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Collin came sliding out of the door behind me. There was an undeniable red smear of my lipstick across his mouth. The cheers from our classmates grew louder. He ran past me and down to the beach, where he exchanged fist bumps with his fellow teammates. Savannah watched him go with a withering glare, her hands firmly planted on her hips.
It seemed that for the moment, I’d finally escaped her wrath. Despite Collin’s methods, my spot on the cheerleading team was safe.
As I retook my spot next to the bonfire, my attention wandered again toward Collin and his buddies wrestling up the next freshman to dump in the lake. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like to actually kiss him. Probably awful. Cocky guys like him were all talk and no real action. I should’ve been thanking my lucky stars we hadn’t actually done anything.
Collin must’ve felt my stare because he turned at that moment and our eyes met. He gave me a scandalous wink, which made my whole body flush once again. I glared at him and then tore my gaze away, determined never to go down that road again.
He could keep his precious reputation. I had bigger things to worry about for my senior year at Rock Valley High.
Chapter Two
It couldn’t have been normal to wake up on the first day of school already wishing for the flu to strike me down. But there I was, standing in the bathroom with the thermometer sticking out of my mouth, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror, and begging for a fever.
I’d managed to lay low the weekend after the beach party, but now there was no way of avoiding the fallout of supposedly having made out with the notorious Collin Preston. Or, even worse, the totally real possibility that he’d spread my deepest darkest secret throughout Rock Valley High. A seventeen-year-old senior who’d never been kissed? Not exactly helpful qualities for navigating the most coveted social circles at any high school.
Not only did I need to march into that school today pretending nothing devastating had happened over the weekend, but cheerleading team tryouts were being posted. It was time to find out how deeply my cousin really hated me and if she’d go so far as to keep me out of her precious team.
But all of that pain could be cut short with one vicious case of the bubonic plague. A girl could only dream. Still, when the thermometer beeped and told me once and for all that I wasn’t dying, the last flutter of hope inside me croaked.
It was time to face the wolves.
My phone dinged and I snatched it from beside the sink. I’d already been texting Mandy and Trina this morning with my laments about blurting my secret out to Collin. They were still busy texting me off a ledge. I threw myself on my purple paisley bedspread and scanned my messages.
Trina: Don’t worry, A. We still love you. And no one’s gonna judge you.
Mandy: And if they do, I’ll kick in their shins.
Me: Thanks, guys. What would I do without you?
I sighed and flipped over to my back, staring up at the posters of various music stars on my ceiling. They acted as my muses during times of trouble. Front and center was my girl, Taylor Swift, back in her big hair and country music days. She wouldn’t let some guy like Collin Preston bother her — even if he had the most beautiful face in the history of mankind and a grin that was totally kissable. Nope. She’d put all of her worry and angst into a song. That’s exactly what I would do.
I rolled over my bed and grabbed the black Gibson Hummingbird acoustic guitar sitting in its stand. It was my most prized possession. My dad had bought me my first guitar when I was two. Granted, it was plastic and the strings made of nylon, but I swear, the heavens opened up and angels sang. He taught me how to play and on my twelfth birthday, bought me the Gibson to perfect my skills.
It had been months since we’d last played together. Before he left us. Back when we were still a family.
I ran my fingertips lovingly over the steel strings and hummed a melody that immediately popped into my head. Strumming softly, I waited for the words to arrive.
You’ve got a way of making a girl like me
Wonder if she’s wrong, but if I believe
You can’t touch me, you’re gonna see
Just how wrong you can be.
I felt the words down to my core, picturing Collin’s frustrating smirk as I paired them with the perfect chords. I hadn’t been able to get the image of him out of my mind all weekend. Or the feel of his skin against mine. The only way to banish him was to get my feelings out through melody. I might not have been the most popular girl in school, or the smartest, or the prettiest. But if there was one thing in this world that I knew I was good at, it was singing and writing songs.
It was just the thing I needed to soothe my nerves. By the time I lovingly stashed my guitar back in its stand and looked up again at my alarm clock, it was nearly time to go. I ran down the stairs of our two bedroom apartment and snatched an apple from the table. Mom and my little sister Lexi were already seated at the mini breakfast bar eating.
Mom was one of those women who legit got hit on at the grocery store by random men. I couldn’t blame them. She had legs for days underneath her tight pencil skirts and a clear complexion that she doctored tirelessly with expensive creams and Botox. Her dark hair was pulled back in a flawless French twist, her high cheekbones accentuated with just a touch of blush. She worked in the fashion world as a PR consultant and I’d heard more than once that she could make or break a model’s career with the right amount of exposure.
I kissed her good morning and inhaled the scent of her floral perfume, enjoying the way it tickled my nose. As kids, my sister and I used to sneak into our parents’ bedroom just to sniff her perfume bottle. It helped on the especially bad days, when our parents would do nothing but argue.
“So, what are you two going to accomplish today?” I asked, plopping myself onto the bar seat next to her. Ever since we were tiny, Mom would ask us the same question every morning. It had become a sort of routine for us.
“Make sure my lip gloss is popping,” Lexi said, holding up a single finger. “Snag Peter Vince as my boyfriend before Miranda Lake gets to him. And let’s not forget, survive the bus ride to school since I’m the only kid in school that doesn’t get to have her own car.”
Lexi was a sophomore and in the midst of a total hormonal rage fest — at least in my mind. She’d grown nearly three inches last summer, finally displacing me as the tallest sibling. She had the same curly brown hair and brown eyes, but somehow had managed to work them to her advantage with her flawless look. I wasn’t sure where she got her frightening ability to manipulate the in-crowd at school to see her as one of them, but somehow, she had most of the younger classmen wrapped around her little finger.
