She clutches her book to her chest, rolling her eyes. “Sure. By the way, those new jeans look great on you.”
I glance down at them—the low-waisted pair I’d snagged fromFairy’s IN shop. Butterflies and pastel flowers embroidered along the thigh, flared enough to cover my purple boots. The moment I saw them, I knew tonight was their debut and I paired them with a white strapless top.
I loop my arm through Aurora’s and smile at her. “Thanks. You look gorgeous too—I love that dress.”
She’s wearing a short white one with thin straps, layered under a pale pink denim jacket. Her classic black Mary Janes complete the look.
Tonight’s Straight Punch’s first concert. I’m convinced Everett Hill only let them perform because Vincent and Max are in the band. I have nothing against Miles and Tanner, but Tom? I can’t stand him. Especially the way he treats Aurora. He promised her a ride today and then ditched her without shame.
I wish someone would finally teach him a lesson. Maybe I’ll just sneak into the boys’ locker room during gym and swap his shampoo with hair removal cream—see how tough he feels then.
Steven didn’t come with us. He said he wasn’t in the mood, so he stayed home. Honestly, I bet that was a lie—he’s probably stuck at the bakery working again.
Still, I wish he were here. It’s Vincent’s first concert, and I wanted all of us together tonight. I’ll just spam him with videos and Photoshop him into the group pics. Problem solved.
But the truth is, Steven’s been drifting away for a while now. He doesn’t even crash at Vincent’s place like he used to. Back when we were younger, I’d sometimes show up in the middle of the night and find him passed out in Vincent’s bed, so I’d just take the air mattress next to my best friend.
When we reach the gym, we see the guys already onstage—well, almost all of them. Tom’s missing. The band can’t play without their lead singer and guitarist.
Aurora and I exchange a confused glance and head straight for the stage.
Miles paces frantically, Tanner twirls his drumsticks like nothing’s wrong, and both Vincent and Max are on the phone, faces tense.
I smile briefly at Max before zeroing in on Vincent. “What’s wrong?”
He shoves his phone into his pocket with a frustrated snort. “Tom’s gone.”
“And the asshole won’t answer his damn phone,” Max mutters, joining us. For once, he and Aurora stand side by side without bickering. It’s almost nice.
Vincent sits down on the stage floor, legs stretched out, looking utterly defeated. “What do we do now? We can’t play without him.”
Miles and Tanner gather close, equally worried. Vincent catches my eye and nods for me to sit.
I settle cross-legged between his knees, resting my elbows on his thighs. He sighs and buries his face into the crook of my neck.
“At least you’re here,” he whispers.
The boys keep trying to call Tom, but he still doesn’t answer the phone.
That’s when the best idea in the whole world pops into my head. “How about Vincent singing instead of Tom?” I blurt.
He stiffens instantly. “Marshall, no. Don’t—”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Max interrupts. Vincent stares at him, surprised, but his bandmate just shrugs. “You know the lyrics better than Tom and you’re the only one who know how to play those riffs. If I sang and played guitar, who would handle bass? You can’t play bass as I do.”
I grin, recognizing Max’s backhanded way of showing respect. Miles and Tanner nod in agreement. Even Aurora looks excited, despite her missing boyfriend.
“If Vincent plays lead, he could even pull off theWet Sandsolo,” Tanner adds. “I’ve heard him rehearse it—phenomenal.”
Everyone turns to Vincent, waiting, and I flash him my biggest smile. “No more excuses.”
I stand, offering my hands to haul him up. He takes them reluctantly, and suddenly we’re inches apart. Vincent grips my hips and pulls me onto his shoes. My boots dig into his feet, but he doesn’t complain. “Much better, don’t you think?” he murmurs, smiling sweetly.
I nod, cheeks blazing. “So? You gonna take this chance or not, Cooper?”
He swallows. “I don’t know—what if I’m not ready? Singing in front of the whole school—”
I cup his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing his cheeks. His eyes flutter shut, his hold on my hips tightening.
