I make good on my promise and climb into the backseat of Alix's car with a few minutes to spare.
"Just in time," Zee says with a glance at Alix. "I was on the verge of murdering him."
Alix is slapping his hands against the steering wheel in a steady beat, "car drumming" as he calls it. He says it's to get drumming practice in while he's driving; I suspect he just does it just to annoy Zee.
He doesn't turn around, but I see him wink at me in the rearview mirror before curling his lips into a wolfish grin.
"Hey Ashling," he says as he puts the car into reverse. "Welcome back to the land of the living".
Alix is one of the most wanted guys in the senior class, and he knows it. With a tall, tan, muscular physique, chiseled features and dark wavy hair courtesy of his Greek ancestry, he's built up a reputation as the Adonis of Huntson High.
At least six girls in our sophomore class have a crush on him. Zee and I know this all too well – as Alix's younger sister, Zee's been approached more than once by girls who want her to put in a good word for them.
I don't like him in that way, but sometimes the old me surfaces for just a moment. I feel embarrassed that he's seeing me like this. I look rough. The girl I used to be in middle school would never go out in public looking like I do now. I'm dressed down in skinny jeans, ancient converse sneakers and an oversized red hoodie over a camisole.
My hair is piled on top of my head in a damp blonde messy bun, still wet from the shower. There are dark circles under my eyes.
When did I stop caring?
We reach a stop sign and Alix starts flipping through radio stations.
"By the way Ashling, still up for band practice tomorrow?" He says as his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. "Our parents are out from six. Which means..."
"You're going to make double the racket you usually do," Zee finishes off. "Kill me now!"
"Yeah, six is fine," I say.
I started playing together with Alix and his best friend Micah as a band last summer – ever since Zee told Alix that I sing and play guitar. I think she regrets that now.
The band's one of the few things I really care about any more, and recently I'm starting to have doubts about even that. It's been taking up more of my time recently, and I've slipped into the routine of spending at least one afternoon a week in Alix and Zee's dad's garage, aka our practice space.
When I'm singing, it's like I'm not myself. It's the only time I can drown out the worries, the awareness of other people, the fear... and just be. The band’s become like a lifeline for me.
That's why I have to leave.
Alix is still flipping through radio stations when we hear a familiar voice announce "...up next we'll be talking with the boys of mega hit progressive rock band Fable, ahead of tonight's performance at the Rose Quarter. Stay tuned to 94.8 Best of Portland FM for more."
Zee makes a sound I've never heard before, something between a gasp and an inward scream.
"Ohmygod ohmygod OHMYGOD," Zee shrieks.
Alix's hand is already heading to the dial to change the station, and Zee smacks it away just in time.
"It's my car," he says, reaching again for the dial "and I'll change the station if I want to."
"Don't you dare, kyrios kalamatianos," she tells Alix, sounding all the more scary for her upbeat tone. I don't know what the name means, but it works on him every time.
He sighs but doesn't try to change the station again.
"Maybe there'll be some clue about where they're staying," she says seriously as she turns to face me. "I don't know if I can wait until tonight."
Tonight. The event everyone's been waiting for forever, and I'm the only one of my friends missing out.
"Wow, this whole day is going to be torture," I say.
I instantly regret saying it – the smile slips from Zee's face.
"I'm really sorry Ashling. I keep forgetting,” she says. “You want me to turn it off?"
"Of course not!" I reply. "I want you guys to have fun tonight. Send me some pics and I'll be fine."
I already know she'll probably forget to send me anything. She'll be too busy enjoying every moment of it. Singing, dancing, trying to catch a glimpse of one of the boys.
It's kind of ironic that she's going tonight and I'm not. When we first became friends two years ago, just after I moved from Southwood Lakes to Huntson High, she had no clue who Fable even were.
Back then they were still taking off. They were just some unknown group of boarding school boys in Wales uploading their songs to YouTube from the one guy's dorm room.
Now the whole world's in love with them, and being one of their first fans from before they were famous hasn't helped me at all. Zee's going tonight, and I'm not.
What makes it even worse is that it's the first (and possibly last) time Fable are performing in Portland, and it almost didn't happen – we were added on right at the end of their world tour.
There was anarchy at school when the news broke. One tweet was all it took. Singing in the hallways. Girls crying out of happiness. Beth Donklin, Fable's self-appointed No.1 fan, actually fainted in gym from all the excitement and had to go home early. It was crazy.
Since then the buzz in the corridors has been building, sort of like the build up to Summer Break, but better. Way better. All for this one magical night.
Magical for everyone except me, that is.
I know it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I want to go so badly that it hurts. Not just for myself, but to keep a promise I made. The one thing I'm still holding on to and sticking around for. Unfinished business, if you will.
But I just can't do it.
I already have a pretty good idea of what'll happen if I go, and there's no way I could do that to my friends. Despite my best efforts, I’ve grown to care about them.
And that can only be a bad thing for me.
