UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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EVEN AS THE LAST CHORDS OF THE SONG ECHOED through the bar, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. I could see Madison clearly, out near the front, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. I thought she’d like it, kind of a thank-you for all she’d done in the past two weeks, but halfway through “Happy Birthday,” when she wasn’t even smiling, my gut told me Jess, you just blew it big.

We left the stage as Deck went back on and announced the band for the next eighteen-and-over date. The dance floor had cleared out a bit, but was still thick enough that I had to push my way through. Gray and Tanner disappeared into the crowd. Someone tugged on the collar of my jacket; a girl waved me over to her and her friends.

“You guys were sooooo awesome!”

“Thanks.” I nodded at the four of them, hoping they didn’t expect me to say much more than that, because I could barely hear my own thoughts over the techno that was now blaring through the speakers.

“You guys want to hang out?” she asked.

“We’re, um, kind of hanging out anyway, here with some friends.”

“Will you guys be back here to play again?” another girl asked.

I shrugged. “Not sure, hope so.”

They let out an enthusiastic “Woo-hoo!” and high-fived. I didn’t know what to do. We’d never had fans who were strangers before. It didn’t exactly suck.

“Is the guy in the hat seeing anyone?”

“Ha, Tanner?” I shook my head.

The girl who’d waved me over tugged on my collar again and brought her mouth to my ear.

“I think you’re hot. Text me when you play here next,” she said, shoving something into my hand. It was a napkin. With her number.

“Cool.” I tucked it into my pocket. “See ya.”

“See ya”? You’ve got this guitar-god thing down great, Jess.

I found Madison, Wren, and Grayson by the bar.

Madison had her arms crossed, a different person from the beginning of the night. She looked bummed, all the excitement drained out of her. Zach wasn’t around. I shouldn’t have felt happy about that, but I did.

“So did you hate it?”

“Oh, what, you? No, you guys were great. ‘Happy Birthday’? I just hate being the center of attention for something so corny. I know I probably don’t give off that vibe, but, yeah that’s me.”

“Ah, I’ll file that away for future reference.”

A hatless Tanner popped up behind Grayson and Wren.

“Have any of you seen Diara?”

“You mean Jazz?” Madison said.

“Oh, I kind of like the code-name thing.”

“Isn’t she with Logan?” Wren asked.

“No, I saw him leave about half an hour ago. I haven’t see her since then.” Madison’s brow pinched and she looked at Wren. “I thought she was with you.”

“She was with me until five minutes ago and . . .” Tanner leaned in like he was going to say something but put out his pinkie and thumb and tipped them back toward his mouth to mime drinking.

“No,” we all said together.

“Yeah, had to step outside for some air; we came back in, I told her I’d grab her a water and now I can’t find her.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” Wren grabbed Madison’s hand and began to walk away. Then a siren sounded, a red light pulsed on the far wall, and people climbed up onto the bar to dance. Everyone was clapping and laughing, even the bartender, so it must have been a regular thing at Whiskey Business.

“Ho-leeey shit. Found her.” We followed Tanner’s gaze across the room to the end of the bar. There was Diara/Jazz, standing on top and wearing Tanner’s ridonkulous hat. She held hands with a girl who wore a sparkly crown and a veil. They waved their arms up over their heads as they swung their hips side to side along to the music.

“Omigod, she’s really into it,” Wren said, laughing.

Tanner cupped his hand around his mouth and yelled. “Di-ar-a! Woo!”

We watched until the song was over and the red light dimmed. Everyone climbed down from the bar. Jazz bounded over to us, the pom-pom on the top of the hat wiggling as she made her way through the crowd. “Did you see me?”

“Jazzabelle is out to play,” Madison said, tugging on the hat strings. Jazz’s eyes widened.

“Hey, this girl wants to meet you.” She grabbed Tanner’s hand and pulled him along. His face twisted with confusion but he laughed as they sliced their way through the chaos.

“Guess that is his lucky hat,” I said.

“Jess,” someone said, putting a hand on my shoulder. My parents. I’d almost forgotten they were there.

“We’re heading out. Need any help loading up?” Dad asked.

“Nah, we’re cool.”

Mom clung to his arm, a big grin on her face as she took in the atmosphere. Her eyes landed on Madison’s shirt, then she looked between the two of us and smiled.

“Are you the Madison who designed the logo?”

Madison lowered her eyes and laughed. “Guilty.”

“Love it, and Jesse’s hair, too.”

Did she have to mention the hair?

“Thanks.”

“Make sure you settle things with Deck. He was looking for you. See you at home.” They waved as they made their way to the front and out of the bar.

“Dude, maybe we should go break down, before Diara starts dancing on the bar again. I don’t feel like having anyone question her about her ID. Know what I mean?” Grayson said.

Once the Suburban was loaded, we went back inside to Declan’s office.

“There you are,” Deck said, taking out bright orange earplugs as he pushed away from the desk on his rolling chair. “Once that techno shit starts playing I have to put these in. Gotta do what brings ’em in, though.”

It was the first time he’d said anything that reminded me that he was my parents’ age. “Yeah.”

“Yellow Number Five.” He stood up and handed me the cash. I flipped through the bills—tens and twenties—and counted two hundred.

