Star Struck (3 page)

She takes the paper from my fingers, her gaze lingering on my face for a minute. I can see what Ryker sees in her. Her beauty is so natural and pure, very unlike the girls we meet at our show
s, which is just another reason I can’t let her join the band. This life will eat her alive.

I glance around the room. "You guys stay out for this. This is just going to be me and Star." As I walk back to my guitar, I try not to notice the slight flush of Star’s cheeks or the way her eyes li
ght up at my words.

I strum my guitar and start to sing. When I get to the chorus, I can hear Star’s voice mingle with mine.

You’re just one more thing I can’t have

Standing just outside my grasp

But it doesn’t really matter

Because good things never last

Our voices blend perfectly, weaving in and out of each other like we were meant to sing together. I shift uncomfortably, pulling the strap of my guitar away from my neck. I feel like I’m being strangled. I just can’t do this. There’s no way this girl can join our band.

"I'm sorry," I say to her. "I'm just not sure if this is gonna work out. But thanks for stopping by." Then I turn away so I don’t have to see the disappointed look in her eyes. After she races out of the garage, Ryker turns to me with a glare.

“What?” I dare Ryker to tell me what he’s thinking.

But he doesn’t respond.
Instead, he just shakes his head and takes off after the girl. Man, he really must want to get in that chick’s pants.  The other guys share a disgusted look, causing me to grunt and turn away. It’s not like I meant to hurt the girl’s feelings. The whole thing was Ryker’s fault. He had to know how this would end when he brought her here. I glance up to see Star jump into her vehicle and turn on the engine. As she pulls away from the curb, her gaze locks with mine. Her face brings back another unwelcome recollection, and a wave of emotion crashes over me. As she drives away, I know I did the right thing. I may not have been able to save the girl who meant everything to me once upon a time, but at least I can save this one. Maybe this is some sort of redemption.

As Ryker stalks back into the garage, I think about what a silly thought that is. Redempt
ion isn’t real. We don’t get to right our wrongs that way. If only things were that simple.

“What’s
with you, man?” Ryker towers over me, his eyes dark. “She was amazing, and you totally shot her down. Is your ego really that fragile?”

Anger sparks. “This has nothing to do with my ego and you know it.” I take a step forward practically bumping Ryker with my chest.

“Okay, calm down you guys,” Our electric guitar player Pierce says, moving away from his instrument. Both he and our drummer Jimmy head in our direction.

I back off, nodding to them. “Everything’s fine.” You’d think Jimmy and Pierce would be used to Ryker and me getting into arguments. Ryker
is like a brother to me. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and we fight just like siblings.

“Is it because she’s not the kind of girl you’re into?”

“You know that’s not why, Ryker.” I cock my head to the side, irritated that he’s making me say it. “You don’t think Star resembles someone else? Someone close to me?”

Ryker furrows his brows in a look of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I open my mouth ready to the say the name when Ryker’s eyes spring open in understanding.

“She doesn’t look exactly like he
r,” he says, using an apologetic tone. “There’s just a slight resemblance.”

“Slight resemblance?”

“Yeah, they both have brown hair and eyes, but that’s about it.”

“That’s not it, Ryker. She’s just like Quinn.” I can hear the slight intake of breath on Ryker’s part, and I know he’s surprised when I say her name. I don’t mention her that often. Only when it’s necessary. “And that’s why she’s not joining our band.”

“That’s what this is about? C’mon, man, she’s not Quinn. She’s not going to make the same mistakes as her.”

“You don’t know that.” I run my hand through my hair and release a rush of air through gritted teeth. “She was innocent just like her. You might be okay with tainting her, but I’m not.”

“We’re not tainting anyone. We’re just playing music.” Ryker laughs bitterly. “Dude, we’re the tamest band around. And you saw her, man. She’s talented. If we don’t pick her up another band will. And I bet they’ll mess her up a lot worse than we will.”

I mull
over his words.

“What if
she’s picked up by Cold Fever?”

Pierce and Jimmy freeze. My insides coil into knots. I narrow my eyes at Ryker. “You really want her in the band, don’t you?”

He nods.

“You must if you brought up those losers.” I swallow hard. “Fine. She can join, but she’s your responsibility. If anything goes wrong, it’s on your head.”

Ryker smiles like he just won the stinking lottery. I turn around and prepare to clean up my stuff. My stomach churns, and I wonder if my decision just sealed yet another person’s fate.
 

3

Star

I walk with clipped strides through the campus, my backpack thumping against my shoulder blades. The heavy books inside jostle around, and their sharp edges jab me every once in awhile. It's Monday morning and I'm so not looking forward to the hours of lectures ahead of me.  As I round a corner, I bump shoulders with a boy racing past. Without bothering to look up, I adjust the strap of my backpack.

"Star?" a familiar voice says.

I peer up at him. "Hey, Ryker."

"I'm glad I ran into you," he says
, and then adds with a laugh, " literally."

I smile, just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Even though I know it'll be a text from Lola, I still snatch it out and glance down to see what it says.

Maid report: Bed made.

I glance up at Ryker and give him an apologetic face. "Just give me a minute."  Then I quickly text back.
Sorry. I thought I did better. At least I picked up my clothes from the floor.

True.
Her response comes almost immediately, and then I push my phone back into my pocket. Lola is a complete neat freak, and I'm kind of a slob. When we first moved in together I feared that it would become a problem for us. Instead, Lola has turned it into a daily joke of maid reports in the form of texts. At least I think it's a joke. I choose to look at them that way, but in truth they have caused me to make more of an effort. However, even with all the effort in the world I will never be as organized as Lola. My creative brain just doesn't work that way.

"I wanted to apologize again for last night," Ryker says.

