Now that he wasn’t coming, I was worried. His emails were getting shorter and if possible, even more emotionally distant.

I was losing him.

Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. He’d been more than patient and I had been more than confusing.

Claudia nudged my side and I glanced at her. “You okay?” she shouted over the music.

“I’m fine,” I mouthed and turned back to look at the stage, feeling her concerned stare burning into the side of my face.

When the guys finished their set, I was relieved—not because I didn’t love listening to them play, I did, but because hanging out with them usually took my mind off other things. Such as Jake’s absence.

The guys managed to magically finagle a table once they’d gotten past most of the flushed, bothered girls trying to cram their numbers in the guys’ pockets. Even when we all sat down, girls hovered nearby, watching them all. Beck pulled Claudia down onto his lap and she willingly sat there for him because she was his human shield against obnoxious girls.

Lowe smirked at the maneuver before he quirked a questioning eyebrow in my direction.

I shook my head. “Don’t even think about.”

“I have a very nice lap.” He pouted and his lip ring stuck out comically.

With laughter in my voice, I said, “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”

“Will you at least help me get the drinks?” He nodded his head toward the bar and I stood in answer.

We weaved our way through the crowd, getting stopped by guys and girls who wanted to congratulate Lowe and tell him how much they enjoyed the show.

“Wow,” I said as we moved into the crowd around the bar. “You’re, like, famous.”

He gave me a droll look. “Just catching on.”

I punched him playfully. “I’m serious. You guys are doing well. Paid gigs, airplay…”

Lowe gave me a shy grin. “Yeah, things are starting to get serious. People actually know us back in Chicago. It’s surreal but it’s good. We’ve got a meeting with a small label next week. I don’t think we’re going to take an offer, but we want to talk, get experience with that stuff, show our interest in moving forward with the band.”

My eyes rounded at the news. “Lowe, that’s amazing. You guys deserve it.”

I felt his arm slide around my waist and he gave me a friendly half hug. “Thank you.” He ducked his head, bringing it close to mine. “It’s good to see you, Redford. We’ve all missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys too.” I smiled a little sadly and he caught it and gave me another squeeze.

Unable to stop myself, I said, “How’s Jake?”

Lowe’s eyebrows drew together. “I thought you guys were emailing.”

“We are.” I shrugged. “But we don’t really talk about anything real anymore. I just…” My heart pounded so hard in my chest, I felt it in my throat. The nausea quickly followed. “Is he seeing someone?”

Lowe instantly stiffened with discomfort.

“Oh my God.” I looked away, feeling panic claw at my insides.

“No, not oh my God.” Lowe tugged on my waist to draw my eyes back to his. Sincerity shone through them as he said, “He’s not seeing anyone. I just don’t think it’s my place to talk about this stuff.”

“I know. It’s just Beck and Claudia refuse to talk about it, and I wanted to know if he’s moved on. If he’s sleeping with other girls.”

Studying me for a moment, taking in my pleading eyes with a huff of annoyance, Lowe replied, “I can’t not give in to you.” He shook his head in consternation. “This is how Jake must feel all the time.”

“Well?”

“Truth? Jake has girls come on to him. Does he go home with any of them? No.”

Relief whooshed through me. “Really?”

His expression suddenly turned disapproving. “He knows what it’s like to have you in his bed. Nothing else measures up right now because he still loves you. I feel bad for the guy. I’m also confused as fuck because I look at you and I know how crushed you’d be if you found out he was with some other girl. I look at you and I know you love Jake. What I can’t understand is why you’re not with him.”

“Because,” I tried to explain, “if we do this a third time, we both better be sure. Right now, I’m still trying to figure other stuff out.”

Lowe rolled his eyes. “Not to be a shit, Charley, but you’re twenty-one. We’re all trying to figure stuff out at twenty-one. You think you’re the only one who has a crisis of identity in college? You’re not. And it doesn’t mean you should put the important stuff on hold.”

Feeling a little stung, I moved out of his embrace. “You’re right. You’re a shit.”

