It’s been a month since I started Redwood Prep and I still get lost in the hallways.
I’d trade the rich wooden decor, pretentious chandeliers and stained glass windows at Redwood Prep for my old high school’s peeling paint, dodgy bathrooms, and easy-to-maneuver corridors any day.
Loud laughter fills my ears. It’s coming from the cheerleaders in the hallway.
They’re all tan-skinned with perfect makeup, white smiles and lean, athletic bodies. They fit so perfectly into this world it almost takes my breath away.
I can’t help staring at them. What would it be like if my only worry was whether my French-tipped nails had dried and if Jacey could stick the landing after the triple touch?
It’s a mean thought.
No one knows what those girls are going through at home, even if their lives look wonderful on the outside.
Still, no matter their own personal battles, at least they can sooth the pain with expensive cars, wild parties, and bling.
I keep my head down when I pass them, doing my best not to get noticed by the ‘Wrecking Ball’ blonde and her minions. They barely flick their gazes over me before dismissing me as unimportant.
I breathe out in relief. So far I’ve managed to fly under the radar, just as I promised Breeze I would. I don’t speak up in class. I haven’t joined any extra curriculars. And I sure as hell don’t talk to anyone.
At first, people were curious about me being new and all. But, with my carefully laid plan, I’ve been awarded the ‘loser’ label and left to my own devices.
I was sure the rest of senior year would be smooth sailing.
Then The Kings appeared.
My hopes for a trouble-free semester crashed and burned when the three gods of Redwood Prep sauntered into Algebra yesterday.
They weren’t wearing crowns and robes, but they might as well have been royalty the way everyone responded to them. It felt like the entire class would stop breathing if they gave the order.
I told myself not to freak out. I figured they wouldn’t pay any attention to the insignificant new kid at the back.
Then a pair of molten hazel eyes knifed me in the gut.
And my world shattered.
There was a hardness to Dutch’s look, a hatred that didn’t feel earned. I was sure that intimidating gaze had been meant for someone else.
But later on in class, I noticed Dutch talking to his brothers. Zane and Finn had their heads leaning in toward him. All of a sudden, they turned as one. They were watching me. Staring me down.
Whatever they were talking about clearly involved me.
I tried to duck behind my textbook, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they recognized me.
Since yesterday, my stomach has been in knots.
The Kings know who I am.
What does that mean for me now that I’m on their radar? And why did Dutch seem so aggravated by the sight of me? Are they upset because I lied about who I really am at the showcase? But why? Why would they care about someone like me?
I dig my sweaty fingers into my uniform skirt, breathing harshly in an effort to calm down.
‘They’re coming.’
‘It’s them.’
I feel a stir in the air and excited whispers erupt from the students around me. When I glance up, I see a trio of boys at the end of the hallway.
Dutch is at the front, strolling with a look of quiet intensity on his face. His blonde hair is disheveled and it only adds to his devil-may-care appeal. I curl my fingers tighter, resisting the strange and sudden desire to run my fingers through the wheat-colored locks.
He’s wearing a uniform today, conforming to the status quo in name only because the way the sweater vest and white shirt stretches over his broad muscles is downright sinful and definitely against the dress code.
The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to reveal his leather bracelet and the beginning of tattoos peeking up from his wrist. His khakis go on forever, covering legs that are ridiculously long.
I bite down on my bottom lip as the riff I heard The Kings playing the night of the showcase swells in my head.
C# G# A
It’s high-pitched, shrieking, and complicated.
Zane slings an arm around Finn’s shoulders. They say something to Dutch.
He smiles and my heart stops beating.
With his overpoweringly beautiful features and haughty expressions, I thought Dutch had reached the pinnacle of male perfection. But seeing his perfect white teeth flashing in the sunlight, I know that he’s not just beautiful. He’s outright dangerous. A heartbreaker in motion. A destroyer of souls. And I should be nowhere near them.
They’re getting closer now and if they look up at any minute, they’re going to see me. I stumble backward and duck into the bathroom.
I peer through the window pane to check that my escape went unnoticed. The boys don’t break their stride even when the cheerleaders follow them eagerly.
From the safety of the bathroom, I watch their profiles. The Cross brothers. The Kings. Fitting. Like royalty, they could have anyone in the land if they wanted to and it’s clear that they don’t give a damn about the privilege.
“Thank God, they’re gone,” I whisper, wilting against the door.
“Smart girl.” A voice echoes in the bathroom.
