Authors: Wendy Higgins

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #Multigenerational, #Love & Romance, #Social Issues, #General

Flirting With Maybe (11 page)

BOOK: Flirting With Maybe

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Jay smiled and said, “Their debut single is finally out. The album’s almost done.”

“They really made an album?” Last time I’d stalked them online, there wasn’t much to be found. But this was good. It meant he was losing himself in the music. He was okay.

Jay laughed. “Well,
yeah
. What’d you think they were doing out there in L.A.? Actually, it’s only being released in California to start, but I got my hands on the censored radio version. Wanna hear it?”

I shrugged as if I didn’t care. “Um, sure.”

I wondered if Jay could hear how loud my heart was thumping. He clicked on a link, and my plan to act uninterested disintegrated at the sound of the first note. I leaned forward, hanging on every beat like it was a lifeline to the person holding the drumsticks.

The sound was more mainstream than their usual stuff, but it still rocked. I held my breath as the lyrics began.

I tried to warn you,

But girls never listen.

Got your innocence insured?

’Cause it’s ’bout to be stolen

Right out from under your nose.

Prepare to curl your toes.

I’ve got a one-track mind.

You’ve got a nice behind.

Chorus:

I had a good thing goin’

All numb in my shell,

Then you took me by surprise

And now I’m scared as hell.

I don’t wanna feel for you,

I don’t wanna feel.

If feeling means hurting,

Then I don’t wanna be real.

You crank up my lust, girl,

You tame down my rage.

You let your inner vixen

Roam out of her cage,

The moment our lips met

I saw it in your eyes,

But you were seeing me, too,

I now realize.

Chorus

What do I want from you?

I want everything.

And I’m not gonna share—

This ain’t a casual fling.

You can be my bad girl,

I’ll even be your good boy.

How’d the tables get turned?

F*** it, I’ll be your love toy.

Chorus

“What do you think? Good, huh?” Jay asked.

I swallowed hard, wishing for a glass of water. “Does it say on there who wrote it?”

He looked at me funny. “Michael’s the only one who writes their songs, except singles they get from other sources. Why?”

“I’m just curious. Some of the lyrics . . .”

A look of pity crossed his face. “Oh, you thought . . .”

“No. Never mind.” I waved a hand like it was silly. How embarrassing.

“Well, let me just check.”

He clicked around until he found the jacket information for the album.

“Yep, says it was written by Michael Vanderson, lead singer.”

“Cool.” My throat itched. “Thanks for letting me hear it. Are there any, um, pictures? I mean, like, an album cover?” I looked at the computer instead of at Jay. I didn’t want to catch him or his guardian angel looking sad for me. Jay did some more clicking around.

There they were. The lead singer, Michael, was in front wearing his signature tight clothes. The rest of the band was staggered behind him. And there was Kaidan—farthest from the camera in the back. He stood with his feet apart, thumbs hooked in his pockets and head tilted downward. His hair, which was buzzed short last time I’d seen him, had grown out enough to hang in his eyes, dark brown and slightly wavy at the tips. He wore all black, but his eyes peeking up through the shadows of his hair were a vivid contrast in striking blue. I grasped my necklace’s dangling turquoise charm and shivered.

He was even more gorgeous than before. This mysterious, dangerous-looking image of him seared itself into my mind.

Jay’s chair squeaked and I pulled myself from the computer, heart pattering. I glanced around his room, making certain no demon had sneaked in and caught me. I never felt completely safe from their cruel eyes.

Jay lounged back in his chair. Judging by the mix of light gray negative feelings in his aura, now was not the best time to ask him to forward me a copy of that cover so I could crop out the other guys and zoom in on the drummer.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” I didn’t like his sudden serious demeanor.

“You know I love ya, right?” I moved my head up and down, preparing myself for another lecture. “I just . . . I feel like ever since you and Kaidan were together, and then he moved away, you’ve been different.”

Yep. My voice came out in a rasp. “I know I’ve changed—”

“’Cause you got the good girl syndrome.”

“Hm?” Oh. When a good girl tries to change a bad boy, but instead the good girl turns bad. “No.”