“Yeah, well…” He curled his hands around my upper arms and turned me to face him. “I have a little bit of a blind spot when it comes to you and I’ve found myself making excuses for the way you’ve acted this last year. But I can’t justify the way you’ve played Jake. Last January I was the one telling you to watch your back with Jake. I was pissed for what you had to go through watching him be with Melissa while he dangled you on a string. Now you’re doing the same thing to him.”

I glowered at him. “It’s not like that. Jake knows it’s not like that.”

Lowe was immune to my glower. “Jake’s been a fucking mess since he got back from San Francisco, but I get the feeling he’s not going to keep putting himself through this, whatever this is, so yeah… maybe you should get used to the idea of Jake moving on with his life.”

Feeling angry tears prick my eyes, I asked through gritted teeth, “Why are you trying to hurt me?”

His eyes washed over my face and whatever they saw made his expression soften. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Charley. I’m just trying to prepare you.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“I don’t know if I could ever really be mad at you,” he confessed, sounding almost sad. “But right now, I don’t get you.”

Angry, but this time at myself, I glanced away and pretended to watch the bar staff as they tried to cull the crowd around the bar.

Lowe’s warm hand slipped into mine and clasped it tight. I didn’t look at him—I couldn’t for fear I’d fall apart. Instead I just squeezed his hand back and took comfort from the fact that I had such good friends who would stick by me and try to understand, even if they never really could.


It was an understatement to say I was in an even lousier mood after Lowe gave me a talking-to. I had a drink and pretended that everything was okay for a while, until the room started to feel like it was closing in on me.

I excused myself and pushed through the socializing students toward the exit. I practically lunged outside, gulping the air as I flopped against the building.

The noise from the bar gradually became a hum as I stared up at the sky, remembering a time before when life was simpler. It would be easy to blame Jake— to pinpoint the time and say it was the day before I met him when I was sixteen. Except that wasn’t the truth. The truth was life was simpler the day before I left to spend the summer in Miami with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. It was the summer I felt the impact of my cousin Ethan’s death. The hole he left behind, the tear his death caused in my family’s hearts, and all the answers his mom and dad never got. The justice they never found.

Life wasn’t simple after that. For the first time in my life, I felt powerless, and I hated it. I wanted it not to be that way, and that’s when the idea of becoming a cop lodged in my head. There was a naïveté in that, I knew that now. Being a cop wouldn’t make me feel less powerless in bad situations. There was no remedy for that.

“You look deep in thought.”

I jumped, turning wide-eyed to find Beck leaning against the wall beside me. I hadn’t even heard him come outside. “Yeah,” I said dryly. “And I think I was on to something before you interrupted.”

He gave me an apologetic half smile. “Sorry. I needed some air.”

My gaze sharpened, processing the hint of melancholy in the back of my friend’s eyes. “You okay?”

He nodded, swallowing a pull of his beer.

Taking a stab in the dark, I said, “You thinking about your dad?”

Beck’s eyebrows drew together. “He’s been on my mind a little lately. Did Lowe tell you we have a small label interested in us?”

“Yeah.”

“Did I ever tell you my dad was in a band?”

“You told me he was a musician, but I thought he wrote jingles and stuff.”

He shot me an unhappy smile. “Yeah, but that’s not how he started out.” He exhaled, turning so his back was flat to the wall. He stared up at the sky like I had only moments before. “Dad was in a rock band in his early twenties. For a while it was the most important thing in his life—until he met my mom. But then the band got signed to a small label in San Francisco and they started touring.” He stopped talking, his eyes meeting mine, something heavy and grim in their depths. “He loved my mom but the tour killed her love for him. This was a guy who moved us to Chicago when the band was on break because Mom got a teaching opportunity he didn’t want her to pass up. And he loved San Francisco. It was like losing an arm to leave that place. He loved her, though, simple as that. But then the band starting touring again and Mom couldn’t take it.” I suddenly realized that look in Beck’s eyes was desperation. “They argued whenever he was home. She accused him of cheating but my dad was adamant up until the end that he never screwed around on her. She didn’t believe him, and she hated the rock-star lifestyle. So she left him.” His voice cracked. “She left him and even when he left the band for her, she wouldn’t take him back. He stayed in Chicago to be close to us, started working for advertisers and stuff like that. And he turned to alcohol.”