TRACK #1 MUSIC:

🎵 "My December" - Linkin Park

🎵 "Losing My Religion" - R. E. M.

🎵 "Morning Glory" - Oasis

🎵 "Down with the Sickness" - Disturbed

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TRACK #1 - WINTER

"My December" - Linkin Park

The alarm clock blared, and I snapped to sitting, catching my breath and clutching the soft purple comforter beneath me. It hadn't mattered that the cold air had ushered in December, complete with the smell of snow; I was drenched in my own sweat.

It was happening again. The disjointed dreams that plagued my mind almost every night since Homecoming. Two months had passed, but no matter what I did, the images wouldn't stop– red Solo cups, paper plates, hands pressing deep into my shoulders... the menacing grin.

I knew what had happened to me, but I still didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle that was that awful night. Sometimes, I believed that was a good thing. My mind, however, thought otherwise, and constantly tormented me with sporadic images. I found myself afraid to fall asleep, and it began to show in the huge bags beneath my eyes. I took a deep, steadying breath before trading my bed for the shower. Every morning I attempted to wash off the filth that clung to my body. Yet, it didn't matter how many times I showered; I never felt clean.

I sighed as I threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. I was agitated. I felt like if I could just go back to that night, if I could just remember everything that happened, then maybe I could fix this. Maybe there was still hope for my brain to regain some sense of normalcy instead of replaying the skipping mixtape in my head. Maybe if I could get all of my memories back, then maybe, just maybe, I could feel like myself again.

My eyes caught movement outside of my bedroom window, and I saw that my neighbor was hanging decorations on his house. With winter just around the corner, everyone seemed to be getting into the holiday spirit. Everyone, that is, except for me. I had managed to avoid Brock since the incident, save the fleeting, taunting glances he ridiculed me with in the school hallways. He would make sure I saw how happy he was when we did pass each other– always smiling and high fiving his sleazeball comrades. My stomach turned every time I faced him. I had no proof of what he did, but I knew he didn't deserve to be happy.

Everyone just assumed our fling ended, and I let people think what they wanted. No one cared anymore, anyways, not now that the crown royalty of Bridgeview, Brock and Brittany, were parading around the school in a constant state of disgusting togetherness. The sight of it always brought bile to the base of my throat, so I did my best to never look.

While I gathered some of my belongings to shove in my bookbag, my eyes landed on a recent picture of the friend group that sat on my dresser. And there he was. Noah. Sweet, sweet Noah. I wasn't sure what to say to him. I couldn't tell him my suspicions. If he knew that I had been with someone in that way, would he ever look at me the same? I couldn't risk it. Not now, not with Brock's threats. No, I couldn't tell anyone else. I could only talk to Emma, and that was okay for now. I was just glad I wasn't going to have to figure out everything on my own.

I rarely wanted to talk to anyone, though my friends never gave me a choice. Even though they knew I wasn't myself, they continued to surround me, trying to pull me through by proximity alone. At any point they tried forcing me to open up more, Emma was there to offer excuses in my defense. I also began running again regularly. Sometimes multiple times a day. It helped me to think clearly.

I probably should have gone for one this morning to try to erase last night's nightmare. I shut the front door and was immediately hit with a rush of a cold breeze that caused every tiny hair on my body to stand. Then again, maybe not. I glanced around to see that the sky was gray, and a dull haze sat over Bridgeview. I drove from the city to meet Emma at her home in the suburbs, whizzing past rows of bare trees touched with kisses of leftover snow. It was cold, almost bone-chillingly so, and it reminded me that the winters in Bridgeview didn't care about your feelings. They were brutal.

I pulled a gray beanie down over my ears before pulling into Emma's empty driveway, noting her father's absent car. I snuggled into my black down coat and pulled a pair of gray gloves over my frigid fingers before braving the cold to retrieve a large plastic bin from my backseat. With a sigh, I hauled the heavy box up the driveway and dropped it on her front porch to knock on the door. Immediately, the door swung open.

"Why are you knocking?" Emma laughed and opened the door wider so that I could enter. "Here, let me get that!" She lifted the box with ease and carried it to the living room like it was filled with feathers. My mouth contorted reproachfully as I kicked my Doc Marten boots off and slipped my coat on a hanger in the entryway closet.

"It's polite to knock..." I trailed off absently when I joined her in the living room. Spread on the living room table was a colorful assortment of tags, markers, and stickers. Each tag was neatly labeled with shirt size and price in perfectly manicured calligraphy. "Uh, Emma... Isn't this a little extra?" I snorted, staring down with only slight amusement. If there were ever a clear metaphor for Emma, this was probably it.