“Yes, you did. See, me and Roni have talked about it. You thought you could change him, and maybe you even did a little. But in the end he moved and changed his number, and it made you feel like you weren’t good enough. So you changed yourself to try and be the kind of girl he’d like. Right?”

“Uh . . .”

I envisioned Veronica and Jay psychoanalyzing me. A conversation of this nature required careful steps, like treading through a minefield. I chose not to lie in general, so times like this were tricky.

“I did hope he’d change his ways,” I whispered. “And then, yeah, I ended up changing my ways instead.” But not because of him.

Jay nodded, all knowing. “Roni says you need closure.”

“I don’t see how that’s ever going to happen,” I admitted.

“She says the only way you’re gonna get closure is to find another guy. And not just kissing dudes when you get drunk.”

“Not this again,” I groaned.

“What about that Harvard guy?”

“Kope? We’re just friends, and we haven’t talked in forever. I
really
don’t want a guy right now, Jay.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t know if a new guy is the answer anyway. Personally, I think you need to talk to Kaidan if you want to get over him.”

Jay had no idea how much his words pained me. I wanted nothing more than to talk to Kai. I gritted my teeth and stared down at a stack of CDs on his messy floor.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t really know what I’m talking about here. You act happy and stuff, but it’s like . . . you’re not. Not really. I can’t figure you out. You go out all the time and party it up, but you yell at me if I try to have a drink. And by the end of every night you’re, like, trying to fix everything that went wrong. You made me drive seven people home last night!”

Whoops. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“Nah, it’s cool. I don’t care about that. I care about
you
, and why you’ve got this split-personality thing. I feel like you’re hiding something, but I can’t figure it out. All I can think is that it all goes back to Kaidan.”

I chewed my thumb cuticle. Jay was right, but he could never know the full truth, no matter how badly I wanted to tell him.

“Do you think maybe if you saw him again you might be able to get closure or whatever?”

There was an expectant tilt to Jay’s voice.

“I don’t know,” I began with care. “Maybe. But I have no idea when I’ll see him again.”

“Yeah, well . . . Roni told me not to tell you this, but I feel like I should.” More nervous hand rubbing to go along with his hazy, nervous aura. “They’re gonna be in town next week.”

My stomach lurched. Breathe, breathe, don’t lose it.

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Why will they be here?”

I knew all of their families lived in the Atlanta area—Duke Pharzuph had uprooted Kaidan from England to Georgia—but I didn’t know if the band had a gig in town or something.

“I guess just to visit home. But they’re doing a signing at a music store in Atlanta on Thursday night. Roni’s seriously gonna kill me for telling you.”

He’ll be here.

“Thank you, Jay.” I couldn’t keep the tremble from my words.

“I just hope it won’t make things worse. I’ll go with, if you want.”

I nodded, still glued to the seat and fighting for control.

I’m going to see Kaidan.
Pure, foolish hope and joy cartwheeled through me.

Jay rubbed his chin and stood, kicking his book bag out of the way. He picked up a pair of jeans off his messy floor and gave them the sniff test.

“Man, I don’t feel like going to work today,” Jay grumbled.

Me either
, I thought. And hopefully if no spirits showed tonight, I wouldn’t have to.

I stood up. “I’ll go and let you get ready.”

He stuck out his hand and I slapped mine into it with a weak smile.

“You’re always looking out for me, Jay. I’m sorry for how I’ve been lately.”

Jay pulled me in for a hug. “Let’s get you some closure, huh?”

Closure . . .

What I wanted was Kai in my life. To see him again could be disastrous . . . or miraculous.

I guess we’d find out soon enough.

About the Author

WENDY HIGGINS
is the author of
Sweet Evil
, the first in the trilogy. She was born in Alaska, grew up an Army brat, and lived on five different military bases across the US, finally settling in the Washington, DC, area. She attended George Mason University for her undergraduate degree in Creative Writing, and Radford University for a Masters in Curriculum and Instruction. A former high school English teacher, Wendy was active in VATE (Virginia Association of Teachers of English). She lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two children. You can visit her online at www.wendyhigginswrites.com.

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