Leah on the Offbeat (Creekwood #2)(22)

My mind reels through the last few hours. Morgan’s blotchy red anger. Lying to Garrett. Abby kneeling in front of the bathroom sink. Abby taking Garrett’s hands. Abby saying never. But only never in front of Garrett.

And I have no idea if she’s kidding.





10


THE SECOND I STEP OFF the bus on Monday, Abby’s in my face. “Hey,” she says casually, falling into step beside me. “So, last night was weird.”

“Uh, yeah.” I wince as soon as I say it. I have this problem sometimes where I sound bitchier than I mean to, and it’s a thousand times worse when it comes to Abby. Simon once asked me point-blank why I dislike her so much. But here’s the thing: I don’t even dislike Abby. It’s just that my brain doesn’t work right around her.

It doesn’t help that she looks obnoxiously cute—striped shirt tucked into a red skirt over tights, hair clipped back with bobby pins. She covers her mouth, yawning, and then catches my eye and grins.

“Okay, so I have a proposition for you,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” She tilts her head sideways and her eyes glint like she’s about to make a joke. She’s an inch or two shorter than me, and probably half my weight. Or not. I don’t know. She’s not actually that thin. Just kind of trim and muscular. Mesomorph. That’s the word I know from the magazines Mom leaves in the bathroom.

“So, this campus tour,” she says when we get to my locker. “I’m not going with my parents. Not doing it.”

“Everyone brings their parents.”

She shakes her head. “Not me.”

“You sound very certain about that.” I feel myself smiling.

“Do you want to come with me?” she asks. “Spring break. Any day. I can borrow my mom’s car and drive us up there, and we can stay with my cousin’s friend. It could be like a whole road trip.”

“Like Simon and Nick?”

“Uh, they wish they were coming on our trip. Because we’ll get to go to parties and do whatever we want. It’ll be amazing. We’ll actually get a real idea of what it’s like there.”

I look at her, speechless. Other than Martin Addison’s bathroom, I don’t think we’ve been alone in a room together for over a year. But suddenly Abby’s talking like we’re the kind of friends who go to parties and take selfies and split French fries at midnight. Am I losing my mind?

“Or not,” she adds quickly. “We don’t have to go to parties. I seriously don’t care. Totally up to you.”

“So, you want me to go with you to Athens,” I say slowly. Then I realize my fingers are tapping out a drumbeat. On my locker. I let my hand fall.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

I shake my head quickly, staring at my shoes. “We’re not . . .” I shut my eyes.

I’m not friends with Abby Suso. I’m not anything with Abby Suso. And to be honest, this whole thing is fucking me up a little.

“Obviously, I know you have to ask your mom and everything.”

“I just . . .”

I glance up in time to see Taylor charging toward me, hands clasped together like she means business. “We’ll talk,” Abby says, the palm of her hand grazing my arm. Then she disappears up the stairs, like she was never here at all.

“So?” Taylor says with a big, expectant smile.

My eyes drift toward the staircase. “What’s up?” I say halfheartedly.

“So, what did you think?”

“What did I think?”

“Of the play!”

“Oh,” I say. “It was great. Congrats.”

“Obviously, a few people could benefit from formal training, but overall, it was good, right? And Nick was just so wonderful.” She smiles. “Hey, speaking of Nick . . .”

God, this girl. I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word subtle. Like, if you’re going to bust in talking about Nick and then segue into talking about Nick, it’s going to be pretty goddamn clear that you want to talk about Nick.

“I just had this really cool thought,” Taylor continues. “So, like, everyone—oh my God, everyone—is telling me they love the way my voice and Nick’s voice blend together. Like, so many people have told me they just got chills listening to us.” She laughs. “Isn’t that funny?”

“So funny.”

“Anyway.” She beams. “I was thinking—what if Nick was in our band?”

I pause, narrowing my eyes. “What?”

“Like, we could add a harmony line to the lead vocals, or maybe even rework our set list to include some duets. And, obviously, he could play guitar.”

“We have Nora.”

“Right, of course! But what if we had two lead guitarists? I just think it would add this extra dimension to the sound, you know? And obviously, having a guy in the band would add so much vocal range.”

“Yeah, but we’re an all-girl band. That’s kind of the point.”

Taylor nods eagerly. “Oh, totally. Like, I totally get that. But I was also thinking maybe it would be sort of cool to have, like, an all-girl band with a guy singer. You never see that. You always see an all-boy band with a girl singer, so this would be like a reversal, you know?”