I whirl around.
A girl around my age wearing dark eyeliner and a black jacket over her preppy school uniform flicks a lighter and stares at the flame.
“Excuse me?” My voice trembles.
She tilts her head, still eyeing the fire. “Just because something’s beautiful doesn’t mean it can’t burn your world down.”
I blink unsteadily. “Uh…”
“Oh, by the way. One of your buttons popped.” She points to my shirt.
I glance down and realize she’s right. With a gasp, I curl inward and clutch the fabric. “Thanks. I-I didn’t notice.”
A corner of her lips hitches up. Without another word, she strides past me and leaves the bathroom.
I shift my glance away from the strange girl and point it at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is long, almost to my butt. I haven’t had a chance to cut it. My eyes are brown and my face is a little too round to be eye-catching.
My ordinary looks is directly responsible for my ability to blend in at Redwood. But that might change if people figure out I’m wearing worn, hand-me-down uniforms.
I fumble with the gap in my shirt. How embarrassing. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do. The ill-fitting outfit was all the office had in my size.
Since I had to borrow money from Breeze just to get my electricity back on, ordering brand new Redwood prep threads is not possible for me.
Thinking quickly, I take out a safety pin from the dusty corners of my school bag and close up the gap. That’ll have to work for now until I can locate a button along with a needle and thread.
My heart thuds when I push the door open. Glancing both ways to make sure The Kings are gone, I hurry to my next class.
Thankfully, I’ve got music next. I push the door and spot a middle-aged man in a sweater vest, flipping through the pages of a sheet book.
When I clear my throat, Mr. Mulliez looks up and smiles.
“Cadence.” He nods, his thick hair flopping forward. “What are you doing here?”
I stare at the empty chairs. “Where is everyone?”
“It’s Unconventional Theory day. Your assignment is to go out and make music using things around the school that we don’t consider instruments.” His glasses slides down his nose and he raises his chin to wiggle it in place again.
I laugh and scratch a fingernail against my bag. “Your idea?”
“My idea.” He bobs his head, eyes sparkling.
“Why am I not surprised? Only you would think of something that out of the box.”
Mr. Mulliez crosses his arms over his plaid blazer. It’s a hundred degrees outside, but he doesn’t seem to be breaking a sweat at all. “Being inside the box is boring. You should know,” he leans forward, “Miss Sonata Jones.”
A flush spreads up the back of my neck.
“Besides,” he flails his hands, “it’s this brilliant mind that got you into Redwood Prep. Let’s not forget.”
He’s right. I owe him for being my advocate and working out my scholarship here.
Coming to Redwood Prep came with a bunch of strict rules about my conduct and grades, but it also included a generous work stipend. I used it to pay most of Viola’s school fees.
“I didn’t know we weren’t having class,” I tell him, taking a step back. “When’s the Unconventional Theory assignment due?”
“You should have gotten a notification about it.” He nods to my phone. “Don’t you have the school’s app installed?”
I lift the screen and navigate to the fancy Redwood Prep app. “My phone is really old. I haven’t been getting a lot of notifications lately.”
He nods and studies me, rubbing his whiskered chin. “There’s something I wanted to speak to you about.”
This can’t be good.
I stiffen. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no. Nothing wrong per se.” He waves a hand. “As you requested, I changed your name at the showcase and allowed you to perform as someone else. You said it was the only way to work around your stage fright.”
I dip my chin, an uneasy feeling coiling in my stomach.
Mr. Mulliez taps his desk. “We agreed that we’d work on that fear of yours. Yet I haven’t seen you volunteer to play in class or engage in any musical activities—whether as yourself or as an alter ego.”
“I’ve been busy,” I stammer.
“You’ve been running.” He straightens and walks over to me. “Cadence, ever since the night I heard you play for the first time, I knew your approach to music was… different. You see patterns in places where no one else would look to find them. You weave stories into every note. It’s something special. Something extraordinary. That’s why I went right up to you and offered you a chance to study at Redwood Prep. It wasn’t so you could blend in. It was so you could shake things up.”
I remember that night with clarity. When Mr. Mulliez first approached my piano, I thought he was going to proposition me as so many of the sleazy customers at the upscale lounge did.
Instead, he changed my life. It was the first good thing to happen to me since mom left Vi and I alone.
