Page 6 of Take What You Want

Reid rolls his eyes. “We can’t sell out already.”

“It’s not selling out,” I placate. “It’s playing into our strengths.”

“You mean your strengths?” Walker asks, tapping his fingers against his biceps.

I shrug. My voice is better suited to a lighter, more pop-oriented sound than the punk roots we started with. And since Reid and Hayden both took to backing vocals, I’ve been considering the direction of our sound often. Especially as we’ve been reaching out to agents and trying to get signed.

“Just a thought,” I say, playing it off like it’s nothing because I know with Reid and Walker, they both want to think that something is their idea.

I’m not the leader. I’m not the “ideas” guy or the executor. I’m the lyrical one, the creative one, the one with a vision but not always the capability to make it happen.

That’s where we complement each other well.

I drop it, but I can tell they are chewing over the suggestion as Hayden rejoins us.

“Everything good?” Walker asks him.

He nods and runs a hand through the dark hair hanging in his eyes. “Yep. Just wondering what time they needed to be here tonight.”

“Your brothers tagging along, too?” Reid asks.

“No. Lucas is too small to be at a show like this. Will’s been begging them to lie about his age to get him in, but they’re not budging.”

We all laugh, and I say, “Milo asked if he could borrow my ID to get in. Idiot didn’t think that the workers wouldn’t notice that a random guy was using the ID of one of the band members playing tonight.”

My brother and Hayden’s middle brother usually come to our shows, but as the crowds are starting to get bigger, our parents have been keeping them away until they get a bit older.

“Are both of your parents coming tonight, too?” Walker asks me.

Hayden and I both have to have at least one of our parents here because we’re not eighteen yet. The bar is lowering the ageof entry for the show to sixteen so that more of our classmates can come, but the manager still insisted that the two of us who aren’t adults yet have parents onsite.

“I think just my dad,” I answer. “Once my mom found out that I had invited him too, she suddenly had a conflict with work.”

My best friends eye me with varying mixes of pity and compassion. I shrug it off, not wanting to start down that path today. Their divorce has been ongoing for a few months now and I don’t want to spend a single part of this night thinking about it.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t even think my foster parents know we’re doing this show tonight or even where I am.” Reid chuckles darkly.

All of us shift our attention to him, shocked that he even brought them up. It’s rare that Reid ever talks about his home life. When he moved here sophomore year, he gave us the basics: he moved to Pittsburgh from Philly, he has no biological siblings, and he’s never met his dad. Whenever any of us asked him about his mom, he shut down and would sometimes go days without talking to anyone. So we all quickly learned not to pry.

Walker is the quickest to recover. He jabs Reid’s side playfully as he says, “Both of my folks are coming and I’ll slip them a $20 to make sure they cheer for you, too.”

Reid snorts and shoves him away. “I don’t have to pay anyone to scream my name.” The two of them continue to bicker playfully while Hayden and I watch them, amused at the scene.

The sweet scent of roses and vanilla hits me before her voice does. “Those two fake-fighting again?”

My attention is pulled away from the guys and turned to one of my best friends. Jane’s calculating gaze meets my own and it makes something in my chest quicken at the sight of her deep jade eyes shining in the dim lighting. Her cheeks match the same soft shade of pink as her round lips and the bottom one looksslightly swollen, like she’s been chewing on it while she’s been studying. She tends to do that a lot.

“Always,” I snort. While Walker and Hayden have been friends the longest, Reid and Walker quickly bonded when I brought him into the fold when we started the band. They enjoy testing the other as both are alphas and seeing who will relinquish first.

It’s usually Reid.

Not because he likes to back down.

But because he doesn’t care enough to actually fight it.

It’s hard to sweat the small things like who’s going to be the one to negotiate with venues when he sometimes wonders whether his foster parents are going to buy groceries for the kids or not.

He let that slip one night as we laid in my backyard with a six-pack split between us. The look of horror when he realized he said it aloud had me promising that I’d never tell another soul.

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