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“So, everything is ready?” I asked again, and this time my eyes locked on Erik's. Out of everyone, he’d had the hardest job. Well, the hardest except for me.
“Yes, Dion, Lola and Isla had a nice little chat and she's here.” He didn't bother to mention that she would have been here anyway. It was her first day at work after all.
“In fact.” He smirked in my general direction. “If you look there now, she should be leading her class out at any second.”
The words had barely left his mouth before I opened the door a crack. And there she was. Lola.
Muse, lover, damn wife to be.
All her blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail that looked seductive and innocent all at the same time. It was so perfectly Lola. The ultimate mix of hot girl next door. It was my kryptonite.
She looked different, professional, but still the girl I had fallen for. I sighed before I could help myself. Now she was here, things were about to get real, very quickly.
The nerves come back with a bang. It wasn't the fear of performing. It was fear of her rejection. Even when everyone told me it wasn't going to happen, I couldn't help but fear the worst.
“Relax.” Jax was there, squeezing my shoulder. “Lola will say yes. She's crazy about you. Just look at me and Elodie.” He chuckled. “I got the girl and I'm not even sure I like her.” Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed Elodie with a leer.
In answer, she stuck her tongue out. “I'm not sure I like you either, asshole.”
“Language,” Tate scolded with a laugh. “Think about all those impressionable young ears.”
Erik rolled his eyes. “And talking about language, do you really think your opening song choice is appropriate?”
“It's perfect.”
“Fine, but please don't mess up and start dropping f–”
“Chucks all the way,” I laughed. “I know. I won't mess up the lyrics, don't worry. The speaking bit maybe. But not the songs.”
“Well, that's good, because you're about to go on.” Isla gave me a watery smile as the principal's loud voice filtered through the door towards us. He was giving the assembly speech we had prepared for him. Which meant it was show time.
“Go and get your woman, Dion.”
* * *
A hush fell over the children and staff, and it was deafening. The others filed out past me. You could have heard a pin drop, so the sudden throb of Louis’ drums seemed impossibly loud. It echoed around the cavernous room.
And it filled me with a courage I didn't deserve as I stepped out of the doorway and brought the mic up to my lips. My voice didn't break. It didn't even quiver as I made my way around the edge of the cross–legged children sitting on the parquet flooring.
I walked to the very front of my band, belting out Van Halen’sHot for Teacher.And it was only when I'd come to a stop and faced them all that I let my eyes find hers.
Lola was sitting on one of those hard plastic school chairs with her mouth open. The moment she had seen the band come out and begin to play, she must have known something was going on, but the absolute shock on her face was exactly what I wanted.
“What is going on?” I saw her mouth, but her words were lost under mine.
My band played, and I sang, my eyes never leaving her startled face through one verse and chorus, and then silence fell again. It was barely seconds before the applause started.
I’d played gigs in front of thousands, tens of thousands, but hearing the kids go wild at our feet was a new kind of high. A short–lived one, as I stared at Lola who hadn’t risen from her chair.
“Hey,” I said and then repeated myself when the kids failed to settle down. They were a rowdy bunch, that was for sure. There was a boy in the back that looked so giddy with excitement that he might faint. I smiled at him, pumping his fist up and down enthusiastically. Making a mental note to get someone to seek him out and give him an autograph or something, my attention went back to what I had to do.
“Hey, calm down a second, hey,” I tried again. I didn't know how to talk to kids. Usually, when I opened my mouth, people shut up and listened. Groaning under my breath, I watched as several teachers, Lola included, got off their seats and tried to settle the now hyperactive kids down.
“Oi!” Louis called from behind the electric drum kit he dwarfed. “Shut up and settle down for a minute.”
I threw him a look, rolling my eyes. Talk about taking charge. At least he didn't swear at them.
“Hey everyone.” I raised my hand in a small wave. “I'm Dion Granger. I'm lead singer of–”
