The Stars Will Shine (22 page)

When the final note of their final song fades to silence, no one in the crowd moves. I look around at all the faces, and people appear to be literally stunned silent. Then slowly, someone begins to clap, and more and more start to join in until the applause from this little crowd inside our shop is almost deafening. Someone whistles; someone else hollers praises; everyone regards them like they’re looking upon gods.

“Um,” Aiden hums into the microphone, seemingly dazed. “We haven’t recorded an album yet, so there’s nothing for you to buy at the back. But we will be back playing here as often as we can, so keep a lookout for the fliers every few weeks.”

Another explosion of applause ensues.

Aiden laughs and rakes a hand through his hair. His midnight blue guitar still hangs from his neck, looking in every sense like it’s a part of him, an extension of his body he can’t live without.

“We hope to see some of you at the after party. 163 W. Hapershire Rd…Starts pretty much now.” The girls up front squeal and Aiden tosses his pick to them. “We’re Father’s Secret…Have a good night, you guys!” With a short wave, he turns around and begins packing up, and the crowd thrums with energy and excitement as they start to leave. It’s evident most of them are heading over to that party.

But I still haven’t decided whether I’m going.

Chapter Fifteen

It feels like I’m in a funhouse. There are too many mirrors in this place; the walls are moving; the floor is tilting. I trip sideways over myself as I make my way down the hallway toward the bathroom. I need to get away from the clutter of empty plastic cups and spilled beer, from the cluster of people dancing and making out and screaming drunkenly. I need space to breathe, space to think for a second. God knows my brain is just a fuzzy mess right now.

I push past a drunk couple sucking face in front of the bathroom.

“Hey!” the girl yells, then slurs, “Watch where you’re walking, bitc—” before the guy plunges his tongue into her mouth once more and she’s long forgotten about putting me in my place. I shut the bathroom door behind me and press my back against it, letting my eyes fall closed. From in here, the EDM music from the living room is muted, but the bass still punches through me. I let it hit me over and over again before I open my eyes and look right into the mirror. Its golden antique frame vibrates with the bass, and for a moment the lights above me waver. But I know it’s just my own vision, flickering in and out.

I move forward and press my hands to the vanity. My fingers curl over the edge of the porcelain sink as I hang my head and lift my eyes toward the mirror. My dark hair dangles in front of a ghostly pale face, one I almost don’t even recognize, and as I look into my eyes, as blue as a hot flame, I feel like a girl in a horror film about to have her throat slit from behind, her blood spattered across the mirror and the shower curtain, just another expendable character in the movie of life. I feel like I’m slipping away to some parallel universe. A part of me wants it to be whatever place Aiden was looking into when he sang tonight. That way he’d be seeing me with that other worldly look in his eyes, and not the violinist from Outside the Law, who is hanging on his arm right now.

“Jesus,” I mutter, hating myself for how I feel. “Snap the fuck out of it Delilah.” I bang my hand on the vanity’s surface, which rattles a drop of water from the faucet.
You’re just drunk and empty inside and looking for someone to fill you up. You don’t care if it’s him or if it’s somebody else. Remember, you’re the one that pushed him away.

I shake my head at myself and pull away, wobbling backward as I reach behind me for the door handle. When I open the door, the kissing couple stumbles in and takes me down to the floor with them in an ungraceful fall. They don’t even notice, just keep going at each other, while I untangle myself from their limbs and grip the doorjamb with my arms to pull myself to my feet.

I don’t want to see Aiden, but when I get back to the crowded living room, my eyes immediately seek him out. He’s still standing in that far corner, leaning into the wall, all casual and comfortable, while that girl gets close to him, brings her cheek right to his and says something into his ear that makes them both laugh. She’s so, I don’t know, innocent-looking. Sweet and bright-eyed and shining with health and youthfulness. Exactly like Aiden. Exactly like someone Aiden should be with.

