right decision. We were used to having alcohol thrown at us. Even in public we didn’t have trouble procuring said libations.... but these people thought the worst of me already and I didn’t want to add to the rumor mill.
Which was an anomaly in itself.
Sloane sighed long and suffering, “Alright. Water on the rocks it is.”
“Thanks S, you know I love you!” I wrapped my arms around her waist and gave her a squeeze.
“Sure, Ives. You just better hope they’re better than this band.” She said with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
We walked back over to the band and Kenna. Exie eyed our tumblers of water with greedy eyes and I could immediately tell she assumed incorrectly.
“Yum!” She reached excitedly for my drink and her eyes lit up expressively. She grabbed it and drank from it before I could warn her discretely.
“Oh that’s-“ she stopped confused when the taste of cold water touched her tongue. She stared at me, silently demanding an explanation.
“Water,” I finished for her. “It’s water.”
The band on stage finished a song and the room filled with the sudden quiet that came in between sets. They started to tear down their instruments while our group waited for something to happen between Exie and me.
“Obviously, it’s water,” She laughed, covering for her misguided expectations. “I mean, you did just get out of rehab. What else would it be?”
I winced. This was so awkward.
Thankfully Ryder corralled his band together and they went off to make music. Kenna stared at me like I betrayed her after they were gone so I sucked it up and tried to play nice.
“Is he going to dedicate another song to you?” I asked, hoping a little flattery would go a long way.
“He usually does,” She smiled at me tightly. “So you girls don’t go to Central, right?”
“Nope,” Sloane mimicked her uncomfortable smile. “Brownell Talbot.”
“We have to wear uniforms,” Exie rolled her eyes. “They’re so awful.”
“I can imagine,” Kenna laughed carefully. “We don’t have to wear uniforms, but our school doesn’t have air conditioning. It smells like a gym locker half the year.”
“That it does,” I agreed with a tiny shudder. I missed the warm months this year thanks to my extended vacay in therapy, but spring would be terrible.
“So how do you guys know each other then?” Kenna moved in so that we formed a tight little circle. It was almost relaxed.
“Our moms all know each other,” I explained before they had a chance to jump in.
“Cool,” Kenna commented but then the music started with a strong guitar rift from Ryder and all conversation got lost to the music.
The band was incredible as usual- and most of all Ryder. Not that I was really surprised, and even though I had just seen them perform a week ago, his stage-presence was still mesmerizing. I forced myself not to be completely lost to his lyrics, or him.
I couldn’t help it though and looking around at the captivated audience I could tell I wasn’t the only one. Ryder sang with intense heart and raw honesty. His eyes squinched shut while his hands worked his guitar with absolute practiced skill. One hand kept getting yanked through his hair in a kind of nervous gesture that made it stick up outrageously in the sexiest display of terrible hair I had ever seen.
He was perfection as a musician. Everything the audience could hope for. And when the set decrescendo-ed into an acoustic number with only him and his guitar we all sat with bated breath and transfixed eyes.
“This is a song I wrote recently,” he started, his voice echoing in the mic while he looked down to adjust his guitar. “The band hasn’t had a chance to play it together yet, so it will be just me. But it’s uh, about chocolate croissants and coffee.” He laughed at himself, the sound gruff and warm in the microphone and the audience laughed right along with him. I swallowed back a strong wave of panic and forced myself to look casual.
“Is that something special between you two?” I asked Kenna, hoping I was wrong.
“I guess,” she shrugged. “I get one every time I visit him at his work.”
“Oh, that’s cute.” A wave of relief washed over me, I almost stumbled back from the force of it.
But then Ryder started singing about a black-hearted girl that never let anyone get close.
Damn him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sugar Skulls finished up their set on just the right note. The small crowd went wild with whistling and clapping and Kenna beamed