Unforgiven (30 page)

“I don't know if I'd say
friends,
” Lilith said, “but we hashed some stuff out the other day. She's not so bad. And she's right.” Lilith raised an eyebrow. “You'd better treat me right.”

“I know,” Cam said. It was the thing he felt most committed to in the universe.

Lilith took his blue prom-court sash and pitched it into a nearby trash can. “Now that that's settled, let's make a plan.” She glanced at her watch. “The battle starts in twenty minutes. I think we have time for a dance before we have to get ready.”

“You're the boss,” Cam said, drawing Lilith close and moving toward the dance floor.

Luckily the next song was a slow one, the kind that seemed to make everyone want to wrap their arms around someone. Soon, Lilith and Cam were surrounded by couples, the dance floor bright with jewel-colored dresses and elegantly contrasting tuxedos. Kids Cam had passed a dozen times in the forgettable halls of Trumbull now looked extraordinary under the starlight, smiling as they swayed to the music. It tormented Cam that everyone here felt like they were on the brink of everything, when in fact they were only on the brink of the end.

He drew Lilith close. He focused on her only. He loved the light touch of her fingers on his shoulders. He loved the way her iris corsage smelled against her skin and the heat of her against him. He closed his eyes and let the rest of Crossroads disappear, imagining they were alone together.

They had only danced together once before last night at Rattlesnake Creek, in Canaan, by the river, right after Cam had proposed. He remembered how Lilith had seemed featherlight that first time they had danced, rising off the ground with the slightest sway of Cam's body.

She felt the same right now. Her feet skimmed the dance floor, and she looked up at Cam with pure delight in her eyes. She was happy. He could feel it. He was, too. He closed his eyes and let his memory take them back to Canaan, where they'd once been so open and free.

“I love you,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

“What'd you say?” Lilith shouted, her voice barely louder than the music. “You're looking for the bathroom?” She pulled away and glanced around, looking for signs for the men's room.

“No, no,” Cam said, drawing her back into his arms, wishing he hadn't spoiled the mood. “I said”—but he couldn't, not now, not yet—“I said
nice moves.
”

“Enjoy 'em while they last,” she shouted. “We gotta get backstage.”

The song ended, and everyone turned toward the stage as Tarkenton strode up the steps. He wore a navy tuxedo with a red rose pinned to his lapel. He tweaked his mustache and nervously cleared his throat as he approached the microphone.

“All contestants in tonight's Battle of the Bands should now have reported backstage,” he said, casting his gaze around the prom. “This is the last call for all contestants in the Battle of the Bands. Please use the door at stage left.”

“We're cutting it close,” Lilith said, grabbing Cam's hand and pulling him through the throng of students, closer to the stage.

“Don't I know it,” Cam muttered to himself.

They cut left, scooting around a girl and boy who were kissing as if they were the only ones in the room, then finding the black door at stage left where the contestants were supposed to check in.

Cam held it open for Lilith. On the other side was a dimly lit, narrow hallway.

“This way.” Lilith took his hand, gesturing to a poster with an arrow. They took a left and then a right, then found the row of dressing rooms with labeled doors: Love and Idleness, Death of the Author, the Perceived Slights, the Four Horsemen, and, at the end of the hall, Revenge. Lilith turned the knob.

Inside, Luis sat in a director's chair, shoveling peanut M&M's into his mouth, his feet up on a vanity. He had changed into a black cowboy shirt and white slacks, with a black fedora tilted low. His eyes were closed, and he was rehearing the backup harmonies to “Somebody's Other Blues” under his breath.

On a couch in the corner, Jean was making out with his girlfriend Kimi, who looked great in her long cranberry satin dress. He broke away from their kiss for a moment to look up and give Cam and Lilith a peace sign.

“Ready to rock, man?” he said, adjusting the tan leather fringed vest he'd found at the Salvation Army.

Behind them, Cam's guitar was propped against Jean's synth, next to Jean and Luis's tuxedos, which had been removed and hung up carefully—clearly by Jean's girlfriend.

Kimi stood up and straightened her dress. “Time for me to scoot,” she said. From the dressing-room door, she blew Jean a kiss. “Make me proud.”

Jean reached up to catch the air kiss, which made Cam and Lilith burst out laughing.

“It's our thing,” Jean said. “Do I make fun of you guys for getting into fights every fifteen minutes? I do not, because that's
your
thing.”

Cam glanced at Lilith. “We haven't fought in at least half an hour.”

“We're overdue,” Lilith agreed. Then she put her hand on Jean's shoulder. “Hey, thanks for putting up with all of our drama.”

“Nah,” Jean said. “You should see how Kimi gets when I don't return her texts in under sixty seconds.”

“It's prom!” Luis said. “When in the history of the world has the lead-up to prom not inspired major drama?” He pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket and practiced a drum roll on his thighs.

“Two minutes to show,” a voice called from the hallway. Cam leaned his head out to find Luc idling outside with a clipboard and a headset. He flashed Cam a lupine grin and lowered his voice to its true pitch. “You ready for this, Cambriel?”

“Born ready,” Cam said. Of course, that wasn't true. He hadn't even felt close to ready to win the wager against Lucifer until he'd held Lilith in his arms last night.

