The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,88
his feet. They lose their fucking minds over that guy. To have that kind of power…” His voice shifts and he shakes his head. “Must be mind-blowing.”
“Ask your friend. I’m sure he knows all about it,” Gracie says, her gaze immediately going to mine. “Oops, I didn’t mean anything by—”
“No, it’s okay. Jackson does have a pretty big fan club,” I reassure her.
“Yeah, but you’re still his number one fangirl, right?” Gracie’s brows shoot up.
I slowly shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not anymore.”
And that makes me sad. Worse, it kind of hurts. It’s for the best though. I need to move on.
I have to.
We all chat while we wait for Jackson’s performance. It’s so hot in here, I’m sweating. Thank god I put my hair up in a high ponytail and am only wearing a cute camisole I bought at the end of summer. The straps are thin, as is the fabric, showing off plenty of skin. I wish I would’ve worn shorts because these jeans are confining, but whatever. Ava and I were going for a look, and we sort of match, like we’re still in middle school.
It was fun, getting ready with her earlier. Like old times.
The music stops. The lights shut off, and the crowd goes silent while we wait. I’m breathless, knowing what’s about to happen, but still excited over it anyway.
This is what Jackson does to me.
A single spotlight clicks on, shining on the stage, and there he is. Sitting in his ornate throne, his guitar in his lap, wearing jeans and a black tank. He leans in close to the mic, flicking his head to get the strands of his long blond hair out of his face. “Good evening. I’m Jackson Rivers.”
The crowd goes wild. Including me.
He launches into a song that is vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it. He usually kicks off every performance with a cover song, and it’s normally Nirvana.
But this isn’t Nirvana. I’m not sure who it is, but I can’t help swaying to the beat, letting it take over my body. Jackson’s voice wraps all around me, his fingers plucking the guitar strings nimbly, creating a bluesy sound. It dawns on me who the song reminds me of. I’m not a huge John Mayer fan, though my mom used to be, but the song has a Mayer feel and I’m thinking that’s who it is.
Hmm. Not what I would consider Jackson’s normal style, but I’m digging it.
Once the song is over, everyone claps and shouts. Jackson’s smiling, his gaze scanning the crowd. I keep myself tucked behind Caleb, not wanting him to see me enjoying this. Maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying it.
But it’s like I can’t help myself. I love the way he performs, his songs, his voice, his charisma on stage.
The curtains lift, revealing the band behind him, and he jumps out of the giant chair, leaving his guitar behind as he goes over to the microphone stand and clutches the mic with both hands. “I have a new song I’m debuting tonight. Wanna hear it?”
All the girls scream yes as loud as they can, including Caleb. Jackson sends him a warning look, and I can’t help but smile.
I love how Caleb gives him endless shit, and Jackson just takes it.
“Wanna know what it’s called?” Jackson asks, his gaze zeroing in on me and never straying.
Yes! They all scream again, except for me. I can’t speak.
All I can do is stare helplessly at this man I am hopelessly in love with.
He waits until they quiet down, licking his lower lip in this sexy way that probably has half the girls in the room melting as he murmurs close to the mic, “The song is called ‘Pink’. Here we go.”
The band starts playing, Jackson nodding his head to the beat. I’m breathless with anticipation, waiting to hear him sing and when he starts, I’m riveted.
When I first met you, I didn’t know what I had
You were loyal and true, yet I treated you so fuckin’ bad
You should’ve walked, when I proved who I really am
Yet here you still are, and you’re taking a stand
There are things I’ve done, words I can’t take back
That hurt you, destroyed you, and I’m a complete dick