I frown down at my empty hands, my fingers curling inward, and nearly tip over to the side. I’m caught and stayed by steady hands.

“You okay?” a male voice asks with a small laugh. “Do you want to sit somewhere?” His voice has a very slight accent to it.

I push my hair from my face and turn to get a look at him. People move all around the room in a blur, and my eyes have a hard time focusing on his face, but I squint at him and manage to make out all dark features.

He takes my hand with both of his and says, “I’m José.”

“Delilah,” I say, jerking my hand from his. He laughs again.

“Chill,
muchacha
. Do you need some water?”

I make a face at him. “No, I don’t need water.” But he gives me a knowing look and disappears. He’s back before I know it, an unopened bottle of water in his outstretched hand.

“Take it,” he says. “You really should hydrate yourself with as much as you’ve been drinking.” I cross my arms at him, but he goes on. “From the few times I’ve seen you tonight, I can say with certainty that you’ve had at least seven shots. Who’s to say you haven’t had double that, total?”

Reluctantly I take the bottle and unscrew the cap. He wipes the condensation from his palms on his blue jeans. Eyeing him with a defiant expression, I take a long swig then screw the lid back on and stare out over the dancing bodies in the room.

“You’ve been watching me?”
What a creep.

“You’re a beautiful girl. It’s hard not to.”

I scowl at him just as the song over the speakers abruptly cuts to a hardcore techno one and the lights go out. Everyone around me cheers; the high-pitched sounds slice through my head, and I cover my ears with a groan. A second later, a guy enters the room, waving neon sticks and necklaces.

“It’s rave time!” he shouts, and everyone cheers again. “Hands up everybody!”

As all other hands lift in the air, José’s wraps softly around mine, and he says in my ear, “Let’s get out of this room,” just as the guy with the rave accessories begins throwing them out into the crowd. People scramble and fall over each other to catch them while I let José lead me away.

We find ourselves in a shadowed hallway with a few other people. A group of four guys sit at the far end, cross-legged in a circle around a bong. José stops us a ways from them and leans against the wall opposite me.

“It’s a little quieter back here,” he says. “I couldn’t even hear myself think in that room.”

I just nod and sip at the water some more.

“So, are you here with someone?” he ventures.

I groan a little. “My dud cousin and his dud best friend.”

José laughs. He seems to find me amusing for some reason, and I don’t really know why.

He probes, “Do they happen to be those guys that played the second show tonight?” I feel for the wall behind me and lean back into it without answering. “I only ask,” he says, pushing off the other wall and coming across to stand next to me, “because I saw you leave the record store with them to come here. I thought maybe one of them was your boyfriend or something.”

“Nope,” I say with a loud pop of my lips. “No boyfriend.”

“Hmm.”

I bite my thumb nail and peek at him. “Does that mean you’ll make out with me?”

He steps closer and pulls my thumb away from my teeth. “Only if you want me to.”

We stare at each other for only a few seconds, and then I twist toward him, and he takes me by my waist, fitting me against the shape of his body. He’s an attractive guy, at least from what I can tell in my not-so-sober state. I glide my fingers along his jaw, absorbing the softness of his freshly shaven face with my fingertips.

He bends to meet my mouth with his. And while the kiss is something both sweet and fervent, it’s nothing like kissing Aiden. I find myself pushing closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, trying to climb into his body just to search for that feeling.

We make out for a few minutes before someone interrupts us.

“You know,” the intruder says, “I really think you enjoy kissing me more.”

I pull away from José, and snap my head to Aiden. He stands a little ways down the hall, looking at me with his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look angry…or hurt, really, I don’t think. Just…meditative.

“Go away, Aiden.” I turn back to José and grab his face with my hands. He gladly kisses me again, a little more eagerly this time as if trying to prove to Aiden that he and I can have passion, too. It makes me want to pull away, but instead I push harder against him. I don’t even catch the moans and groans José is making; my ears are completely tuned to Aiden. I hear him come closer to stand right next to me.

