Leah on the Offbeat (Creekwood #2)(34)

15


THEY LOCK THE MUSIC ROOM on school vacations. Which would have been fine. I’m not dying to revisit the Morgan and Anna shitshow anytime soon. But then I made the mistake of telling Taylor about Nick’s drum kit—the one he can’t even play—which made Taylor realize that rehearsing in Nick’s basement was her life’s great purpose.

So, now it’s Saturday, and I’m waiting for my ride to Nick’s house. From Garrett, our brand-new keyboardist. Apparently, that’s a thing that’s happening. I’m actually nervous, waiting for him to get here. For one thing, Garrett and I haven’t been alone together since I asked him to prom, but he’s texted me a lot. Definitely more than usual. I guess it’s starting to feel like Garrett’s a question I’ll eventually have to answer. Like there’s an asterisk by his name.

It’s sunny and cool out, so I wait for him on my stoop. I feel pretty antsy. I mean, part of it’s just knowing that Morgan quit the band. Because of me. God knows Anna won’t let me forget that. But how am I supposed to even talk to Morgan, let alone make music with her? What would Abby think of me then?

Before long, Garrett pulls up in his mom’s minivan. He parks and then immediately hops out to open the passenger door.

“Do you not know how to turn off the child locks, or something?” I ask, because I have to give him shit. I have to. He’s Garrett.

“What? Dude. I’m being a gentleman.”

A gentleman. Who calls me dude. I should definitely not be charmed by this. I click my seat belt into place.

“What’s in the envelope?” He glances at my lap.

“It’s a drawing, for Taylor’s birthday.”

“I didn’t know it was Taylor’s birthday,” he says.

I mean, you have to admire Taylor. She knows exactly what she wants, and she just makes it happen. I don’t know what her deal is with Nick, but clearly, his house is where she wants to spend her birthday. And boom. Here we are.

“So, Morgan really quit the band, huh?” Garrett asks after a moment.

“Yup.”

“Weird. I wonder why.”

“I know why. It’s because she doesn’t want to deal with me.”

“How could anyone not want to deal with you, Burke?” He pokes my arm, and my stomach sort of lurches. Like, how do I even respond to that?

“She didn’t like being called out,” I say finally.

He stops at a red. “You mean about the Abby thing?”

“It’s not about Abby. It’s about Morgan being racist.”

“You think she’s racist?”

“You were there.”

“I mean, she shouldn’t have said that, but don’t you think she’s just bitter? She’d just gotten rejected.”

I whip my head toward him. “Yeah, you don’t even get it.”

“Okay.” He tilts his hands up. “Explain it to me.”

“I mean, Morgan one hundred percent implied that Abby got into Georgia because she’s black.”

“Right. And obviously she’s wrong about that.”

“She’s super wrong.” I clasp my hands. “You know Abby got a perfect score on the SAT reading, right? And she makes straight As.”

“Really?”

“Yup, the only reason she’s not in the top ten is because she transferred, and the classes from her old school aren’t weighted the same.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“And look at what she does for extracurriculars. God. But Morgan’s going to say she didn’t deserve Georgia? Fuck that.”

For a moment, Garrett doesn’t speak—he just turns onto Nick’s street. Simon and Nick’s neighborhood looks like a storybook illustration, with its carefully mowed lawns, painted shutters, and buds on all the dogwoods. He pulls up along the curb by Nick’s house and turns off the ignition.

“So, has anyone ever told you that you cuss a lot?” he says finally.

“Oh, fuck you.” But the corners of my lips twitch upward.

“Look. You’re right. Morgan was an asshole,” he says. Then he turns to face me, head-on. “How do you know so much about Suso?”

“What? I don’t.” My heart leaps into my throat.

Garrett looks at me strangely. “Okay.”

We hop out of the car, and there’s Taylor, sitting on the stoop next to two guitar cases. “Hey, birthday girl,” I call out, walking toward her. She flashes me an electric-bright smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

I settle in beside her, punching her softly in the arm. “You okay?”

“Of course!” She nods. “Hey, have y’all heard from Nick?”

“Well, no, but, uh. We’re at his house.”

“Right.” Taylor nods. “But, like . . . no one’s home?”

“Maybe his parents are at a workshop?” I mean, they’re doctors. It happens.

“Oh, totally,” Taylor says, looking unconvinced. “But Nick should be here. We just texted this morning.”

“Weird,” Garrett says.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

“I’m sure he’s in the basement playing video games.” I shrug. “He probably didn’t hear you knock.”