She shrugged casually. "I've been up all night." She began unloading t-shirts from the bin Noah and Elijah had transferred to my car after school yesterday. She frowned at the heap of fabric. "Can you start sorting by size? They're all over the place."

I began doing as was instructed. "Were you fighting with Adrian again?" I frowned, knowing they had been arguing on and off lately, but not entirely sure why they were. She nodded wordlessly. "Is he coming today?"

She shook her head. "Hockey," was her one-word response. I didn't press her further.

We worked in a comfortable silence sorting, folding, and tagging at least fifty shirts. "These look so good, Emma. You did such a great job on the artwork." I admired the black shirts with stark white lettering that read RESIDENT GRACE in bold letters. The "T" was made to look like a wooden cross with chains thread throughout the rest of the letters. It was the epitome of a Christian Rock design if I had ever seen one.

"There are still a few things I wish would have turned out better, but... thanks!" She put some pep in her tone as we carefully reloaded the shirts, keeping two out for ourselves. "Why don't we go get ourselves together? A little makeup always makes me feel better." Grabbing both of our shirts, she led me upstairs to her room.

"So, I packed some snacks for us today. Made sure to include plenty of Diet Coke for you!" She looked me over in the light of her bedroom. I knew she was appraising my mental state for the day. Ever since the incident, Emma had become even more protective of me– checking in on me several times a day, always anticipating my needs, and letting me know she was there if I needed to talk. I didn't mind it. In fact, it was a welcome gesture each time, especially because most of the time, it was nice to have the reminder. I sometimes still felt like I was floating along in life, unable to anchor to anything real. Emma was my real.

"Thank you," I smiled as I took my shirt from her and slipped it on. It was a size small, but still slightly baggy on my frame.

"How is your room this clean right now?" I laughed, eyeing it in the daylight, which I didn't often do since we usually hung out at night. Emma's room was painted a pale blue with stark white trim. Traditional cherry hardwood furniture lined the walls around a large, four-poster bed. A handmade quilt with matching shams lay neatly on her bed. Photos lined the mirror attached to her dresser, and I stood in front of them, studying each one.

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Stress cleaning," she hesitantly confessed while she pulled her own shirt over her head and adjusted it in the mirror. I found her eyes and gave her an apologetic look, but she waved me off like it was nothing. She was going to tell me about her and Adrian soon, right?

I started to explore the pictures again to try to find a change of topic. "Oh, this picture is so cute!" I squealed, pointing to a photo of a very little Emma and her mother, who were both engaged in painting. Little Emma had paint all over her face. Their matching blonde hair shined as big as their smiles. "You look just like her."

"That's my favorite picture of us," she admitted happily. Her eyes scanned the photo before landing on her mother's face, and her demeanor slowly changed. "It was taken not long before she disappeared."

My heart sank. Way to pick the perfect topic change, Aria. I silently cursed myself as I recalled her story. Emma never really spoke about her mother much, but she had explained to me how her mother had left for an annual girls' weekend with her best friend. Except that she never made it there. And she never made it home. The police never found her either, which meant that she never really got any type of closure. Yep. This was the perfect topic change.

"It's okay, Aria," she said kindly to me when she noticed how I was internally kicking myself. "Sometimes I just wish she were still here. For obvious reasons, sure. But mostly because there are days that I could really use her advice."

I thought of my parents and how lucky I was to have them both in my life. A vision of my father popped into my head, causing me to swallow hard.

When Emma spoke again, she held a genuine smile. "The picture below it was technically the first time Elijah and I met." I turned back around to see a barely-older-than-one Elijah holding a tiny gray teddy bear up to a brand-new-baby Emma. It made me smile.

"My parents and the Walkers have been friends forever," she continued as my eyes slowly scanned over the pictures of Emma, her father, and her brother, Bryce, at various places with the Walker family. "The Walkers... well, they opened their whole lives to us, especially after what happened to my mom. Any family functions they had, we were there. Weekend getaways, we were there. Mrs. Walker used to watch me and my brother before and after school for years. She kind of stepped into the mom role for us. She taught us how to cook, bake, and clean, all of which my dad sucks at." She smirked as the memories washed over her.

