It was one of the rare Saturday nights when Nash and Felix didn’t have a gig planned. It was even rarer because Nash and I were alone. Peyton was out on a date, and Felix was at a wedding for someone in his family. Nash flipped through the channels on the TV rapidly, unable to settle on anything to watch. I played with the strings on my hoodie, watching his profile. We were both sitting on the couch, though there was space between us. His parents weren’t home, and neither was his sister, who was rarely here now that she was off at college. She was going to Pitt downtown but lived on campus.

Nash turned the TV off and slammed the remote down on the table. “There’s nothing on.” His body rolled with uneasy energy. I had no idea what was going on, but something was unsettling him.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “I don’t know. I just… I can’t explain it.” He rested his head against the back of the couch and blew out a slow breath. “I want something more, you know? Something different.” He turned to face me. “Don’t you ever feel that way? Like you want out of this town, to do something different?”

I studied his face, the anxious lines of it. Sometimes I wanted something different, but I was happy here. My family was here, my best friends, my life. “I guess.”

He pushed himself off the couch and paced around the room. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going to claw out of my skin, like I need something different than this life. I feel like I’m wasting away, Bee. I don’t know how to stop it.”

The anguish on his face gutted me. I stood and went to him, the instinct to comfort him too strong to ignore. I wrapped my arms around him, curving my body into his. He held onto me. His heart beat a heavy rhythm in his chest. My mind reeled with ways to help him, to ease the anxiety coursing through him. The room was filled with his mood and I couldn’t think around it. “What would help?”

“I don’t know.” His hands pressed harder against my back. “Have you ever thought of booking us somewhere outside the city? I feel like we’ve played the same places over and over. It’d be nice to play to a new crowd.”

I looked up at him. “Why don’t we look together?” I asked. He nodded and grabbed the laptop from the desk in the corner. We got situated on the couch and he opened a browser tab, typing in under 21 concert venues, small bands. He widened the search to include all of Pennsylvania. Most of the places were ones we’d never go to. They looked rundown or rough. Some were for older bands, even though we’d searched for venues accepting younger people. After what felt like forever, my eyes landed on The Philly. I pointed at the screen. “What about this one? I’ve heard of it. Isn’t that where Indecision got started?” They were a band from right outside Philadelphia that blew up years ago. They’d become a huge name in music. I was pretty sure The Philly is where they’d kind of kick started their career.

“Do you think they’d accept us?” Nash pinched his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Only one way to find out.” I found their number and dialed. I cleared my throat as it rang, sitting up straighter.

“Hi, this is Roger. You’ve reached The Philly. If you’re looking to book a time slot, leave a message, and I’ll get back to you,” the gruff voice said. I left a brief, professional voice message and hung up.

“There’s nothing to do now but wait.” I shrugged.

“It’d be cool if we got in there, but I’m not holding my breath.” Nash closed the laptop, then sat back on the cushions.

“Only time will tell.” I pulled my legs up underneath me. “Let’s watch a movie.” He picked up the remote and turned the TV on, this time settling on something on HBO. I hoped for his sake that Roger called me back. I wanted to get this for him so badly.

I sat at my desk, bent over my math textbook doing homework. I had a ton of homework to do and a huge English test tomorrow. I’d come straight to my room and gotten to work when I’d gotten home. The end of the grading period was soon, and it was like the teachers felt the need to crush us with work. My phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, is this Bianca Fair?” the voice answered. I immediately recognized it as the voice from The Philly.

“Yes, it is.”

“This is Roger. I’m scouting some new talent to perform, and I figured I’d give you a call about your guys.” I heard shuffling papers. “I’m going to need some kind of recording—video or audio.”

“Of course,” I said, scrambling. I navigated my laptop to YouTube, pulling up the page the guys uploaded some of their performances to. “I have YouTube links, does that work?”

“Yeah. Email them to me.” He rattled off an email address, and I typed it in a new message, then pasted the links to a few of their better gigs into the body of the message.

“I just sent them.” I bit my lip nervously.