I never thought I’d have a chance to enroll in a school like Redwood Prep. Much less minor in a music program supported by none other than music legend Jarod Cross.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Mulliez. I really am.” I stare at the floor. “But I don’t want to shake things up. All I want is to graduate, put Redwood Prep on my resume and get a better-paying job. I want my sister to have a roof over her head and food in her stomach. I want to have a normal life with normal problems.”
His eyes widen and he gives me a sympathetic look.
I pretend not to notice. “I don’t want to change Redwood. I don’t want to be in the spotlight. I don’t want any of it.”
He sighs heavily. “I understand, Cadence.” His lips arch up, but it seems like it’s a struggle to smile. “I’ve kept you long enough.” He juts his chin at the door. “Start working on your assignment.”
“I will.” I take a few steps to the door. Then I stop and swerve back. “Mr. Mulliez, it might not seem like it, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t mention it. I, as the kids say, got your back.” He thumps his chest twice and then gives me a peace sign.
I snort. “Don’t ever do that again.”
He laughs and shoos me out.
I push the door open and my smile wobbles. Guilt twists in my chest like a knife. Mr. Mulliez plucked me out of my hopeless existence and gave me a fresh start. I hate that I can’t fulfil his expectations for me, but it would cost too much to get over my stage fright and flaunt myself in front of Redwood.
I can’t do that.
What I can do is turn in the best Unconventional Music Theory assignment Redwood has ever seen. Just to make it clear why my scholarship was worth it.
I head outside and tilt my face up to the sun for inspiration. Redwood Prep’s gardens are something out of a fantasy. The lawn goes on for miles with plenty of trees and cute picnic benches nestled under the shade.
I take a step forward when I feel a presence behind me. A voice like raw silk whispers, “New Girl.”
I jump out of my skin when I look over my shoulder and see Dutch, Zane and Finn surrounding me. My tongue turns heavy and I instantly back away.
“Want to work on Mulliez’s assignment together?” Finn offers.
My jaw drops to the grass. “What?”
“Most of the kids already chose their groups,” Zane says easily. His voice is a lot huskier than his twin’s. Up close, I can see even more differences between him and Dutch.
Where Dutch looks like he’d bludgeon someone to death if they made him mad enough, Zane looks like he’d smile even when he shoved the knife in his victim’s chest.
Dutch is brooding and dark and sullen, while Zane emits ‘life of the party’ vibes. He doesn’t just know how to have a good time. He is the good time. Unlike his twin who’d suck the life out of any room he enters.
Finn is harder to get a read on. He’s not dragging around a dark cloud of doom the way Dutch is, but he’s not as wild and loud as his brother.
There’s something cold and calculating about the way Finn watches me. A heady mixture of restraint and ruthlessness runs right under the surface, as if he could be worse than his brothers if he wanted to, but he chooses not to take that path.
Zane lifts a hand and rakes it through his perfect, shampoo-commercial-ready hair. The rings on his fingers glint in the sunlight. “We need a fourth member.”
“In your band?” I gawk.
Dutch glowers. “Why the hell would we ask you to join our band?”
I narrow my eyes at him. He didn’t have to sound so damn offended.
He glares right back. Trade his fancy uniform for spurs and a gun and Dutch would fit right in as a Western gunslinger. Or maybe even a gladiator.
His presence is intense, almost overwhelming. He’s around the same size as his brothers, but his energy makes him seem bigger. Like a bull about to impale an innocent bystander.
Dutch’s gaze drops, imperceptibly, to my lips and he stares at it as if he wants to know every inch of it well enough to trace it in his dreams.
It’s a thousand degrees outside, but my arms erupt with goosebumps.
We’re still staring at each other.
I refuse to break his gaze to prove a point.
He doesn’t look away either.
Zane chuckles. “You two done eye-sparring yet? New Girl, we haven’t gotten an answer.”
I glance away from Dutch to focus on the other two members of The Kings. I don’t understand why they would need an extra member for this assignment.
First of all, Mulliez made it sound like it was solo work. Second, there’s three of them. And they’ve made it pretty clear they don’t need anyone else.
My thoughts start to whirl. Why are they singling me out? Do they recognize me from the showcase? Is this a trap?
The more rational side of my brain comes out to play. Maybe I’m overthinking this. They were missing for the first month of school, so it makes sense that they’d be behind in group work. And I have no idea how things work at Redwood Prep. It’s totally plausible that they need an extra for the assignment.
What isn’t plausible is them wanting to work with me.
“I don’t know.”
The smile cracks on Zane’s face. I’m guessing these boys aren’t used to girls who’d deny them anything.