Emma guided me over to a brightly decorated bulletin board that was littered with pictures of her and Elijah throughout the different stages of their lives. "My dad told me that I used to follow Elijah everywhere, like his shadow. Apparently I would grab him by his pant leg or hold onto the back of his shirt when we were little. Even back then he was so kind." She pointed to a picture where she couldn't have been more than six or seven, with a huge knot on her forehead from when Elijah tried teaching her how to play football. "He hit me square in the face," she laughed. "To be fair, I had no idea how to catch the ball. He tried kissing it better. Our parents still tease us that it was our first kiss." It looked like there was nothing that the two of them didn't do together. And in every single picture on there, her eyes held a special sparkle that seemed to have only been for him. "I would play with Noah, don't get me wrong. But it was like I was always drawn to Elij–"

She unexpectedly stopped as she approached another overly decorated board of pictures of her and Adrian. There were old movie ticket stubs, notes, wristbands to different places, and almost as many hearts as there were pictures. I watched her eyes scan over each and every thing, and a look of sadness washed over her.

I bit my bottom lip and decided that I had to say something. "You know," I began softly, breaking the silence as I gently turned her towards me. "Just because your mom isn't here, it doesn't mean that you don't have someone to ask for advice." I watched her eyes begin to water.

"We do not have to talk about this, Aria. You have so much on your plate right now, and–"

"Emma." I looked at her pointedly. "Let me be the friend to you that you have been to me." A single tear ran down her cheek, and she blinked repeatedly to try to stop more from coming. "What's going on with you and Adrian?"

She let out a huge sigh and gestured for us to sit down on her bed. I patiently waited for her to choose her words while she wiped her eyes. "Okay... so, you know that Adrian and Elijah are cousins. But what I don't think you know is that Adrian only moved to Bridgeview right before our freshman year. His family bought and completely restored Bridgeview's ice skating rink, and helped to reestablish interest in the high school hockey team. I had obviously seen Adrian over the years at the Walker family gatherings, but it wasn't until this past summer that we started dating." Okay, that made sense. "And it wasn't until recently that I realized that I may have feelings for Elijah, too."

She locked eyes with me, trying to gauge my reaction. My eyes widened, and I let out a puff of breath. "That's... oh, boy..."

"Yeah," she agreed. "It doesn't matter, though, because Elijah will only ever see me as that little girl from the photos." What? No way. Did she not see the way he looked at her? I wanted to say something, anything, really– "We've been best friends forever, and I don't want something that I'm not one-hundred percent sure is real, or reciprocated for that matter, to ruin that. I won't let it."

I didn't know if it was my place to say how I thought Elijah felt about her. So, I tried another approach. "What about Adrian? Do you still like him?" I asked, not really sure of the answer.

"That's the hard part. I really, really do. He's sweet, smart, funny, caring, and thoughtful. Not a bad kisser either," she added the last part with a giggle. "Everything you could want in a guy. But..." I could tell she was searching for the right words.

"But he's not Elijah?" I offered, knowing that's what she wanted to say, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

"No, he's not," she confirmed with a heavy sigh. "That being said, I can't just break up with Adrian to try things with Elijah. That's a lot to risk for a 'what-if.' Shouldn't I just stay where I know I will be happy?"

How to answer this one. "Well, if Adrian makes you happy, then I say stay with Adrian. But you also have to be fair to him. You shouldn't string him along if you're not fully into him," I offered gently.

Emma agreed. "Thank you, Aria. For your advice, for letting me vent, for everything."

"Of course." I smiled at her, and she returned it with one of her own. She knew she still had a lot of figuring out to do.

"Okay, enough tears over boys. We are going to give each other makeovers so that we are the hottest little groupies in the joint. The boys won't know what hit 'em!"

"Uh–" I began to interject.

"Nope. This is all part of our coping processes. Trust me!"

I had to admit that when Emma was through with her process of making me over, I looked a little bit more like my old self. And despite the odds, I even felt a little better, too. So when we got into our cold weather gear and loaded the t-shirts into my car, I felt more confident about the day. It was time to meet up with Resident Grace for their very first public show.

The Den was an old, dimly-lit concert venue with standing room only. The floors were a dingy concrete that led to a wide, darkened lobby. Merchandise booths lined the area as people shuffled to display their wares. Emma and I found the table labeled "RESIDENT GRACE" and got to work. We neatly featured all of the promotional items, limited currently to t-shirts, photos, and the poorly packed EP that the band recorded in my basement. When we stood back to admire our handiwork, Emma eyed me with her usual contented grin before jumping up and down in excitement and throwing her arms around me.

"Fancy meeting you here." I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see my father clutching a walking cane, steadied by the arm of my mom. A lump caught in my throat as the bitter realization of his condition once again hit me like a ton of bricks. The frailty, the instability, and the dull gray tint on his skin reminded me that he was still sick.

