JERKFACE
Piper
Piper—Age 9
Cannon—Age 14
The snickers coming from the front row were the most irritating sound in the history of, well, sound.
As I waited for my turn onstage, standing by the curtains for my music teacher to announce me after congratulating the last performer on his piano solo, I dared a glance at the audience, already knowing who I would find there. Mom, Dad, Aunt Emmie and Uncle Nik, Dallas and Axton—they were all in the second row. My brother, Shaw, Violet, Jagger, Cannon, and Mia were seated in front of them in the first row.
Of the six of them, five of their gazes were on my teacher. The sixth—Cannon’s—was on me. And every time he caught me frowning in his direction, he would snicker again. It wasn’t just annoying—it gave me serious stage fright, something that had never bothered me before.
In the last several years, I’d performed at dozens of recitals, as well as gone onstage with my mom to do a violin duet at many Christmas concerts. That had been in front of at least ten thousand people, with millions of others watching live at home. And I hadn’t had a single moment of nervousness.
I knew I was good at playing the violin. I’d been taught by the best—my mom—and then I started studying under some of the most amazing teachers for the past several summers. I wasn’t just good. Everyone said I was a prodigy. That my talents would one day surpass even those of my mother. That seemed impossible, but only time would tell, and I would try my best to make my mom proud.
My attention was still on Cannon, his evil smirk making his dimples pop. I hated when he flashed those stupid things. It caused my stomach to do that weird flip thing, and I always had to force my eyes to look at something else. But no matter how hard I tried to look away from him, I couldn’t bring myself to shift my gaze from those beautiful—devilish—dimples.
The crowd clapping after my teacher introduced me was what finally broke my gawking at the jerk in the middle of the front row. Swallowing down my unusual nervousness, I straightened my spine, squared my shoulders, and lifted my chin. As I walked out onto the stage, I gave Cannon a disdainful last glance and then did something I’d never done before.
I played to show him how good I was. Not to impress my mother or my teacher or even the judges who would award the best performer of the evening with a trophy. I put everything I had into each note, closing my eyes and tuning out everything except the music—and imagined the look I wanted to see on my bully’s face when the song was over.
When I lowered my bow, I was out of breath, and all the kids in the front row stared up at me with their mouths hanging open. Cannon’s jaw was nearly unhinged, and I started to smirk.
But then he recovered and snickered again, making me want to swing my violin at his head like a baseball bat.
My mother jumping to her feet and clapping drew my attention away from my archenemy as the rest of the crowd followed her lead. Everyone—with the exception of Cannon—gave me a standing ovation, and I felt my heart lift with pride.
I didn’t need stupid Cannon Cage to praise me when the applause was nearly deafening from everyone else. Besides, I’d seen how shocked he’d been before he’d tried to cover it up.
After the recital, there was a party in the gym of my school. It was nearly the end of summer break, and most people were on vacation. The majority of my extended honorary family wasn’t there because they were away, including my aunt LeeLee and cousin Jordan. But the Armstrongs and Cages were always at every one of my recitals, it seemed.
With my trophy in hand, I had to take pictures with all the judges, my teachers, and then with my parents for the school’s website and social media pages. Over the past two years, I’d garnered my private elementary school a lot of attention for their music program. They wanted me to be their poster child for it, mostly to tempt other talented musical kids to attend, but I was hoping to be accepted to Juilliard.
Once all the cameras stopped flashing, Mom and Dad hugged me tightly before urging me to go have fun with the other kids. I didn’t have a lot of friends—none, really—in the summer music program, but at least my family was there. Seeing Shaw and Violet were by the snacks, I left my parents after giving them my trophy for safekeeping.
Shaw threw her arms around me as soon as I was within reach. “You were amazing!” she squealed. “I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe I know the next Lindsey Stirling.”
Laughing, I hugged her back before accepting a hug from Violet. Her parents were in Paris for the week because of work for Aunt Harper, but Vi had asked to stay with the Cages instead. Everyone else was on vacation in Mexico, Florida, or Italy, or were at home in Tennessee. But I’d gotten texts from Lyric, Doe and her brothers, Jordan, and Trinity earlier, telling me they knew I was going to be phenomenal at the recital.
“I got goose bumps during your performance,” Violet gushed. “I wish I’d recorded it for Ric and Luca.”
“Don’t worry,” Mia announced as she joined us. With her hair pulled up in its usual ballerina bun on top of her head, her beautiful complexion, and those startling green eyes so like Aunt Emmie’s I could look at her for hours without once getting tired of the sight, she was one of my favorite people. Not just because she was so pretty and nice to look at, but because she was what I imagined every girl should have when it came to a protective older sister. “Momma caught everything with her phone and has already sent it to everyone. I’m sure the twins are already watching it.”
I was enfolded into one of her warm hugs. Just like when I hugged her mom, I felt safe and cherished with her arms around me. “I just got a text from Jordan. He says he wished he could have been here. But you know how his dad is about spending summers in Italy.” I grinned when she rolled her green eyes. That got me another hug. Mia and my mom were pretty close, so I’d always considered her more of an honorary big sister than a cousin like I did everyone else.
Pulling back, she pressed something into my hands. Frowning, I glanced down to find two clear tubes of what looked like gold glitter. “What’s this for?”
“Did you know that Cannon hates glitter?” Shaw asked casually as she handed out cups of punch.
“No-o-o-o,” I drew out my answer, as confused by the question as I was by why my honorary sis had given me the glitter vials.
“He does,” Violet answered, a smile teasing at her lips. “One time, Shaw and I were doing crafts, and Shaw accidentally—” she winked as she stressed the word “—got glitter on Cannon’s favorite hoodie. He washed it three times, and there were still a few flakes of glitter on it. So he burned it in the fire pit we have between our houses on the beach.”
“O-kay.” I didn’t completely understand why they were giving me information I didn’t care about or even want to know about a boy I hated.
“I overheard Cannon on the phone with Jags last night,” Shaw said, lowering her voice. “He was saying he hoped you choked today because it would be the only good thing about having to watch your recital.”
It didn’t surprise me that her brother would say something so mean about me, but it did surprise me that he still had the power to hurt me. My fingers clenched into fists around the little vials.
“I called Mia as soon as I heard him,” she continued, her eyes telling me how sorry she was that she’d repeated what Cannon had said. I knew she wasn’t doing it maliciously, but to prepare me. Shaw had always been straightforward about everything. No matter how delicate or emotional the subject was, she didn’t hold back. That was something I admired, especially because she was compassionate enough to understand that this had the potential to hurt me. “We had a chat, and then Vi reminded me about Can’s aversion to glitter.”
“We just thought you might like to have some ammunition in case you have to deal with him face-to-face,” Mia murmured softly.
“Thanks.” I swallowed hard and forced a grin to my face, not wanting them to see that, without trying, Cannon had scored points off me yet again.