Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“No offense taken.” It’s a basic fact: I can’t harmonize for shit. I’ve been working on it during runs at football practice and in the shower, but improvement has been pretty slow.
“So, if we’re adding someone to sing harmonies,” Savage continues, “let’s also make sure they play an instrument none of us can play. Ideally, someone who’d contribute some fresh songwriting ideas, too.”
“Well, that’s a tall order,” Kai says with a scoff. “Someone who sings harmonies, plays keys, and writes kickass songs—and wants to be in a band, instead of being a solo singer-songwriter? Guys, I’m the only one going to music school, remember? And I’m telling you—”
“Here we go again.” Savage rolls his eyes.
“—that the kind of musician you’re talking about would never want to play behind you, Savage. They’re going to want to be front and center, if not solo. And we don’t want anybody who sees our band as a stepping stone. We all have to be completely committed to Fugitive Summer.”
Kai’s eyes meet mine, and I flash him a warning—one that says tread carefully, Kai Cook. If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times. If he pushes too hard on the “our band is life” bullshit, Savage is going to walk, whether I’m in the band or not.
“But I mean, obviously, I’m open to trying to find someone like that,” Kai says quickly. “Hence tonight’s audition.”
“Gee, thanks,” Savage says sarcastically.
Kai looks at me. “This Rufus guy can harmonize?”
“Like a beast,” I lie without hesitation. Truly, it’s amazing how easily falsehoods keep tripping off my tongue, all in the name of making sure my brother gives Ruby a fair shake. In reality, I have no idea if she can carry a tune, let alone sing harmonies, let alone sing them “like a beast,” any more than I know if she can play more than simple “Chopsticks” on her keyboard.
The only things I know for sure about Ruby and her musicianship are the few tidbits she’s mentioned during natural conversation. She was assigned as my lab partner in chemistry after I started at St. Francis Academy on a football scholarship a month ago. Since then, she’s mentioned she’s been playing piano since grade school and that she performed a song she wrote in our school talent show last year. That’s it. That’s all I know. But since I was looking for any excuse to spend time with her outside of school, and I’m way too shy to actually ask her out, I leaped at the chance to kill two birds with one stone: getting my best friend the new musician he keeps asking for, while also creating the perfect environment for my crush to get to know me beyond the sadly too-brief interactions we have in class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Ruby sits with her band of cool, edgy misfits at lunch, unfortunately. The goths. The theater kids. The weirdos. The insanely smart kids furiously working on homework at all times. It’s an interesting blend. And I sit with my teammates, clear on the other side of the cafeteria, covertly peeking at her and trying to figure out a way to get her to notice me. At my old school, girls were always falling all over me. And, actually, I guess that’s true at this one, too. But not the right girls. Or girl, rather. Not Ruby. And I can’t figure out how to change that.
A sharp knock makes all three of us look toward the door of the basement. I lurch up from the couch, butterflies ravaging my belly. But Kai is already walking over there.
“I’ll get it!” I call out. “Hang on, Kai!”
I’m too late.
By the time I’ve reached my brother, he’s already opened the door and discovered Ruby standing in the doorframe next to someone totally unexpected: my new teammate. A linebacker. Titus. Aw, fuck. Is Ruby dating a football player? Before now, I’d convinced myself she never looks at me twice because football players and athletes aren’t weird and/or cool enough to be her thing. But if she’s dating Titus, so much for that theory. Also, if she’s got a boyfriend at all, whoever he is, so much for me dating her. Fuck my life.
“Hey, Rufus,” Kai says warmly, his greeting directed at Titus. “Thanks for coming, man.”
Titus places his large palm on his chest. “Titus. I hope it’s okay I tagged along. I didn’t want my sister coming all the way out here by herself.”
Sister.
Connolly.
Holy shit. Titus Connolly. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together over the past month. In my defense, however, it’s not too unusual a last name at a school filled with Irish Catholics. Also, Ruby and Titus are in the same grade, and they look nothing alike—Titus is a big, scruffy football player and Ruby’s a cute little pixie with purple hair—so the possibility of them being siblings never even crossed my mind.