My jaw drops. Nova’s eyes go wide. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you’ve actually seen the principal and Mr. Jones having sex? Where? When? And why the hell didn’t you tell us?” She gasps, clutching her chest. “Traitor! Steve, don’t you dare walk away from me!”
“Yeah, seriously,” I add, cracking up. “I thought we were friends, man!”
We both trail after him, stuck with the horrifying mental image of our principal and the gym teacher tangled up in bed sheets. Nova is muttering threats under her breath, and I can’t stop laughing.
Then Asher’s voice rings out, clear as a bell. “Fuck! Fuck!”
He bounces in my arms, tugging at my glasses, his laughter ringing out like he just learned the funniest new word in the world.
The three of us freeze. Slowly, we look at one another, a single shared realization passing between us like a death sentence.
“Fuck,” Steven mutters, running a hand down his face.
“Oh, shit. We’re dead,” Nova says in horror.
“Fucking dead,” I echo, tightening my grip on Asher as he keeps chanting his new favorite word.
And right then, I realize: babysitting is basically the fastest way to sign your own death warrant.
God help us when Nova’s grandma finds out what we’ve taught Asher.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nova Marshall
PAST (2016)
––––––––
"Jamming with other people will create energy and
excitement that you can feed off, and which will help push you to do things you'd never dream of doing by yourself."
Dimebag Darrell
––––––––
I don’t understand why I can’t do well in school. I try my best. I pay attention in class, I study for hours with Steven in the library, but nothing ever seems to stick.
I wish I were like him. That boy is a genius. He knows everything. He reads not only manga but also piles of horror novels—Stephen King’s his favorite author. Whenever we study, he still finds time to browse new books, his arms always full by the time we leave the library.
He and Vincent talk about things I can’t even follow. They communicate with glances, with tiny nods, as if they share aprivate language. I introduced them, yet sometimes I feel like the outsider. Steven rarely opens up to me, but with Vincent he’s different—comfortable, close. Where you find Vincent Cooper, you’ll find Steven White.
The only reason Steven and I became friends was because I asked for his help. I was close to failing my first year of high school, and I couldn’t let that happen.
My mom already doubted me for choosing public school over private. I couldn’t give her more reasons to call me a failure.
So now, three times a week, Steven and I sit in the city library. He’s not the most patient person—he rolls his eyes constantly and gets irritated at people for no reason—but with me, when it comes to math, he’s different.
He explains things ten times over if I need it, never rushing me. When frustration creeps in, he counts to twenty out loud and it always makes me laugh.
He even brings me a slice of cheesecake from his family’s bakery because he knows it’s my favorite. He’s... kind, even if he doesn’t always show it. I love hearing him talk about his anime or the new book he found. I want to repay him somehow, but I barely scrape by with Cs. The only class where I actually excel is bakery—and that’s just because he’s my partner. Without him, when I’m paired with Aurora, we almost always set something on fire.
Steven’s grades have soared since he started hanging around Vincent. It’s as if my best friend’s presence pulled him out of the constant anger he carried after his grandmother died. Vincent, on the other hand, has always been the star. Top student in music club, adored by his classmates, talented beyond words.
The only person who seems to rival him is Maxwell Radley. They don’t get along, mostly because people keep comparing them.
Vincent doesn’t care about the competition... or at least, he didn’t. Everything changed when Tom Owens announced he was looking for a new band member.
