For Love or Money (12 page)

Normal
guys

James

I
hate that I’m sitting outside of the hall waiting for Lana, but my legs won’t
move.

I
hate it even more when she shows up with the same guy who was passed out on her
bed. She looks dolled up and confident, not looking the girl I like but the
society minx. Not until she lifts her face, mid-laugh at whatever clever thing
the preppy little bastard is saying. Then there is a moment where her eyes meet
mine, and I swear they sparkle more than all the stars in the sky. She has on a
short black skirt with knee-high leather boots and a teal sweater. Her
dark-blonde hair and tanned skin make her glow under the lights above.

I
look past her to the guy, wanting to give him a shitty glare but I can’t. He’s
giving me the same sweet smile she is. I don’t even know how to take it so I
just let them walk to me. He walks past but she stops, holding her violin case
with the ponies and stickers.

“So
what’s the plan for tonight?”

She
nods at the guy. “Brought my friend, Leo, to see if I can play for him, in
front of him.”

It
hits me then. “Is he the guy who sided with Nance in the big fight?”

She
shrugs. “He’s having a rough week.”

What
the hell? Did she send her sweet doppelganger to screw with my mind? “So you
just forgave him for humiliating you publicly and declaring you were a
virginity-stealing crack whore?”

She
sighs loudly and walks by me into the room.

That
might have been offside.

When
I get inside everyone is setting up. Leo is chatting up Mr. Sherman and not
looking at Lana at all. He looks really familiar but the rich kids all look the
same to me.

Lana
is still smiling. I don’t even know why it weirds me out. She’s a girl. She can
smile at whoever she wants to and she can screw whoever she wants. I have no
ownership over her. Being the first guy to make her feel something real in a
long time, isn’t anything to get worked up about. Clearly the kiss meant
nothing to her. I just need to make it mean nothing to me.

Nick
leans over, smelling her and grinning like he’s a wolf to her bunny. “You do
smell good.”

She
sniffs her shirt and shrugs but her cheeks are blushed.

I’m
having a hard time seeing her as the same girl as before. Unless I look at Leo,
then she is exactly the girl I remember. A weak girl who would forgive someone
for something completely horrible, just because she has no friends.

I
open my case and pull out my guitar. She’s running her bow over the strings,
making a sweet sound, almost like she has never been parted from the damned
thing.

Nick
nods at Leo. “Hey, man.”

Leo
waves back but the greeting is more than that. They’re exchanging some kind of
weird look.

Brandon
and Simon give me the go ahead, but I look at Lana for the start. She gives me
the same face they are. She wants me to be the leader of the pack.

“You
don’t want to decide on songs?”

She
shakes her head. She looks nervous suddenly. Her smile is pasted on her face
and there’s a trickle of sweat on her forehead.

She’s
going to freeze up.

I
nod at Nick. “Give the playbook a look and see if there is something you want
to play.” The guys all immediately look at it and start to joke about songs as
I saunter over to her, adjusting my guitar like it’s a casual chat. I don’t
look in her eyes. She gets cagey if you do that. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

She’s
not.

I
lift a hand, placing it on her forearm, massaging as I run my hand up and down.
“There is no one here, just us. Just stay calm and cool and watch me. Don’t
look at anyone else. Just pretend we’re the only people in the room—you
and me.” When I lift my eyes to hers I see something in them.

Something
beyond the panic.

She
bites her lip, smudging her lip gloss on her tooth. It makes me smile, which in
turn makes her return the look. She sighs and I see her breathing for the first
time in a whole minute as she whispers, “He’s gay.”

I
scowl and look around the room like she’s talking about someone specific. My
eyes land on Leo. He’s leaning into Mr. Sherman awfully close for a rich
player. “Really?”

She
laughs softly. “I knew you were pissed when you saw him, and I didn’t say
anything and I feel kind of weird about it. Like it made my stomach hurt.”

I
roll my eyes. “You feel guilty for making me think he had a sleepover?”

