Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “Making dinner.”

  “Ooh, what’s for dinner tonight in the Enamorado Torres house?”

  “Hey, you pronounced that really well.”

  “Thanks, I’ve been practicing.”

  “You have?”

  “No. I—Never mind.” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed. “I was trying to be funny.”

  “I am making chili.”

  “Do you make your chili with cornbread or cinnamon rolls?” she asked.

  “Cinnamon rolls,” he said with a scoff. “Who makes cornbread?”

  She smiled. “Some people.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Cinnamon rolls with chili. That’s how you eat chili,” he said, getting intense. “Why would anyone ever make cornbread with chili?” He paused. “Wait. Do you…eat cornbread with chili?” he asked.

  “No. But I know people who do.”

  He was quiet for a minute.

  “Nope. I don’t believe it. That’s not a thing.”

  “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.” She tipped her head back and laughed deeply.

  God, that felt good.

  So very good.

  Laughing was a luxury she hadn’t been able to afford for…well, forever it seemed. Being able to laugh regularly hadn’t been part of her life before.

  Maybe she could make space for it now.

  Especially if she was able to have good people in her life who made laughing feel so normal.

  A thought struck her, and like usual, she went with it.

  “Hey, since I have you on the phone, can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask, but I can’t promise you’ll like the answer,” he quoted her from the night before.

  “Har har.” Hannah leaned her head around the corner to make sure Piper’s door was still closed. She turned off the speaker and put the phone up to her ear.

  “So, Piper did something…different tonight.”

  “Different how?” Johnny asked, the frown evident in his tone.

  “She complained about not being allowed to have friends and went to her room to listen to music really loud.”

  Silence.

  “Like, really loud,” she reiterated.

  “What kind of music?”

  “I don’t know. Her usual stuff. Big vocals, big emotion, same producer.”

  Johnny barked a laugh. “It’s gotta be weird to have you for an older sister.”

  “Because I’m a slow-motion train wreck with a great ass?”

  A loud burst of laughter hit her through the phone, followed by the clatter of his phone dropping onto something hard.

  He picked the phone back up and was still laughing.

  “You have to stop doing that,” he chastised around his chuckles.

  “Stop doing what, exactly? Being honest?” She grabbed her biggest knife and chopped through the romaine hearts with a satisfying crunch. “It’s not my fault that the truth is hilarious,” she flatly reminded him. “Back to my question, though.”

  “You didn’t ask a question,” he replied. “You made an observation.”

  “You know what I mean, though.”

  He hmmed softly. “It doesn’t sound too unusual. I mean, she’s in seventh grade, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A little attitude here and there, some loud music, bouts of rebellion, it’s all par for the course.”

  “This is puberty?” she asked, not liking the sound of that.

  “Probably. In seventh grade, Shawn got really into punk rock. I just let it happen. I didn’t make a thing out of it until I caught him with weed.”

  “Weed’s not the worst thing,” she remarked.

  “Maybe not for a white girl. But he’s brown with an unpronounceable last name. Getting caught with any amount of marijuana could have ruined any chance he had for certain things in the future.”

  Something in his voice had her waiting for more of an explanation. But he just sighed and let it end there.

  Hmm.

  Interesting.

  “I think my best advice is something I got from my auntie. She said that teenagers are basically clinically insane. Their brains are on a constant up and down of hormones and chemicals and they can’t keep up. So try not to take anything they say or do personally and just keep them alive. And try to get a vegetable in them every once in a while.”

  “That’s…actually really helpful,” Hannah commented.

  “Right?” Johnny sniffed a laugh. “Some days it was really hard not to take it personal. But if I ended the day knowing he was alive and safe, I called it good. We went through a particularly rebellious phase where I secretly crushed up kids’ vitamins and put them in his cereal in the morning.”

  Now it was Hannah’s turn to belly laugh.

  “I had to make sure!”

  “He’s a good kid,” Hannah said softly.

  “Yeah. He really is. A little forceful when it comes to tracking down his idols, but overall, really great.”

  She chuckled. “Overall.”

  Neither one of them spoke for a minute and it was obvious the conversation had come to a natural close. But she didn’t want to say goodbye.

  Which was both a new and melancholy feeling.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Hannah Lee,” he said gently, his voice deep and rough.

  “Okay,” she replied. “Hey, Johnny?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t call her again that week.

  And she’d set her phone up in the kitchen in just the right spot while she’d made dinner so that if he did call her, she wouldn’t miss it.

  He didn’t call.

  Which was…fine.

  She also hadn’t called him.

  Because they didn’t have a friendship that she understood, so how could she know the rules?

  Was it a friendship?

  Maybe not yet.

  But she was pretty sure it was in the very delicate beginning stages of one. All she had to do was not ruin it.

  Saturday came, and with it, more snow.

  “Make sure you bring that hat you made for Shawn,” Piper said as she tied the laces of her winter boots by the door.

  “Are you sure?” Hannah asked, eyeing the blue and gold ugly pile of yarn that she had had the audacity to call a hat. It was an insult to hats and yarn everywhere.

