Page 26 of Elusion

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smoothly as it can with her refusing me every step of the way. But whether she admits it or not, I’m winning her over. One exhausting day at a time.

Felicia asks if I want to go with them to a party. Not wanting to push Callie too far, I say no. Our last experience at a public event isn’t one to relive anytime soon. Plus, Beta Void has band practice.

A starting time of eight means we congregate in the garage by nine. Musician stereotypes each and every one of us—self-absorbed and flakey. Fortunately, the chance to play in front of an adoring crowd keeps us reliable for gigs.

Benji throws a stick between Johnny and Gavin to break up their conversation, and we finally begin running through our set list. Only an hour and ten minutes late.

We’re working through the third song when Brooke walks in. On a Monday night, she’s sporting five-inch heels and an entire makeup counter. Even from across the room, her perfume overpowers Johnny’s cigarette.

He stops mid-song to greet her, but she beelines for me. She struts by, dragging a fingernail across my chest. A few hook-ups, and she thinks she owns me. Under that logic, she owns all of us.

“Need a tambourine player?” she asks. “Maybe the triangle?”

Already sick of her shit, I shake my head. “Band practice over. Everybody out.”

“Everyone but Brooke?” This time, her finger trails down and hooks in a belt loop on my jeans.

Jesus.

“Wasting your time, sweetheart,” Johnny says. “Our Jordan’s already spoken for.”

I step away from her and flip him off. I’m not spoken for; I’m just in the middle of something.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Brooke cocks her head to the side.

“Not you.” I unplug my guitar and throw the cord on the ground. “Benji, are we writing tonight or not?”

It’s slightly melodramatic, but everyone disperses. Benji and I stay in the garage while Johnny and Gavin escort Brooke into the house. I’d let Jess ogle me every day if it meant never dealing with Brooke again. Once a girl makes her rounds through all my friends, I tend to lose interest.

A bad mood from sleeping on a couch catches up with me—an extremely bad mood. On top of that, Johnny’s comment is grating on my nerves. He should be supporting me in my endeavor, not acting like an ass.

My brother texts.

Tomorrow. Coffee. Nonnegotiable. 2:30.

And now, it’s a fucking trifecta.

I growl out my frustration. Callie’s class lets out at two forty-five. Unless Dustin tags along to meet her—not at all an option—someone is attending the dance without a date. Unless I send an alternate dance partner…

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Benji swivels around on his stool. “We don’t do favors for each other.”

Right, tit for tat around our house. “Okay, can we make a deal? I need someone to pick up Callie from class tomorrow afternoon.”

He smirks. “I want your room for six months.”

“Fuck off. I’m not giving you my room.”

He shrugs and rotates back around. Without offering any alternatives, he shuts me down. No spin and grin andJust messing, man. Nothing.

I could push coffee with Dustin.Wait, what am I doing?Callie won’t care if I’m there. I’ve offered her a ride to and from each class every day, and she’s never once accepted. When tomorrow rolls around and she says no, then I’ll be an asshole for skipping coffee with my brother for the girl I’m wooing.

Wooing?

That’s it. I’m in over my head, and I need to stop. The whole thing has gone on for far too long.

Mission officially aborted.

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