Cameron
The alarm blares in my ears and finally pulls at my eyelids. There’s no way it’s already morning. It seems like I fell asleep minutes ago. I rub my eyes and can’t help but feel as though I’m missing something. I turn to the clock and slam the thing off. Six-thirty in the morning. I grab my pillow and roll over. I’ll catch a little more sleep before—a yawn forces a big inhale. Mmm . . . sweet and spice.
I blink open my eyes. Eve. Did she get up and leave? She didn’t have a car or money, so if she did, she’s on foot. I sit up and look around the room. Empty.
I run my hands through my hair and move to the bathroom. My eyes fix on the backpack that hangs from a hook by the shower. I take a deep, relieved breath. She’s still here.
While in the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face then head out to find her. Maybe she woke early and went to watch TV. The house is silent until I hit the kitchen where mumbling voices filter in from the dining room. As I get closer, they become more distinct: Eve and Ryder. The clinking of silverware to plates fills the gaps in their conversation.
“How were you able to get into The Joint? I thought they were twenty-one and up?” Eve says through what sounds like a mouthful of food.
“They are, but we know a guy who hooks us up. As long as we don’t drink the booze, he lets us in.” Ryder’s going to clubs under age. Not exactly new information, but it pisses me off anyway. The last thing he needs is a criminal record to set him up for the future.
“You guys go, but you don’t drink?”
“We go for the music mainly. Some of the guys drink before, but I’m usually the designated driver.”
“You’re a lot more responsible than I was at your age.” Her low chuckle says that we don’t even know the half of it.
His age, so four years ago? Shit, these reminders of her age are like little sucker punches to the gut.
“Nah, I’m not a big fan of liquor. Makes good people act like jackasses.”
Eve hums her agreement. “What bands do you like?”
“Traverse is my favorite. Been trying to see them for years, but it’s impossible to get into their shows.”
“I saw them last summer.”
“No kidding. What were they like?”
“Ah-mazing. Cy Castro’s voice in real life is even better live than on the album.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” A utensil clanks on a plate. “Shit, I’m so jealous.”
“When they come back to town, I’ll try to get you tickets.”
“You could do that?”
She must nod. “Mm-hm. I know a guy who does security for all the big shows.”
She knows a guy? And why the motherfuck does that little slice of news make me want to break something?
“Really? That would be so fuckin’ cool.”
“Pass the syrup?”
“Here.”
“Thanks. If you like Traverse, you’d like my friend’s band, Ataxia.”
“I’ve heard of them. I think the lead singer fights for my dad.”
“Yeah, Rex. The band’s more mainstream than Traverse, but they have a similar style. They play at The Blackout all the time. I could pull some strings, get you in.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“That’s so kick ass.”
A few seconds of silence pass and I move to enter.
“You’re way cooler than the other chicks my dad dates.”
Oh fuck.
Eve coughs or chokes. She clears her throat. “Um . . . other chicks? Wow. Thank you? I think.”
“Oh no, he’s not dating anyone now. I just mean since he and my mom got divorced.”
I release the breath I was holding. She’s already worried that I’m playing her. Ry’s clarification was helpful, but I’m sure it was enough to get into her head.
Thankfully, she changes the conversation back to music, and I quit my eavesdropping and move to the living room. My stomach churns with unease. Listening to them talk is like being in the room while Ry and his buddies hang out. The bands, the shows, the venues, it’s like a foreign language that only the two of them understand.
I told myself I wasn’t going to let our age difference affect our hanging out, and here I am considering cutting her loose. Even as the thought passes through my head, my body jolts to stop that line of thinking.
No, we’ll be fine. I can look past the seventeen years that divide us, at least for as long as this thing between us lasts. Yeah, this can—
“Hey, when did you wake up?” Eve’s voice calls my eyes to her. She’s standing there in pair of baggy sweats and the same top she slept in, but now wearing a bra. No wonder Ry was able to have a coherent conversation. No way would he have been able to form complete sentences if she hadn’t.
“Just now.”
“I made French toast.” She gives me an uneasy smile. “I hope that’s okay.”
Her nervousness is so damn cute. “Smells good.”
She motions over her shoulder to the kitchen. “You want some?”