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He grinned down at her, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck.

“What’d you think, Duncan?” Both of them jumped at Toni’s voice, not realizing he was there until he appeared right next to Barrett and slapped his shoulder. “Did we totally kill it, or did we totally kill it?” Toni leaned against his taller friend and glared down at him.

“You totally killed it.”

“See, I knew it was a great idea to invite her. I think that’s the best we’ve ever played, and we had our first-ever crowd of screaming fans.” Toni sighed dreamily. “You’re our good luck charm, Duncan.”

Nell’s smile faltered slightly. She knew that was supposed to be a compliment, and while it made her chest clench with a long-forgotten feeling of belonging, it brought on a sense of dread. Her hands pulled together and fidgeted in front of her.

It was a lot of pressure to be a good luck charm, considering how bad her luck seemed to be. She’d hate to be the cause of anything going wrong.

“Stay and have a drink with us.”

Once again, she’d been snuck up on. Dennis and Paulie, who had just spoken, had appeared while she was too caught up in worrying.

Now that she was pulled back to the moment, she saw all four of them smiling at her.

Barrett, with a slight wrinkle between his eyes, seemed to be the only one to notice she’d been lost in her head for a moment.

She met his gaze, and when she saw the softness in his, she relaxed. “I thought you guys were about to leave.”

“Us? Leave without getting plastered?” Dennis said. “Unheard of.”

“But Scott told those girls . . .”

The other three blinked and simultaneously blanched like she’d just grown three heads. They all exchanged glances.

Barrett shook his head. “I just wanted them to leave. We always stay for a drink after a show. The bartender here is chill. Never checks ID if we tip well.”

“Oh.” Her heart fluttered in her throat again. He’d asked them to leave, those screaming fans, and asked her to stay. The guys wanted her there. “I could use a drink.”

They guided her to another table and took seats. Dennis gathered their drink orders and headed to the bar to get them. The rock sound of Seventh Circle was replaced by more well-known Top 40 hits that played on the radio, coming from a jukebox by the entrance.

“Have you been here before?” Barrett asked and, leaning back in his chair, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He held it out, Nell, Toni, and Paulie each partaking. Toni produced a lighter and flicked it on so they could all light.

Nell brought it to her lips and inhaled the thick smoke, savoring the familiar tang.

She’d managed to salvage enough of the ones ruined the day in the rain, but since she learned that Barrett’s weed was much more useful, she’d somewhat abandoned her cigarettes.

This was a nice meeting with an old friend.

“No, never.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Toni said. “Not exactly the type of hangout that most of your crowd would’ve gone to, is it?” He exhaled a stream of smoke.

Nell took another hit. The mention of those days was like a punch to the stomach. It was only months ago, and yet it felt like a lifetime. She’d become a completely different person.

“Can you sing?” Paulie asked. “You look like the type who can sing.”

Dennis arrived at that point, juggling several glasses all filled with a golden-amber color. He handed Nell hers first before distributing the rest to the others.

“What does that even mean? Can people look like singers?” Dennis asked, his brow curled in confusion as he caught the tail end of Paulie’s question.

“I don’t know. Some people just have that look .” Paulie shrugged.

Nell shook her head. “Unfortunately, I can’t sing. And you wouldn’t want me to either. I’m atrocious.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Barrett said after taking a sip of his beer. “You seem like you’re good at everything.”

“Well, you shouldn’t believe that because I’m not. You should know that, based on how I play guitar.”

Barrett threw his head back and laughed.

“Too bad.” Toni shook his head with the glass up to his smirk. “You could have sung with Barrett.”

Nell caught the way Toni raised his eyebrow at Barrett, suggesting something that Nell wasn’t close enough to interpret. She’d done the same thing with her friends. She’d been able to have entire conversations with them across classrooms through looks alone.

She missed that connection. No one else in her life now came close to it.

The way they would laugh without any words or tell secrets without a whisper . . .

She quickly filled the emptiness left behind by the memories with the bitter drink, which was distasteful but more palatable than the harder liquors she’d been sticking to these days. Combined with the cigarette, it had a soothing sensation she rarely got from either substance lately.

Barrett responded to Toni with a nearly imperceptible narrowing of his eyes before following Nell’s lead and taking a long chug.

Dennis was bugging Paulie about something he’d done during one song or another—rock jargon she couldn’t quite understand—but she was perfectly content with sitting back and watching them interact.

She’d lived the past months something like an onlooker on the others around her. Rarely had she been expected to, or wanted to, engage anymore, so watching the boys talk about topics that didn’t relate to her had become second nature. A comfortable, familiar friend.

What wasn’t familiar was when they would turn to her suddenly, with a new drink that one or the other had ordered, and ask her questions about herself. Everyone else in that town already assumed they knew everything there was to know about Janelle Duncan.

It was nice, she thought, to finally be around people who pretended to know nothing.

* * *

“Another round on me,” Toni said, his speech slurring now after several rounds already.

Nell, who wasn’t far off from him, laughed at some joke Dennis made about the way Mr. Minster from school always wore his pants up his crack, and she found herself leaning against Barrett in his chair as she did.

She realized what she was doing when his body tensed against her, and she at least had enough sense to push up off him and pull away.

“Sorry.” She giggled, that drunken happy bubble still lifting her above reality.

Being drunk with them was much more fun than being drunk in her bedroom or on the ground outside her window.

Barrett made a noncommittal hum and looked away. He and Dennis were the only ones still speaking straight, sticking more to the tray of french fries and onion dip they’d ordered.

She scanned the people around, freely watching them engage in conversations or chug a beer or dance to whatever was playing from the jukebox or just laugh with their friends. This was why she liked watching so much. She liked to see people who were living.

Her eyes jumped to a neighboring table and were immediately caught by another pair—blue, alert, and devastatingly hateful.

She grew up seeing those eyes, the exact same as Sam’s, but on another face.

That oblivious bubble she was floating up in popped, and Nell’s stomach flew into her throat as she crashed back to earth. The blast of reality was debilitating, sending her back with a jolt.

His blond hair was slicked back, his face dark as his hand clutched a glass with white knuckles.

How long had he sat there watching her?

What had he thought when he saw her laughing and drinking and enjoying her time when it was her fault that his sister was dead?

All the alcohol reversed. She had seconds to get up and run to the ladies’ room. She heard her name behind her, and though it could be coming from anyone, terrified chills ran up her arms.

Bending over the only open toilet, she emptied her stomach into the bowl.

She heaved over and over until nothing came out, leaving her head aching and her throat raw and stinging.

She sat there for what felt like hours until she heard the door open and footsteps enter. They stopped right behind her, and she looked over her shoulder through blurry, watery eyes that struggled to make the person out until she blinked.

She started when she saw Barrett standing there, his brows furrowed.

“You okay?”

“I need to go.” Her voice was hoarse.

He nodded.

The next thing Nell knew, he was putting his arms around her, lifting her up onto unsteady feet.

She was surprised by how easily he handled her, then she remembered the night she’d fallen asleep in at his place and somehow woken up in his bed.

She’d thought it would be amazing if he had managed to lift her, given his slender frame, but now she thought it was possible.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said once she was back on her feet.

“No, I need to ride my bike.”

“But—”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice rising with finality. “I can’t .”

His eyes flickered back and forth between hers like he couldn’t understand. And how could he? Her own parents couldn’t understand.

Despite that, he nodded and tucked her into his side as he led her out the empty room, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Then we’ll walk.”