Page 47 of Even Beneath the Stars

"Hey." Seb nudges me again and when my eyes meet his, says "Finn will be fine, man." Because apparently Seb's been paying closer attention than I thought and noticing more than I'm comfortable with anyone being aware of. Still, I can't be mad at him. It's cool he cares. And honestly, surprising he's so tuned in.

"Kids say shit all the time they don't mean," he adds, when I don't respond.

Not Finn. Not to me. We had a deal—unspoken but real. Us against them. Against the rules the nannies try to put between us in an attempt to control his life and push us apart.

And I broke it.

Scarlett must notice our more serious conversation, because she leans in. "What's going on, guys? Everything okay?"

I nod, forcing a grin. "All good." I knock my soda bottle against hers.

She studies me. "You sure? You seem kind of distracted… I thought you were bouncing off the walls to hear this band."

"Yeah." I toss the torn label I've been absently peeling off my bottle. "And they're sick."

"Really sick." She smiles and flicks the label back at me.

I stretch, trying to shake off the frustration at the sudden scrutiny. "Anyone want drinks? I'm getting another soda."

No-one wants anything, so I make my way over to the counter, nodding or saying a brief "hey" to people I know as I pass, but not stopping to talk. After I get a soda, I lean against the back wall and watch the band perform the last two songs of their first set.

When they take their break, I notice a couple of them beeline for the bathroom while Cam and the drummer head to the counter. I push off from my spot against the wall and approach them.

"Great first set, man." I nod at Cam. "Guitar solo on that second song was nuts."

They both mumble thanks, clearly drained from performing. Cam orders water and something else I can't hear over the between-set music playing through the speakers.

"Hey, you're Xavier, right?" Cam asks, turning to face me again as the drummer wanders off with a brief nod at us.

I furrow my brow, caught off guard. "Yeah…"

"Cool. Was gonna talk to you after the gig."

My confusion deepens. The only other time I've seen this guy was in passing when he was digging a hole or something for a sign on campus, but we've never spoken. Can't imagine what he'd want to discuss with me.

"Yeah?" I keep my tone neutral.

"Xave!" A shrill voice cuts through the music. Taylor and Anna from SH Prep materialize beside us. "We didn't know you'd be here tonight."

"Hey." I lift my chin in greeting.

They turn to Cam, gushing about the performance. "Those guitar solos were amazing."

"Thanks. Appreciate it." Cam's reply is polite but brief.

Another guy—think he's from Ocean Heights—pushes through to clap Cam on the shoulder. "Dude, your playing is sick. Like, seriously epic."

Before Cam can respond, Piper appears at my elbow, rocking hoop earrings the size of donuts. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks, I'm good." I hold up my full can.

Cam lets out a low laugh, watching the growing crowd around us. "Hey, man, want to step outside for a sec? So we can actually talk?"

"Yeah, sure."

We weave through the crowd and push through the heavy back door into the cold night air. The metal door clangs shut behind us, muffling the music and chatter from inside. Cold air hits my face and our breath fogs as Cam leads us toward the edge of a snowy dock. He takes a long chug of water, drumming the fingers of his other hand against the railing… and fifty bucks says the guy is a wicked drummer too, based on the complicated rhythm he's casually tapping out.

I can't for the life of me figure out what this guy could possibly want with me. Most people who seek me out want something—money, status, connections. But watching him perform tonight, seeing how he loses himself in the music, his chill demeanor… my gut tells me Cam's different. And now I really want to know—if I'm right and it isn't any of those things—then what could a guy who can make a guitar sing like that possibly want from a guy like me?

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