  “Yeah, you worked really hard on it!” Piper proclaimed. She pulled out her own hat that Hannah had finished a few days prior and stuck it on her head. “See? Perfect fit.”

  Hannah’s mouth turned down as she observed the terrible thing her sister was so willing to wear in public.

  “Ughhh.” Piper stomped through the apartment with her boots on (which was a violation of the “house rules”) and shoved Shawn’s hat into her coat pocket. “Let’s goooo.”

  Don’t take it personal.

  “’Kay.” Hannah grabbed her keys off the hook and followed Piper out the door.

  It was strange. Piper could be both very sweet and very salty in the same minute.

  Hannah didn’t remember puberty. It was mostly just flashes of memories that didn’t make any sense, followed by a general queasiness.

  But with the cocktail of hormones coursing through her body, as Johnny had pointed out, maybe that was normal.

  They made it to the school parking lot without incident despite the roads being totally fucked.

  Piper didn’t run off right when she parked the car, but lingered. And walked with Hannah to the door.

  Strange days indeed.

  The gymnasium was warm in comparison to the outdoors and Hannah was thankful. She removed her coat and was almost immediately hit in the face with Piper’s coat.

  “Yeah, I’ll just take your stuff,” Hannah said flatly to no one. Because Piper had already kicked off her winter boots and was running to the locker room, her sock feet slipping on the wood floor, the gym bag bouncing against the back of her legs.

  They were earlier
than normal.

  Piper’s coach had emailed them all the night before, asking everyone to show up a half hour early for some practice since Friday night’s had gotten canceled.

  Hannah didn’t mind. That meant she had her choice of bleacher. And she didn’t have to wrestle Piper’s winter coat and wet boots in front the grand assembly.

  “I hate winter.”

  Hannah finished tucking Piper’s coat into the space between the wall and bleacher and looked up to see the familiar face of Sarahi.

  She had grown accustomed to Sarahi’s presence (and commentary) during the basketball games and secretly hoped Piper and Ana would become friends so that Hannah had an excuse to see Sarahi more often.

  Sarahi looked her usual polished, designer self. She was in faux leather leggings that looked like liquid on her legs, and an oversized Chanel sweater. Black diamonds at her throat and wrist.

  Sky. High. Heels.

  “How do you walk in those when there’s so much snow on the ground?” Hannah had to ask. It didn’t make sense to her.

  Sarahi smirked. “Very carefully.” She tapped her dainty feet on the wood bleachers. “If it’s very deep, my husband carries me.”

  “He carries you?” Hannah repeated in disbelief. She couldn’t remember having ever met Sarahi’s husband, but now she really wanted to.

  The gleam in Sarahi’s eye turned sneaky. “I have to ask very nicely.”

  Hannah threw a hand in the air. “I don’t want to know.”

  Sarahi cackled and gripped Hannah’s arm tightly.

  “You two look like you’re up to no good.”

  Hannah just stopped herself from smiling like an idiot at Johnny’s handsome face. But she may have smiled a little.

  “You know what they say,” Sarahi answered him. “Birds of a feather plan bank heists together.”

  Hannah snorted. “That’s not the saying.”

  Sarahi feigned shock. “It’s not?”

  “It’s not,” Johnny confirmed sternly. He pointed his finger at Sarahi. “Don’t corrupt her.”

  Sarahi cackled wickedly.

  Hannah was taken aback.

  She was in danger of being corrupted? Wasn’t she the one who usually did the corrupting?

  “Uh, sir,” Hannah said to Johnny. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”

  His eyes made a slow perusal of her person, up and down and back again. Her cheeks began to heat. His lips twitched and he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

  He stepped down from the bleachers and walked to the concession on the other side of the court.

  Hannah watched him go.

  Vice Principal Shatford made an uncharacteristic appearance during halftime.

  She came out onto the court and gave a weird pandering speech about good sportsmanlike conduct. Then she reminded the girls that modesty was rewarded.

  It wasn’t a speech directed at Piper. But it was one that Hannah had had to endure a time or two herself.

  Modesty.

  Yep. Definitely made an impact.

  Hannah rolled her eyes and Sarahi caught her. She leaned over and said in a low voice, “She makes my life a living a hell.”

  Hannah frowned severely. “How?”

  “She makes it difficult to get things done. Loses paperwork, can’t manage to keep an appointment, refuses to speak to me on the phone.”

  Hannah hadn’t had that experience. She didn’t like the VP, but that was just a gut feeling, not because of any tangible reason.

  She decided not to say any of that to Sarahi, though, because what good would it do?

  Oh, I get all those things! Why not you?

  Yeah, no.

  Besides, it couldn’t be easy being the Vice Principal at a private school that was both junior high and high school. Though if she was overworked, the school could just hire another one with the tuition that Hannah paid for Piper alone.

  “I’m thirsty, you want anything?” Hannah asked, standing.

  “Water, please,” Sarahi responded with a warm smile.

  Okay, yeah, Sarahi could be a little intimidating at times with her direct approach and flawless appearance. But that wasn’t a reason to disregard the woman.

  It didn’t sit right with Hannah and she was very deep in thought about it when she made it to the window.