"Papa!" I gathered up all the excitement I could and pulled him into a warm hug. "Aren't you a little early? I thought the judges didn't have to be here until later."

"We wanted to get out of the house and explore a bit before settling in. It looks like you girls did a nice job with this setup. Emma, that design is just beautiful!" My father picked up a t-shirt and examined it closely. "I'll be back to get one after the show. Make sure you save one for me!" Although the lines around his eyes showed his age, his smile showed his heart. Even sick, his spirit wouldn't waver.

"Will do, Mr. G," Emma responded delightfully while she busied herself tidying up the area even more than it needed.

People were beginning to enter all around us and were already crowding the stage, squeezing in to get the best spot to see the show. Through the crowd of bodies, I spotted Noah entering with Zach and Carly. He twirled a drumstick effortlessly as he chatted and stopped to laugh at something a little too loud. The edges of my lips curled up while I watched him approach us.

"Ahhh... this looks so official!" Noah beamed and walked around the table, admiring the setup. We even had a vinyl sign with their logo printed and hung. "I can't believe we're finally doing this. Zach! Zach! Do you see this?" Noah was smacking his arm excitedly as Zach stood transfixed. They were clearly impressed with our effort.

Elijah and Will filed in a few paces behind them and rendered a similar reaction. It took Elijah no time to slip behind the table and hug Emma a few more seconds than seemed polite. I watched while Emma's eyes closed, a satisfied smile spread about her lips.

I swallowed hard when Zach approached me next, arms outstretched to thank me in a hug as well. I winced when he touched me, the pit of my stomach dropping at the harmless gesture. A shiver ran down my spine and I clenched my teeth as I waited for it to end. When Zach broke the hug and gave me a small smile, I mustered a respectful one in return. As soon as he backed away, I realized I could breathe again, and that in no way was a normal reaction to being hugged.

"You both have truly outdone yourselves, and we cannot thank you enough," Elijah said gratefully. Zach, Will, and Noah nodded in agreement, murmuring their own thanks as well. People began inspecting the table, and the band left to get ready. Carly stood staring at us for a moment, awkwardly shifting on her heels.

"Would you like to help us?" Emma asked cordially. Carly had never been very talkative with us, but it seemed like a good chance to get to know her better.

She smiled and tilted her head slightly, her hair cascading to her mid-back. "Oh, sure. I was just waiting for Quinn to get here, but I'd be happy to help if you need it." Carly was petite with dark hair and dark eyes. Her kind demeanor made her seem like the type of girl I might like to be friends with. We busied ourselves greeting buyers, selling a few items here and there (mostly due to Emma's amazing design), and chatting with each other.

"Hello everyone and welcome to WPX 102.5's High School Rock 'n Roll Showcase!" The crowd cheered as the popular radio personality, DJ Killer Kaden, stood on stage to start the show. "This is that magical time of year when local bands with members who are between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one show off what they got in an effort to gain a coveted slot in our spring Battle of the Bands!" Again, the crowd roared at this announcement. "Please welcome our panel of esteemed local judges. First up, from WPX sister station, everyone's favorite meteorologist, Alexa Allen!" She stood and waved to the crowd. "Next, everyone's favorite night DJ spinning all of your favorite rock anthems, Pierre Lecroix!" He followed suit. "Finally, Grammy-award winning musician from the gifted group Phantastic Phunk... Please put your hands together for Leo Gray!" Emma and I both screamed extra loud for my father as he took his turn to stand and wave.

"Okay everyone, here are the rules. Each band gets one cover song to impress our judges. Each judge will score the band on a scale from one to ten on categories such as musical technicality, vocal prowess, crowd interaction, stage presence, and showmanship. We have ten bands competing today for the ultimate prize. At this time, we'll need to have all of our musicians report backstage. The show starts in five!"

"I'm going to hit the restroom real quick!" I gave Emma's arm a quick pat since she was assisting a customer. She nodded at me while continuing to give the buyer her most convincing customer service smile. For her, it was easy.

I found my way to a dimly lit corridor lined with brightly colored band posters. People stood in queues, chatting absently while they waited for the lines to move. I silently inspected the poster nearest me when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and immediately jumped when I saw the owner. A smiling Brock Miller stood over me with a hazy expression, pupils dilated so wide the green in his eyes was almost gone. He was wearing a muscle t-shirt with his band's name, No Light, on the front.

