Page 2 of Wild and Bright

Even though I know my preoccupation with her is unhealthy, when I’ve done everything I can to squash it, I can’t overcome this itching desire to keep them as far from each other as possible. I can’t stand their closeness.

I resume the melody, but there’s no hiding my slipup. Hunter noticed. Hell, even Janie probably noticed all the way across the room. “What does she want to talk about?” I ask, not lifting my gaze from the guitar.

“I think she’s going to ask for some kind of a job.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see that he’s scratching the back of his head. “I just got that feeling from her text. Like maybe she wants to do something with our social media.”

A cynical smile rises to my lips. Of course she would use her friendship with Hunter to get something out of it.

“Absolutely not,” I say.

When he sighs heavily, I know he’s going to argue with me. “She’s really good at what she does, Cam.”

“She does makeup tutorials.”

He shrugs. “She has more TikTok followers than we do.”

I grunt, shaking my head. “Who gives a shit about TikTok? Our fans aren’t twelve years old.”

“Yeah, but she’s really good at YouTube, too, and she doesn’t think the company we hired knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

“They do an adequate job, which is exactly what we pay them for. We don’t need social media to gain fans. Our music should be doing that.”

“I don’t know. Lauren says—”

“I don’t give a fuck what Lauren has to say about it.”

When the room goes quiet, I want to flinch. This visit home has me more wound up than I thought. It’s the first time we’ve been able to spend Christmas in Coronado in ages. For the last few years, we’ve always been right in the middle of a tour, and my parents have had to fly out to meet us.

I knew cancelling this tour would mean they’d want to see us more. Hell, since both Hunter and I will actually be living in our San Diego houses, my mom will probably try to instigate weekly family dinners and movie nights.

The prospect of it wouldn’t be so exhausting if it weren’t for the dark-haired girl who still lives across the street from my parents’ house.

I won’t be able to avoid seeing her now, not with how close she is to Hunter. She’ll probably pop in to my parents’ house as she pleases, like she used to in high school, letting herself in and helping herself to the food in their fridge. Her four-year-old daughter might even come with her.

The same daughter I once accused of being mine in a moment of complete insanity.

There’s a good chance I’ll be forced to confront our whole sordid history this Christmas, when all I want to do is get over this obsession and leave Lauren in the past where she belongs.

“I’m going to hear her out,” Hunter says.

I can see on his face that he thinks I’m being unreasonable. But that’s because she’s always been able to bulldoze him.

“Hear her out all you want. It’s not happening.”

TWO

Lauren

“Lauren,” my mom calls out from the kitchen. “I need you to start making the mini quiche. Aunt Carrie texted, and they’re passing through Encinitas.”

My eyelids flutter. I’ve been in my head all morning, practically counting the minutes until Hunter’s flight arrives. My frenzied brain has been so distracted it took me over twenty minutes to find the perfect angle with my tripod in order to capture the afternoon light. I don’t have the time or energy to waste making Christmas Eve appetizers no one will eat.

I shouldn’t let it bother me. My life will be changing after today. I’m getting myself a real, big-girl job, even if I have to sell my soul to the devil to get Hunter to agree. By Christmas next year, I won’t be here to make mini quiche, because Cadence and I will be across the country touring with River of Sight. I’ll finally be able to support her myself and start paying off my mountain of student-loan debt.

The fact that it will mean being close to Camden again is something I can’t let myself think about it. I’ll delay anxiety over that until after I have the job.

I turn around and glance at my twin brother. Just as I suspected, he’s still lounging on the couch with his phone in front of his face.

“I’m working,” I shout. “Have Logan do it.”

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