"AND WE'RE BACK," the radio announces. "If you've just joined us, after the ad break we'll be talking to the boys of Fable. Don't go anywhere!""No freaking way!" Zee says. "They just had an ad break!"Alix lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Well obviously Zee. The station's squeezing in as many ads as possible around the interview so they can sell more stuff."The car jolts forward as it screeches to a stop at the traffic lights. "It goes along with being commercial fake rock sellouts. I mean, they're basically a glorified boy band with instruments."He's done it now. Zee turns her head very slowly to face him. I don't want her to start shouting or something and cause a car accident, so I put my hand on her shoulder.Zee's pretty easygoing most of the time, but when it comes to Alix she's like a banshee."Just because the only thing you'll listen to is obscure bands with impossible to pronounce names, doesn't mean you get to trash what I like," she says so
BY THE TIME WE reach our lockers it's just five minutes until first bell. I hear Jamie's voice before I see her – she sounds like she's super upset about something.Jamie's what some people might call a drama queen – literally, because she's the unofficial star of Huntson High's drama club, and figuratively because she's totally OTT and melodramatic.As we near her I see she's wearing a sequined silver cardi over a dress with a photo of the Fable boys printed on it. She mentioned that she did a bit of online shopping just for the concert, and I guess this is it.Her long brunette hair is swept up in a messy bun to show off the shower of oversized golden stars dangling from her ears.It must have taken her hours to get ready this morning.Jamie never does things half-heartedly. Last year when she was getting into character for her role as Dorothy in the school production of The Wizard of Oz, she wore her hair in braids every day for weeks.An
"HEY GHOST." A FAMILIAR voice pipes up just behind me.I steel myself for a moment. I'm so tempted to ignore her, to just close my locker and walk away.I turn around already knowing who I'll see. Beth, Bailey and Becca – or the Three Bs, as they're known at Huntson High. Beth is the Queen Bee, and Bailey and Becca are sort of like the worker bees. They do everything for her; they even carry her bag and her phone.Jamie says the reason people call them the Three Bs isn't because their names all start with B, but actually because they’re all "Blonde Brainless Bitches". She's wrong though – Bailey gets good grades and she’s sort of nice, and Beth and Becca aren't really blonde.They only started dying their hair blonde last year after they became obsessed with Fable and Alastaire said in a TV interview that he only dates blondes. Alastaire's elite fans, or “Alastaire’s Angels” as the media calls them, are like a
THE REST OF THE MORNING goes by excruciatingly slowly. My first three periods are the worst. Chem, math and physics. The deadly trio.The fact that I'm still feeling down about the concert doesn't help matters.My next class is art, which I actually like. Plus it's one of the few classes I have with Jamie, Grace and Zee.We usually meet up at our lockers before walking out to the arts building together, so I'm not surprised when I hear Jamie's voice as I'm about to turn the corner by our lockers. She sounds upset.I stop dead in my tracks when I hear her say my name.I'm not totally sure what it is that makes me press my back against the wall and stand listening, concealed around the corner where they can't see me. I'm only a few feet from them, and they could leave the lockers and turn the corner at any time, and this would be very weird to try and explain to them.I don't usually randomly eavesdrop on my friends. But there's something in Jamie's voice
AFTER SCHOOL I WALK to The Night Owl. Most Fridays the girls come with me. Everything's on the house for us – the Night Owl, along with the restaurant upstairs, is owned and managed by my parents.Ever since they met and fell in love at chef school in Seattle (pretty romantic I guess), they dreamed about starting a business together.The only complication was that my dad wanted a haute cuisine restaurant and my mom wanted a cozy little coffeehouse.So when my gran offered to put money down on a building, they decided on a compromise. Fine dining restaurant upstairs, coffeehouse downstairs.When they first moved in eleven years ago, the building had been abandoned for ages. I was only five years old, so I don't remember much – but whenever I look at it now I can still see the blanket of moss and ivy growing all over the facade so thickly you could barely see the walls.Today a small group of tourists in flannels and hiking gear are standing outsid
UPSTAIRS IT'S CHAOS AS usual. Biblio only officially opens at six for dinner, but the preparations start in the early afternoon. There's inventory to take, plates to wash, stock to prepare, gelato to freeze.Every time I walk into Biblio's entrance I love to imagine the first impression diners get of it.It's massive – a double vaulted ceiling with chandeliers illuminating tapestries and old paintings. Oak bookshelves crowded with books bought in second hand stores line most of the walls.The cleaner is changing the roses and candles on each table, while a waiter stacks menus on the bookshelf at the entrance. The menus are inside old book covers to keep with the library theme.I consider going into the kitchen to say hi to mom and dad, but I know they have their hands full.So I spend the rest of the afternoon in the back room working on my school assignments.Even though I have a couple of solid hours uninterrupted, I still only manage to finish
ON THE WAY OUT I stop to say goodbye to Jade.Jade looks up from the latte he's making."What are your plans for the rest of the night?" He asks."Home. YouTube. Dinner," I answer. What I don't mention is that by YouTube I mean I'll be lounging around in my pjs crying over Fable music videos. And by dinner I mean pistachio ice cream. Probably a whole tub.With mom and dad working in the kitchens until late every Friday, I basically have free reign. "Sounds fun. That reminds me though..." he leans across the counter, tucking a loose strand of sandy blonde hair behind his ear. "Why didn't you go with your friends to the concert? I thought you loved Fable. Like, a die-hard super fan."There's no sarcasm in his voice.One of the things I admire most about Jade is how he's so accepting, and he actually makes an effort to see from other people's point of view. I doubt he listens to Fable – he told me once that he mostly listens to old retro stuff
FOR A GOOD TEN seconds, all I can do is stare. This can't be happening.Finally I feel my lips move. "Felix... Lockhart?""In the flesh," he says.I take in the familiar features, looking for some difference which would prove he's just some lookalike having a laugh.I take in the beautiful, perfect face, vampire-pale skin, high cheekbones framed by dark hair. It's his eyes however that banish any doubts – they're recognizable anywhere.Intense hazel green with a ring of brown around the pupil, with a few gold flecks near the rim. Cold and cat-like, predatory even – but somehow too beautiful to be real. I've always wondered if they're actually contacts, but up close I can see his eyes are perfectly clear.No contacts. No Photoshop."They're real," I murmur. "Wow"."What's real?" He asks.I just stare.Felix Lockhart is here, standing right in front of me. The real deal, totally legit. Living, breathing, not just in the mag