"Aria Gray," he said smoothly, alcohol radiating from his breath. I wanted to scream, but my throat was raw. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. "What, you aren't excited to see me? It's been a while, huh? You look... so good, as usual. You're just wearing the wrong shirt." He started to lift the hem of his t-shirt to reveal his cut lower abdomen. "Maybe you could take mine? I know how much you enjoy the feeling of my clothing on your skin."

I swallowed hard. The line began moving forward, and I took that as my cue to evade him. I cut in front of three people to make my way into the restroom. I pretended to check my makeup in one of the mirrors so as to not appear rude. Through the reflection, I could see the door open and close every time someone would enter or exit. Each time, I would catch a glimpse of Brock's figure in the hall. My breathing hitched, so I closed my eyes to try to gather myself. When I opened them, he was gone.

A feeling of total numbness washed over my body while I made my way back to the table. Emma's eyes met mine, then a look of concern filled her face. My legs were weak and I shivered involuntarily. Backing myself against the wall, I slid down to a sitting position and held my knees to my chest. Music blared through the venue, a sign that the show had begun. "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M. filled every crevice of my body as I struggled to hold in tears.

"What's wrong?" Emma whispered when she knelt down beside me.

"Brock. He's here..." I croaked. An idle tear fell down my cheek.

"Where? I'll kill him," Emma stated matter-of-factly. Her vitriol only caused me to smile.

"It's... it's okay. I just need a minute. I wasn't expecting to run into him, and I certainly wasn't expecting him to... talk to me." Another wave of nausea filled my belly. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead, and I saw his grin once more behind my eyes. My heart rate spiked. No. Not here. Not now.

"Are you not feeling well?" Carly chimed in, trying to offer some assistance.

"She's okay," Emma kindly responded for me, bringing me back to my surroundings. "Would you mind hanging at the table? We just need a minute."

Carly nodded, and Emma handed me a water bottle. I immediately took a few sips, savoring the feeling of having the cold run down my throat and spread throughout my body. She swept my hair to the side and held another bottle to the back of my neck. Slowly, I felt like I could breathe again.

"Good?" she asked, and I nodded in reassurance. She helped me to my feet and eyed me suspiciously. "You're allowed to stand, but you will keep drinking that water, and you will take a five minute break so that I can make sure you feel well enough to keep going." I snorted before a smile broke across my face. Okay, Mom.

DJ Killer Kaden came back onto the stage with his voice resonating through the microphone. "Alright, everyone, you're in for a real treat today since we're bringing out our first band from Bridgeview... please give it up for Resident Grace!" Emma and I immediately lit up and turned as Noah, Elijah, Zach, and Will took the stage. I barked a laugh when Emma tossed a "Back in 5 Minutes!" sign onto our table and pulled both Carly and me into the crowd. Seemed like we were all taking that five.

"How is everyone doing tonight?" Elijah yelled into the microphone, channeling his youth worship leader skills for today's performance. Everyone cheered as he spoke. "Thank you for having us today! Here we go!" Screeching feedback rang over the crowd from his guitar while he led the band into the raunchy opening riff to Oasis' "Morning Glory." Noah and Zach came next, followed by Will. Elijah stepped up to the microphone, and I held my breath, hoping he'd be loud enough.

When his voice rang smoothly throughout the venue, I briefly closed my eyes and smiled victoriously. Zach bounced around on the bass, stepping up to the audience to encourage them to sing along. Their energy was infectious. By the time they began the first chorus, Emma and I were jumping up and down with our hands in the air. I could not help myself as I loudly sang along.

Every facet of the band was flawless– Noah was right on the beat, and Zach revved up the on-stage presence by intermittently aiming his guitar down at the audience to get them to scream. Elijah's voice was impeccable, so were his guitar trills while he played his solo at the bridge; and Will's energy was electric as he jumped up and down at his keyboard, bobbing his head along while he played. Their band was the only one with a keyboardist at all, giving them an edge in originality. I snuck another peak at my father and noticed his head moving with the beat. The crowd erupted when the last few notes continued to reverberate through the speakers, Emma and I screaming along with everyone as the band finished.

We bounced back to the merchandise table, completely refreshed by their performance. Quinn was waiting at the table when we returned. Even months after hanging out in the same group, she still grimaced when I approached.

"Thanks for taking over. Weren't they great?!" Emma beamed. Since it was a small venue, I was certain it would have been easy to see the stage from our perch.