The devil laughed, popping a few of the lightbulbs in the ceiling with a cackle so grating it was inaudible to everyone but Cam. His voice went back to its fake smoothness when he announced, “All bands, report to your positions in the wings.”

Cam came back into the dressing room and closed the door, hoping the others couldn't tell he was riled. He glanced at Luis in the mirror. The drummer's complexion had turned sallow.

“You okay?” Cam asked.

“I think I'm going to be sick,” Luis said.

“I told you not to eat all those M&M's,” Jean said, shaking his head.

“It's not that.” Luis was breathing shallowly, resting his palms on the vanity. “None of you guys get stage fright?”

“I do,” Lilith said, and Cam looked over to find her trembling. “Two weeks ago I would never have thought I'd be standing here. Now that I am, I want to be great. I don't want to screw up because I'm nervous. I don't want to throw it all away.”

“The thing about performing music no one's heard before,” Jean said, tucking his Moog under his arm, “is no one knows if you screw up.”

“But
I
would know,” Lilith said.

Cam sat down on the vanity, facing Lilith. He touched her chin and said softly, “We just go out there and do our best.”

“What if my best isn't good enough?” Lilith asked, looking down. “What if this was all a mistake?”

Cam put his hands on her shoulders. “The measure of this band is not a three-minute performance at prom. The measure of this band is all the steps it took us to get here. You writing those songs. Us learning to play them together. All our practices. Our trip to the Salvation Army. The lyrics contest you won.”

He looked from Lilith to Jean to Luis and found them hanging on his words, so he kept going. “It's the fact that we all actually like each other now. And every time you threw me out of the band. And every time you graciously let me back in.
That's
Revenge. As long as we remember that, nothing can stop us.” He took a deep breath, hoping the others didn't notice the tremor in his voice. “And if we don't succeed, at least we'll have had this time together. Even if this
is
the end, it was worth it to get to play with you for a little while.”

Lilith tilted her head at Cam and gazed deep into his eyes. She mouthed something Cam didn't quite catch. His heart soared as he leaned close to her lips.

“What did you say?”

“I said
thank you.
I feel better now. I'm ready.”

Well, that was something. But would it be enough?

Cam lifted his guitar off its stand. “Let's go.”

The four members of Revenge gathered in a corner of the wings, instruments tucked under their arms. They were all supposed to enter from stage left, and there were no curtains separating the various acts, so the performers just huddled in little cliques. There was a certain electricity backstage, made of nerves and anticipation and hair spray. Everyone could feel it.

From behind the curtain, Cam peeked out at the crowd on the dance floor. With the stage lights off, he could see them clearly. They were restless but excited, jostling each other, flirting, giggling over nothing, one boy bodysurfing through the mass of kids. Even the faculty hovering at the edges of the crowd seemed cheerful. Cam knew a band was lucky to have an audience in this mood. They wanted something from the show, something that matched their own energy that night, which was supercharged.

At the judges' table to the right of the stage, Tarkenton was trying to converse with four punk-rock boys. Cam had almost forgotten that Ike Ligon was judging this thing, and he was amused to see what passed for a “rock star” in Lilith's Hell. The lead singer of the band was pouty enough, with spiky blond hair and long, lean limbs, but the other three looked like they had about two brain cells between them. Cam reminded himself that this was Lilith's favorite band and told himself that maybe they looked better onstage.

A flash of movement behind the judges' table caught Cam's attention. Arriane and Roland were there, setting up folding chairs for Lilith's mother and brother. Arriane caught Cam's eye and pointed:
Look up.
He glanced overhead and was cheered to see that she had somehow hung the disco ball from the rafters above the stage.

He looked back to Arriane and gestured his applause.
Nice,
he mouthed. Cam thought of all that his friends had done for him last night at Rattlesnake Creek, and wondered if he could have gotten this far with Lilith without them.

Roland looked up at the stars, worry straining his smooth brow. Cam's gaze followed his friend's. The starlight, which seemed strangely bright tonight, wasn't starlight at all. Instead, Lucifer's demons had gathered high in the firmament above. It was their eyes that shone like stars through the wildfire smoke. Cam bristled, knowing they were here to see what would become of him. The Trumbull kids weren't the only ones eager for a big performance tonight.

The houselights went out.

The crowd fell silent as a spotlight found Luc. He had changed into a blue pin-striped suit, wing-tip shoes, and a fuchsia pocket square. He held a gold-plated microphone and smiled at a teleprompter.

“Welcome to the Trumbull prom,” his voice boomed. Whoops rose from the audience until Luc waved one hand and silenced the crowd. “I am honored to play a role in this momentous occasion. I know you're all eager to know who will be crowned prom king and queen. Coach Burroughs is backstage now, tallying your votes. First, we will commence with the much-anticipated Battle of the Bands.”

“We love you, Chloe!” a few kids screamed from the front row.

“Some of the bands you'll hear are fan favorites,” Luc said. “Some are relative unknowns, even to their relatives…” He waited for laughter, but instead, a half-full can of soda landed at his feet.

“Some,” Luc continued, his voice darkening, “have never stood a chance.” He turned and winked at Cam. “Here to fire the first shot, Love and Idleness!”