“There’s too much here,” I said, handing him back two twenties. He held up his hand.

“We did great tonight, consider it a bonus. Are you guys up for a date in May?”

“Hell yeah,” I said.

“Cool, I’ll put you down—second week. Hey, did you ever see this?”

He waved us over to the wall of pictures. Gray and I stood before it, scanning the photos.

“Recognize anyone?”

“That’s Dad,” I said, pointing to their band picture. The five of them stood in various poses, leaning against a brick wall. My father was shirtless under a denim jacket and tight black pants. I’d seen pics from his band days, but not this one. He was so thin, and looked bored, but in a determined way—if I didn’t know him I would have assumed he was pretty badass.

“Is that, wait—” Gray pointed at a picture of Declan with his arm around a girl. She had long hair and was leaning back, laughing.

“Whoa.” I laughed and inspected the picture again. I knew my mother had hung out with Backtalk, she and my dad talked about it from time to time, but I’d never seen pics of her. Especially with Declan.

“You know she used to sing backup when she was bored.”

“My mother. Sing?”

“Yeah, she had a sweet voice, too. Never wanted to do more than that. She was too practical.” Declan stared at the picture in a way that made me wonder how close they actually had been. No. Fucking. Way.

“Well, um, we’re heading out.”

“See you in May.”

In the hallway, I handed Gray his share of the take. He paused a moment and counted it.

“It’s all there,” I said.

“Oh, yeah dude, I know. Never been paid to play. Feels kind of sweet.”

In all the excitement, the nerves, the desire to get it right, I’d forgotten about that feeling. He was right. It did feel pretty sweet to get paid for something that I loved to do.

“It does. Doesn’t it?”

We unloaded at my house first, then hit the Starlite diner, which was so crowded they didn’t have a spot for six. We had to split up into two booths across from each other. Me and T on one side, Jazz and Madison on the other in a booth for four, while Wren and Gray sat in the booth for two near the window. Even though they sat across from each other, they were one unit, legs entwined, hands clasped across the table, as they read through the menu. There was familiarity there. Closeness. Comfort. I felt my wrist, a phantom buzz from the missing infinity band.

Madison already had her menu closed. When our eyes met, she looked away. God, I would have given anything to relive that moment onstage at Whiskey Business. The way it felt to have her look at me like that, like she couldn’t look away. Here in the diner with the bright lights and the clanking of dishes and laughter, I felt too exposed to just stare at her. How could it have felt like we shared a secret in a crowded room, but here we couldn’t hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds? She fiddled with the paper ring around her silverware.

After we placed our order, Jazz put her arms on the table and her head down. She looked content in Tanner’s hat.

“So how much did you have to drink, Diara?” Madison asked.

Jazz sat up. “Only two itty-bitty beaker . . . no, wait, test-tube thingies of some really sweet-tasting blue stuff. I’m still a little bzzzzzzzzd, but I’ll be fine after I eat. The girl in the tiara . . . the one getting married . . . just handed them out from this little rack. I was talking to her about Logan, and she told me to just relax, there were other fish in the sea.”

“Wait, what about Logan?” Wren asked.

Jazz waved her hand. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”

“Diara has spoken, bitches,” Tanner said. Jazz convulsed with laughter.

“Ugh, don’t make me laugh.”

The waitress came back with our order. Two plates of disco fries and rye toast with jam. Madison had a hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream.

“Check out this shoddy barista work. Amateurs.” She took a spoonful of whipped cream from the top. I laughed.

Tanner grabbed his plate of disco fries and dug in. Jazz wrinkled her nose.

“Those look like a stomachache waiting to happen.”

“Nah, these are the best. What’s with the rye toast and tea? Are we dropping you off at the nursing home after this?”

Jazz laughed. “Training, Tanner. That plate of grease would probably take me about twenty laps around the park to burn off.”

“Food of the gods, Jasmine. Live a little.” He held out a forkful of fries dripping with gravy and cheese to her.

“You know my real name.”

“Yep, like the rice.”

Jazz snorted, putting her hand up to her mouth. Tanner waved the fork at her again.

“Suits you better than Diara. Going once . . .”

She took the fork out of his hand and nibbled at the tip of a fry before scarfing the rest of it.

“Mmmm . . . this is . . . No way.”

“See, told you.”

Madison arched an eyebrow at their exchange, then looked at me.

“Stranger things,” she said.

I touched my fingertips to hers, across the table. She didn’t snatch them away. Her eyes met mine again. She had smudged dark eyeliner on that made her eyes look so damn blue it was like they were lit from within. I kept waiting for her to glance away, but she didn’t.

“What happened with Zach?” I asked.

“You saw that?”

“Well, no. He was there and now he’s not.”

“We broke up,” she said, sliding her fingertips over mine. We weren’t exactly holding hands, but it was something. Her touch made every cell in my body buzz. Don’t smile. Don’t smile. My mouth betrayed me. She pursed her lips to the side, fighting a smile, and looked away.

“I’m going to make it up to you . . . the birthday thing,” I said.

“You don’t have to,” she said.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

She tapped her fingers on mine. “I’d like that.”