Unforgiven (6 page)

Cam stared at her until a shiver ran across her skin. Lilith felt her face flush; she couldn't tell whether she was embarrassed or angry. She realized what he was doing, trying to soften her by talking about music. Did he think she was so easy to play? She felt another inexplicable surge of fury. She
hated
this boy.

He pulled a black object the size of a single-serving cereal box from his bag and placed it on Lilith's desk.

“What's that?” she asked.

Cam shook his head. “I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask that. It's a miniature guitar amp.”

She nodded, like
of course.
“I've just never seen one so, um…”

“Square?” Cam prompted. “All we need is a guitar to plug it into.”

“Burroughs will be back in fifteen minutes,” Lilith said, glancing at the clock. “Twelve. I don't know how detention works where you come from, but around here, you don't get to play guitar.”

Cam was the new kid, yet he strode in here like he owned the place. Lilith was the one who'd been stuck here all her life, who knew how things worked and how crappy this school was, so Cam could just back off.

“Twelve minutes, huh?” He threw the mini amp back into his bag, stood up, and held out his hand. “We'd better hurry.”

“I'm not going with you—” Lilith protested as she let him drag her out the door. Then they were in the hallway, where it was quiet, so she shut up. She looked down at his hand in hers for a second before jerking away.

“See how easy that was?” Cam asked.

“Don't touch me ever again.”

The words seemed to punch Cam in the gut. He frowned, then said, “Follow me.”

Lilith knew she should go back to detention, but she liked the idea of a little mischief—even if she didn't like her partner in crime.

Grumbling, she followed Cam, keeping close to the wall, as if she could blend in with the student-made posters supporting Trumbull's terrible basketball team. Cam pulled a Sharpie from his bag and added the letters
HIT
to the end of a message that stated
GO BULLS!

Lilith was surprised.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “Once you go bullshit, you never go back.”

On the second floor, they came to a door marked
BAND ROOM.
For someone who had only been here a day, Cam sure seemed to know his way around. He reached for the knob.

“What if someone's in there?” Lilith asked.

“Band meets first period. I checked.”

Someone
was
in there. Jean Rah was a half-French, half-Korean boy who, like Lilith, was a social pariah. They should have been friends: like her, he was obsessed with music, he was mean, he was weird. But they weren't friends. Lilith wished Jean Rah would permanently evaporate, and she could see in his eyes that he wished the same about her.

Jean looked up from a drum kit, where he was tuning the snare. He could play every instrument there was. “Get out,” he said. “Or I'll page Mr. Mobley.”

Cam grinned. Lilith could tell Cam instantly liked this scowling kid with his Buddy Holly glasses, which made her hate them both even more.

“Do you guys know each other?” Cam asked.

“I make it a point not to know him,” Lilith said.

“I'm unknowable,” Jean said, “to idiots like you.”

“Talk crap and get the crap beaten out of you,” Lilith said, glad to have a target for her anger. Her body tensed, and the next thing she knew she was lunging at Jean—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cam said, catching her by the waist.

She writhed against the strong arms restraining her, not knowing which boy she wanted to hit first. Cam had gotten her all riled up, interrupting a peaceful detention hour, bringing her here….And that wink. She got pissed off all over again thinking about the way he'd winked at her.

“Let. Me. Go,” she seethed.

“Lilith,” Cam said quietly. “Everything's cool.”

“Shut up,” she said, yanking herself away. “I don't want your help, or your pity, or whatever it is you're trying to do.”

Cam shook his head. “I'm not—”

“Yes, you are,” Lilith said. “And you'd better stop.”

Her palm itched to slap Cam. Not even his expression, which was an unsettling mixture of confusion and hurt, eased her feelings. The only reason she didn't hit him was that Jean was watching.

“Uhh…” Jean raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lilith, then Cam. “You two are kind of wigging me out. I'm calling Mobley.”

“Go ahead,” Lilith snapped. “Do it.”

But the boy was so shocked that he stayed put.

Lilith's first instinct was to leave the band room immediately, yet—oddly—she found herself wanting to stay. She didn't know why she'd never come in here before. It felt comforting to be surrounded by instruments. Even though they weren't fancy instruments—the trumpets were dented, the drum skins were worn so thin they were translucent, the metal triangles were coated with rust—nothing else at this school was even half as intriguing.