"They were the best!" Carly answered for Quinn while clapping again, obviously as invigorated by the performance as we were. She took in Quinn's look of annoyance and stopped immediately. "Hey, uh, is it cool if we go grab some food? We'll come back." Carly seemed much more at ease with us now, which I was grateful for.

"Of course," Emma spoke for the both of us, which I was also grateful for– because I couldn't respond while I was trying to figure out why Quinn kept giving me the hairy eyeball.

DJ Killer Kaden returned to the stage as he held his microphone in front of his lips. "Please help me welcome our previous winners from Bridgeview.... No Light!"

Previous winners?! My head snapped back towards the direction of the stage, and I watched as the drummer of Brock's band began the very familiar and popular opening to "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed. Their vocalist growled the opening lines into the microphone while the song picked up. When he yelled, "Oooh, ah– ah– ah– ah!" the crowd went wild. As much as I hated to admit it, even I couldn't deny how well they played together and how great the vocalist sounded. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that the bass guitarist, none other than the incredibly charming Liam O'Brien, was just a fraction of a second off the beat. I looked at my father to try to study his face while he judged and could see his eyes zero in on Liam, obviously hearing the same thing. Brock was unsurprisingly smooth on-stage with an electric guitar, playing into the audience to the screams of many girls who had no idea what a horrible human being he truly was.

I scrunched my face in disgust. "They have groupies."

"They play shows regularly in the area," Emma supplied. That explained why they had a following. "But I didn't hear anything about them entering into this year's competition..." she trailed off as the singer of Brock's band screamed a PG-version of the bridge into the microphone. I was impressed at how well he was able to switch between screaming and his smooth tenor. I was, however, unimpressed at how little he interacted with the crowd. The song ended, but neither Emma nor I clapped. Even though the band was fine, I was far from enthused.

After a few more offerings, there was a short intermission for the judges to convene. Emma and I greeted more people as they bought some of the merchandise. I absentmindedly commented on how it would have been nice to have had extra help once more.

"Yeah," she scoffed before handing someone their change with a pleasant smile. "Looks like Carly and squirrel girl aren't coming back."

"Emma!" I laughed at her nickname for Quinn. It wasn't like her to call anyone a name.

"Hey, she started it," Emma reasoned like that was a perfectly good excuse, handing another person a copy of an EP, a shirt, and their change. "We tried to be nice, and she just sucks. Besides, I can't change the fact that she looks like a squirrel." I continued to laugh.

It was then that intermission ended, and DJ Killer Kaden reappeared.

"It's time for our winners! In third place, please give it up for Enemy Killers!" Everyone cheered as a five-piece band walked on stage to greet the DJ and wave. They stood to the side as DJ Killer Kaden brought the microphone to his lips once again, "In second place, let me hear you cheer for Lies of Neptune!" I recognized the band as the first act that did the R.E.M. cover. I cheered for them, but held my breath as there could only be one first place winner. "And finally, in first place... for two years in a row... we have another winner from Bridgeview! Congratulations to Resident Grace, our new High School Rock 'n Roll Showcase champions!" I felt my heart soar as the four boys ran onstage to an explosion of cheering. Of course, Emma and I were the loudest. "We look forward to hearing our new champs soon at this spring's Battle of the Bands hosted by 102.5 WPX! I'm Killer Kaden in the Mornings, and thanks again to all of our judges for being here with us. We hope to see you all next time!" Music played overhead and faded out as the show ended.

Noah, Elijah, Will, and Zach were held onstage for several minutes, posing for photographs with the DJs and the judges while several people stood in groups waiting to congratulate them. The rest began filing out, and Emma and I took the opportunity to pack up the remaining merchandise. With that taken care of, we headed towards the stage to stand near one of the large speakers to watch our boys have their moment.

"Mr. and Mrs. Walker!" Emma beamed when she realized the Walkers were standing beside us.

"Emma and Aria! Nice to see you here supporting the boys. That merchandise table looked so professional. How great were they?!" Mrs. Walker radiated love as she spoke proudly, and Mr. Walker wordlessly grinned while holding up his own Resident Grace t-shirt. "They have been working on this for years. Aria, remind me to thank your dad later for accepting that twenty-dollar bill I slipped him." She winked at me jokingly, which made both Emma and me laugh.