She
nods. “I did what I normally would do with a normal guy.”

I
cock an eyebrow, panicking a little bit. “I’m not a normal guy?”

She
shakes her head, biting her lip again.

“You’re
sort of hard on a guy’s ego.”

“I
have been doing the same thing for six years, getting the same results. They’ve
landed me here, I’ve—I’ve landed me here. I don’t want to be here. I
don’t want my dad to be mortified by me. I don’t want my mom to look down on me
from heaven and be ashamed. I want something different and I want to be
different.”

“The
girl believes in heaven?” I am stunned but I have to make a joke. I don’t know
what else to do, beyond sweep her into my arms.

She
nods but it looks like a twitch, it’s so subtle. “When one of your parents dies,
you have to believe they can still hear you.”

She
is killing me. She takes her violin and walks to the page of music. I can’t
look at her. I know how it feels to whisper your pain to the sky and pray that
your dead parent can hear it.

It
dawns on me then, I don’t know her at all.

I
don’t think anyone does.

Brandon
lifts his face from the page. “Uhh, James, uh can we do ‘9 Crimes’ by Damien
Rice?”

I
hate the way he treats me like I’m better than him. I lift my hands. “If Lana
is cool with singing Lisa Hannigan’s part, then I have no issue.”

Lana
frowns. “Sing?”

It
makes me smile. I know she can sing. I can tell.

She
looks at Brandon and nods. “Okay, but can you play the song once? I don’t think
I know if I remember it.”

He
pulls his phone out, finds the songs and starts it.

I
love this song. It’s off of Shrek and it’s an amazing song.

Her
eyes light up. “Shrek!”

Brandon
laughs. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Simon
winces. “That’s a pretty tough song.”

Lana’s
eyes meet mine. “I can do it. But it’s a weird song for a drummer to pick.”

“Are
there any drums at all?”

She
shakes her head. “Cymbals.”

Brandon
nods. “I know. I wanna test my delicate side.” It makes us laugh as a group and
his cheeks blush like a friggin’ schoolgirl’s would. He and Simon need to act
cooler if they want to perform on national TV. I make a note to get them
hammered and let some sorority sisters take advantage of them.

We
all stand in position. Nick starts with the keyboard, technically the most used
instrument in the song. His fingers are soft and fluid. Lana misses the cue and
he circles back, starting over again as she takes a breath, holding her violin
in place. She starts the song off. It’s soft and fragile the way she whispers
the words. She breathes the last bit out and I start my part. My eyes don’t
want to leave hers. The cold blue stare of her and the way her hand waves the
bow in front of the violin like a magician have me captivated.

We
lean in at the same time, singing the chorus together. It’s magical doing a
duet with a girl. I want to do it for every song. I want her to sing with me
always. She makes my voice sound strong to her feathery tones. The song ends
with the keyboard and the hard beating of my heart.

The
guys howl and shout. Nick laughs and shouts louder than the rest. “LANA
WEBBER!”

She
shakes her head, looking down. She’s humble? Jesus. I don't even know what the
devil to think about her.

“Lana,
you are good! Like holy-shit good!” Leo comes running to the front of the room
and wraps his arms around her, spinning her around. When he puts her down I
feel like I’m standing outside of the circle, stuck in the moment we were
having singing together.

Leo
is gushing along with everyone else but she is looking down. She isn’t
confident or cocky or mean-girl self-assured. “Whatever. My dad made me take
lessons. Everyone is good with lessons.”

Leo
puts his hand up by his eyes and makes a gesture like his head is blowing up,
while Nick swings an arm around her shoulders.

She
points at the songbook and laughs. “Just shut up and pick another one.” She
doesn't want the attention. Her eyes glance up through her lashes, searching
for my eyes. When they meet mine I can’t breathe.