I heard some clicking and more shuffling from his end of the call, then the muted sounds of HeartLess playing in the background. Roger grunted. “They’re good.” He sounded surprised. I held my breath for what felt like forever as he continued watching them. “I have an opening on October twenty-second. They’ll be on at seven, after another act, closing out the show. I usually don’t give new, young talent the main spot, but I like these guys.” I scribbled frantically across my math notebook, trying to get all the details down as my hand shook. “Be here at four to set everything up and make sure it’s all ready to go when we open the doors at six. They’ll have an hour and a half to play.” My hand cramped with how furiously I was writing. “Any questions?”

My mind reeled, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. “I don’t think so right now.”

“If you need anything, call me back at this number, and I’ll do my best to help you.”

“Thank you so much.” I stood, holding the phone painfully tight in my hand. “They’ll be so excited.”

“Welcome to The Philly family. I hope the show is a success for them. See you then.” He hung up before I had time to respond. I stared at my phone, in complete disbelief over what had just happened. I needed to tell Nash and Felix. I opened the planner for the band and checked today. They were practicing in Nash’s garage. I flew down the stairs and threw my shoes on and a hoodie. Thankfully, my parents were still at work, so I didn’t have to answer the barrage of questions they always had anytime I left the house.

I ran the two blocks to Nash’s house, never so thankful in all my life that he lived so close. By the time I got there, I was out of breath, and my face was bright red. I barged into the garage, cutting Nash off in the middle of playing.

“Bee?” he said when he saw my face.

I panted, trying desperately to get my lungs to fill with enough oxygen to get the words out. “Philly called,” I huffed. “You have a gig. Three weeks.” I bent over, putting my hands on my knees.

“What?” Nash asked, putting his guitar down and moving closer to me. Felix stood from behind his drums and walked over. I wondered if Nash had told him about my call to the venue a few days ago. From the confused look on his face, I’d guess no.

I inhaled as deeply as I could. “The Philly called me back. They want you there on October twenty-second. You’re the main act.”

Nash and Felix exchanged wide-eyed looks before they erupted into cheers. They did a weird bro hug, slapping each other on the back, before descending on me, pulling me into a hug and jumping around. I wheezed as they jostled me, still attempting to catch my breath and cursing myself. My legs already burned from the run over here. I hoped my body wouldn’t punish me for this later.

“You’re the best, Bee,” Nash crooned, pressing his lips against my cheek. My body hummed at the contact.

“There has never been a better manager in the whole world!” Felix whooped. I beamed at them as they continued celebrating. I felt a surge of pride at being referred to as their manager. I’d had no official title, I’d just enjoyed helping them out. It was nice to feel part of the thing they were building.

“We have so much to organize,” Nash said, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. “We have to figure out how we’re going to get there if we’re staying, who’s going to take us.”

“I’ll handle it.” I pressed into him, and he squeezed me tighter. This is where I was meant to be.

“I know you will.” He kissed my temple, smiling down at me. “You always have everything under control.”

If only I could get my emotions and body under control.

“I can’t believe no one has asked me to the dance yet,” Peyton said, rolling over to her back on the floor. We were at my house again. We always seemed to be here. Since Nash and Felix were here, we were stuck in the living room. My parents didn’t care if Nash was in my room, but they drew the line at Felix. I chalked it up to them being old-fashioned. If only they realized I had inappropriate thoughts about Nash and not Felix. There’d never been anything but platonic feelings between Felix and me anyway.

“Maybe because you’re a pain in the ass,” Felix said from the couch. He was flipping through a magazine.

“I am not.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “I thought Max was going to ask me, but he asked Deidre instead.”

“No one’s asked me either,” I added.

“Really?” Nash asked.

“No. It’s just homecoming, not something special.” Though I was lying. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to go alone. I figured all my friends would have dates and I’d stay home alone. I didn’t have an interest in going with anyone but Nash anyway. The chances of him asking me were nonexistent, especially since the dance was this coming weekend. “Did you ask anyone?” I asked Nash.

He shook his head. “I hadn’t really thought about it. My focus has been on The Philly.”

Of course, it was. It was next weekend, only Homecoming weekend between now and the gig. He and Felix had spent every waking minute getting ready. In fact, they’d just showed up at my house during a small break. “Do you have everything ready?”

