Chapter 55 You don’t play fair.
Saraphina
My thumb was hovering over the screen, ready to tap, when Cole’s hand suddenly darted out and snatched my phone away.
“Hey!” I said, the protest automatic.
“Not tonight, Saraphina. He sends you emails every day. You read them, and then you’re miserable for a solid hour. That’s not happening this time. Because tonight, you are going to have fun,” he told me, his voice leaving no room for argument as he slid my phone into his jacket pocket.
My shoulders sank. I let out a long, heavy breath. It was annoying how right he was. I needed to stop drowning in thoughts of Ryan, to at least try and live my life. Maybe tonight could be the start.
“You are a good friend, but I really hate you right now,” I muttered, making a face.
“How are you going to survive in this world without me, Livingston?”
“I will find a way.”
Cole gave me a playful nudge, and I pushed him right back. Moving my head to the music, I turned to look at the stage again. And there he was. The guitarist. Looking right at me with a knowing little smile.
“Is it just me, or is that guy on stage seriously trying to get your attention?” Cole asked, nodding toward him.
“I’m not sure,” I said with a shrug.
“What?”
“Saraphina Livingston, you are turning red.”
“I am not!” My mouth fell open in fake outrage.
“Well, it’s a little weird, him looking at people in the crowd like that. But hey, if you’re interested, I can always ask Elle to introduce you.”
“Cole, I swear to god, do not do anything stupid, or I will smack your face!” I pushed him again, laughing, and he pushed me back.
“You know what we need? Drinks. Do not worry, Livingston, I am taking care of you,” he said, and before I could argue, he was pulling me toward the bar.
It happened fast. We were taking shots quicker than you can say some ridiculously long name. My last time drinking had been a disaster, but this was different. This was fun. Being with Cole, the sting of the tequila, the live music pounding in my chest, it all worked together to push Ryan out of my head for a little while.
“This is our last song tonight. We are doing a cover for you. Hope you like it.” Elle’s voice came over the microphone, and the crowd screamed. Cole and I yelled along with them. The music started up, and Elle began to sing.
“Summer after high school, when we first met…”
“We make-out in your Mustang to Radiohead…”
“And on my eighteenth birthday, we got matching tattoos…”
Every word was a punch to the heart. It was our story. Ryan’s and mine. The memories rushed back in, playing behind my eyes like a movie I could not turn off. Seeing him for the first time outside his garage… singing along to songs in his car… that moment on the cliff where we almost kissed… him finding me in the woods and giving me his jacket… the fireworks on the Fourth of July… riding on his motorcycle, sneaking around at night… the way he watched me when we danced in the rain… the first time we were together…
For fuck’s sake, Saraphina. Just stop thinking about him!
“You still with me, Livingston?” Cole’s voice broke through the fog. I had completely spaced out. I did not even notice the song had ended and a new band had started playing.
“Cole… I think I need” I started, but someone tapped his shoulder and he turned around.
“Cole!” Elle was standing there, her face lit up.
“Elle! That was incredible!”
“Thanks! I am so glad you came.”
“Oh, this is my friend Saraphina. Saraphina, this is Elle,” Cole said, waving a hand between us.
“Oh, you are Saraphina!” Elle’s smile got even brighter. “I have heard all about you.”
I shot a look at Cole, who had a guilty expression on his face. Just what had he told her?
“Hey,” a voice said, and a guy appeared beside Elle.
It was the guitarist. He was even better looking up close. Dark, messy hair. Pierced ears. Deep brown eyes. And, yes, a full sleeve of tattoos down one arm.
“Everyone, this is Noah, from the band. Noah, this is Cole and Saraphina,” Elle said, gesturing to us.
Noah’s eyes stayed fixed on me.
“Saraphina. That is a beautiful name,” he said, and I caught the smooth English accent in his voice.
“You sound like Harry Potter,” Cole said, his words slurring together. Alcohol made him wonderfully stupid.
“Well, I am from Hogwarts,” Noah replied, easy and cool.
I did not know why, but I found that funny. A small laugh slipped out, and Noah saw it.
“So, we are having a little get-together at my place after this. You two should come,” Elle said.
I looked at Cole, worried, but he was already answering. “We would love to!”
“Great, I will text you the address. We have to get our stuff from backstage. See you soon,” Elle said. She grabbed Noah’s arm to pull him away. He did not seem to want to go, but Elle was determined. He rolled his eyes at her, then threw a quick, charming grin my way before he was gone.
It was a nice grin. But I had seen a better one.
“Cole, why are we going to a party? We have class tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“We do. But we also have a life,” he laughed. “Come on, it will be fun. Besides, I think Mr. Potter really wants you there.”
I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm. “Cole,” I said, my tone shifting. “I need my phone back now.”
“But Saraphina, you said.”
“Cole, please. Give me the phone, and we will go to the party.”
He let out a long, defeated sigh and handed it over. The second it was in my hand, I turned and walked quickly outside, moving into the back alley where the music was just a dull thump.
I leaned against the cool metal of the bar’s back door, took a deep breath that did not steady me at all, and with hands that would not stop shaking, I opened my email.
From: Ryan J. Williams
Subject: You don’t play fair.