With a smile, I let myself indulge in that daydream…in that pretty picture he painted.
What would it be like to just have the things I wanted in life without it hurting anyone? Where I could bring Dare around and chase my dreams without being terrified of setting my father off?
Then there was the matter of my brother: we weren’t sure how Calum would react. He’d given up the love of his life for their career, and he’d been a wreck since. How would he handle Dare finding happiness with me, his little sister, of all people?
How would my father handle the knowledge that I’d fallen in love with the very person who’d “taken” Calum from us, and I’d planned on leaving with him too?
It was difficult for me to swallow, but the reality of the situation was we wouldn’t haveeveryone’ssupport. My dad would never be on board with it, with our relationship or my true goals, and I’d never gone a day without his approval or support. I didn’t know if I could handle it if he looked at me with disappointment, or if he stopped talking to me the way he had Calum. It’s why I fervently put it off, focusing on my time at Dalhousie, doing the absolute best I could trying to make him proud.
I shoved my phone, ID ,and bank card in the clutch, joining Lara and our two other roommates in the common area.
Chantel stood beside Lara, leaning against the kitchen island. She was dressed in a skintight black dress with buttons all the way up, the material sloped down on the one shoulder, exposing it. Her dark hair hung in beachy waves past her shoulders. Liv wore skinny jeans torn at the knees and a sheer long-sleeved shirt over a white camisole, her blond hair down and straightened, hanging just below her shoulders. She stood on the other side of the island.
Liv was studying for her BA in Arts. She wanted to be a high school teacher, while Chantel was in the broadcast journalism program and wanted to be a reporter. Liv was super nice, always smiling and positive, and Chantel was more serious. Calculating, almost. She’d never done anything outright to make me feel uneasy, and maybe I was attributing her future career goals with my mistrust, but I didn’t really trust her.
Lara let out a low, appreciative whistle when I walked in. “It’s bullshit how you end up lookingthisdrop-dead gorgeous after ten minutes of getting ready. It took me two hours to look like this.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “You’re just being nice because you want me to go out tonight.”
“That’s true, you look like a troll. No time to worry about it now,” Lara replied, teasing. She looped her arm through mine and turned to Chantel and Liv. “Let’s do this!”
The four of us walked out of our dorm, locking it up behind us, and headed to the elevators. Liv and Chantel led the way, giggling and tittering about some guys they hoped would show up. I liked them both—even if I didn’t exactlytrustthem.
Lara, though? She’d quickly become one of my closest friends. But not even Lara knew about my relationship with Dare. She knew I crushed on him, but she had no idea I was now secretly dating him. Sometimes, I felt bad keeping it from her, but I cherished what I had with Dare too much to risk ruining it.
I didn’t think Lara would expose us intentionally, but sometimes she got excitable about things. This was something to get excited about, in Lara’s eyes. She’d been daring me to go after him since she learned of my crush.
CHAPTERTEN
Connor
I steppedoff the stage and was instantly bombarded by Lara. She was jumping up and down and cheering so loud, I thought my eardrums would burst. “Holy shit, that wasincredible! The entire fucking bar was on their feet eating it up, Connor!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I laughed, flushing under the attention I suddenly felt coming at all sides. “It’s just karaoke.” Only, I knew it was a little more—Lara wasn’t exaggerating, there had been a lot of hoots and hollers happening. I was flushed from the attention, but now that I’d stepped off stage…I was uncomfortable with it.
“Not when you do it!” She shook her head in disagreement. “You make it look like a cover, or something. God, I can’twaituntil you do this professionally—you’ll push your brother’s band right off the charts.”
“I highly doubt that, and I wouldn’t want to, anyway,” I replied, trying to hide the smile that came after her compliment. Songwriting wasn’t something I’d kept from her, and Lara knew I was working on an album of my own. She just didn’t know exactly how far into the project I was, or that Dare was helping me.
All we needed now was the recording hours at a studio, and the time to get together to record it.
Before Lara, I’d made it a habit to not bring my friends around my brother or his famous friends too much. It never worked out, something would end up happening, and I always ended up feeling used. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell if people wanted to be friends with me for me, or my name.
I’d only been fourteen years old when Cal left on his first tour, and by Christmas, The Forgotten Flounders wereeverywhere. I went from being the shy bookworm and teacher’s pet with only one friend, to suddenly having every kid in my school want to be my best friend.
It took me a few years to weed out who was there for me and who was there because my brother was famous. By twelfth grade, it was obvious who was there because they genuinely wanted to bemyfriend and who was there because they’d hoped they’d get a glimpse of Calum or an invite to one of their concerts. Unfortunately, most people fell in that second category.
I decided to start fresh in university, and not tell a soul about who my brother was, exempting Lara, who figured it out for herself. While she had proved herself a trustworthy companion and able to kick it with the guys, I still tried to keep my university life separate from home.
We made our way back to the table our group sat at and slid into the empty seat. Someone had ordered a tray of shots. “Drink up, bitches!” Lara said, picking up her drink and downing it. Liv, Angela, and Ava tossed back their shots. Chantel sent me a look I couldn’t decipher before she knocked hers back.
The rules for karaoke night were simple; you couldn’t choose your own song, the girls got to. You didn’t complain about their selection either. If you rocked it, as in, performed it to completion without messing up the lyrics, everyone else had to take a shot. If you dropped it, screwed up the words, or bailed before the song ended…you had to take the shot—and one for everyone else too.
For my first song of the night, the girls had decided on “Heaven Knows” by The Pretty Reckless, and I had a little fun with it.
“All right, Chantel, you’re next.”
My clutch vibrated on the table, moving several inches as my phone rang. I pulled it out, frowning when I saw I had over twelve missed calls from my mom. “Something’s wrong,” I said, panic rising as I headed for the exit as quickly as I could, forgetting my jacket in my haste.
