Love Songs & Other Lies(2)

“You can make it up to me by giving me my surprise,” I say to Logan. “Let’s get it over with, already.”

“Turn around,” Logan says, looping his finger in the air.

Anders is standing between me and the long line of blue-curtained sleeping cubbies stretching out before me, and something about his face changes, like he just remembered something he forgot. “Don’t be mad,” he mumbles, leaving me confused.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for in the back of the bus. Then it all starts happening: I see a pair of long legs hanging over the edge of the bunk. My body freezes as I look into his eyes, seeing my own confusion mirrored there. For the first few seconds it doesn’t register. Maybe I’m in denial. Or shock. I hate surprises, but this isn’t anything like what I had expected. It’s so much worse. His hair is a darker blond now, cropped shorter than before. His shoulders are broader, the lean lines of his muscles visible under his shirt, and a faint line of hair prickles along his defined jawline. He’s definitely not the boy I knew.

No. No. No.

I can’t breathe. As melodramatic as it might sound, if Logan weren’t standing between me and the door, I’m pretty sure I’d be sprinting out of this bus and across the parking lot right now. My arm twitches as I contemplate knocking him down to make my escape. This can’t be happening. Logan is looking past me, at him, and I can’t even bring myself to think his name. I don’t want even that tiny part of him in my head.

“Surprise!” Logan shouts, to no one in particular, and for a moment I have to wonder if my best friend actually hates me. Seeing him—the last person I ever expected to lay eyes on again—wasn’t in even the top twenty possible scenarios that crossed my mind when Logan called me three weeks ago, promising me a job that would save me from spending summer break back at home with my parents.

“You know you’ll be bored,” he said. “Come help us promote the band,” he said. “We need you,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he said.

Right. I can’t believe how much fun I’m having right now. As I contemplate what I’m going to do about my dear friend Logan, the guy staring at me from eight feet away is headed my way. Time has run out and I have to figure out what I’m going to do. Just get off the bus. Except the reality is, I don’t even have enough money for a ticket home. No, like it or not, I’m going to be trapped on this bus for the next three months. Even if I made it home, there’s no way my parents would pay for me to stay in Chicago for the summer. I already moved out of the freshman dorm. And at home, I have zero chance of surviving a small-town summer after a year in the city. Stirring up trouble before this bus even leaves the parking lot is the last thing I want. Because I’m out of options. And this is ancient history, anyway.

All I have to do is act normal. He’s just some guy—a friend for a few months, almost two years ago. Two years! I’m not the girl he knew then, and he’s definitely not going to affect me the way he used to. I need to fake it and not give him the satisfaction of anything more than that.

My eyes are on his brown leather shoes, my voice soft. “Hey, Cameron.” I’m trying my best to smile but it feels like my face might crack.

His voice sounds strained, like I said something wrong. “Hey, Vee.”

“Your band’s in the tour too?” I’m unsure of what to say but I need to fill the silence. I force myself to look him in the eyes just for a moment as I mutter, “Small world.”

And really it is, because what are the odds?

“Uh, Vee—” Anders is looking at me like I’ve got two weeks to live and he doesn’t know how to break it to me. “Cam’s in our band?” It’s not a question—he’s gauging my reaction.

Of course he is. The universe hates me.

I’m unable to form a coherent thought. “Oh.” You’ve got this, Virginia. Slap on a smile and get through this.

Logan moves next to Cameron and throws an arm across his back. “We needed to add a fourth guy. We picked him up a few months ago.”

This is the new guy Logan has been mentioning for months?

Logan’s smile is still assaulting me. “Just like old times, huh, Vee?”

I want to smile, to be happy, because I need to believe that Logan really did believe me when I told him Cameron and I weren’t a serious thing. And he thinks he’s reuniting long lost friends; bringing back joy-filled memories. Because if it isn’t that, then he lured me onto this bus for three months, knowing I’d be trapped with an ex-whatever. Logan and I have been friends since we were nine. He knows how to push my buttons, but I don’t believe he has an actual death wish.

I’m trying to smile, but I’m not sure if my lips are actually cooperating, because my eyes are locked on Cam and my brain is screaming, “Punch that asshole in the face!”

God, it’s hard not to notice that face.

All of the lines that used to be soft are hard. His eyes seem greener. Gone are the preppy polo shirts and khaki cargo shorts, replaced by a tailored, dark blue button-down rolled up his taut forearms. A pair of perfectly worn jeans hangs low on his waist. He is stunning. And I want to punch him in his beautiful fucking face. Is it thumb-in when you punch someone or thumb-out? Too bad twelve-year-old Vee didn’t pay attention to any of Dad’s self-defense lectures.