan soup, looking for anything she might like. Okay, she’d eat the protein bars normally, but it was the principle of the thing.
“Can’t really go wrong with a cereal bar.” She tore into the wrapper, sniffing the contents. It smelled like cinnamon. But there weren’t any graham cracker bits or marshmallows. It did have chocolate chunks, so it couldn’t be too bad. She took a bite and chewed … and chewed. “Gross.” She spit it into the trashcan. “So not chocolate.” She scowled at the wrapper. “Carob? What in the world is carob, and why is it masquerading as chocolate?”
Wylder crammed everything else into the cabinets and went in search of food. She knew the right place for it too.
Sneaking into the boys’ wing after hours was easy when you knew exactly when security made their rounds. Right now, the night security officer was busy watching his stories down at the first-floor security desk. She had at least thirty minutes to creep down the halls, avoiding the cameras and counting on the security guard’s attention being elsewhere.
“Diego?” She whispered as she stepped into the suite he shared with Will. “You still working?” She closed the door behind her.
“Wylder? What are you doing? It’s past curfew.” Diego peered over his enormous computer screen.
“Since when has that stopped me? I need some real food, D. I’m starving.” She moved to their small kitchen, sorting through the cabinets. “Popcorn would do it.” She set a bag of buttery popcorn on the counter.
“Um, help yourself.” Diego continued to clack on his computer keys.
“Thanks. You’re the best.”
“There’s some leftover barbecue eel in the fridge if you want it.”
“Definitely not.” Wylder turned to Will’s cabinet, hoping to find something not on the hockey team’s list of approved foods.
“Ugh, protein bars. And not even the good kind.” She almost cried.
“There’s pizza in the fridge too.” Diego went back to his computer coding.
“Oh, Diego, will you marry me?” She dove for the leftovers and grabbed one of Will’s precious Coke Zeros he would kill her for stealing later.
“You know I’m gay, Wylds. Why do you keep asking?” Diego pushed his glasses up, not sparing her a glance from his screen.
“Because I love you, and one of these days I’m going to convince you to run away with me.”
“You’re teasing me, right?” Diego pushed away from his desk to join her on the couch.
“Yes. But I do love you.” She scooted over to make room for him on the small sofa.
“You
know that’s better when it’s reheated?” He wrinkled his nose at the cold pizza.
“Too hungry to wait.” She took another huge bite.
“Did you finally run out of food?” Diego helped himself to a slice, moving to the kitchen to grab a plate and throw it in the microwave.
Wylder shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just too horrible.” But now that she had some good brain food in her stomach, she knew who the culprit was, and Luke Cook was a dead man.
“Hey, Mr. Funny Man.” Wylder flipped Luke’s hat off just outside her English Lit classroom. This was his first day of classes at the academy, and she had the immense pleasure of his company in her way-too-early first class that already had more Cook brothers than she could handle. “What do you have to say for yourself?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot against the tiled floor.
“I don’t know what you mean?” He smirked down at her, the brim of his worn cowboy hat throwing his face in shadow.
“You mess with my food, you’re going to regret it.”
“Someone messed with your food? That’s terrible.”
“You’re not funny. I had to get up early to eat in the dining hall because you took my breakfast donuts.”
“Donuts have no nutritional value, Wylder.”
“But they’re delicious with my morning iced coffee.”
“You should watch your caffeine intake. It’s not good for you.”
“And you should watch your mouth. It’s not good for you.”
“We need to work on our song. Come over after your last class, and I’ll make us some snacks.”
“It’s not our song, and I don’t know yet if I’m going to sing it with you.” She lowered her voice. “Do you really think it will help Logan if we … rub his face in it like that?”
“It will make him crazy.” Luke grinned. “So crazy he just might fall for my evil plan.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what this evil plan of yours is?”
“No.” He draped his arm across her shoulders. “But it’s already working.”
“Fine.” She shrugged his arm away. “But I’m so not eating your snacks. You come to my room. That’ll give you a chance to eat your way through all that salad you put in my fridge.”
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