I
know there is a stupid grin on my face, the dopey kind you wish you didn't
accidentally make when a girl looks at you, but somehow you always do. It makes
her laugh but Nick holds the songbook in my face, jabbering on about wanting to
do at least one Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

But
I can hardly hear him. I’m stuck on her and the horrid suspicion I have about
where my feelings are going to get me.

We
play into the night, Leo dancing and Mr. Sherman sitting with a smile on his
face like he’s at the Red Door in Nashville. He even has one leg crossed over
the other with his foot in the air, tapping.

At
midnight we’re exhausted but I have never had more fun jamming in all my life.
She didn't want to sing again and used her veto on every duet, but she played
her heart out.

We
also learned Simon is a badass singer. Between the five of us, musical talent
is natural, entirely, and to top that off, there is passion in each person.
Even Nick, which is more surprising than Lana.

PTSD

Lana

Leo
stays until the end of the night, sort of not what I expected. So when it’s
time to leave, he walks me back to dorms, regardless of the fact my head keeps
turning back, searching for James.

Leo
nudges me. “You need to get Simon and Brandon laid. They’re so virginal it’s
going to scare off the ladies. A band needs to know how to move inside of a
woman if they want to move a woman.”

It’s
completely pervy but he’s super right. I nod. “We should get them drunk and
hire some entertainment.”

Leo
grins and opens the door to dorms. “Let me handle that. I know a guy. He can
hook us up.”

My
instant alarms go off. “No. The last time you threw the party I caught shit.”

He
holds his middle finger up. ”Nice—grudge holder much? So you know a guy
to call about hookers, do you?” He spins around and walks up the stairs
backward mocking me.

I
pull a duck lips shrug. “Maybe.”

He
winks. “Can’t wait to see what you got!”

I
wave as I pass by his room, leaving him there opening his door.

“Lana!”

I
look back, feeling an inner glow from the night and the patched friendship I
didn't know I cherished as much as I do.

He
smiles. “Thanks for forgiving me and thank you for taking me tonight. You are
way badass. Way more badass than I ever knew possible.”

“Thank
you.” I’m not sure it’s a compliment but I feel badass. I feel like I can
conquer the world. I sang and I played, granted it was only in front of two
people. But it’s all baby steps. Maybe next time I can play in front of three
people. I open the door to my room and put my violin down. I am just in the
middle of wishing my dad could have seen, when there’s a knock at the door.

I
know it’s Leo wanting to sleep over. If it were me I wouldn't want to be alone
the day my entire family disowned me either. I open the door without asking who
it is, jumping back a bit when I see James. He looks weird and he’s breathing
funny.

Jesus,
is he actually the foot pervert? ‘Cause that would not be awesome.

He
leans on the doorframe and catches his breath. “Sorry, I ran and dropped my
guitar off. I just—” He shakes his head and reaches for my face, cupping
and pulling me into him.

His
lips crash against mine in desperate passion. He lifts me up into his arms,
kicking the door shut and carrying me to the bed. My legs are wrapped around
him, and my hands are scratching at his shirt, clawing for it to come off. He
smells like a man, but not like any man I have ever kissed. Everything about
him is bigger and scarier. So when he lays me back on the bed and slides
between my thighs, sucking my tongue and grinding against me—I freeze.

I
don't know why but I do.

He
kisses my cheek, whispering. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

I
pull back. “I just—I don't want to do this.”

“What?
Why not? I can tell you do.” He chuckles, shaking his head against my cheek and
taking a deep breath.

“I
don't, actually.”

He
doesn't say anything, he just gets up and walks to the door. He looks back.
“What are you doing? What game is this one?”

“It’s
not a game, James. I just—I don't want to do this. Not like this.”

He
laughs and I have a bad feeling it’s at me. He turns and leaves, slamming the
door and somehow I feel like an asshole.

I
don't know what it is at first, but when I do figure it out, my heart breaks. I
lay in bed desperate for sleep but it doesn't come. So I do a random thing I
don't think I should—I text Nick for an address. His response is not just
an address but also a grainy selfie with him making out with some random girl.

