Strike (Sphere of Irony 2) - Page 27

The things I do for my best friend. That was the most awkward conversation of my life.

“Here we are.” The cab pulls up in front of my dorm. We pile out of the car with her weekend bag.

“This is fab, Kate.” Ellie shades her eyes to look up at the tall dormitory building. “This whole place, it’s like…” she slowly spins in a circle, taking in the campus, the palm trees, the sunny weather, the students laughing and walking by, “it’s like a movie in real life!”

I chuckle as I unlock the outer door. “I thought the same thing at first, El. You get used to it. It’s not as posh as it seems, trust me.”

We cram into the elevator with a few other students. “It’s better than Hackney, that’s for sure,” she whispers.

“Yeah. It is.”

I can’t disagree. As insignificant as I feel in L.A., Hackney was bloody depressing. The misery and poverty pressed down heavily on your psyche, making you feel as if you carried the weight of the world around with you every single day. At least L.A. looks happy, even if it has a desperate, fake soul under that shiny surface.

“Let’s get settled and get ready to go out. We’ve got big plans tonight!” I keep my voice light, trying to shed the dark mood that has fallen over us.

The lift doors open to my floor. Ellie grins, her face lighting up and for a moment she looks like the old Ellie again, the best mate who had a brilliant future ahead of her, not the shell of a girl who got off a plane an hour ago. “Big plans, huh?”

I grin back. “Yep. Big. Huge.”

“Well, let’s get to it then.”

God, it feels so good to see her. “I’m glad you’re here, El.” I hug her, holding her tight. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, Kate.” She straightens up, breaking the embrace. “Now, take me to your flat. I want to meet this slag flatmate of yours.”

I nearly choke in disbelief. Ellie never talks bad about someone. She meets my gaze and we burst out laughing.

“Right. C’mon then. The town bike’s waiting to meet you. Be careful, she may try to chat you up as well. Her lust knows no bounds, I’m sure. She’s some spoiled socialite or something.”

We’re overcome with laughter again, and just like that, it’s as if we were never apart.

Dax

“C’mon! You lot are making us late.” I barge into the backstage room of whatever club we’re playing tonight to yell at my mates. Glancing around, I notice one of us is not where he’s supposed to be. “Christ! He’s gone missing again?”

Gavin looks up from his seat on the floor next to Hawke, pointing at the closed door on one side of the tiny space. The moaning and groaning I hear leaves no doubt what Adam’s up to on the other side.

“We tried telling him. He doesn’t listen to us.” Hawke shrugs and returns his focus to his mobile, not caring one way or another if we’re onstage when we’re supposed to be. How in the fuck I became the dependable one of this lot, I have no bloody clue.

“Adam!” I bang my fist on the door, rattling it in its frame. “Get your sorry arse out here now!” I know I’m being a dick simply because I’m going to be seeing Kate tonight and it has me all wound up. After turning me down flat and then dodging me for five months she rings me out of nowhere, and not because she misses me, but because Ellie is in town and she wants to see Adam.

I’m angry with myself for caring, and even angrier with myself for trying to make things right with Kate after she shut me down. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I can’t stand the thought of Kate thinking I’m a bastard. Even though I undoubtedly am.

Seconds later, the door to the room opens and out strolls a blonde tart, Adam trailing not too far behind. With a hand to the chest, I shove him back and slam the door, giving us privacy, although, I’m quite sure Gavin and Hawke will be able to hear every word I say, as I’m not planning on being quiet.

“You useless fucking tit!” My finger stabs into Adam’s chest. “I didn’t come to this bloody fucking hot, miserable, stuck up city to babysit your pathetic, whinging arse.” My best mate’s eyes go wide at my verbal explosion. I can only hope my words have finally hit their mark with him. “Get your shit together and do it fast, Reynolds. I’m not failing at this because you can’t get over Ellie. Man the fuck up and stop being such a big girl’s blouse. No more shags before gigs. I could give a fuck less what you do after, but we will get on stage on-fucking-time. Understand?”

Adam swallows and nods. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never been on the receiving end of my temper, precariously balanced on a knife’s-edge at all times. He’s bloody well seen what I can do with my fists when I’m angry and certainly doesn’t want to go down that road.

Storming out of the room, I bellow at Gavin and Hawke. “Get your lazy arses up! It’s show time and I’m going to have fucking fun if it kills me!”

Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.

Fuck you, dad. Despite my hate for him and his rules, I still force myself to wipe the hostility off my face as I was trained. I pause in the hall to calm down, clear my head, and carefully bottle everything up inside. The others brush past me as I lean my forehead into the wall and close my eyes. If Kate were back here she would have me set to rights in half a second. All she’d have to do is smile and I’d be ready to go.

Why am I thinking that? Because she’s out in the crowd somewhere? She’s not to see me. Why can’t I just fucking let it go?

“Fuck me.”

Tags: Heather C. Leigh Sphere of Irony Romance
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