  “Hey,” Johnny greeted, putting both his hands on the counter in a wide placement. Something in his tone had her dropping her previous thoughts and searching his face for an explanation.

  He leaned a little over the counter and dropped his voice.

  “Shawn’s been gone for a minute.” Johnny glanced around to see if anyone nearby was listening. “Would you do me a favor and see if he’s somewhere in the building?”

  Johnny was asking her for a favor? Yeah, he was agitated.

  “Sure. Any place I should start?”

  Johnny drummed his fingers nervously on the counter. “The east wing. Sometimes he helps this kid Edgar with his science.” He shook his head tightly. “He’s been warned not to, but…”

  “I’ll find him,” Hannah promised.

  She left the loud gymnasium and headed into the darkened part of the school building

  Carlton Baxter Christian Academy was like most rich kid schools she had gone to. And she’d gone to a few. Well, until her grandpa died and her mom got custody.

  It was laid out in a pretty generic floorplan and getting to the east wing was easy.

  She heard voices as she walked down the hall and slowed down.

  That did not sound like Shawn. She’d gotten to know his voice pretty well rather recently.

  It sounded like…

  When it clicked, she picked up her pace.

  The door was open and she entered the science room unseen.

  In the back stood Shawn and a young Hispanic kid about Piper’s age, their heads hung low as Vice Principal Shatford scolded them with her words.

  “If Edgar here can’t understand the language enough to pass his classes on his own, then he should learn it. This is America. He’s been here long enough.” She bent at the waist and raised her voice. “Do you comprende?”

  Edgar shrank back from the woman but didn’t lift his eyes.

  Shatford rolled her eyes. “See? It’s a waste of time.”

  “You, Mr. Torres, are not a qualified student aid.”

  “But I applied. I have all the requirements—”

  She held up a finger and interrupted him with a tsk. “It’s like you forget how little you matter to me. How little you matter to anyone. You were an anchor baby. Just a tool to use. You know what I don't need? I don’t need you running around behind my back and helping all the ESL kids. If they can’t learn the language, then they can’t learn here.”

  And then, despite all her months of meditation and yoga and deep breathing, Hannah lost her absolute shit.

  “What’s going on in here?” she asked, mock sweetly.

  She could feel it, the caged cat breaking free inside.

  Lord have mercy, but her bad bitch was bloodthirsty.

  Shatford turned around and plastered a fake smile on her face. “Oh, Ms. James. What are you doing here? The game is down in the gymnasium. Here, I’ll show you.” She moved closer, a hand held out to usher the way.

  “I know where it is. Did you, as an educator, just dismiss the needs of one of your students? And then minimize the viability of the other? And then close with some light racist ideological trauma? I want to make sure I heard it correctly before I take action.” Hannah titled her head and pursed her lips.

  Shatford glared at her and dropped the niceties. “I think you heard what you wanted to hear.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes. A smarter person would have recognized the power shift in the room. Shawn and Edgar did. They scurried around the perimeter and hustled out the door.

  Shatford jutted her chin up and moved to her right. She walked down the righthand aisle of desks toward the exit. Hannah followed her.


  It was more a stalking than a chase.

  “Oh, I don’t think I heard enough. How about you give me the long version?” Hannah clicked her nails along the desktops as she slowly gained ground on Shatford.

  Shatford spun around, eyes flashing. “You have no idea how hard this job is. Everyone is always trying to take advantage. Those kinds of people are toxic to our children. I refuse to let our future be ruined because no one was willing to make the hard calls.”

  Hannah had stopped moving. Her stomach twisted and soured.

  “Hard calls? Are you delusional?”

  “You can try to report me, but I have a stellar reputation. The parents love me,” Shatford hissed, her orangey hair bouncing around her ears like a fluffy helmet. “They’re more likely to throw you and your orphan out than risk losing me.”

  Hannah decided she’d heard enough. And if they kicked Piper out, then so be it. But this was going to be something she enjoyed.

  “Fuck you,” Hannah said, voice deep and powerful. She drew out the words, enjoying the feel of them as they crossed her lips.

  Shatford’s eyes widened and her head jerked back. Clearly no one had ever told her off before.

  That was all right, Hannah would make this one count.

  “You prissy, middle-aged, white trash, cunt-faced fuck,” Hannah continued, her tone bored and deliberate. “You think I’m afraid of you? I’ve never been afraid of anyone.”

  Shatford’s mouth opened and gaped like a fish realizing it had taken its last clean breath.

  “You enjoy reducing children to labels and racist opinions? I wonder how you would fair with that kind of analysis held up to you?” Hannah tilted her head to the side. “Let’s find out.”

  “You can’t talk to me that way,” Shatford sputtered.

  “Oh, I think I can.” Hannah chuckled darkly. “Let’s talk about your cheap shoes and bad teeth. Or is that too shallow? Shall I go deeper? Let’s talk about your lack of compassion and how bad you are at your job.”

  Shatford’s whole body trembled with anger and probably fear. She inhaled through her nose and held her shoulders back. And for a moment, Hannah thought the woman might actually try to fight back. But then Shatford cut and run. Right out the door of the classroom and into the hallway.