The boys finally stepped down from the stage to a crowd of people pulling them in every direction. Cheering, hugs, and smiles poured over our boys while everyone congratulated the band. Emma pushed her way through them to get to Elijah, who held her tightly even when others tried to get a chance to applaud him. I stood in the back quietly, smiling at my parents who joined me, though they immediately struck up a conversation with the Walkers. I watched as Noah's eyes searched the crowd surrounding him. He stepped through people who were still waiting to see him, tossing out his thanks as he continued to look around. A moment later, our eyes locked, and a smile spread across his face. He ran up to me, grabbing me right above my knees and hoisting me into the air to spin me around. I wrapped my hands around his neck tightly and giggled while he spun me a few times. I could feel everyone looking at us as we continued this display, but I didn't care. I was elated for him.

That is, until I realized there were a pair of eyes on me that penetrated my soul. Over Noah's shoulder, I could see Brock staring at us with fire in his eyes, his lips tightened in a fine line. My smile faded as my throat tightened.

"We wooonnn!!" Noah yelled, setting me down, but keeping me in a hug. "That was incredible. I wish I could do that every day for the rest of my life. I can't believe we actually won!" He beamed until he looked down at me, then his eyes searched mine. "Aria, are you okay?" His eyebrows knitted together as he put a hand over mine. I was gripping his forearm so tightly that it left an imprint of my fingers.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine." I shook my head to snap out of it while I slowly let go. "You guys deserved it," I said with finality. "You were definitely the best."

"Thanks. Must have been all that coaching you gave us." Noah grinned once more before he heard his name being called. "Oh, my parents are here!" He turned to hug them both, then greeted my father with a handshake and my mom with a hug. The four of them talked for a few minutes while I zoned out, my glance hovering near Brock's group once more. In mere seconds, Brock's gaze met mine, and he narrowed his eyes in anger. I was paralyzed. Because in the instant our eyes locked, I knew that not only was he mad with me, he was mad at Noah, too. I saw hatred burning in Brock's eyes as he glanced from Noah back to me. And that made me scared for Noah in a way I never knew that I could be.

I could barely hear anything over my own pounding heartbeat. "....celebration tonight in our garage..." came through muffled. "...will you both join us?" Elijah asked when he approached us again, effectively breaking my stupor. I looked at Emma for confirmation, but we nodded, her more enthusiastically than I. "Excellent." He hugged both Emma and me goodbye. We said our farewells to the others and then left the venue with only a quarter of the merchandise unsold.

Emma noticed my apprehension as we loaded the car and held her hand out to me. "Why don't I drive home? You could use a few minutes to rest." I didn't protest and simply handed the keys over.

I stared out the window on our way home, thoughts washing over my brain while the bare trees passed in a haze. Brock's reaction to mine and Noah's exchange replayed in my mind. It had screamed of pure hatred, the kind that can only stem from a sick form of jealousy. But what caught me off-guard the most was my response. I had been terrified of how Brock reacted, because I knew he had a reason to be jealous.

I took a deep breath and turned to face Emma, whose gaze was fixed upon the road. "I..." I began, unsure of my own words. Was I really about to say this out loud?

"What's up?" Emma responded casually, though I knew she could feel my hesitation.

"I'm not ready to date, and I don't think anything will come of it any time soon, but..." I was starting to regret bringing it up, but I needed to get it out. I needed to say it. "I think I have feelings for Noah. I think I have for a long time."

"I know," Emma smiled warmly. Of course she did.

My eyes widened. "Do you think he knows?"

"No," she laughed. "But I know he's into you, too. He looks at you like you're the only one in the room."

"I don't want to get into anything I don't feel ready for, but when I'm around him... I just want to be with him." My heart ached as silence hung in the air. "I thought my feelings for Brock were real, you know? The more I am with Noah, the more I realized they never were. I liked the attention. I liked how Brock looked, not how he made me feel. Noah makes me feel like I matter."

"Good," Emma said just as we pulled into the Walkers' driveaway for the after-show festivities. "Because you do. Now, let's have ourselves a good time at this party, okay?"

It was a good thing that Emma was so enthusiastic because when I could feel myself start to shake, Emma took my hand and pulled me towards the garage. Since the last party I attended left me with literal nightmares, I kept trying to remind myself that this wasn't an L.J. party and these people were actually my friends. Cars were lined sloppily along the curb, and as the door opened, it became increasingly difficult to maneuver around the hordes of people who were crammed into every crevice of the small space.

"I thought they said little celebration," I muttered absently in Emma's direction while we waded through the crowd. Music blared from one of the guitar amplifiers as people danced, laughed, and drank what I assumed was soda out of red Solo cups. The Walkers didn't throw wild parties, right? Not in their parents' garage. I could feel my pulse start to quicken, and my breathing began to hitch.

