I almost feel unseen—not on display—and I kind of like it. The song ends, and I fall into J.D., breathing hard and laughing. The fog machine and heat of so many crowded around is weighing on me, and I reach into my wrist purse and pull out my inhaler. I look around, hesitant. I usually go in the bathroom.
Screw it. Taking a puff, I see J.D. do a double take, but he only looks surprised as I take another one and try to inhale.
“You okay?”
I nod, giving him a thumbs up. “I’m fine.”
I slip the inhaler back into my purse and let him come in close. He places his hands on my waist as we slow dance.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” someone says.
I turn around and lock eyes with Lyla and Katelyn, who are glaring as everyone dances around us.
Lyla’s arms are folded over her hot pink dress. “It’s almost too precious for words,” she muses.
Katelyn smirks behind her, and I drop my head forward, faking a snore. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I pop my head up, looking at J.D. “I fell asleep. What happened?”
He chuckles.
In all honesty, though, I deserve Lyla’s animosity. I wasn’t a good friend. But with her, I’m not sure anyone can be.
I notice Trey lumbering toward her from behind and watch as he falls on her, draping his arms over her. His eyes are hooded, and he can barely stand.
“Hey, how goes it?” he slurs, gesturing between J.D. and me. “You, too, huh? You skip around pretty fast, girl. I like it.”
Oh, please. I turn away from him but not before I see Lyla trying to shrug him off.
“Come on,” he calls behind me, “friends share, J.D. You take mine for a spin, and I’ll take yours.”
Trey grabs my arm, but J.D. knocks him off. “Stay away from her.”
Trey comes in again, but I steel every muscle inside me. “Enough!”
But just then, a voice rings out, and I stop.
“Thanks for letting us intrude, everyone,” Misha says, and I blink, realizing the music has stopped.
Tearing my eyes away from Trey, I look up on stage and see Misha standing at the microphone. He’s still wearing his suit, but he has a guitar draped in front of him, and we meet each other’s eyes as a small smile dances in his.
I take a step, drawn in.
“We’re Cipher Core, and this is dedicated to the cheerleader,” he says.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I notice his band mates on stage, the same guys with him in the YouTube video I saw.
“Hey, it’s Masen,” J.D. says, mumbling. “I mean, Misha.”
The drums count off, the beat starts, and the guitars lead in, creating a fast and hard but soulful tune. Misha’s voice drifts in slow and haunting but quickly picks up pace.
Anything goes when everyone knows
Where do you hide when their highs are your lows?
So much, so hard, so long, so tired,
Let them eat until you’re ground into nothing.
Don’t you worry your glossy little lips.
What they savor ‘ventually loses it’s flavor.
I wanna lick, while you still taste like you.
Bookmark it, says the cheerleader
I promise we’ll come back to this spot.
I have shit to do first. You won’t wait a lot.
I can’t make her stay,
and I can’t watch her go.
I’ll keep her hellfire heart,
And bookmark it ‘fore it goes cold.
Fifty-seven times I didn’t call
Fifty-seven letters I didn’t send,
Fifty-seven stitches to breathe again, and then I fucking pretend.
Fifty-seven days to not need you
Fifty-seven times to give up on you
Fifty-seven steps away from you,
Fifty-seven nights of nothing but you.
His eyes are closed, and his face is so beautiful. Everything inside me is crumbling, because it’s the most perfect song I’ve ever heard, and I want him to keep going.
When did he write that? When we were fighting? Before we met?
A chaperone walks on stage after the song ends and cocks her head disapprovingly at the band. They smile and take off their instruments, quickly getting out of there, because while they may have had permission to perform a song, they probably didn’t have permission to say a few of the words that were in those lyrics.
I laugh as Dane takes a dramatic bow and the crowd cheers. I don’t even know what just happened. Were people dancing? Where’s Trey and Lyla? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Misha hands off his guitar to one of the guys, and I inch forward through the crowd, waiting for him to come to me. He hops down off the stage as the other band takes over again and starts playing.
He comes up and wraps his arms around me under my ass and lifts me up. I laugh even though tears wet my face.
I touch his cheek, looking down at him. “I didn’t want to cry.”
“A lot of your words are in those lyrics,” he tells me. “We do more than a few things really well together, you know?”
“Good and bad.”
He stretches his neck up, brushing my lips. “And I want it all.”
I kiss him, everyone else forgotten. So that was 57. He’d sent me pieces of the song in the past year, but I’d never heard the whole thing.
“I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m ready to leave as soon as you are, so keep me posted.”
“I’m ready.”
He smiles and sets me down. “Let’s go have some fun.”
He takes my hand, and we walk through the crowd of dancers, running into J.D. as we pass the food tables.
“Where are you guys going?” he asks.