The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

I took an Uber to the wealthy estates near the Pogonip forest, my thoughts drifting backward over memories. We’d almost kissed. Once. When we were fifteen. Violet wanted to practice, but I’d have rather chewed glass than be her test dummy. A stand-in for the guy she actually wanted to kiss. I wanted the real thing.

But she doesn’t want me.

I climbed out of the Uber and went around to her backyard. My guitar case banged against my shoulders as I climbed the trellis. Violet had sent me another text that I should bring it.

She was waiting for me, excitement and hesitation dancing in her eyes, lighting her up. Making her pale skin luminous. Her luscious body was hugged by a tight T-shirt and pajama pants. Her breasts were perfectly round and heavy; I ached to fill my hands with them and coax her nipples to stand at attention with my tongue…

Jesus, dude. That’s not what friends are for.

“Hey,” I said, cutting off the heated thoughts before they got me in trouble.

“Hi,” she said, breathy and nervous. “I’m so glad you came. It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, Vi. I’m sorry I’ve been cold lately. And I wanted—”

“It’s all right,” she said, waving her hands. “I know things haven’t been great for you since Chet arrived.”

“Yeah, he’s a fucking barnacle. Don’t know how to scrape him off.”

“I do,” Violet said. “Well, not directly. But I know how you can make a ton of money to take care of your mom and get rid of him forever.” She held up her cell phone. “YouTube.”

I leaned against her desk. “I know where you’re going with this.”

“I’ve been doing my homework. Shawn Mendes is literally a superstar because of his Vine videos. Billie Eilish put a song on SoundCloud and now look where she is. After the reaction to your playing at the party, it’s a no-brainer. We put videos of you out there, and the world is going to beg for more.”

I smiled, warmed by her confidence in me. “It’s just that easy, huh?”

“With your talent? Yes.”

“Not that it’s going to happen, but I don’t want to be famous like Mendes.”

“What do you want?”

You.

“To…uh, I don’t know. I like performing in front of people. I didn’t realize how much until I did it at the party. It felt like all the shit I walk around with all day had an outlet. A safe one, where I don’t have to talk about my dad or my past or…”

What I feel for you.

“Or whatever…I can just feel it through the song. And the audience hears and maybe they sort of understand. They understand me.” I shrugged. “Make me feel less lonely.”

Violet’s dark blue eyes were miles deep, so beautiful the way she looked at me, seeing and accepting every flawed and broken piece of me.

The air thickened and turned heavy.

I cleared my throat. “Short answer, I want to make music and earn enough money to live without being so goddamn stressed out all the time. And to help my mom.”

Violet smiled softly. “I get that. But with talent like yours, being famous or not might be out of your hands.”

I smirked. “I think that’s overstating it.”

“I don’t.”

God, her faith in me was total. As if superstardom was a matter of when, not if. But the internet was flooded with wannabe Shawns and Billies. I’d just be another voice shouting into an overcrowded void. On the other hand, my own plan to send unproduced, raw-as-hell demos to record companies wasn’t exactly a sure bet either.

“We can try, but—”

“Great! I’m ready when you are.”