"It's fine, really. You don't have to keep saying you're sorry. Sometimes these things just don't work out."

"But that's just it. I think it will work out."

I freeze, not wanting him to continue. The last thing I need is false hope about this whole band thing. Why can't Ryker just let it go? I'm never going to humiliate myself like that again. "I think Beckett made it pretty clear that it won't. But thanks anyway." I walk around him.

"Wait." Ryker stops me. "We talked about it after you left last night and we all agreed that you'd make a great addition.

I shake my head. "That's very sweet, but I don't think so."

"C'mon. Please? Beckett feels really bad about his reaction. He honestly did think you were talented."

"Really? Well, then why didn't he say that?"

"Beckett's just complicated, but he's not that bad when you get to know him."

"Well I'm not interested in getting to know him. I think I found out enough last night," I say. "I'm sorry, but I can't put myself through that again. Now if you'll excuse me, I really have to get to class." Without another word, I walk briskly away from Ryker. But no matter how fast I walk, I can't get his words out of my head. Is it true that Beckett did feel bad about his behavior? Did he really think I was talented? As swiftly as the questions enter my mind, I remember the bored look on Beckett's face and the way he dismissed me without any guilt. What is it about him that gets under my skin so bad? I know that the smart thing for me to do right now is just to forget about Beckett and his band; just forget about the whole thing.

“That was super good.” Lola links arms with me as we exit the pub we just had dinner in. The cool air circles us as we step outside, and my loose shirt billows around my body. I shiver, goosebumps rising on my flesh. My heels click on the pavement as we walk.

“I know. Fried food is my nemesis.” My stomach hurts from the exorbitant amount of fish and chips I just ate.

The dark night sky swallows us, with only the dim light of the streetlamps to direct us to our car. A few vehicles pass by, their tires rumbling on the asphalt. Lola’s fruity scent lingers on the slight breeze. We pass by a little club, music spilling outside from the door that is slightly ajar. A couple stands against the window puffing on a cigarette. I bat away the plumes of smoke that reach for me as we walk by. The drumbeat from the club resonates under my feet. When we reach the door, a male’s voice sings out, and I freeze.

“What?” Lola halts, raising her eyebrows at me.

I knit my brows together. “I think that’s Beckett.”

“So?” Lola flashes me a dumbfounded look.

Shrugging, I wriggle my arm out of Lola’s grasp move toward the door. I peek inside the club and my heart stops. Beckett is standing on a stage, his eyes closed, his mouth up to a mic and his hands strumming his guitar. Before I can register what I’m doing, I press the door open.

Lola grabs my arm. “I thought you never wanted to see him again.”

I bite my lip, knowing she’s right. The pull I feel toward Beckett isn’t healthy. I should turn around right now and get the hell out of here. Only, for some sick reason I want to stay and listen to him sing. “Just one song?”

Lola heaves a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

We push through the crowd and find a small table that is empty near the stage. I slide into one of the chairs, bumping my knees against the bottom of the round table. Lola scoots in next to me. Not until we’re seated do I notice just how close to Beckett we are. We’re practically sitting on the stage. My palms clam up at the realization. This is probably a mistake. Just when I’m about to hightail it out of here, Beckett looks up and his eyes lock with mine. The look he gives me causes my heart to stutter. It’s almost like he’s happy to see me. In fact, his lips curl upward into a grin. I suck in a breath, and he lowers his gaze. He continues to sing, and I wonder if I imagined the whole thing. When the song ends his gaze finds me again, and this time there’s no mistaking it. Our eyes meet, and he flashes me a crooked grin.

“For this next song I’d like to bring up a very special guest,” Beckett speaks in his husky voice
that is so sexy I’m sure the entire room is swooning. “We sang this song together earlier in the week, and I’d like to do it again.”  My stomach drops when he looks pointedly at me. “Star?”

Hearing him say my name causes a rush of chills to skitter down my spine. Lola’s mouth drops open, and I’m pretty sure my face looks just as shocked as hers. Glancing up, I catch Ryker’s eye from where he stands
behind Beckett with his bass guitar in hand. He gives me a subtle nod, and I force my legs to stand. Beckett is wearing an amused grin as I make my way up to the stage. What is he up to? I feel everyone’s eyes on me as I take deliberate steps forward, and my face heats up. Once I reach Beckett, panic sweeps over me at the realization that there isn’t a keyboard on stage, or even an extra microphone.

As if reading my mind, Beckett curls his index finger beckoning me forward. He holds his microphone
between us.  My chest tightens. Once I reach him, I stand perfectly still.

“The song is called
Can’t Have
.” The band starts playing, and I immediately recognize the song as the one I sang with Beckett in his garage. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and dare a look at Lola. She is staring at me with a stunned expression on her face, and it almost causes me to laugh out loud. When I face Beckett again the reality of the situation crashes over me and I worry that I’m about to get sick. He nods at me, stepping closer. We’re nearing the chorus. When he faces me, I swallow hard. Our heads are so close together that the microphone is literally the only thing keeping our lips from touching, and it causes me to feel dizzy. I work hard to focus on the lyrics, as I open my mouth and sing in harmony with Beckett.

You’re just one more thing I can’t have

Standing just outside my grasp

But it doesn’t really matter

Because good things never last

As I sing the words, I lose myself in his eyes. I’m so mesmerized it’s like the rest of the room fades away and only he and I are standing on this stage. His lips move in sync with mine as our voices mingle together. His fingers close around the microphone between us and his eyes pierce mine. It’s one of the most intimate experiences of my life, and when the song ends it takes me a minute to
return to reality. When I do, Beckett furrows his brows at me and I wonder how long I continued to stare at him after we finished.