Page 58 of Next to Everything We Wanted

After going through security and using the bathroom, we stood in line for snacks.

“So, what got you into Whiteout?” Gavin asked, putting his hands in his pockets. “How long have you been listening to them?”

“I’ve been obsessed with them for years,” I said. “I think I started listening to them in eighth grade, and I just finished my junior year yesterday.”

“Congrats on finishing the school year,” he said.

“Thank you. Finals almost killed me.” I wiped imaginary sweat from my forehead. “I streamed Whiteout’s songs like crazy while studying. That and your band’s songs.” I nudged him with my elbow, hoping it didn’t come across as too friendly.

His freckled cheeks flushed. “I’m glad we could help you pass.”

“I could never study without music.” I stepped forward in line. “What about you? How long have you been listening to them?”

“Only for a year. Celia introduced them to me.” He bit his lip so hard that he winced.

“She must have great taste, too.”

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “What songs are you hoping they perform tonight? I couldn’t even tell what your favorites were with how you sang every song on the playlist.”

“That’s because all their songs are my favorite. If I really had to choose, I’d say ‘Midnight Kiss’. It’s one of my favorite love songs.”

“Really?” The Pacific waters in his eyes came to life. “How do we have the same taste? Are we the same person?”

“Possibly,” I said, my lips forming a smile.

A dark-haired man appeared and asked if we wanted any drinks. They all had fancy names I couldn’t pronounce.

“Thank you, but we don’t drink,” I told him. “We’re underage.”

“Ah, sorry.” The man smiled. “You guys look like you’ve been together for a while.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flushed. “We’re not together. He has a girlfriend.”

“I do?” Gavin asked, blinking at me.

The man only laughed before walking away, leaving Gavin and I staring at each other.

“A-Aren’t you and Celia dating?” I asked, nearly tripping over my feet as we moved forward in line. “You have each other tagged on your social media profiles as your other half.” I winced, hoping I didn’t sound like a stalker.

His reddish-brown eyebrows arched. “You thought we were still together?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “You aren’t?”

“Crap, I guess we haven’t made it public.” He scratched the back of his neck. “We broke up a month ago.”

“Amonth?” I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. “I’m sorry. About the breakup and that I thought you guys were still together. You were a great couple.”

He shrugged, though his face pinched. “Not everything is meant to last forever.”

“Did you want it to last forever?” I winced, realizing how personal the question was. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer?—”

“I didn’t really think about forever,” he said. “Though I did think about our future. At least a few years into it. But, yeah, our story’s ended.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “It must be hard to be bandmates and exes at the same time.”

He looked away from me. “Not the hardest thing in the world.”

We didn’t talk for the rest of our time in line. After we got popcorn and soda, we headed into the theater to get our lower bowl seats. The first opening act, a girl who I’d never heard of, had started performing, but the crowd was dead.