A gentle smirk crossed Cam's face. “I'm getting an idea.”

“Probably a first for you,” said Jean.

“Forgive us if we're not impressed,” Lilith said, surprised to find herself siding with Jean.

“You guys share a common enemy,” Cam stated.

Lilith snorted. “You pick up on people's hatred of you quickly. That was what, ten minutes?”

“Not me,” Cam said. “I mean the school. The town.” He paused. “The world.”

Lilith couldn't decide if Cam was wise or a cliché. “What's your point?”

“Why don't you combine forces and channel your rage?” Cam said. He handed Lilith a guitar from a stand and put his hand on Jean's shoulder. “Lilith and I are starting a band.”

“We are not,” Lilith said. What was
with
this guy?

“We are too,” Cam said to Jean as if it was already a done deal. “Prom's in fifteen days, and we need a drummer if we're going to win the Battle of the Bands.”

“What's your band name?” Jean asked skeptically.

Cam winked at Lilith.
Again.
“The Devil's Business.”

Lilith groaned. “There is no way I'd ever be in a band called The Devil's Business. Any band I start is going to be called Revenge.”

She hadn't meant to say any of that. It was true, she'd kept that band name like a secret for ages, ever since she'd decided that the best way to get revenge on all the jerks at school would be to get famous and have an actual band with legit musicians and never be seen by anyone from Crossroads again, except for the sold-out shows they'd have to stream online because her band would never, ever play her hometown.

But she'd never planned on saying the name out loud
.

Cam's eyes widened. “A band with that name's gonna need a big-ass synthesizer. And a disco ball.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. “I'd love to synthesize the shit out of this school,” he said after a moment. “I'm in.”

“I'm not,” Lilith said.

Cam smiled at Lilith. “She's in.”

Smile back, Lilith.
Other girls would have mirrored his expression, but Lilith wasn't like any other girl she knew. A thick ball of rage settled in her stomach, pulsing at Cam's smugness, his certainty. She scowled and left the band room without another word.

“I'm starving,” Cam said as he followed her out of school.

They had made it back to detention in time to switch the intercom back on just before Burroughs did his final room sweep. She'd turned in her exam, mostly blank, and they'd both been excused.

Why wouldn't Cam leave her alone?

In his right hand swung a guitar case he had borrowed from the band room. His canvas bag was over his shoulder.

“Where do you like to eat around here?”

Lilith shrugged. “A nice little spot called
none of your business.
”

“Sounds exotic,” Cam said. “Where is it?” As they walked, his smooth fingertips grazed Lilith's calloused ones. She pulled away swiftly, instinctively, with a look that said if that hadn't been an accident, he'd better not try it again.

“I'm going that way.” She pointed in the direction of Rattlesnake Creek, wishing she hadn't just divulged her plan. She wasn't suggesting he join her.

But that was exactly what Cam did.

At the edge of the woods, he held aside a carob branch so she could duck underneath. Lilith watched him study the branch, as if he'd never seen this kind of tree before.

“Don't they have carobs where you're from?” she asked. They were everywhere in Crossroads.

“Yes and no,” Cam said.

He muttered something under his breath as she made her way to her tree. She sat down and watched the water trickle over the rocks jutting up from the creek bed. A moment later, Cam joined her.

“Where
are
you from?” she asked.

“Around?” Cam reached between the crooked branches where Lilith stashed her guitar. Sometimes she came here and played when she cut lunch; it helped her to not think about how hungry she was.

“Mysterious?” she said, mimicking his tone and taking the guitar from him.

“Not as cool as it sounds,” Cam said. “Last night I slept in the doorway of a TV repair shop.”

“O'Malley's on Hill Street?” Lilith said, tuning her high E string. “That's weird. I slept there once when I was grounded and had to get away from Janet.” She felt his eyes on her, yearning for her to elaborate. “Janet is my mom.” But that was a dead-end topic, so she changed the subject. “How'd you end up here?”

Cam's jaw tensed, and a vein appeared on his forehead, between his eyes. It was clearly the last thing he wanted to discuss, which made Lilith suspicious. He was hiding something, just like she was.

“Enough
Behind the Music.
” Cam opened the guitar case he'd lifted from the band room and took out a green Fender Jaguar, property of Trumbull Prep. “Let's play something.”