"Helloooo, Aria and Emma!" Will was the first to find us and greeted us with a tad more zeal than usual. I knew everyone was excited about the win, but was everyone drinking, too? I couldn't tell. When he leaned in to give me an uncharacteristically tight hug, I braced myself, thinking I might smell alcohol like I had on Brock earlier in the day, but all I could smell was admittedly pleasant cologne.

Relief instantly washed over me. "Hey!" I replied to match his level of excitement as he reached to give Emma a hug as well. She turned to give me a stern nod of her head, like she was willing me to go find Noah, so I looked the other way and pretended I didn't notice. I was too nervous. Instead, I grabbed Will's arm and walked with him towards the lounge area where a large table with pizzas, soda, and red cups were set up. There was no sign of alcohol. I grabbed a cup and began filling it with Diet Coke when I spotted Noah by the door, arms over his chest, laughing casually at something a very doting Quinn was saying. My heart sank.

"Aria?" Will's voice broke my train of thought. I quickly moved my gaze towards him, trying to search my brain for what he might have said. News flash: I remembered nothing. All of a sudden, the fizz from my soda began dripping off the side of the table and all over the floor. Will sprang into action, grabbing a fistful of napkins to start blotting my mess.

"I'm so sorry," I offered with a sigh as we began to draw eyes from the crowd. My stomach clenched.

Will shrugged before throwing the wet napkins in a large black trash can. "No sweat. Are you all good? You seem distracted."

Trying to casually locate a now-absent Noah in my peripheral vision without seeming obvious, I mustered a small nod in Will's direction before dabbing a spot of soda on my jeans. "I'm just going to get some air real quick, okay? Be right back." I grabbed what was left of my soda and pivoted on my heel to take a breather. It was far too crowded in that little garage.

The air outside was crisp and the moon was bright. I shivered slightly, regretting not having brought my coat with me while I took a sip of my drink. Narrowing my eyes, I spotted two silhouettes at the base of a nearby tree. One was tall, thin, and stood with crossed arms and one leg bent upon the bark. Noah. The other was short, broad, and had the outline of glasses on their face. Quinn. I stood watching for only two blinks before Quinn leaned in and pressed her lips against Noah's.

Wait. What was going on? I allowed myself to stare for only a moment more to see that Noah didn't pull away, then I turned back into the crowd. I immediately felt sick. I had to find Emma. I had to leave. Now.

My heart raced as I pushed through bodies, pressing an angry open palm against one too many shoulders before I found her. A male's voice was calling my name over the crowd, but I ignored it.

"We have to go," I told her urgently. I could feel my chest tighten, my stomach drop, and my eyes fill with tears. They were coming, and I couldn't stop them.

Emma's face became concerned. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"We have to go. Please," I choked while an idle tear fell. Emma nodded and grabbed our coats as we shuffled back through the crowd to head to the car.

"Aria, wait!" Noah finally caught up to us in the driveway just before I was about to enter the passenger's side seat. "That's not what it looked like." He searched my face while Emma took her cue and slipped inside of the car, shutting the door and turning on the ignition.

Noah stood before me, shivering, hands rubbing his upper arms for warmth. "Can we discuss what happened? Please?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. Noah's face fell.

"I know you saw that and I just... I wanted to explain," Noah implored.

I shook my head. "There's nothing to explain, Noah. You don't owe me anything." I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold it in anymore. The anxiety of the party, the memory of Brock's evil glares as I held Noah earlier in the day. It was all too much and I needed to get away.

"That's... not," Noah began, but couldn't find words.

"Congratulations on the win. I'll see you at school," I choked out softly before getting into the car. I slammed my back into the passenger's seat behind me as Emma pulled out. I bent forward, cupping my face in my hands. Tears streamed down my cheeks while my own sobs filled my ears. Emma's steady hand rested on my back.

"What happened?" she repeated. I wasn't even sure I could speak, but I tried.

"Noah and Quinn," I stammered.

Emma let out a noise of disgust. "Quinn? No way. Noah doesn't like Quinn. Are you sure that's what you saw? It was dark out, wasn't it?"

I nodded solemnly. "I'm sure."

The ride home was silent. Emma didn't pry. I could barely process what had just happened, let alone talk about it. When we pulled into my driveway, I couldn't even speak to thank Emma for driving. I went inside, ran up to my room, and buried myself beneath the covers to let out all of my overwhelming disappointment. Emma silently followed behind and sat down next to me, rubbing small circles on my back. Neither one of us knew what to say or what to do. We just knew that we were apparently not done crying over boys.

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