Jake’s jaw tics at the use of his first name, which he despises because it’s the same as his father’s and grandfather’s.
The girl’s lips seem to tilt upward at his small reaction, till Jake speaks.
“Dax.” His voice is pure venom, like nothing I’ve ever heard. And although Jake is this lovable, funny guy to us, it scares the crap out of both Kami and me.
“You know damn well it’s Dakota,” she spits out.
“And you know damn fucking well it’s Jake,” he retorts.
Dakota’s mouth tightens, and Jake smiles slightly. Not his usual cocky one, but pure evil.
What the fuck?
For a couple of seconds, they stare at each other. Neither one of them is backing down, as if they’re in some sort of contest.
Kami, Dakota’s friend, and I exchange glances, not knowing what to do.
“Hey, Dakota, we should head to town. Everyone’s waiting for us.” Her friend gently touches her arm as if she’s going to get burned, and I don’t blame her.
Kami squeezes my hand, clearly nervous and uncomfortable at how Jake looks.
Finally, Dakota smiles, perfect teeth on full display, still staring at my friend.
“Goodbye, Johnathan,” she says sweetly.
They finally turn to walk away as Jake throws over his shoulder, “Bye, Dax.”
Dakota’s friend pulls her arm to keep her walking and waves bye at us, looking at me and Kami apologetically.
After a couple of seconds and a long exhale from Jake, Kami speaks up.
“What the hell was that?”
“Whothe hell was that?” I ask.
Jake turns to us. “Someone my parents know.” He points to Kami’s knees. “We should get you back to your dorm and clean you up. Need to make sure these cuts don’t get infected.”
Translation: end of conversation.
We quietly make our way to Astor Hall, Kami and I taking turns glancing at each other, concerned over our best friend.
We’re both thinking the same thing.
It looks as though we found the only other person who can get under Jake’s skin like his father does, and we have no idea who the fuck she is.
After a coupleof hours of being in Kami and Em’s dorm, I’m in my car driving to one of my student’s houses for a lesson, and the only thing on my mind is how I can help Stevie with her list. Helping her pick an audition song seems like the safe choice on what to tackle first. Now that I know what her voice sounds like, it’ll be easier to decide on a song. Brad has enough on his hands helping her with the one they’re cowriting.
The image of Brad brings a twinge of jealousy that I quickly push away and ignore. They’re working together because of me, I have no reason to feel that way.
I shake my head, bringing my thoughts back to her audition that has to be coming up soon. Shit, it’s probably at the end of this month or the beginning of the next.
Instantly, a mile-long list of musicians and albums comes to mind, and I sift through all my favorite bands. Pop rock and songs from musicals seem to be the way to go. The ones that’ll bring out what I saw that night and possibly more if she learns to control her nerves. “Lovely” is a great song, but other songs will give her more space to show her talent.
My phone rings three minutes into my drive, and I smile before answering my family’s weekly check-in.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart! You’re on speaker and your grandma is here too,” my mom says excitedly.
