Chapter 1
Meeting Grey
“You should’ve turned right on Winchester Drive.” Irritation colored Mom’s voice. “Then we wouldn’t be stuck behind all this traffic.”
I sighed from the back seat of the car.
My parents were bickering up front. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, given they’d separated when I was ten and expedited the divorce to complete it within a year. I was simply used to parents fighting. I felt them join me in my glare toward the long drop-off line winding up the narrow road of the college campus.
“Winchester Drive is closed,” my dad said, clearly at the end of his patience.
“How do you know?” Mom demanded.
“There were signs all over the road back there. They redirected traffic this way.”
“I didn’t see any signs,” Mom insisted.
My parents never could admit to each other when they were wrong. I was certain that, given another ten years, my mom would still insist there hadn’t been a sign, and even if there had been, it wasn’t her fault for getting frustrated because the phone giving her directions had lied to her. Likewise, my dad would probably go to his grave telling anyone who would listen aboutjust how many signs there had been on the road, and even if there hadn’t been, it wasn’t his fault that he’d thought he’d seen them when so much else was going on. As the driver, he was supposed to keep everyone safe and not risk misjudging a wrong turn, wasn’t he?
To be fair, I had great parents, despite their animosity toward each other. They’d both made it a point to show up to every major and minor event of my childhood—every birthday, sporting event, band concert, poetry recital, everything. They’d even come to the shitty local play I’d auditioned for in high school just to impress some girl—something that hadn’t worked and that I deeply regretted afterward—even if I had only played the part of a tree.
I wasn’t entirely sure why, but they seemed hell-bent on being the picture-perfect parents. Maybe they felt guilty for getting divorced when I was so young. Or knowing them, they both simply refused to be seen as the bad guy in the situation, so they stubbornly supported me instead of being the one who slipped up. Whatever their reasons, they backed me to such an extent that they both insisted on dropping me off at college, which meant we all lost, as I was stuck in the back of my dad’s car listening to my mom spit out directions in an increasingly irritated tone.
We’re almost there,I reminded myself. Technically, we were “there” since we were on campus already, but my parents usually insisted on seeing me to the front door of my dorm. I didn’t think I could take it again this year.
The beginning of my junior year of college—the idea both excited and terrified me. I was excited to get to the next stage of my life—whatever that would be. All I really knew was that I wanted to be a writer. That was what I was going to school for anyway. And once I had my degree, I would move to a big city and make my dreams come true. I was terrified because I didn’tknow what the hell I was doing. Despite those dreams being so close in theory, they felt insurmountably far away in practice. I still felt like the awkward kid who’d walked into the wrong classroom my first day of freshman year. I might’ve grown older, but I was certainly no wiser—just a child who could legally drink since turning twenty-one this past spring.
Somehow, I felt like the past two years had gone by in one huge blur, and I had to say, I hadn’t done as much as I’d wanted. Sure my grades were awesome, but I’d pretty much failed in all social aspects. My only friends were my roommates, Josh and Kellan, and while we went out from time to time to a bar or small kickback, we never reallypartied. Which was why, rather than dwell on my impending future, I’d made a plan over the summer to make the most of the upcoming years before graduation. It was a pretty straightforward plan: One, go to more parties; two, make more friends; three, date more girls. Starting this year, I would change my introverted ways. I would be fun and outgoing.
The car pulled to a stop at the back of a line of vehicles that wrapped around to the front of the student housing. It was only then that I noticed Mom and Dad had started arguing again.
“… could’ve been here half an hour ago, if you hadn’t—”
“I can get out here,” I said, breaking into the conversation.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to help you get settled in your place, Ethan?” Mom asked, her tone gentler the instant she started speaking to me instead of Dad.
I only had a few suitcases. “Getting settled” would take me five seconds to do alone—and would save us all a great deal of grief. “I think I’ll manage.” I smiled wryly. “Love you guys.”
Getting out of the car, I collected my stuff and waved my parents off. I didn’t relax until I saw the car zip down the drive, away from the university. Dad drove with a heavy foot now that I no longer provided a buffer between him and my mom from the back seat. Exhaling a sigh of relief, I headed toward my dorm.
I’d hardly made it two steps before some girl with mousy-brown hair stepped up to me, excitedly shoving a piece of paper into my hand.
“Dreamscape concert is tonight!” she squealed. “Don’t miss it!”
Before I could ask a single clarifying question, she was gone, chasing down new victims. I glanced down at the flyer in my hand. It was a poster showcasing four guys and the wordDreamscapeplastered across their chests. The lead singer was easy to identify because he stood slightly in front of the other three members, his gaze bursting from the page and seeming to reach into my soul.
“Seven p.m. at Lucky Charlie’s Bar,” I read aloud and bunched the paper in my hand, walking to the dorm office to grab my key. Maybe the guys would want to find something to do for the night.
I dragged my luggage the rest of the way to the apartment building, up three flights of stairs because the elevators were too crowded, and down a hallway before coming to a stop in front of the door to my home for the next several months.
Inside, my roommates had already made themselves at home. Kellan sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone while Josh was busy playing the PlayStation on the TV.
“Look who decided to show up.” Kellan grinned at me from behind his phone. He had buzz-cut brown hair, green eyes, and arms that said the weights in the corner of the room weren’t there for decoration. He was an easygoing guy—I was pretty sure I’d never seen him angry—he was quick to smile, and no matter how stressed Josh or I got about school and insisted the sky was falling, he would steadily assure us everything would be fine.
“You know me.” I set my stuff down. “I like to arrive fashionably late.”
Josh threw a quick glance my way. “I’m surprised your parents didn’t walk you up.” He was the typical blond-haired, blue-eyed nerdy guy with a side part and round-rimmed glasses. It was almost surprising to see him playing video games, but I supposed the semester hadn’t started yet. Once it did, I doubted I would find his nose out of a book very often.