The brothers all exchange a loaded look. There’s some kind of sibling mind-communication happening and it’s weird as hell.
“Well,” I shift in the uncomfortable silence, “thanks for the offer, but I’ll—”
Zane pushes Dutch forward and he stumbles into me. He smells like wood shavings and sunshine. The feel of his skin on mine causes a full-body shiver.
“Come on, Cadence.” Dutch’s deep voice casts a spell on me. The timbre is unique. Smooth yet rough around the edges. Like an uncut gem hidden in a dark cave.
What little resistance I had left dies immediately when Dutch steps closer to me. His body is hard, lean and sculpted beneath his uniform.
My traitorous heart cartwheels into my ribs. I curl my hands into fists before I do something stupid—like run my hands down his chest to feel every nick of his abs.
His chiseled chin has a bit of stubble on it and it only adds to his rugged good looks when he ducks his head and peers at me through hooded eyes. “Just say yes. You know you want to.”
There’s something darkly magnetic about him, although he’s the least friendly-looking out of the bunch.
And suddenly, I do want to say yes.
I really, really want to say yes.
It’s just an assignment, Cadence.
I’d planned to turn in the best work I could for Mulliez. What better way to do that than to work with an actual band who’s been on an actual tour?
My lips curl into a small, hesitant smile. “Okay.”
“Let’s work in the practice room,” Finn says. His voice is quieter and smoother than his brothers, but it’s the deepest one. Like there’s an ocean, no—an entire universe in his chest.
I take a deep breath and make sure my voice doesn’t tremble when I say, “Sure. Let’s do that.”
Zane smiles at me. His grin is panty-melting and I’m not surprised that, of all three gorgeous rockstars, he has the playboy reputation.
Zane drops an arm around my shoulder. “Tell me, New Girl, do you have an actual name?”
A flash of something dark passes through Dutch’s eyes, but it’s gone in a blink.
“Cadence.” I side-step Zane so I’m out of his grasp. “Cadence Cooper.”
“Cadence? Like the cadence of a song?” Finn asks.
“Yeah. My dad was a musician. Mom let him pick our names. He called me Cadence and my sister, Viola.” My eyes zip to Dutch. He’s not saying anything, but his jaw is clenching and unclenching.
A foreboding feeling descends on me, but I brush it away. I haven’t done anything to these guys. Or to anyone. I’ve been invisible at this school for a whole month, not getting into anyone’s way or minding anyone’s business but my own. They have no reason to seek me out and hurt me.
“Sounds like music’s in the family?” Finn says.
“Uh… yeah. I guess you could say it’s in my blood.”
“Your mom a musician too?” Finn asks.
“No, not exactly.” Dad gave me all the good traits. Mom handed down her vices like a hereditary disease.
We’re in the hallway now and though it’s crowded with students, it feels like someone pressed ‘pause’ on a movie. No one is moving or blinking. They’re all staring at me and The Kings as if we’re wild hallucinations.
Heat blasts through my chest and I fight to appear unaffected. I saw how the classroom reacted to Dutch and his brothers yesterday. And I saw it again in the hallway earlier.
They’re not flustered by the attention, so I should pretend that I’m not either. Even if this is the most awkward moment of my life.
“Were you at the showcase?” Zane asks, taking me down another hallway.
I tense immediately. “Me? Showcase? No. No I wasn’t.”
“Weird that Mulliez wouldn’t stick someone like you in the show,” Dutch murmurs.
I give him a heated a look. It’s not that I’m ashamed of being a scholarship kid, but the way he said ‘someone like you’, as if I’m less-than because of where I come from, sends the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
“Where exactly are we going?” I murmur. We’re moving far away from any of the practice rooms in Redwood Prep.
“We’re here.” Finn lifts a card and slaps it against a scanner. I jump back when a neon light runs up and down the plastic. It beeps and a door clicks open.
I dig my heels in. “Where’s here?”
“Our practice room,” Zane says, giving me a cocky smile.
Finn steps in first.
Zane follows.
Dutch sticks out a hand. “After you.”
Tension fills me, vibrating through my body like a broken chord.
“Scared?” Dutch taunts close to my ear.
I stiffen and throw him a fierce look. “Not even close.” Then I push the door further and step into the lion’s den.
Jinx: This one is for free, New Girl. A king will never marry his concubine. Don’t walk through any doors believing it’s your happily ever after. The only path in front of you is the one that leads to destruction.
