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Right when Barrett could finally admit to himself and his friends that he was still harboring his ridiculous high school crush, said crush seemingly dropped off the face of the earth.

Well, not exactly. He didn’t see Nell again for a week. He half expected her to show up at their usual Tuesday gig the night before, but he’d gotten his hopes up only to for them to crash down and mess him up on one of his best songs.

After their high from the past week, the mess-up made Toni shake his head and reiterate that Barrett messed up because he didn’t have his “good luck charm”.

Of course, she had no obligation to keep in contact with him. He just wished she would.

He had considered calling her house but worried her father would pick up, and he’d have to go by Scott again and raise unnecessary questions.

Plus, he shouldn’t look desperate. Calling her would look desperate. He was not desperate.

He sighed moodily and leaned his head on his hand, swiping to the next page of the latest-edition comic that Toni had brought to work that morning. Barrett should have waited until he was in a better mood to read it.

If he was going to be pining ridiculously, he’d rather be doing it at home on his guitar strings into some melancholy tune.

The comic book was slid out from his line of sight, and Barrett looked up to see Toni shaking his head and tsking his tongue in disapproval. “I expect better from you.”

“I was reading that,” Barrett lied.

“No, you weren’t. You were crying over it with that gross lovesick look on your face.”

“Mind your own damn business.”

“You know, if you wish hard enough, she might just walk through that door and put you out of your sad, sad misery.” He then mumbled under his breath, “Put me out of my misery too.”

“Get out of my face and do something productive, dickwad.” Barrett shoved lightly at Toni’s shoulder.

Toni wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at the door of the shop with a cocky smirk on his face.

The tinkling of the doorbell sang through the store, and Barrett followed his gaze.

Wishing or not, Toni had only said it because he must have already seen her.

Nell walked into the shop, with her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets even though it had to be a blazing hundred degrees today—the hottest day of the summer by far—and she looked like she was chilled through.

Her skin was pallid, her hair stringy like she hadn’t showered since he last saw her.

The rush of excitement that made his back straighten and clear his throat mellowed as his stomach dropped at the sight.

He stepped out from behind the counter and walked up to where she met him halfway. He nibbled on the inside of his cheek as his eyes roved, concerned, across her several times. “You look awful.”

She huffed a half-hearted laugh, and while she didn’t look amused, her lips tilted up enough for him to notice. “How sweet.”

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and looked past him.

He followed her eyes to Toni, who nodded and waved but stayed where he was. Barrett realized he was unlikely to get an explanation when there was more than just them two in a room.

“How was your guys’ gig?”

“Awesome, actually. They loved us in Bellevue.”

She smiled and shifted on her feet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come.”

“Well . . .” Barrett stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “You better make it next time. You’re still the designated lucky charm.”

She bit her lip and looked away. He wasn’t sure what went on in her mind, but she seemed like she was trying to convince herself of something.

Finally, whatever she was thinking set in, and she looked back at him with a determined stare. “I need something to do.”

Barrett raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything. Are you guys doing anything tonight?”

“We’re practicing tonight at Toni’s place. It’s not much—we play, mess up, yell at each other, and repeat,” he said. “But you’re welcome to come.”

“Watching you guys mess up and yell at each other sounds like the best thing ever.”

Barrett chuckled. “We start at six.”

She smiled up at him, this time with more life in it than before. Barrett found himself grinning back at her, light-headed.

“See you then.”

His feet remained nailed to the ground as she left with a jingle from the doorbell, and that pesky smile stayed glued to his face.

“I’m not sure what freaks me out more.” Toni stepped up, his arms crossed, with that teasingly judgmental twitch of his brow. “When you look like you’re gonna cry over a girl or when your face is about to split in two because of a girl. I’m not sure I can get used to either.”

“You might as well,” Barrett said, finally able to pull his eyes away after Nell disappeared from sight. “Because she’s coming to practice tonight.”

Toni huffed. “Can’t wait to see how the others react to that.”

* * *

Barrett found his eyes wandering to every passing person outside the wide-open garage door as the band ran through their song. Not that there were many, as most people avoided the area when the guys were slamming on drums and guitars.

Toni’s neighbor, Mrs. Carlyle, loved to rant about it being a noise hazard and “utter trash to this town”. Most people agreed with her, but Seventh Circle didn’t have much choice, nor did they care much.

He sang into the microphone, closing his eyes in hopes that it would keep him focused instead of constantly wondering if Nell was going to show up.

Paulie had begged them to do a cover of Ratt, so Barrett banged his head to the beat of Round and Round as he sang through the chorus. He had the hang of it this time. His digits jumped from one chord to the other blending as they should . . .

Then his fingers slipped, and the sound of disjointed chords spliced through the rhythm and echoed through the amp, making them all cringe and the music fade to a stop, instrument by instrument.

It was the third time he’d messed up the same section.

“Come on, Barrett, how hard can that part be?”

Barrett spun to glare at Toni. “Maybe you should drop those little sticks and come show me how it’s done since you know so much better.”

Toni shook his head in disapproval, then his eyes flicked over Barrett’s shoulder. “What do you think, Duncan? He’s teaching you, right? Don’t you think Barrett should be able to handle that little pass?”

Barrett’s adrenaline spiked at the mention of her name, and he almost turned. But he’d been dealt that same joke about five times in the past few weeks. “Nice try. I’m not falling for that shit again.”

“Whoa, Duncan. What’re you doing here?” Dennis was the one who asked this time.

Barrett grasped the neck of his guitar and held the stone still, determined not to fall into their ribbing.

“Scott invited me.”

Barrett snapped his head around because none of his friends were able to imitate Nell’s soft, sweet voice.

“Janelle,” Barrett said. He shouldn’t have been caught off guard, since he’d been waiting for her all night, but he still was.

She wasn’t wearing the same outfit as earlier. She wore sleeves a more appropriate length for the heat, and her hair looked like it had been washed. Her skin, however, remained pale.

“Hi.”

She shifted her feet and smiled at him from her spot outside the garage. “Hi.”

“Dude, we agreed on no guests during rehearsals.” Paulie groaned, then lowered his voice. “We sound like shit.”

“ Dude , if we cared about people hearing us practice, my neighborhood is the last place we would do it,” Toni rebutted.

“For what it’s worth, you guys sound amazing,” Nell said.

Paulie perked up and cleared his throat. “Well, okay. Just try not to distract us.”

“Noted.” Nell smiled at him but stayed where she was outside the garage.

Barrett realized then that he’d been standing there, staring like an idiot, and her attention was back on him. He adjusted his grip on his guitar and motioned to a couple of foldable chairs set to the side for when they needed to sit down. “You can sit over there.”

Nell smiled, and Barrett wondered if this might have been a bad idea. His mind, which normally wouldn’t shut up about anything, was one hundred percent on that girl as she walked into the garage and took a seat.

Ever since he’d admitted to himself that his crush was back in full force, it was like his mind had just been waiting for him to verbally admit it before it wreaked havoc on him. That didn’t bode well on his playing.

“From the top,” he said, tearing his eyes away from her in hopes it would help. “One, two, three . . .”