“Almost,” Felix said. “Don’t listen to Nash. He’s a liar, and nothing is ever good enough for him. If it were up to him, we’d do nothing but tweak and rearrange until we walked out on that stage. I refuse to let him.”

“You have to let go a little.” Peyton leaned forward and poked Nash in the leg. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s a gig just like every other gig. You’ll kill it and be all excited.”

“It just feels bigger. It’s on a whole other level.” Nash grabbed her hand before she could poke him again. She laughed at him.

“You’ll kick ass, just relax a little.” Peyton laid back on the floor. “What if we all went to the dance together?” she mused out loud. “None of us have dates and who better to go with than our BFFs?”

A jolt of excitement went through me. Sure, it wasn’t going alone with Nash, but it was close enough. I could probably get a few dances out of him at the very least. “I like that idea.”

“Let’s do it.” Nash squeezed my knee, though I felt that pressure throughout my entire body. “Will that be enough time for you ladies to get everything together that you need to?”

“Yep. I’ll drag Bianca out shopping, and I’ll get her all sexy for the night.”

Nash cut his eyes to me, his hand impossibly hot against my jean-covered leg. “I can’t wait to see.”

“Ready?” Peyton asked, applying more lip gloss as she leaned toward the mirror.

I smoothed my hands down my teal skirt. “Yep.” We’d spent the last couple hours getting ready, getting our nails done, doing our hair, and hanging out before the dance.

Downstairs, Nash and Felix waited with all of our parents. As soon as I entered the room, my eyes found Nash, and he smiled at me. His smile was so bright it was almost blinding. I looked him over, soaking in everything about him. He wore a black suit that fit his body perfectly, with a tie that made his eyes pop. Somehow, he’d tamed his hair. I wanted to run my hands through it to mess it up because he didn’t look right without his hair disheveled. Next to him, Felix almost matched him, the only difference was a gray tie to match Peyton’s grayish-silver dress. He looked good, but Nash stole the show.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” my mom said. She came over and hugged me. My mom smoothed her hand over my hair before kissing my forehead.

My dad pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “You all look good,” he said. He squeezed Nash’s shoulder.

“Gorgeous!” Mrs. James exclaimed. “All of you look so handsome and gorgeous.”

We posed for pictures as our parents fussed over us. Picture after picture, Nash touched me. His hands were on my hips, wrapped around me to rest on my abdomen, his arms around my shoulders. I wanted to glue myself to him, so I never had to separate from him. After we were done getting our pictures taken, Nash left his arm dangling over my shoulder, his hand hanging there and tempting me, so I reached up, threading my fingers through his. He squeezed my hand and smiled.

“You look beautiful,” Nash whispered in my ear while our parents continued fussing over us. Goose bumps raced across my skin as my blood sang with his praise.

“Thank you.” I looked down at the ground to hide my flushed cheeks. “You look handsome.” His response was to squeeze me a little tighter.

“Ready to leave?” Mrs. James asked. She was our ride to the dance since none of us had our licenses yet. Nash was supposed to get his this coming week.

“Let’s get ready to party!” Felix exclaimed, grabbing Peyton by the hand and dragging her from the house. We piled into Nash’s parents’ van. Nash sat next to me with his hand splayed on the seat between us. I could feel the heat coming from it, and I wished he’d touch me. Every time he shifted or turned to talk to Felix or the car went over a bump, I’d anticipate his hand on me. I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life.

At the dance, Peyton dragged us all to the dance floor, immediately moving her body to the upbeat tempo of a Katy Perry song. Felix joined in, his long limbs making him look a little ridiculous. Nash ran a hand through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” I wrung my hands in front of me.

“I don’t dance, at least not to fast songs.” He looked over the dancing bodies.

“Come on.” I grabbed his hand and led him over to the table with cookies and some kind of punch. I picked up a cookie and handed it to him.

“You’re not upset that we’re not dancing?” he asked.

I shrugged. “We can later. Let’s just hang out for now.”  

He smiled, walking toward the bleachers. We sat, watching everyone around us. Music rang out around us, chatter filled the room. I finished my own cookie and folded the napkin, needing something to do with my hands. I’d never felt so awkward with Nash in my entire life. I felt like I needed to say or do something, but I was at a loss. Peyton would know what to do, but she was dancing with Felix, laughing and having a good time. I felt like I was stuck in this weird limbo with Nash.

