“Thank you,” she says formally, her hand falling to her sides as she reclines back against the front of my car and crosses her arms. “I thought it was time for a change.”

That comment makes Jaxon sad. I can see it in his fallen expression and the way his shoulders sort of slump in. “Yeah, change is good, I guess,” he mutters.

Poor guy. I feel so bad for him. He’s actually been writing really depressing songs lately and I sometimes wonder if they’re about Lea.

“So we should get going,” I say, attempting to break the awkward tension as I head toward the driver’s side. “We have to go pick up some stuff for Christmas dinner.”

“You’re not going home?” Jaxon asks Lea as she heads for the passenger side of the car.

She shakes her head, opening the door. “Nah, I thought I’d stay here and catch up on some schoolwork. I’ve kind of fallen behind the last few weeks.”

Probably because she’s been spending a lot of time at football games and restaurants, and swimming, or whatever the hell she was doing that day.

“Are you going home?” she asks Jaxon, holding the door open and looking at him.

He shakes his head, fidgeting with a leather band on his wrist as twinkle lights sparkle in the background, highlighting the sadness in his eyes. “Nah, I’m actually going to New York to hang with Spalding and his family.”

“New York. Holy shit. How fun.” She rests her arms on top of the car door while I debate whether I should just climb into the car and let them chat or stop them from chatting to avoid Jaxon getting more attached. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“I know you have.” He steps for her with this look in his eyes like he’s about to ask her something really important.

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That’s my cue to stop the conversation. “Hey, Lea, we gotta go, otherwise Tristan’s going to head out on his own to go shopping and, well, I can only imagine what he’ll buy for us to eat for Christmas dinner.”

“Probably TV dinners.” Lea chuckles under her breath. “Yeah, we should get going.” She waves at Jaxon, who looks crushed. “It was nice catching up with you. Hope you have a blast in New York.” She lowers her head into the car and climbs in.

I wave at Jaxon and he gives me the dirtiest look, like I’ve just hit him in the face or something. I’m guessing it’s because I broke up the conversation, but it’s for his own good. I know for a fact that right now Lea’s not looking to get back together with him. Maybe in the future, but I won’t say for sure because the future is always changing.

After I get into the car, buckle my seat belt, and drive down the road, Lea turns to me with excitement in her eyes. “I have a huge favor to ask you.”

“It wouldn’t by chance be helping you get back together with Jaxon, would it?” I ask with false hope.

“No.” She frowns. “Nova, I already told you that isn’t happening.”

“I know what you said, but I’m always hoping you’ll change your mind,” I say. When she scowls at me, I opt to change the subject. “Okay, tell me what your favor is.”

She lightens up a little. “I need you to play with my band tomorrow at Red & Black Ink.”

I gape at her as I slow the car down for a stop sign. It’s fairly late, the sun descending behind the hills, but there’s still enough light that I can see Lea’s face clearly. “Band? Since when are you in a band?”

She pulls a whoops face. “Oh yeah. I should probably explain that part, huh?”

I nod as I press on the gas. “Yeah, that would be awesome, since I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Hey, there’s no need to get snippy,” she says. “I kept it a secret for a good reason.”

“And what’s that?”

She bites her thumbnail as she gazes out the window at the sliver of sunlight left, painting the sky bright orange and pink. “Because…” She sighs, lowering her hand onto her lap. “Look, I get that you like Jaxon, but he just wasn’t the right guy for me, so I need you to remember that when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

“I don’t think you need to tell me,” I say to her. “You’re dating one of your band members, aren’t you? And that’s why you’ve been acting so vague about what you’ve been doing the last couple of months.”

She hesitates and then nods. “Well, that and I’ve been sneaking off to band practice.”

“But what about the football game? And the face painting thing?”

“Oh, Brody also plays football.”

“Brody’s the guy you’re dating, I’m guessing,” I say, unable to hide the disdain in my voice. Brody? What kind of name is Brody anyway? It sounds like a meathead’s name. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?

She tucks a fallen strand of her hair behind her ear as she slouches in the seat so that she can put her feet up on the dashboard. “Yeah, he’s also the guitarist of Moon Glory.”

“Moon Glory?”

“Yeah, it’s the name of our band,” she says cheerfully. “A band in desperate need of a drummer, since our old one decided to bail out on us last week. Just up and quit.” She throws her hands in the air exasperatedly. “Can you believe that?”

“Kind of.” I turn the car onto the main road in town. “Bands break up a lot.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She sighs and then looks at me with a silent plea in her eyes. “So what do you think? Can you be our drummer?”

“I’m already in a band,” I remind her. “And I like them.”

“Yeah, but I’m your best friend,” she says, lowering her feet onto the floor and sitting up in the seat. “And I’ve been there for you a lot in the last few months.”

“I know you have,” I reply heavyheartedly. “But I can’t just up and quit when things are going so great right now… I don’t get great a lot.”

“But it’s our first gig and if we bail out on it, then Stella might not give us another chance.” She pouts, giving me her saddest puppy-dog face, trying to guilt-trip me into it.

“I’ll tell you what,” I say, turning onto the side road that leads to our apartment complex. “I’ll fill in until you can find your own drummer, but I’m not quitting my band.”

She claps her hands and bounces up and down excitedly. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

I force a smile, hoping this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. For one thing, I can picture Spalding getting pissed off because he thinks I’m cheating on the band or something. And Jaxon… well, God knows how that’s going to go over if he knows I’m in a band with Lea and her new boyfriend.

