“Oh, I saw it,” I reply with a laugh. “I also saw him testing it in the break room. It smells like burnt toast back there.”
Alex snorts. “Classic Mason.”
Parents chat in groups near the snack table, and kids dart around, chasing each other in that sugar-fueled pre-show chaos. A donation jar sits front and center on a table covered in glittery fabric, already holding a respectable amount of cash. Next to it, a sign reads: Help Us Bring More Joy to Our Youth!
Chantelle and Jazlyn are helping my parents keep the food and snacks coming for the hungry guests. I hope that I figured in enough food to keep the hungry teenagers happy.
Mental note: if Mason and Alex are helping, I need enough food for two football teams.
“Testing, testing,” Mason’s voice booms over the microphone, startling everyone. I glance at the stage to see him grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’re kicking things off in five minutes! Get ready to sing your hearts out!”
The night takes off with a bang. One of the kids, ten-year-old Cassie, belts out “Let It Go” with a level of confidence that leaves the room roaring with applause. Her dad, a burly man with a beard that would make Santa jealous, joins her for the second verse. The sight of him twirling his daughter around the stage is enough to warm even the iciest heart.
By the time the second act finishes, I’m in the middle of an impromptu conga line with a group of middle schoolers. Mason, wearing sunglasses indoors for some reason, jumps in front of me with an exaggerated shimmy that sends the kids into hysterics.
“Don’t quit your day job,” I yell over the music, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“Don’t quit yours either,” he shoots back. “We’d be lost without you.”
Around halfway through the night, TJ shows up.
I spot him near the snack table, dressed in his usual workplace attire, looking completely out of place but somehow at ease. He picks up a cookie, waves it at me, and starts heading in my direction. I groan in irritation. Seriously, this guy is like a cockroach.
“Hey, Maya,” he says, his voice warm and familiar. “This is quite the party you’ve got going.”
“It’s a fundraiser,” I correct. “But thanks. You coming to sing something?”
He shakes his head with a smirk. “Not my scene. I just came to see if you needed—”
“Hey!” Garrett’s voice cuts through the noise. I turn to see him weaving through the crowd, his smile bright and disarming as always.
“Perfect timing,” he says, grabbing my arm gently. “We need you to settle a debate.”
I blink at him. “What debate?”
“Alex thinks the fog machine is too much,” Garrett replies, pulling me toward the stage. “Mason thinks it’s essential. You’re the boss—settle this.”
“Garrett, I was—” I glance back at TJ, but he’s already turned away, blending back into the crowd.
I would rather hang out with Garrett anyway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He smiles a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. “A worthy cause,” he teases. Can I grab you a drink?”
“Yeah,” I stammer.
Did he come here to see me?
I shake my head. While the kiss was amazing, it doesn’t matter if he came here for me, I cannot do this with him. I need to steer clear.
Chapter Eleven
Garrett
Maya is standing in front of me, looking beautiful in a pair of jeans and a shimmery black top. It’s casual, but somehow perfect for this night.
I could lie to myself and say that I only came because it’s what my mother would have wanted, but the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss with Maya.