He cleared his throat, and I turned to him. “You look really good tonight, Bee. I know I already said it, but I want to make sure you know.”

I smiled. “Thanks.” I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Why was this so painful? He was just Nash. A slow song played, and he stood, holding his hand out to me.

“This is the right tempo for me. Dance with me?”

I put my hand in his, and he pulled me close, right next to the bleachers. This corner of the gym was darker since the focus was on the dance floor and DJ. It felt like we had our own intimate space. His arms curled around me, pulling me flush against his body. A small gasp escaped me at how close we were. I wound my arms around his neck and swayed with him. We stared into each other’s eyes, something passing between us that I couldn’t quite decipher. He shifted, moving me closer to him. His thighs brushed mine, and our hips were flush against each other. My heart skipped and began racing as my stomach erupted in a hoard of butterflies. One of his hands moved up my back to between my shoulders. My dress had a small cutout there so his skin was against mine and my body erupted in tingles and fire. Every place he touched was burning with awareness.

“This is nice,” he said, leaning even closer until our cheeks were pressed together.

My eyes were wide as I tried to process all of this. Too many sensations flooded my body, and I couldn’t figure out where to focus or what was going on. “It is.”

“I like having you to myself, over here. Nobody interrupting us, no Felix joking, no Peyton making smartass comments.” I laughed breathily. My thoughts were entirely too scrambled to come up with a suitable answer. Nash hummed along to the song, the vibrations against my face overloading me. I closed my eyes, soaking in the feel of him. I wanted to bottle this moment up and never forget it. My breathing was shallow, and I felt light-headed. Was I going to pass out? That would completely ruin everything.

The song switched to a faster one, but Nash continued holding me, swaying us slowly in the darkened corner of the gym. No amount of money could pry me away. As far as I was concerned, I could die right here and now—happily. He sang into my ear, his lips brushing against it. A shiver ran down my spine, and I melted farther into him.

We stayed there in the corner for two more songs. It was my own slice of heaven. Felix and Peyton came over and ruined it all. I’d never hated my best friend more than I did at this moment.

“Come on, guys!” Peyton pulled on Nash, separating us. I whimpered at the loss of his body against mine. “It’s my turn to dance with Nashy-poo.”

Nash groaned. “Please don’t ever call me that again.”

Peyton didn’t answer, just dragged him back to the center of the room.

“Wanna dance?” Felix asked his hands in his pockets.

“Sure.” I looped my arm through his, and we joined Nash and Peyton.

Nash danced to fast songs, though his movements were offbeat and weird. He clearly didn’t have dancing skills to match his music and vocal ones. My eyes kept snagging on him. He’d wink at me or shoot me a smile. I wanted him to come over and pull me into his arms again.

The rest of the dance passed this way, all of us dancing. When it ended with a slow song, Felix asked me to dance. He held me at a respectable distance and chatted with me about random things. Nash and Peyton danced together, and I found myself staring at them. I analyzed how close their bodies were and if he was speaking with her. Nash held her at arm’s length. There was none of the intimacy that we’d shared during our brief time.

Nash’s parents picked us up outside the dance. Instead of sitting in the middle of the van, he sat in the very back and patted the seat next to him.

“I had fun tonight,” he said once I’d sat. His hand came down on top of mine.

“I did, too. Even if you suck at dancing.”

He laughed. “I never claimed to be good at everything.”

“You just implied it.”

“Okay, okay. You got me there.” He smiled, shifting a little closer to me. “Wanna go to the next dance together?” His voice was quiet, almost shy.

“That sounds great. I’d love to.” I hoped I didn’t come off as excited as I really felt.

His eyes moved over my face as though they were touching me. Awareness prickled along my skin and heat swirled low in my belly. “Winter formal. It’s a date.”

My stomach flipped at the word date. “It’s a date.” I smiled, trying to calm myself down. My heart felt heavy and bruised in my chest because it was so full, not because it was broken.

At least, it wasn’t broken yet. Because, as I thought, a lot could happen in two months.