Page 22 of Ordinary Secrets

He only flinches as it hits his arm, falls to the floor, and rolls away. The tall guy behind him flicks his wrist in circles. A tornado appears in front of me, sucking me into it. The air leaves my lungs as I spin until my back slams against the wall. I fall to my knees and gasp for a breath.

I’m still dizzy as someone lifts me into their arms. I’m about to blast them with a fireball until I see his face. It’s Daddy—with a gash in his cheek. It’s so deep, it looks like part of his face is falling off. Red streaks pour from his wound, all the way down to his chest.

“Outside! Now!” Daddy points at the coffee table. It flies up and crashes through the big living room window, landing in the front yard. Glass falls everywhere.

My back hits the couch. I scream and grip the cushions as Daddy waves his hand, and I’m flown out the window on the couch.

It crashes next to the coffee table, bounces once, then tips over, dumping me onto the muddy ground. Water pelts my eyes. I can’t see. I can’t?—

BOOM!

My house explodes into a giant mushroom of fire. It throws me backward. Heat pricks my skin as I fall to the ground. Pain bursts into the side of my head. A high-pitched ringing sound pierces my ears. I can’t hear anything else.

I wipe the water from my face. It feels weird. I glance at my hands. They’re red. Why is the water red?

I have to get up. I have to help my mama and daddy.

I try to push off the grass, but my arms don’t work. I collapse into the mud, and then darkness takes over.

7

ARELLA

I’m totally goingto kill Javina. While I’m at it, I’m going to kill Rachel too. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be sitting at a bar by myself.

Once Javina told me that she wasn’t coming—last minute, I might add—I figured I could stay for a few songs, then leave. Screw Trey and his show-stopping smile and those puppy dog eyes.

“It’d mean a lot to me if you stayed.”How is a woman supposed to say no to that?

I munch on a cheesy chip off my plate of nachos as Trey effortlessly performs a guitar solo on stage, his second of the evening. There’s no denying that he’s talented. His fingers slide up and down the guitar as if it’s a part of him. I can’t imagine how many long hours it took him to learn how to play that fast and make it sound good.

While everyone in the band has singing parts, Trey seems to have the most. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s disappointed about it, either. When he’s not singing or playing the guitar, he’s behind the drum set, banging some drumsticks all over it. When he’s not doing that, he’s behind the piano, delivering a perfect tune. If the crowd isn’t impressed by how many instruments hecan play, it’s probably because they’re too busy gawking at his arm muscles straining the sleeves of his leather jacket.

Midway through the show, the rest of the band disappears behind the curtain and Trey performs by himself from the piano. He sings with his eyes closed and his lips practically making out with the microphone. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the women here wished they were that microphone right now.

After he finishes the song, he thanks everyone, and the lights go dark. A second later, the spotlight returns as Liz, Kevin, and the other female band member take the stage. The women perform a perfectly harmonized song with Kevin on the guitar. I’m just as mesmerized by their voices as I was by Trey’s.

From behind a ketchup bottle, I find one of those table signs displaying the band’s picture. All five of them look like models, with their flawless faces and matching outfits. Trey’s in the middle, wearing the same thing he wore yesterday and is wearing today: a black leather jacket over a plain black V-neck that hugs his torso. In the picture, he’s got the same styled hair and stubbly beard. The only difference is that he looks slightly younger in the picture, but not by much.

“That picture is over a year old,” someone says from behind me. “We’re getting them updated soon.”

I twist on my barstool to find the dazzling man I was just admiring. When our eyes lock, my heart kicks up a notch. My body reacted like this around him yesterday, too. It’s not like me to get this excited around men. Usually, I’m trying to escape as fast as my legs will carry me. Right now, that urge is absent. If anything, I’m a little drawn to him, and I can’t figure out why. It’s not like Trey’s the only attractive man in this city. A cute guy made conversation with me at a gas station this morning, and not once did he make my stomach flutter the way Trey is.

I pretend like his presence doesn’t affect me as I tilt my head toward the stage. “Aren’t you supposed to be over there?”

“Nah. It’s solo time. Everyone gets to show off their individual talents for a while and give the others a break.”

I do my best not to stare at his can’t-help-but-gawk-at-them features. “It’s fun to watch your band perform. I didn’t know you played so many things. Which instrument did you learn first?”

“Guitar. I first picked one up when I was—” Trey catches that my attention has slipped to the two ladies with eager smiles standing behind him. He flips around.

The one with teal blue tips in her blonde hair perks up. “Hi, Trey. Can we get a picture with you?”

“Oh, sure.” He drapes an arm around the blonde’s shoulder and flashes his pearly whites. Her friend snaps a few photos, and then they alternate.

“We’ve both been huge fans ever since your first YouTube video went viral,” Blue Tips says. She goes on and on about how much she loves his music and, more so, how much she loveshim. Her friend adds to the conversation by asking him question after question. They sound as fangirly as Javina did yesterday, except I’m bothered by them and not by Javina.

They steal Trey away from me for so long, it’s Kevin who’s got the stage to himself now.

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