* * *

“So what’s the hell’s bugging you?” Tristan asks me later that night as Lea, he, and I wander around the grocery store, attempting to plan some sort of Christmas eve meal for the three of us to have in just a couple of days. I can still feel the awkwardness from earlier and it only builds every time he gives me a more-than-friendly look, which has happened four times so far.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I assess the frozen vegetable selection, tapping my finger on my lips as I decide which one to get.

“I mean, why have you had a permanent frown on your face since Lea and you showed up at the apartment earlier?” he asks, rolling up the sleeves of his blue hooded jacket, which matches his eyes.

“I’m just tired.” I yawn, pretending to be exhausted, and I am, kind of. Mentally exhausted, anyway.

He flirtingly bumps his shoulder into mine. “I know you’re lying, so fess up. What the hell is making you so down?” He pauses. “It’s not something with Quinton, is it?”

I quickly shake my head. “No, nothing like that.” I reach for the handle of the freezer door. “In fact, now that you’ve said that, it seems really stupid.”

“Tell me anyway,” he says, reclining against the cart as he studies me. “Maybe I can help you with a problem and pay you back for all the times you’ve helped me out.”

I shouldn’t do it. I know that.

I glance around the aisle. Lea wandered off to get rolls, but that was a few minutes ago and I worry she might come back and hear me talking to him. “It’s nothing. Just band stuff.”

“Like what?”

I open the door and the freezer air hits me. “Lea wants me to help out in her band. Step in for the drummer until they can find a new one.” I grab a bag of frozen corn and drop it into the cart. Then I let go of the door and it slams shut.

“She’s in a band?” he asks. “Since when?”

“For a while, I guess.”

“So that’s why she’s been acting so weird, then?” he asks, and I nod. He muses over something, then asks, “And you don’t want to help in her band out because she lied to you?” he asks, turning around and pushing the cart forward.

“It’s not that,” I say, stopping in front of the frozen pie selection. “I don’t want to help out because I worry that my band’s going to get pissed off at me and kick me out.”

“Because the singer is Lea’s old boyfriend?”

“That, and Spalding takes everything so seriously.”

“That he does,” Tristan agrees, opening the freezer door to grab an apple pie. “And I think that after only meeting him like twice.”

“So you get why I’m worried.” I squeeze up to his side and select a chocolate pie.

“Aha!” he practically screams, pointing a finger at the pie in my hand. “I picked the healthier choice.”

I roll my eyes as he grins. “Just because it has apples in it, doesn’t mean that it’s healthier.”

“It so totally does.” He snatches the pie out of my hand, flips it over, and starts reading the back. Then he puts it into the cart and starts reading the back of the apple pie, his goofy attitude dissipating. “Shit, the apple sounds almost worse than the chocolate.”

“Told ya.” I give him a cocky grin as he puts the other pie into the cart.

“And I’m telling you that everything’s going to be okay with your band,” he says, draping his arm over my shoulder. I tense. Stop breathing. My mind searching for away to shrug him off without being too obvious. “You don’t give yourself enough credit for how much people love you. If they get pissed, just show them that sweet smile and I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

“You’re giving me and my smile way too much credit.” I pretend to step forward and assess the selection of pies again.

“No way.” He moves forward with me and touches my bottom lip with his fingertip. “I’m not giving it enough credit.” His tongue slips out and wets his lips as his eyes zone in on mine.

I swallow hard. Shit. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

As he looks at me with this sort of lustful look, I realize I just might have more problems than my band getting mad at me. I can see it in his eyes—he’s thinking about kissing me. Right here in the grocery store. I should take off running, right down the aisle, but I freeze in place, worried that if I reject him like that, it could mess up how good everything’s going.

My thoughts are racing in a distorted stream that doesn’t make sense and the closer Tristan’s lips get to mine, the blurrier everything around me becomes. I feel a shift, one I want to run the hell away from. Not just out of the store, but back in time to when life didn’t seem so complicated. Back when I was sure about everything. Yet I keep standing in place. Motionless. About to ruin everything.

Thankfully, Lea turns the corner with two bags of rolls in her hand. “Okay, so I couldn’t decide what kind to get,” she says, dropping the bags into the cart. “So I got both.” She gives us a funny look as Tristan steps back, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and I start picking at my nails.

“Two bags is fine,” Tristan says indifferently. “You never can have too many rolls.”

Lea looks at him like he’s crazy, but Tristan ignores her and roams up the aisle, glancing at the crackers-and-cookies section like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Did you guys almost just kiss?” Lea hisses as I wrap my fingers around the handle of the cart.

I swiftly shake my head. “No.”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “Don’t lie to me, Nova Reed.”

“I’m not,” I say in a low voice, pushing the cart forward.

But I am lying. Because I know I wouldn’t have moved away if he’d kissed me. But for what reason, I’m not sure.

By the time I get back to the apartment, I feel like a terrible person. I end up going into my room, locking my door, cranking up my music, and pretending I don’t hear Tristan when he knocks or Lea when she hollers for me to come watch a movie with her. Instead I sit on my bed and take out my photo album dedicated to Landon. I relax back in bed, leaning against the headboard, and start turning the pages. I can’t help but smile at the good pictures, the ones where Landon looks really happy. The ones of our good moments. There weren’t many, which makes it hard to remember them sometimes and easier to remember the sad times because there were so many. But when things were good, they were amazing.

Finally, after I’m on the verge of tearing up, I decide to get out my camera and record myself. I set the camera on my nightstand and aim it at myself as I turn the pages of the album.




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