She raises a brow. “In the teacher’s bathroom?”
“Yeah … I have a pass.” I hold it up between two fingers. “To keep the fans at bay.”
She snorts, and her eyes narrow. “Right. I thought this was a women’s only bathroom.”
I lean in closer and point at the sign above the door. “Unisex.”
The moment the word sex leaves my lips, she gulps. Hard.
It almost makes me want to put my hands against the wall, trap her inside, and kiss her, right then and there. But then I remember what my bandmates did. And what I didn’t do.
I sigh out loud and rub my lips together. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for Michael. He was out of line.”
She glares at me, looking unamused. “Really?”
“Really,” I repeat. “He’s an asshole.”
“You two perfectly match each other then,” she replies.
Fuck. I hate this. Even though I’ve behaved like an asshole, I’m not like him. And I hate that she’d compare us.
“I’m trying to apologize, okay? Don’t make this harder,” I say out of spite.
“That’s a shitty apology then,” she scoffs.
“I know I have shitty friends,” I retort. “But you walked into me, not the other way around. Maybe you should watch where you’re walking.”
“Wow …” she mutters, shaking her head. “You really tried, didn’t you?”
She tries to push past me, and I know I fucked up again.
I’m not used to this kind of interaction.
To apologizing.
Girls usually throw themselves at my feet. Nothing I do is ever wrong to them, not even when I show them the door.
But this girl … she genuinely despises me, and I hate that.
So I grab her arm and make her stop. “Wait. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
She looks at my hand wrapped around her wrist. We both do. And when I realize what I’m doing, I release her. The look in her eyes is murderous. And I get that. I deserve it.
What I don’t get is that she doesn’t run. “You didn’t mean to what?” she asks.
I can’t let this get to me. Even if I’m the asshole and my friends are too, I have to distance myself, no matter how hard it is. I can’t get fucking close, not to anyone.
I step closer, and say, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She makes a face like she doesn’t believe it’s true.
Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but when everything was said and done, I still hated seeing the hurt on her face, and that speaks volumes.
“I didn’t know you were so …”
“Fragile? Weak?” she fills in the blanks with a twinge of hatred as though it comes easy.
But the words she chooses surprise me. I wouldn’t paint her as weak or fragile at all. “Complicated,” I say.
She smiles, and the sight could fill a thousand hearts and light them on fire. And even though I thought my icy heart had been frozen for a long time, it still manages to crack under the weight of her smile.
Suddenly someone grabs my shoulder, turning me around. “Dude, what are you doing? We don’t have time for girls,” Tristan says.
I frown and chew my lip. He’s right, even though I wish he wasn’t right now. I don’t want to jeopardize my band with another girl, not again, not with my reputation.
I avert my eyes, and without looking at her, without even saying another word or taking that leak I needed, I walk off.
Chapter 9
Cole
Days later
I haven’t seen Monica since she ran into us. I don’t know if we’re both purposely avoiding each other, or if she just happened to disappear. Maybe the reaction of my bandmates really did scare her off.
Some days, I feel guilty for not intervening sooner, but if I had, they’d accused me of being on her side instead of theirs. And that would get in the way of the band.
Anything for the band.
With my spoon, I twirl it in my dessert, but I’m not remotely hungry, so I stop, pick up my tray, and waltz to the bin next to the cafeteria door to throw it all out. Fuck this shit. I don’t even know why I’m eating here when we could be practicing … away from all these eyes that are on me every second of the day.
Just one glance over my shoulder, and they’re all swooning with smiles, waving at me like they’re waiting for me to wave back. I like fans when I sing, but I don’t like the pressure it brings in daily life.
Gotta get used to it, I suppose. One day, we’re gonna be even more famous than we are now, and then photographers and tabloids will be talking shit about us too. Right now, it’s just people on social media that are hyped about us, but apparently it’s enough to get people to recognize you on the streets and beg for an autograph or a kiss.