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PROLOGUE
PENELOPE
May, Sophomore Year
“I can’t believe nothing fazes him,” Jade comments as we follow the stadium attendant as she leads us toward our seats.
Since we got stuck in traffic, the opening act was already playing out on the stage, but we were finally here. I could feel the excitement buzzing under my skin.
“Henry is trained to be focused on work despite anything that might be going on around him. And he’s never been one to be distracted by loud noises. I’m not sure if that’s natural or because he’s been exposed to them when he was a puppy in training.”
“What do you mean, exposed?” Grace, my other friend, asks just as Henry comes to a stop.
“These are your seats,” the attendant says.
“Thank you so much,” I say as I flash a smile in her direction. “Henry, seat.”
We take a few more steps before Henry once again comes to a stop. I reach my hand out, making sure the space is empty before giving him the next command. “Under.” He listens to my order immediately, sliding under the chair. “Good boy,” I praise, patting him on the head as the girls take their seats. “And to answer your question, when they’re puppies, guide dogs go to a school where they go through socialization and training and are exposed to different things, including audio of things like yelling, storms, loud music… anything the puppies can encounter in real life situations, so they’d be used to it when the time comes and not put their handler in danger.”
“Wow, I knew guide dogs were smart, but this is another level,” Grace says.
“It’s just all so interesting,” Jade chimes in. “I’d never think of it on my own. You know what you should do? Videos.”
“Videos?” I repeat, unsure where she’s going with this.
“Yes, videos. You could post them on social media, show people how guide dogs work, and educate them on interesting tidbits like this.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I love Henry, and I definitely think the world would be easier to navigate as a blind person if more people were familiar with basic manners and regulations concerning guide dogs. I wasn’t sure I was the right person to do it, though.
“I could help you,” Jade suggests. “I was thinking of looking into filming and editing videos in addition to photography.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promise.
“Enough about that! Are you excited, Penny?” Rei asks, changing the subject. Her voice is loud so that she can be heard over the chatter of the crowd.
“Duh!” Jade leans over me, her elbows digging into my thighs. “She’s about to hear hercrushsing live for the very first time.”
“He’s not my crush.” My protest is weak at best, and I don’t think it’s fooling any of my friends. Neither does the blush spreading over my cheeks at their teasing. Then again, maybe they can’t notice it because it’s dark in the arena as we’re waiting for the show that’s about to start. Now that the opening act finished with their set.
“Mhmm…” No, most definitely not fooling anybody, especially not Jade. “That’s why you haven’t stopped talking about him since I told you about the tickets. Not that I can blame you. I stalked him online, anddamn, he’s one fine-looking man.”
I quirk my brow at Jade. “The way somebody looks is as useful to me as telling me to find that red sweater that’s just over there. Besides, I thought you and Prescott were finally official.”
I hope that mentioning her boyfriend, whom she had just gotten back together with after breaking up for a few months to deal with their personal demons, would sway her train of thought, but I should have known better.
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good-looking man, or a woman, for that matter, if I see one. Although, I get what you mean,” Jade sighs, pulling back. “Well, let me tell you…”
My thoughts trail off as she describes Sebastian Black to me. I don’t bother telling her I don’t need her to. I might be blind, but I wasn’t ignorant.
I’ve been following Sebastian’s career from the very beginning when he won the singing-songwriting contest, and his career took off at the young age of sixteen. Not only was he a son of an equally famous lead singer of the rock bandWrecking Havoc, but his mother was also one of the most sought-after managers in L.A.
I followed him on social media and knew all his songs. I’ve heard all about the antics he pulled and the models and singers he’s dated. I was also familiar with his rugged looks: disheveled dark hair, stubbled jaw, and strong, tattooed hands that played a woman’s body like his guitar. At least, that’s what all the reporters had to say. Not that I had a chance to experience it myself.
Not that Iwantedto experience it for myself.
Okay, maybe a teeny-tiny part of me would, but there was no way of that ever happening.
