Page 49 of Even Beneath the Stars

She's bobbing her head to the music, completely lost in it. No pretense, no calculated moves—just genuine happiness. A long-shot from the scheming, gold-digger persona my brain's been trying to carve her into. This girl who somehow went out of her way to talk me up to Cam. Called my music good enough that he'd want me in his band—after I've been a Grade A asshole to her for the past month.

She catches me staring and raises an eyebrow. I quickly look away, focusing on the band. But my thoughts keep circling back. What's her angle? There's got to be one. Like maybe she's trying to get me out of the house more, so I don't keep interfering with the routines she's set up for Finn. Throw less parties. Stay out of her hair.

But then I see her air-drumming along with Tyler's solo, this little half-smile on her face, completely unselfconscious. And I realize the scheming and plotting angle is not in line with the girl I'm seeing tonight.

Shit, maybe there is no angle.

Maybe she just… heard something she liked and told someone about it.

It's a thought I'm not sure what to do with. Throws me totally off balance, because it's foreign and honestly reallyintimidating.

"Hey, man, I'm Liam." The blond surfer guy stretches across the table, hand extended. His grip is solid, calloused from what I'm guessing are hours of holding surf boards and bass guitars.

"Bass player, right?"

His eyebrows lift slightly as we shake hands. "Yeah. You must've been talking to Cam."

"Just now, yeah." Then I add, "Xavier, by the way."

"Rockwell, I know." The music's thumping through the floorboards, so he leans in closer. "Maggie says you've got some pipes. Hope you come out and jam Sunday."

I find myself nodding. "Yeah, maybe I will."

The band launches intoLast Niteby The Strokes, and suddenly I'm not just hearing the music—I'm dissecting it. Breaking down how Cam's guitar weaves with Tyler's drums, the way the bass line holds it all together. My fingers twitch, already mapping out the chord progressions.

But then I imagine myself up there, in front of all these people, and my stomach does a slow roll. Music has always been a private thing for me, up in the dusty Observatory where no one can see me fumble through new songs or working out lyrics that probably suck three-quarters of the time.

Seb catches my eye from across the table, grinning as he drums his fingers against Caroline's curl-covered head. He'd probably lose his mind if he knew I was considering this. He's been trying to get me to play for people since he caught me with my guitar sophomore year.

The thing is, watching these guys on stage, there's this… energy. This back-and-forth between them that makes the music feel alive. Different from playing alone in an empty room at the top of a tower like freaking Rapunzel. I can't help thinking how incredible it would feel to be part of something like that.

Fuck me.I don't know.

I watch Maggie slide off her chair and weave through the crowd toward the order counter. After a minute, I follow.

She's pulling cash from her wallet when I reach over her shoulder, and hand my card to the cashier. "I got it."

"I can buy my—"

"Consider it a thank you."

She grabs her Coke and I'm relieved when I see she's followed me to a spot against the back wall where the music isn't as bone-crushingly loud, confusion written across her face. A neon coffee cup sign above us casts weird shadows, making her hair look more lavender than pink.

"So, Cam just asked to talk to me outside." I lean against the wall, hands in my pockets.

Maggie's eyes widen. "He did? Oh, that's awesome. His band is breaking up and—"

"Yeah, I know." I cut her off, running a hand through my hair. "Look, I wanted to thank you. For recommending me to him. Especially after…" I swallow hard, force myself to meet her eyes. "Especially after how I've treated you since you moved in. You didn't have to do that."

She takes a sip of her Coke, studying me over the rim. "No, I didn't."

"So why did you?"

"Because you're good." She shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. "I heard you singing that night in the Observatory. Talent shouldn't go to waste just because the person who has it is a real dick sometimes."

I chuckle, tapping my thumbs to the beat even though my hands are in my pockets. My gaze drops to my beat-up Vans. "Anyway, it was really… decent of you. So, thanks."

She takes another sip of Coke, and for once, there's no sharp comeback, no biting remark. Just a small nod.

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