“I think we should be together,” he says. “Exclusively.”

I break the kiss with José only long enough to gasp out, “I don’t.”

“I know,” Aiden says with a sigh. “You’ve already told me that.”

“Man, just leave us alone,” José says, annoyed. He waves his hand between his chest and mine. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“And she’s kind of wasted,” Aiden replies shortly, a steeliness to his tone.

I make a face at him, irritated that he thinks he can barge in and take control here. “Why don’t you go back to that—that violinist you’re so keen for?” I drawl, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe she’ll be up for the whole relationship package you’re looking for.” Aiden frowns at me when he catches my gaze, and my heart drops a little in my chest.

“I’m not interested in her like that,” he says. “Anyway, look, Dylan can hardly walk right now, he’s so drunk. And so are you. So, I think it’s time we get you guys home.”

“You just want me to stop kissing José,” I say, smirking at him.

Aiden cocks his head with a shameless shrug. “Yeah, that too. Now, c’mon.” He takes hold of my arm and pulls me away. José reaches for me, but I evade him.

I sloppily hum the melody to the electronic song that blasts from the living room as Aiden leads me toward it again. “I like your hand,” I say to him at some point. The words just come out without a second thought. Time feels like it’s blurring together and all out of place. How long ago was I even kissing José? “The calluses on your fingertips are sexy.” I nearly fall to my knees as my legs turn noodly, but Aiden catches me. “Mmm, you do some wicked stuff with those fingers,” I murmur, burying my face in his neck as he steadies me on my feet. He pulls away a little and peeks down at me with vaulted brows. I wink at him, or at least I think I do, and he turns away with a faint smile before tugging me along again.

When we get to the living room, Aiden sits me down on the end of a sofa. The other end is currently occupied by a guy and two girls pretty much having a threesome out in the open. Okay, all their clothes are still on, but they’re doing things with their hands and bodies that are far from innocent. I lean into the armrest and drop my head to my arm. The music beats into me and drives the alcohol deeper into my blood. I close my eyes against the feeling and pray that Aiden returns soon.

It feels like a half an hour passes before he does, with Dylan in tow. It’s true, Dylan can barely walk; Aiden is practically giving him a piggyback ride, while Dylan alternately flops his feet against the ground.

“Can you walk alright?” Aiden asks me, and I nod, which is a complete lie. But what else am I going to do? Hop onto Dylan’s back and have Aiden haul the both of us?

Aiden and Dylan are already twenty feet in front of me, almost to the front door, and I’m still just trying to get to my feet when I take a tumble and hit the floor with all fours. A part of me knows my red dress, which is short to begin with, is riding up, giving the room a nice view of my black lace thong, but most of me doesn’t care right now. I try to stand again, but I’m too off-balanced.

Right on cue, fingers curl around my waist and help me up. I’m about to thank whoever it is when I feel those same fingers drop to the bare skin on the backs of my thighs and hot breath come over my ear.

“That’s a sweet ass you have, baby,” a deep voice speaks. The guy’s fingers move up further until they’re under my dress, pinching my ass. I smack them away, but he chuckles low in my ear and presses up against my back. I try to move forward, but he holds my arms so that I’m pinned against him. Suddenly, I’m in a panic. Sweat gathers quickly on my neck and forehead. People dance all around us, completely oblivious, and the music is so loud that I don’t think anyone would hear me cry for help. Frantic, I look around for Aiden, but he’s nowhere in sight.

“Let me go,” I say, but the demand is smothered by the song. The guy starts to move behind me, tries to get me to dance with him by taking hold of my hips and pulling my butt harder to his crotch. “I don’t want to dance. Let me go.” I shove him with my hands, but I can’t get enough strength in my arms to make him budge.

I can’t breathe. I can’t see anything but shadows and colored lights and bodies blurring with motion all around me.