“Okay, I’ll be back.”
I head to the area of the club where people can order drinks. Because it’s a teen club, there is no alcohol. There are also tables here where customers can order food.
“A Coke, please,” I tell the guy behind the counter.
I chug half the bottle down. The liquid feels amazing as it goes down my throat.
“Hi,” a voice says from my left. “It’s Kylen, right?”
Glancing there, I spot a girl standing before me. She has dark hair, blue eyes, and a hesitant smile on her face. She’s holding an empty tray in her hand.
“I’m Iris.” She holds out her free hand. “I’m a huge fan.”
I accept the handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Iris.”
She smiles. “You guys were amazing.”
“Thanks.”
She smiles shyly. “Truth is, I’ve been a fan since, like, last year. I’ve listened to all of your songs on YouTube.”
“Oh, wow. That’s really flattering.”
She nods, pushing some hair behind her ear. “I work here as a waitress and when my boss mentioned yesterday that we needed a band to fill up one of the slots, I recommended you guys. He saw your latest video and was sold.” She giggles shyly.
“Thanks. That was so cool of you. I really appreciate it.”
She gushes how much she loves our music, especially ‘Better With You.’ She claims that when she heard it, it transformed her.
“You go to Harrington Bay Academy, right?” she asks. “I go to Harrington Bay High. It’s a small school, but I like it. I’m a junior.”
“Me, too.”
She smiles, talks to me about other things, but then she has to leave because her break is over.
“Is it okay if I give you my number?” she asks. “Maybe we can go out some time.”
My gaze travels to where I left Raven dancing with her friends. “Sorry, but I’m interested in someone else.”
She follows my gaze, nodding. “I get it.” She smiles. “Good luck with your band. I’m rooting for you guys.”
I return the smile. “Thanks so much for your support.”
After giving me another grin, she walks off. I return to Raven and the others and join them in dancing.
Chapter Thirty
Raven
The guys are practicing in the music room and I’m sitting on one of the chairs on the side, pen poised over my lyrics notebook. I’ve been at it for a few minutes, since I got here, but so far I haven’t come up with a single decent lyric. Ugh. I know I have it in me. I think I’m nervous that the next song the guys perform won’t be as good as “Better With You.”
A voice in my head urges me to let them play “I Don’t Need Your Kisses,” but I push that to the back of my mind. I’m in no way ready for that.
“Hey.” Kylen pulls a chair over and sits down. “The guys wanted to murder each other, so I suggested we take a break.”
The others are in different areas of the room, looking at their phones or playing their instruments.
He eyes my notebook. “Writing lyrics?”