I
grab my coat and run out of the room and down the hall, hurrying before I lose
my edge.

When
I get to his door I have to take three breaths before I can even knock, and
when I do it’s timid and weak and not my knock at all. I can’t believe I’m
going to do what I’m doing.

He
doesn't answer so I knock again with a little more force.

When
he does he still looks ruffled. He steps back, letting me into his dorm. It’s
dimly lit and plain and smells like the hallway. He closes the door and leans
his back against it, but doesn't say anything. So I do. “James, I like you. I
like you more than I like guys, ever. I don't want you to think of me as me. I
want you to ask me out for dinner or to a movie or to come and watch your
soccer game or something not sneaky and secret. And not just sex. I want
something different with you. I want to be different. You already make me feel
like I am.”

His
eyebrows lift. “You came here at three in the morning to tell me that?” he asks
it like I’m an idiot.

I
nod, almost scared of his reaction.

He
sighs. “So back there, I made you feel like—?”

“Please
don't. Can we just not ever talk about it again? I don't know what’s wrong with
me lately, but it’s making me see things differently. The violin and the
singing and the no drugs and everything. It’s just making me see things
clearer, I think. Or my withdrawals are actually hallucinations of grandeur and
my violin is nowhere near as good as I think it is.”

“We
both know you’re good.” He laughs. “You are making my head feel like it’s gonna
explode. You have me up and down, and I can’t think about anything but you.
Which is obviously helped by the fact your picture is on almost every paper and
magazine lately. The secrecy is because I don't want anyone to know, for
you—not me. I don't care if people see us together. I assumed you wanted
privacy.” He gives me a sexy smile. “And you are blackmailing me.”

I
roll my eyes. “I never would have told a soul about that.”

“I
know.” He takes a step toward me. “I also know that you aren’t nearly as fake
and petty as you always act. I was happy your father did this to you. I hoped
it would make you straighten up and fly right. I want you to know, if I’d known
about your mom I never would have gone about things the way I did.” My eyebrows
knit together but he walks to me and runs his hands down my cheek. “I like you
too. Not how I like other girls. I WANT you to come to my soccer games and give
me that look you did when we were singing tonight, and I want to be the only
person in the world who knows everything about you. Not what’s in the papers
and not what shit you do in public that always lands you in trouble. I want to
be the one lucky person who knows you like cats and no sweetener in your tea
and that you hate scary movies but you watch them anyway.”

It
makes me smile. “I like sweet tea. I don't like scary movies, and if I watch
them you have to promise you will cover my eyes but tell me what’s happening
for all the scary parts. I do like cats, I had one when I was little. His name
was Felix and I thought I was so clever having a Felix the Cat.”

“I
will do anything in this world for you if you promise to stop letting old Lana
work her way back in.” He kisses my cheek and holds a hand out to his bed. “You
take my bed and I’ll take the sofa.”

I
look at the bed and shake my head, taking his hand in mine and pulling him to
the bed. I kick off my shoes and climb under his sheets in my clothes. “We can
be mature and have a sleepover.”

“I
don't know that we can be mature.” He makes a throaty noise and climbs in with
me, not getting too close though. “You are trying to kill me. I know it.”

I
glance over at him. “You knew I wouldn't tell anyone and you joined the band
anyway?”

“Well,
I didn't know for a hundred percent but I suspected. I also knew it would be a
good chance to give you back the violin. Your dad made me promise that I would
try to make you remember how much you loved music, once upon a time. He had a
feeling I could.” The smile on his face makes me want to kiss him, but since
I’ve laid down the rules of engagement, I don't. I just stare into his
dark-green eyes until I can’t keep mine open anymore. It’s so weird my dad
trusted him with that.

When
I wake up he’s gone but there is note on the pillow.

Lana,

Had an early practice. We have a big game tonight.
I was sort of hoping you would come and watch it. I missed waking up next to
you. Well I did wake up next to you but I tried real hard not to stare and
watch you sleep. Real hard!

