Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rhys
My chest’s already squeezing tight enough to cut off my breath when I answer Danny’s call.
“Rhys!” he says in that tight, friendly voice that makes my chest clamp tighter. “You wanna fill me in on this TikTok I’m watching of you performing a song called ‘Fa-La La-La Land’ that sounds nothing like the copyrighted version?”
Something in his tone reminds me of the one time in grammar school Ricky came after me.
He wasn’t much bigger than me, and he wasn’t the brute kind of bully.
He was the sly kind—the kind who’d ask nicely for what he wanted while choking you in a headlock that looked like roughhousing to the teachers.
He “asked” me for my Game Boy. I’d pulled a million weeds for nearly a year to earn the money for it. I’d had it one day—and still had blisters on my hands from the last batch of weeds I’d pulled. I told him no. He tightened his chokehold, sending tears to my eyes.
And I lost it.
Elbowed him in the gut, slipped free, then landed a punch square in his nose. I don’t know how many times after that. I only remember someone hauling me off and Ricky curled up on the ground, blood spurting from his face.
I got suspended for two days, but Mum and Dad didn’t see the justice in that and let me play my Game Boy the whole time.
My throat tightens the same way it did that day. Feels like I’m back in the schoolyard, only this time the headlock’s a record deal. Danny’s voice is calm, but I can hear the threat under it, the same way VibeHouse blokes sound right before they tear you apart.
My vision goes spotty and dark, same as it did when Ricky had me in that headlock. Good thing I’m not in the same room with Danny. I open my mouth to tell him as much, but the dim hallway flickers, then goes completely black.
“Danny? You there?” I say into my mobile, which has gone dark like the hallway and the rest of the house.
No response.
The heater cuts out with a low groan, leaving the house wrapped in cold and silence. Power’s out. We’re really stuck now.
“Stella?” I call while flicking on my mobile’s torch and making my way toward the stairs.
“Rhys?” she calls back.
“I’m here.” I turn the corner, the light hitting her square in the eyes. I angle it away and grab the handrail to take the last few steps.
“Power’s out,” she says.
“Your mum got a generator?”
“Yeah, but it’s out in the shed, and if we’re in for a long power outage, we should wait to use it until we absolutely have to.”
I meet her at the bottom of the stairs, her dark hair and face a shadow in the faint glow. I don’t need to see her eyes to know she’s worried. I can feel it coming off her, jumpy as a wallaby.
“What did Danny say?” she asks.
“He’s seen the video. That’s all I heard before we got cut off.” I drop to the step and rake a hand through my hair. The weight of it all hits me hard. Probably for the best we got cut off. I’d have only dug myself in deeper.
In a weird way, it’s a relief knowing he’s seen it. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now I can focus on what comes next—damage control. Wish I could ring a solicitor, but it is what it is.
At least I’ve got Stella.
“What am I gonna do, La-La?”
She kneels in front of me, resting her hands on my knees. “We’re going to light some candles, build a fire, and make a bed in front of it, because it’s about to get really cold in here.”
I let out a low laugh. “The girl who believes in Santa decides to be practical now?”
Her smile is barely visible in the muted light. “Not entirely. I know where Mom keeps her stash of s’mores stuff. We’re camping out tonight. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do about Danny and VibeHouse and generators and whatever other problems pop up.”
I lift my gaze from her mouth to her soft eyes. She threads her fingers through my hair, then cups my face in her hands.
“I’m not falling in love with you, Rhys…”
I flinch as if I’ve been sucker punched, then straighten, ready to pull back.
“I’ve already fallen,” she adds. “And whatever comes next…we’ll get through it together.”
My brain’s still trying to process that when she kisses me. Once softly. Again, with a tug on my bottom lip. Then deep enough that instinct takes over. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against my chest. Stella loves me.
But she’s not getting away with that little stunt. I pull back and give her a look. She drops her hands from my neck, frowning slightly.
“Are you trying to break me?” I scold. “You don’t lead with ‘I’m not falling in love with you.’ You start with ‘I’ve already fallen.’”
She bites her lip. “Remember when I said give it a second? Look what happens when you do. Things turn out better than you expected.”
I deepen my glare. “So you’re teaching me a lesson now?”
“Not intentionally, but…” She shrugs, the corner of her mouth quirking.
I hook a finger through her belt loop and tug her closer. “You really love me?”
Her hands slip around my shoulders, her smile changing, warmer now, and steady. “I really do, Rhys. Like, a lot. So much more than I did when I was thirteen.”
My heart thumps in my ears, solid and loud, drowning out the wind rattling the windows. I close the distance, kiss her once, long and deep, before standing and scooping her into my arms. “And who would you rather kiss—me or my poster?”
She laughs softly, curling into my chest as I carry her to the couch. “It’s a toss-up. I’ll need more data to decide.”
“Happy to oblige.” I set her down and give Stella all the data she wants.
For once, I’m not faking it. Not on stage, not in song. Just me.