Music has always been a higher power of sorts for me. There’s something about a song that can say more with a few words than I could ever manage in an essay.
I take a deep breath when the song reaches the chorus, singing along quietly. It’s not really a quiet kind of song, but I don’t have it in me to belt it like it deserves. As sad as I am, the song is still too fun to not get lost in it, so I manage to lose myself just a little. When the music wraps up, Miss Celine splits us into groups. I end up paired with Raleigh, and he saunters over to the back corner where I’ve been hiding all class long.
“I did not expect the QB to be a singer,” I tease as he takes the seat beside me.
He grins at me before twisting his chair so he can face me with ease. “There’s a lot more to me than being a QB.”
“I have no doubt. You seem like the white knight type,” I say with an easy laugh, and he brushes off the backhanded compliment, completely unfazed.
“I might have something of a hero complex, but only when it’s needed. I’m all about independent women owning their shit.” His grin widens, and I can’t help but laugh at him. He really is something else. “As for singing, my grandma was a singer. She used to have me singing blues with her as a kid, and I’ve loved it ever since. This was a just-for-fun class for me this year. I don’t need the art credits or anything.”
“An overachiever too, I see.”
“I do like to excel at everything I do.” He flexes his arms as he talks, wagging his eyebrows in an over exaggerated sort of way, making me laugh once more. “Speaking of, you should come to our first game. We’re playing the Asheville Allstars. The guys there can be total douchebags, but I have a feeling we’re going to fucking annihilate them this year.”
“When’s the game?”
“Next week.”
“I’ll be there! I’m sure Indi will come with me, and I hope like hell she has a better understanding of football than me. Otherwise, we’re going to end up cheering for the wrong team. Either way, we’ll definitely be there!” He looks horrified at the thought, which only makes it that much more comical.
“Don’t worry,” he says, nodding sagely as he pats my arm, “I’ll make sure to give you an idiot’s guide at the party this weekend.”
“You usually spend time at parties explaining football to girls?” I ask, an eyebrow raised.
His shit-eating smile is back as he pretends to dust off his shoulders. “Nah, I don’t usually have to flex that hard.”
“You’re such a jock!” I tease, throwing my pen at him.
“I’ll show you how much of a jock I’m not. Come on,” he says as he stands, offering me his hand. This is the most fun I’ve had inside these walls, so I place my hand in his and let him lead me from the room. He pulls me inside one of the other music rooms a few doors down, and I crane my neck while I look around. The ceiling is ridiculously high and one of the walls is fully glass, looking out over the field at the side of the school. A lone piano sits in the corner of the room near the windows, and he takes a seat, clearing his throat before placing his fingers on the ivory.
A lump threatens to choke me as he starts to play a haunting melody, and then… it hits me. It’s a remix of one of Dad’s songs. I go to stop him, but he opens his mouth, and I’m struck fucking stupid.
The boy can sing.
How does he get to look and sound like sin?
He sings the entire song, with so much passion and emotion that I feel a tear trickle down my cheek—I’ve not listened to any of Dad’s songs since his death, and I can’t lock my emotions down. I swipe it away quickly, not wanting him to see just how affected I am. “That was amazing.”
My voice is scratchy as fuck, and it’s instantly obvious that I didn’t hide my sadness well because he jumps up and rushes over to wrap me in the biggest hug I’ve had in months. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s okay, it’s all just kind of… raw still,” I murmur, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. It’s rare that I take comfort from people I don’t really know, but there’s just something about him that tears down all of my carefully constructed walls.
“This looks cozy.” My spine goes rigid at the voice, and dread pools in my stomach with his presence. I pull back from Raleigh at the words and turn to find Maverick standing in the open doorway.
“What is it to you, Riley?” Raleigh snaps at him, keeping his arm hooked over my shoulder.
Maverick’s dark hair falls into his brown eyes as he smirks at Raleigh in that ruthless, malicious way he has. It’s like every super villain's smile you see on the TV. He somehow seems fucking lethal with just a goddamn smile. “She’s off-limits.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Raleigh says, maneuvering himself so he’s standing just in front of me. Maverick saunters forward until he's toe-to-toe with Raleigh, crazy-bastard vibes rolling from him.
“You should leave now, quarterback, or I’ll end your promising career before it begins.” He stays in Raleigh’s space, and I watch as Raleigh pales. Maverick pushes him, hard enough to make him stumble. He shrinks back from Maverick, who grins wickedly before turning his focus to me. He steps toward me, and I hate that I falter, that I take a step back. The smile on his face grows until he has me pushed against a wall.
“You won’t get away with this,” Raleigh hisses.
“Oh really? Who’s going to do anything about it? You?” Mav taunts him without taking his eyes from me, and I shrink under his intense gaze.
“Yeah, I am,” Raleigh says, but what he thinks he’s going to achieve other than pissing Maverick off is beyond me.