Love to Hate You

Chapter Seventeen

“Can I help you?” I ask, no longer crabby at the world now that exams are done for the day but still feeling as sassy as ever.

He bites he lip, pulling me closer and ducking his head down. If he’s trying to seduce me, it’s not working. It just doesn’t work in front of the guys. Want to know why? I can feel every one of their eyes watching us.

“Not trying to ruin whatever mood you think you’ve got going on,” I whisper, and his face breaks out into a laughing smirk, “but,” I continue, “we’ve got an audience—plus, this is sort of random.”

“Sorry, “he mutters back lowly, hugging me closer, “I’m just proud that you didn’t give Laney a black eye today.”

I scoff, and push him back as he chuckles deeply in the back of his throat. “Not funny,” I warn him, biting down a smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs sincerely and moves in to press his lips to mine gently, maybe even carefully. Why he feels the need to be so incredibly soft, I don’t know, but it’s nice. It’s a sweet moment when all a person can really do is just savor it, close their eyes and let the rush of butterflies flutter inside them. I don’t realize how long we’ve been like this—sentimental and enjoying pure bliss—until Alex decides to cough not so subtly.

Justin pulls back slowly and winks at me before turning to sling his guitar over his shoulder. I follow him to stand behind the mics, still warm and tingling all over. I’m only brought out of my daze when the boys begin tuning up their instruments.

I guess I was wrong about Justin.

~*~

The only other days leading up to Wednesday go by quickly. The end of the school year has finally come. Even though my last few moments are spent hurriedly finishing exams, they go by rather smoothly and all too quickly. Which, I guess I don’t really mind. I have tonight’s gig on my mind and am finally granted the right to dismiss any thoughts about school, my finished mural, and hiding my boyfriend from my mom.

Justin insists on meeting my family right after the gig, but I refuse immediately. For the first time since I met her, I’m glad for Laney Stewart. After spending Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday’s lunch hour with her she’s decided she wants us to be friends—or at least that’s what I got from her proposal to have a sleepover at her place after the gig. She said she wants to get to know me because Sean talks so highly of me, and I seem like a good time. Now, I don’t know where she got that idea, but I accept right away, knowing that I can hold off Justin meeting my parents for just a little bit longer.

Now, I’m at Laney’s house. It wasn’t planned; she just offered to let me drop off my overnight stuff before we headed over to the gig. Her house is not what I expected. It’s small and a little cramped. Her room is half the size of mine, but cozier. Appliances in the kitchen are outdated and the TV is one of the older box sets that my parents owned back when I was a kid.

“You can just set your stuff here.” Laney smiles, motioning to the wall next to her bedroom door before she shuffles across the room and plops down onto her bed. I nod and toss my bag onto the ground. “Excited?” she asks when I look back up at her.

I snort and rub my clammy hands on my shorts, “More like nervous.” I tell her.

She shrugs and pats the space next to her. After I seat myself beside her she turns to me, getting herself more comfy and tucking her legs under her.

“You,” she asks, “nervous? What about? You never look nervous on stage.”

I sigh. It’s strange. What I’ve found out about Laney is that she actually looks up to me. She’s told me on more than one occasion that she adores my confidence. What confidence? It’s impulsiveness, not confidence. If I try to tell her so she won’t have any of it.