James

It’s
creepy and yet not. He has pretty penmanship for a guy. I look around the room
and resist every single urge I have to snoop.

That
is an old Lana trait.

But
damn I want to.

I
get up and walk to the bathroom and close the door and lock it. When I see the
other door I realize he must have to share with someone and lock that door too.

His
bedroom door busts open. I slip to the door and press my ear up against it as
Andy storms in talking loudly. “Dude, where are you? We have to go. I phoned
three times. Where are you?” he knocks on the door, making me take a step back.

I
hold my breath and try desperately not to make a sound. It feels like one of
our sex games, only it’s real.

“Lana!”

How
the shit?

The
note.

My
heart is pounding and my stomach hurts.

“Lana,
are you in there?” he pounds on the door. I walk back, pressing my back on the
other door.

Do
I care that Andy knows I’m here?

“Andy?”

He
thumps the door. “Lana, is that you?”

“Yeah.
What are you doing here?” I have no idea why I feel so weird. Andy and me have
never been anything but bed buddies.

“Open
the door.”

I
don't want to. I’m still pissed about the whole library thing.

“I’m
going to the bathroom.”

“I’ve
seen you pee, Lana.”

I
grimace, remembering that time and shake my head. “You were drunk as hell and
that was you who peed on me. I left pissed off remember?”

He
chuckles. “Oh yeah. You mean pissed on!” he laughs too hard at his own joke.

It
makes me roll my eyes.

He
hits the door again but not as hard. “Just open up. I want to talk to you.”

“No!”

Someone
else joins the conversation. “Dude?” James is back and I feel dirty, really
dirty. “What are you doing here?” He sounds annoyed.

Andy
hits the door. “Having a chat with Lana. You know, my fuck buddy you stole from
me. It’s cool if we share, James, but I want her back. Preferably not too used
up too. I don't mind sword fights if you’re interested. In fact, three ways are
more fun—“ His words are cut off by the sound of one person punching the
shit out of another. I know exactly how this fight will turn out so I open the
door and they fall in on me. Andy lands on me, laughing and bleeding. “I give,
Jesus. The slut is yours.”

James’
face is one I don't think I have ever seen on another human being. He pulls
back to punch again, but I reach up through Andy’s arms. “PLEASE! DON’T!”

James
snaps out of it, staring down on me with hatred in his eyes. They soften and his
hand stops shaking. He grabs Andy and pulls him off of me, tossing him into the
hall. “I hear you so much as talk about her, you’re a de—“ I jump up onto
James’ back and slap my hands around his mouth, waving at Andy with my other
hand. I jump down and drag him back inside. We’re both shaking.

His
eyes are psycho scary but his voice is calm. “Did he touch you?”

I
shake my head.

His
nostrils flare and I feel sick suddenly. James must think I’m the biggest whore
ever. Fuck, I was the biggest whore ever and now it’s coming back full circle.
I shake my head, refusing to slut shame myself. I had fun. It was fun. James
can hate me for being Andy’s gal pal, but I won’t ever admit it wasn't a
complete sexcapade.

His
green eyes are clouded over and I imagine he’s judging me for half a second,
until he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. He breathes
into my hair, still worked up and puffing from the fight. “I’ll kill anyone who
touches you.”

I
pull back. “Okay, whoa. Not actually necessary. My dad has produced some badass
rappers in his day. He knows some thugs. They actually enjoy jail. They get
more material there and street cred, so if I need anyone whacked, you’re not
doing it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “You don't have to protect me from
anyone but myself. Andy doesn't scare me. I know allllll his dirty secrets. And
honestly, all I have to do is command him as Mistress Lana and he stops, drops,
and gives me fifty—naked.”

He
cocks an eyebrow and stiffens everywhere.

I
chuckle nervously. Apparently, I am less funny than I think I am. “But we don't
ever have to talk about it again. Whatever your comfort level with discussing
my previous affairs is at is cool with me.”