The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

Nothing did. “Why would you do this? Just to promote yourself?”

She rolled her eyes. “Duh. But also to promote you. I’m your ticket to stardom. But we have some work to do. For starters, we need more video. Preferably of you doing covers like that amazeballs, ‘Yellow.’ Your own song is beautiful, but if someone wants an original Miller Stratton EP, then they need to pay for it. Plus, people love it when someone slays a song they know and recognize. It forms a connection—”

“Wait, hold on. What are you saying? You want to put me on your vlog and hope it goes viral?”

“Honey, you’re already viral. Why do you think half the student body—especially the female half—has been drooling over you from afar all morning?”

“So, what’s the upshot? We make more videos?”

“After we give you a little makeover of course.”

“No fucking way.”

“Do you want to have a career in music or not?”

I sat back against the bench. I wanted to make music--and enough cash to take care of Mom, get rid of Chet, and never again have to choose between groceries or keeping the lights on. Or see an eviction notice on our door. My memories shuffled through months of washing my hair in gas station bathrooms, and cramming my long legs into the back seat of the station wagon while the forest night was thick and breathing outside the window, and Mom was out trying to bring home a few bucks…

“Yes,” I blurted. “I do.”

Evelyn smiled. “Then this is how we do it. Trust. We shoot a few more songs, build a bigger following, and the world is going to stand up and take notice. You’ll be whisked off to LA and the rest is history.”

I sincerely doubted it would be that easy, but what did I have to lose?

“And what do you get out of it?” I asked, my suspicions swooping back in. “I know you’re not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. I’m that dirty kid who lived in a car, remember?”

She shrugged, not put off by my accusation. “A diamond in the rough can only shine if someone scrapes off the dirt. And of course, I’m not doing this for free. I have my demands.”

“Which are?”

She shouldered her backpack as the first bell rang. “I’ll let you know when the time comes, but you have to swear to uphold your end.”

“How can I do that if I don’t know what your demands are?” I shot her a look. “I’m not killing anyone for you.”

She laughed. “I promise it’s not something illegal.” She offered her long, lacquer-nailed hand. “Deal?”

My eternal pessimism told me this was fucking crazy, but where had listening to that voice gotten me?

I took her hand. “Deal.”

We sealed it with one shake and then she jumped off the bench. “Great. Meet me at my house after school today.”

“Can’t. I work. Sunday is my only day.”

She heaved a sigh. “Fine. Sunday. I’ll text you the address.”

“How did you get my phone number?”

“I had Violet’s phone for an entire day, remember?” She glanced at my T-shirt under an unbuttoned plaid flannel and tapped her fingernail to her chin. “This adorable scruffy look works but needs accessories…”

“Hell, no,” I said. “I’m not dressing up as someone I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you won’t. Luckily, this works for us. Rags to riches… Humble beginnings.” She touched her finger to the tip of my nose. “Leave it to me. I got you, boo.”

Evelyn strode away, leaving me with a weird feeling in my chest. Her plan was nuts. The chances of anything coming of it were slim. Weren’t they?

She’d said a diamond in the rough can only shine if someone scrapes off the dirt. The dust. And that’s when I recognized the feeling in my chest. Hope.

Chapter Fourteen