I would’ve been willing to make the same ultimate sacrifice as the brave men of the Fyre Festival, and I would’ve gotten down on my knees and blown Max Fucking Rider if it called for it.
Take one for the team, Ian.
I shifted in my shoes and nervously coughed.
Max put his sunglasses on and stood up. “I think that’s a wrap for today, boys.”
He started walking away, and I felt as if I’d been sucker punched.
“Wait, Mr. Rider—” I started.
“I hope you’re okay leaving the small-town life,” he cut in. “Because we’re going to be busy starting as soon as possible to make you the first Wreckage.”
And just like that, our dreams came true.
19
IAN
“Tell me again,” Hazel said through the phone as I sat in bed that night, reciting to her everything that had gone down with Max Fucking Rider that afternoon. The other guys were in the second hotel room, celebrating the successful meeting we’d held.
Max wanted us to come out in two weeks to be ready to work our asses off. Everything was moving so fast, and I hardly had a grip on what was coming our way.
It felt like an odd dream, and I was terrified I’d wake from it any second now.
I chuckled into the phone. “I’ve already told you three times.”
“I know, but I love hearing the excitement in your voice.”
I couldn’t wait to get back to Eres to kiss her. Whenever I wasn’t thinking about music, I was thinking about Hazel and those full, thick lips of hers. It had to mean something, the fact that when the good news came to us, she was the first person I wanted to share it with. She was the first person who came to mind. She was . . . my person.
“You are my best friend,” I whispered, chills racing through me as the words rolled off my tongue.
More chills hit me as she said it back. “You are my best friend.”
I didn’t say the next words that crossed my mind, because I knew it would’ve been too confusing and too much, but I loved her. I loved her so much, and I didn’t know if it was just a friendship kind of love or a romantic kind of love, but it didn’t matter to me whatsoever.
Because love, no matter what kind it was, was a good thing. She’d taught me that through making me explore my emotions . . . she’d tapped into the love that still lived in me, even though I’d thought it was all gone after my parents had abandoned me. Love was a good thing, and Hazel Stone was a good fucking thing for me. She was the best thing, and I loved her so much it scared me a little.
The last people I’d loved that much were my parents, and they’d walked away and never looked back. Love felt so good, but in the back of it was the fear that it could someday slip away. I wouldn’t tell her yet. I’d keep the love thing to myself and hold on to it as long as I could.
“Confession time,” she said, as I lay against my pillow with one hand resting against the back of my head. “I didn’t sleep that well without you next to me.”
“Confession time. I’ve been hugging my pillow each night thinking it’s you.”
“Confession time. I miss your smile.”
“Confession time. I miss your laugh.”
“Confession time . . .” She took a deep inhalation and released it slowly as each word fell from her lips. “I . . . miss . . . you.”
“I miss you more.”
“Not possible.”
“Always possible.”
“When you get back, can we kiss some more?” she asked.
I chuckled. “Hazel, when I get back, all we are going to do is kiss. In the pigpens. In the house. In the barn house. In the streets. I’m going to steal so many kisses from you to save up for while I’m gone in Los Angeles.”
She went quiet for a second. “You’re really moving to LA, huh? This is really happening.”
That was the first moment it hit me that we were really moving on to Los Angeles. That our lives were truly about to change forever. Shit.
“You realize how big this is, right, Ian? This is the biggest opportunity of your life, and it’s Max Fucking Rider,” she dramatically exclaimed, somehow sounding more excited than I did.
We stayed on the phone that night until Marcus and James came back to the room to crash. After they were asleep, I asked Hazel if I could call her back. She said of course, and I slept with the phone pressed against my ear. We were going to fall asleep with one another, even though we were miles apart.
When I heard her small snores, I let my eyes go heavy too.
20
HAZEL
While the guys were in Los Angeles getting the keys to their dreams, I was back in Eres trying my best to stomp out my nightmares. I’d been writing Mama letters nonstop, looking to get an idea of how she was doing. I assumed they took care of the pregnant inmates to some extent, but based on the knowledge I had on the subject—a.k.a. watching prison documentaries on Netflix and crying real tears during every single one—I had a heavy set of fears.
Was she getting her vitamins? Was the baby healthy with her past drug usage? Would the child really go to Charlie once he got out?
As far as I knew, Charlie was still locked up, and I was thankful for that. What I wasn’t thankful for was the fact that I had no way of knowing how my mother was doing. If she was being cared for, if she was scared.
Of course, she had to be scared. How could she not be?
When my thoughts became too loud and every terrifying thought passed through my mind, I built up enough courage to take myself to my old neighborhood and to knock on Garrett’s door.
I wore one of Ian’s oversize hoodies and had the hood up. I’d been sleeping in his hoodies each night since he left. I liked how they still smelled like him. It almost felt as if he were there with me each night.
My eyes kept darting around the trailer park with hopes that no one would notice me being there. Garrett’s past words kept playing in my head.
You know what happens to snitches?
When he came to the door, he grumbled as he pushed the screen open. A cigarette hung from between his lips, and he huffed out a cloud of smoke. “You got a lot of fucking nerve coming over here,” he muttered.
“Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t think of what else to do. I’ve been trying to get in contact with my mom, but she won’t reply to any of my letters. I’m not allowed to go visit anymore, and I’m worried about her.”
“Oh yeah? You’re worried about the mother you got locked up? How fucking thoughtful of you,” he sarcastically remarked, blowing more smoke directly into my face. He looked wrecked—as if he’d been using more than normal. When we were together, he’d never looked as strung out as his current state. He’d lost a lot of weight, it seemed, seeing as how his jeans were sitting so low against his hip bones. Had he been eating? Was he taking an inch of care of himself?
I swallowed hard and did my best to push the thought away.
Not my concern anymore.
I grimaced. “I just want to know that she’s all right. Have you been in contact with her?”
“Like I’d ever tell you shit.”
“Please, Garrett,” I pleaded. I wasn’t above begging. I needed answers to the questions shooting through my head day in and day out. “I only want to know that the baby is okay and what will happen when it’s delivered, since I don’t know if Charlie is going to be out of prison to take care of it. Do you know any of that, Garrett? Do you know anything?”