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Actually I do. I could hear them outside every single night, and I made a note in my journal every single time. No words needed. Just a little heart.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, moving to pick up my shirt and pants, hoping that she’ll get the message and clear the hell out. “His mom’s step-son kind of raped me, so I am officially not going to ever be involved with their family.”
She stands up and places herself in front of me. “That’s why we were out so long today, River. Giving up on Tate because of some pseudo-connection to…Hudson…” She eyes me warily for a second and then she lets out a rush of air, as if she’s diving into the deep end whether I like it or not. “I told Hudson’s father. Declan King, he’s a cop. And his son’s badness isn’t…hereditary. Declan was mortified, and he won’teverlet Hudson be around you again. I mean, I’m sure it’s not from a place of total innocence on his dad’s part – Pamela was absolutely disgusted, and you could press charges – but it’s a start. Don’t let one asshole get in the way of you doing whatever it is that you want. And I meanwhateveryou want. Not what I want.” She straightens her spine. “You want a gap year to figure out what you want? Take it. You want to sayfuck collegeand live like a nomad? Do it.” She steps closer and gives me a look that travels past my irises and into my soul. “You want to date Mitch’s son and start a future with him? Then that’s exactly what you should do. I have been absent, stifling, dictatorial, and I amso ashamed. You let go of the good, but now it’s time to let go of the bad. I will be making this up to you forever River, starting now, but most importantly I want you to know that you have options.”
Tears are burning in my eyes but not because of what she just said. I’m emotional because moments like this always come too late. Tate won’t be waiting for me anymore, I have no idea what to do if Idon’tgo to college, and I’m about to be late to my prom. Triple fuck.
There isn’t enough time for me fully digest my mom’s words and she thankfully makes no move to embrace me in my overwhelmed state, but a palpable sensation squeezes between us in silent promise.You. Have. Options.
The sun burns a little brighter on my back as I drop the shirt and pants onto the floor, and lean across the quilt to pick up my dress.
Chapter 31
Present
I hand the driver a twenty, giving her a quickthanksbefore I step out of the cab onto the gravel. I close the door and she peels away, kicking up a little dust cloud in her wake as I take a step backwards to look up at the exterior of the hotel. Dammit Kit. I could get a little teary eyed thinking about how brilliant my best friend in the whole wide world is.
The white pillars which stand tall above the porch steps are wrapped up in black chiffon and twinkling yellow fairy lights, switched on despite the evening sun still glowing. A little red carpet is spread in front of the open wooden doors and inside I see the huge cardboard Hollywood sign that Kit and I spent two weeks of lunch breaks at school perfecting. The black and white film posters that I designed are hung in black baroque frames, and my little fake cinema tickets are strewn across every table, mantle, and desk.
There are a few older boys smoking and milling around by the entrance, presumably the band that we hired, but I don’t bother looking at them as I take my first steps inside. I can hear loud instrumental filler music playing from a stereo, and I walk directly ahead to follow the noise. Just before I round the corner to the right to step inside of the main hall, Kit barrels out like a tornado and throws herself into my arms. For some reason, my throat constricts and my eyes prickle as if I’m about to cry.
“This is awesome,” I croak out. My voice is hoarse and whispery, and when she pulls back I can see how round and glassy her eyes have become too. Neither of us knows what our precarious futures will hold, but what wedoknow is how few high school friends stay close post-graduation. She gives me a soft half-smile and it sends us both fully over the edge.
I choke out a little sob but I will the tears to stay in my eyes. I did not spend five whole minutes applying mascara to cry it off in ten seconds.
“Thisis awesome,” Kit replies, prodding me roughly in my bony chest. I concave and whine, tears forgotten as I jab her back in the fleshy bit under her arm. She laughs and takes my hand, half-dragging me into the main room. It’s all draped velvet curtains and obscene crystal chandeliers glinting in the late evening glow. Our classmates are sat and stood around tables, taking group photos and willing each other to dance. It’s not really me but I guess it’s kind of… nice.
“Sort of sexy, right?” Kit asks, glancing at me from beneath thick black lashes. Her long onyx hair is spilling over her shoulders, and her bright pink cheeks give her a Snow White flush.
I nod, leaning down to pick up a handful of the fake hundred-dollar bills that I made, and then I shower them like confetti into the air above us. A bright flash to our left momentarily blinds me, and I glance over to see a guy in a loosened tux holding a bulky camera up to his face. I blink at him and then become even more confused as I notice that, stood beside him, is evidently the person who is the actual photographer. He lowers the camera and my eyes widen exponentially.
Madden is grinning down at us, a guitar pick clenched between his teeth and his eyes glinting like knives. He hands the camera back to the photographer, who rolls her eyes as she walks away from him, and then, with his hands in his pockets,Madden steps languorously closer to us. He gives Kit a thorough once-over and I can’t help but blush at the obvious insinuation of his stare. She’s watching him with a bored expression, one eyebrow cocked, and her arms folded neatly over her suit jacket. His lip-ring sparkles under the crystal refractions from the chandelier and, after removing the pick from his mouth, he rolls the ring steadily with the tip of his tongue.
“River, this is Madden,” Kit says, sighing. “He’s one of the guys in the band, and he’s really annoying. Madden, this is River – she’s my best friend, and she’s off-limits.”
My eyebrows practically hit my hairline as I watch their stare-off. I feel anxious seeing Madden but I’m not really sure why. Maybe it’s because he makes me think about Tate, and Tate is more than likely using his finally found freedom to fuck his way around this town with his God of Thunder body.
Good for him.
I try to unclench my teeth.
Good. For. Him.
Madden tosses the guitar pick into the air, re-catching it over and over again with long deft fingers.Ooookay.
“Don’t need to tellmethat she’s off-limits,” he says finally, his eyes flicking to me with razor sharpness. Jesus. I can only imagine what goes on in that head of his for his gaze to be so cutting. “I’ve known that for aloooooongtime,” he finishes, and he flashes us his perfect white teeth.
I cross my arms over my chest, mirroring Kit. We must look like the two most hostile girls in the entire State, let alone in this room. “Actually-” I begin, but he holds up two fingers, his pick wedged between them like a cigarette.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says, and then he jerks his head to the stage. “Got some things to do,” he drawls and then, with one last look at Kit, he turns on his heel and stalks back to where he came from.
What the fuck?
I spin to look at Kit for some sort of explanation but she’s already giving me herdon’t even askeye-roll and head-shake. I glance over to the stage and see that the other guys from outside have joined Madden, retuning their probably already perfectly tuned guitars, and turning down the track on the stereo so that they can resume their role.
“A drink?” Kit says, and then she hauls me by the arm to the long table at the right side of the room without waiting for a response.
Nice try, but I am not one to be distracted. I stare open-mouthed at Madden as he runs his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar, his eyes trained on me like a laser-pointer, with a knowing and expectant expression quirking up the corner of his mouth. Should I be unsettled? My brain says yes, but my intuition isn’t sensing a danger. I narrow my eyes on him as he makes a test-strum. He taps his nose to teaseI’ve got a secret.
