“I just ruined everything. And now you’ve proved that I ruined everything for no reason.”
Serena regarded me. “My bet is he won’t give up that easily. But you need to park the freaking-out thing at the curb. If the dude wants to kiss you, I say kiss him back.” She put her hands on her hips. “Repeat after me: Jared kisses, I kiss back, I don’t run away.”
I did, solemnly, and we both laughed. I felt like a massive weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I rose and walked to where Cyrus was dozing on my books. I prodded him until he reluctantly rolled off the pile and hopped onto my bed, and retrieved my psych and lit textbooks.
“Thanks, Serena. I mean it. This really helped.”
She nodded. “Girl, he’s taken you out on two dates so far. You are now dating Jared Richards!”
“Assuming I didn’t blow it last night.”
Serena left, and I paused at the door. A part of me was still the little girl who desperately wanted to prove herself. That lonely child who believed I wasn’t pretty enough, not good enough, not cultured enough to make it “out there” in the real world. A foolish fear? Perhaps. But I couldn’t know that until I’d proven it otherwise.
I half jogged to my first class, ignoring the stares I got as I arrived, preoccupied with thinking about what might happen next. I couldn’t blame Jared if he thought I was nuts and wanted nothing to do with me. But then I still didn’t know what he’d seen in me to begin with.
When my cell vibrated in my back pocket halfway through my final class, I almost jumped out of my seat. I checked the screen, and my mouth dropped open at the blinking message. I read it a second time and grinned like a fool.
When class let out, I ran back to the room, the lack of sleep and the day’s worry forgotten. Kate showed up first, followed by Sarah and Serena, and I sat on my bed, petting Cyrus as they put their things away.
“So, what are you guys up to tonight?” I asked innocently.
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that Jared’s doing a surprise club appearance to try out some new material, and he invited us.”
“Really?” Kate exclaimed.
“Yup. But I’ll understand if you’re busy,” I said.
“He invited all of us?” Sarah asked.
I nodded. “All of us. He said it’s going to be at Lefty’s, in Bangor. He goes on at ten.” Cyrus purred loudly, and I smiled. “He asked for your names. He’ll put us on the guest list.”
“Nobody knows about it?” Kate asked.
“No. It’s a surprise. I guess he knows the guys in the house band or something.”
“Cool,” Sarah said. “Count me in.”
“Me too,” Serena said, and I smiled to myself. Prying her out of the dorm was no small feat.
“Me three,” Kate called out. “Now I need to figure out what to wear.”
“We have time. Although we also have to figure out how to get there,” I said.
“I can ask Robert. He’s got a car,” Kate said.
“I don’t know. Jared said not to tell anyone.”
“Cab fare would cost an arm and a leg,” Serena said. “Even with the four of us splitting it, that’s too rich for me.”
“I suppose if it was only Robert…” I acceded.
Robert picked us up at nine in a sleek Audi sedan, and we were parked a block from the club by 9:40. I spotted Jared’s Porsche across the street, and my stomach did a somersault at the thought of seeing him again. Robert left us at the door and paid a five-dollar cover to get into the bar, while a bouncer checked the guest list for my name plus three. When he found it, he grinned, revealing two missing teeth.
“No smoking inside,” he said, and stepped aside. We walked into a medium-size room with black walls and a bar on one side and a small stage on the other. A five-piece band was jamming through a Maroon 5 number, doing a passable job, for a half-full crowd of mostly twentysomethings in denim and work boots. Robert approached us from the bar with a bottle of beer in hand, and Kate took his arm possessively – a gesture that wasn’t lost on us. Sarah elbowed me and took my arm, mimicking Kate, and we both laughed.
At ten, the singer stepped to the side of the stage and announced a special surprise guest band, and emphasized that no phones or recording equipment would be allowed. Jared’s drummer, guitar player, and bass player mounted the stage from a door at the back, followed by his keyboard player. Everyone plugged in, and the keyboardist played a few bars on a battered Fender Rhodes electric piano, and then they launched into the first song. Jared burst through the door, wearing jeans and a tight T-shirt that highlighted his perfectly sculpted chest and arms, a wireless headset in place beneath unruly hair.
The crowd was stunned to see the hottest thing in music in a dive bar and rushed the stage. Oversized security men in black T-shirts with tree-trunk arms kept the more enthusiastic at a safe distance. Sarah, Kate, and Robert moved closer, but Serena and I hung back to avoid the crush of the crowd.
The first song was one of the hits off his album, and throughout the performance Jared was staring at me, as though performing for no one else. He commanded the small stage effortlessly, his grins brought waves of female cheers, and every shake of his hips or sidelong glance met with screams of adulation. When the last note died, the roar from the audience was deafening.
Serena nudged me as we applauded. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you yet.”
This time I couldn’t deny his attention, so I didn’t try.
The next six songs were new, and Jared introduced each with a few words before the band played. At