BREE LEANED AGAINST A PILLAR NEAR THE BACK OF THE PIT and wrapped her arms tightly around her body. It was less her usual “don’t mess with me” stance and more “I need to give myself a hug.”
You’re both dead, Coach Creed had screamed. And he’d meant it, of that Bree was sure. She’d never looked into the eyes of a killer, but the wild hatred she’d seen in Coach Creed was exactly what she’d imagined she’d see. It wasn’t much of a leap to think that he’d turned his blind rage on Ronny as well. Now they just had to find proof before he followed through on his threats and went after John.
Another image replaced Coach Creed in her mind. John, lips parted, leaning down to kiss her. Just the memory of it caused an involuntary reaction: her pulse quickened, her stomach fluttered, her breath caught in her chest.
John had been right: everything was about to change.
Bree’s eyes wandered aimlessly around the sellout crowd, tightly packed into the small club, all there to see John’s band. Maybe that was affecting her judgment? Her gaze lingered on a couple frantically making out in the corner. Maybe the rock-star vibe John was giving off had seduced her subconscious to the point where her hormones raged out of control like those two idiots?
As she stared at the make-out session with a mix of envy and horror, she realized the two figures were familiar. Holy shit, Kitty and Donté.
If Olivia didn’t know that her ex-boyfriend was getting primal with their DGM leader, she would soon.
She glanced back toward the stage, searching for Olivia, and caught sight of her in the mosh pit, snaking her way through the crowd, practically on a collision course with the Kitty–Donté face-sucking display. It was only a matter of time before Olivia barreled into them.
Bree’s instinct was to intercept Olivia, but she stopped herself. Why did she care? So what if Kitty and Olivia fought over the same guy; wouldn’t it be more entertaining to watch her two friends go at it?
No. No, it wouldn’t be fun to watch the fallout. She didn’t want to see either of them get hurt.
Bree pushed herself off the pillar and shouldered her way through the crowd. “Olivia!” Bree cried out, but her voice was muted. Olivia never even paused. She was practically within sight of Kitty and Donté. Crap. This wasn’t going to end well.
Just when Bree thought a Kitty–Olivia confrontation was inevitable, someone stepped between them, blocking Olivia’s path.
Bree had never been so happy to see Ed the Head in her entire life.
“What is it?” Olivia asked. Her eyes shifted to either side of him, still in search of Donté. The concert was about to start. Where was he?
“I have some more information for you.” Ed the Head leaned forward and dropped his voice. “About that photo.”
Olivia arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Spill it.”
Ed the Head smiled wryly. “Perhaps we should discuss price first?”
Olivia threw up her hands, exasperated. “Ed, I’m not going out with you. Give it a rest.”
“Olivia, Olivia, Olivia,” Ed the Head sighed, shaking his head. “Not everyone at this school dreams of a date with you.”
“What do you want then?”
“I want”—he paused dramatically—“a favor. To be named at a later date.” He extended his hand.
A favor. Olivia had no idea what Ed the Head had in mind, but she’d deal with his request later. She accepted his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Done.”
Immediately, Ed the Head was all business. “Barbara Ann Vreeland was expelled from Bishop DuMaine after the grade-fixing scandal broke two years ago, based on an anonymous tip. She was failing algebra, again, and her coach struck a deal with the math teacher.”
Olivia pursed her lips. “I already knew that.”
“Aha!” Ed the Head made a dramatic flourish with his hands. “But did you know that Barbara Ann was the captain of the JV girls’ volleyball team?”
“Yes,” Olivia said slowly. “Because you told me.”
“Oh, right. Wait, let me try that again.” He bowed his head, like an actor preparing for a scene, then whipped his face up, totally in character. “Aha!” he repeated. “But did you know that after she was kicked off the team, our very own student body vice president took over as JV captain?”
“Kitty?”
“And,” Ed the Head added, “did you know that Kitty was also failing algebra?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “And did you know that Barbara Ann was expelled because she was recruiting teammates for grade fixing?”
Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “You think Barbara Ann told Kitty about the grade fixing, and Kitty turned her in?”
Ed the Head threw his hands up in faux innocence. “I’m just saying, it’s an odd coincidence that now Kitty is the captain of the state-champion girls’ varsity team with scholarship offers from every Ivy League school on the planet, while Barbara Ann brews lattes at the Coffee Clash.”
Olivia couldn’t believe it. Kitty had turned in her friend and teammate. Had she done it intentionally to gain the captain’s position? Olivia thought back to their study sessions for the religion assignment freshman year. She remembered how affected Kitty had been by the whole scandal. At the time, she’d assumed it was because several of Kitty’s friends had been put on academic probation or flat-out expelled, like Barbara Ann. But maybe her reaction had been more personal. Maybe it had been guilt.
“Worth the price tag?” Ed the Head asked.
“Yeah,” Olivia whispered. “Thanks.”
“Awesome. You’ll be hearing from me.” He backed away and flashed her two finger guns. “I am considerably out of here.”
A cry went up as the band took the stage. There was a rush forward in the mosh pit, and Bree lost sight of Olivia and Ed the Head. Oh well. At least Olivia had been derailed from her search.
Devil Dan was the first one out, followed by Shane and Grizzly, with John trailing behind. He kept his head down as he picked up his bass and gave a few quick strums before getting into position. Without a word, Devil Dan counted off with his drumsticks and they launched into “Bangin’ Love.”
John attacked the opening bass line and Bree held her breath. Within two bars, the crowd went absolutely apeshit.
The rest of the band joined the song and the club literally erupted in movement and sound. The screeching guitars and vicious cymbal hits were deafening, and even Bree, veteran concert goer that she was, fought the urge to plug her ears with her fingers. The mosh pit writhed like a living, breathing organism. In the front, girls and guys alike were reaching their hands out toward Shane, who straddled his guitar with a ferocity that had always turned Bree’s insides to Jell-O. Usually, Bree couldn’t keep her eyes off him at a Bangers and Mosh show. But tonight she could only see John.
When the chorus kicked in, John and Grizzly joined with harmony, and every single person in the audience, including Bree, sang along.
Don’t you know I want you?
Don’t you know you know you want me?
Don’t you know you want my
Bangin’ love?
Don’t you know you need my
Bangin’ love?
As the song crescendoed to the finale, John reprised his solo bass line, then jumped up and landed the final note of the song.
The crowd exploded.
“Thank you!” Shane said. He took a swig of water from his bottle as the noise died down. “Thank you guys for coming out tonight. We’re so thrilled to be back at the Ledge, the best fucking all-ages club in Northern California.”
The audience roared in appreciation.
“We’re doing a mix of old and new tonight,” Shane continued. “If you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a new member of Bangers and Mosh to introduce. On bass now is Bagsie, who just threw down the wickedest rendition of ‘Bangin’ Love’ I’ve ever heard. Seriously, how epic was that?”
Again the crowd roared, even louder than before. John held up his hand in thanks, but looked totally and completely embarrassed by the attention. Bree wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or slap him across the face and tell him to man up.
“Bagsie and I have been working on some new songs, some of which we’ll be debuting tonight. So . . . yeah. Fuck it. Let’s play.”
The band started their second song—another classic Bangers and Mosh tune—but before Bree could enjoy it, she noticed a face coming toward her in the crowd. She was easy to spot: while everyone else was watching the band onstage, Olivia was aiming for the back of the club again.
One second Olivia was searching in an unfocused way, the next, her eyes were locked on to something in the corner. Bree was close enough to see the color drain out of Olivia’s face as her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell slack.
Shit.
Then, by some weird psychic connection, Kitty broke away from Donté’s tonsillectomy and looked toward the stage. She saw Olivia right away, and Bree watched the same look of horror overcome her.
“Olivia!” Kitty mouthed, her voice lost in the music. She broke away from Donté and ran toward her.
But Olivia didn’t wait. She swung around and disappeared into the crowd.
