“But I need it.”
CHAPTER 3
PHOENIX
If someone told me Lennon Michael would be the key to my freedom, I would have asked them to pass me the good shit they were smoking.
Despite attending the same school for the past four years, I’ve never talked to the girl. Hell, I don’t think anyone talks to the girl.
They’re too fucking busy talking about her.
I’m not blind, Lennon isn’t skinny by any means. Ergo her appearance doesn’t warrant any interest or attention from guys. The chicks at this school, though. They’re like flies on shit. Especially Sabrina.
That girl practically makes it her life’s mission to bully Lennon.
Probably because she’s jealous.
While Sabrina’s hot as hell on the outside, she’s weak as fuck on the inside. It’s painfully obvious she’s desperate for people’s approval.
Lennon’s not like that, though. While the girl doesn’t hesitate to help out others—even my ass on account of her offering to tutor me—she’s not a pushover.
I’ve never seen her so much as shed a tear from Sabrina’s—or anyone else’s insults. She takes everything in stride, like she genuinely doesn’t give a fuck what they think.
That alone is appealing.
So is her voice.
While not conventionally perfect—the hoarse, sultry tone is a slow tug on my cock. There are these tiny cracks in it that make you think her voice is going to give out, and she’s about to dive off a motherfucking cliff…but it never happens.
Her voice is as resilient as she is.
I could listen to her sing all fucking day.
Not today, though. I need to get my ass to Storm’s house so we can practice.
Our band consists of just the two of us. Me—a singer who can play the keyboard. And Storm—a drummer with skills that make him sound like the love child of John Bonham, Neil Peart, and Tommy Lee.
The latter is because he has a unique style that’s all him. It’s like every time he beats down on those things, he’s pounding out his demons.
It’s a common denominator that makes him not only my bandmate, but my best friend.
Every time I close my eyes and sing…all the bad shit just fades into the background.
When I’m lost in the music, I’m no longer Phoenix Walker. Stupid kid from a trailer park who got the shit beat out of him daily by his drunk dad and was left behind by his mother.
I’m Phoenix Walker.
The guy who’s gonna command the stage, steal every ounce of your attention, and make you drop to your knees so you can suck my motherfucking dick while I do it.
Storm and I have a plan. The second we graduate high school, we’re heading to Los Angeles so we can be discovered. If it doesn’t work out for us there, we’ll try New York.
Despite my shitty grades, I’m not a total dumbass. I’m well aware that more aspiring musicians fail than ever make it big. And while Storm and I are fully prepared to live off ramen and cohabitate with roaches for the next five years, we’re gonna need some income while we do it.
Hence, I’ll need to get a job while I’m chasing my dreams. No potential employer likes a high school dropout though, so in order to secure a semi-decent one, I’ll have to get my diploma.
Which is why I find myself in the unfortunate position of needing Lennon Michael.
I have to get the fuck out of this town—the fuck away from my father—before I end up just like him.
You’re only young once, so it’s now or fucking never.
I know I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t at least try. Even if I fail, it’s better than not trying at all.
“I’m willing to help you,” Lennon says, tearing me from my thoughts. “Let’s go back to the classroom and get started.”
I’d rather shove nails into my scrotum.
“Can’t.” I pull my car keys out of my pocket. “I have plans.”
I go to brush past her, but she steps in front of me and places her palm to my chest.
Her mouth drops open, like she’s equally insulted and shaken by my departure. “Are you serious? In case you didn’t hear me, I’m offering to help tutor you so you can graduate. We don’t have a lot of time. The sooner we get started, the better.”
I’m well aware the clock is running out. However, music takes precedence over anything and everything.
Always will.
I peer at the hand that’s still on my chest. “Move.”
Cheeks pink, she removes it and takes a few steps back. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m out.”
Christ. Leave it up to this girl to bust my fucking balls.
“I’m free tomorrow night after nine. I’ll pick you up.”
At that, she lifts a brow. “Pick me up? What? How—”
“In my car,” I interject. “Unless you wanna walk to the other side of town.” I drop my gaze, giving her body a slow, threatening perusal from head to toe. “In the dark…all by yourself.”
I’m willing to bet my left nut that Little Miss Innocent has never crossed the tracks and played with the big, bad wolves.
She’s too busy living the life of luxury on the nice side of Hillcrest in an even nicer house.
“Well, no, but—”
“Didn’t think so.”
Pushing past her, I shoulder-check her in the process. “See you tomorrow.”
“You don’t even know where I live,” she calls out behind me.
She’s wrong. I know exactly where she lives.
The big house on top of the hill on Baldwin Avenue.
Lennon isn’t the only one who’s been watching a person they’ve never spoken to over the years.
Only unlike her motives, mine are strictly business.
Her father is Don Michael. A man who’s written a couple of hit songs for a lot of great musicians.
And while I’m too proud to ask him to put a word in with his connections, I have every intention of hiring the man once I make it big.
But in order to do that, I need to graduate.
And find a way for Lennon to tutor me without discovering one of my biggest secrets.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Storm bitches as I enter his garage.
Ever since his parents abandoned him, he’s lived with his grandmother in a tiny house not too far from the trailer park.
Fortunately, the tiny house has a decent-sized garage. One his grandma let us convert into a place we could practice.
Even better? She doesn’t give a shit about all the noise we make. She’s almost fully deaf, so she just takes out her hearing aids whenever we’re jamming out.
I’m appreciative of that and the futon Storm lets me sleep on whenever things reach unbearable levels at home.
I don’t say shit as I walk over to the mic stand.
But Storm doesn’t drop it. “Fucking hell. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you to quit fucking bitches before practice?”
Too many times to count. However, that wasn’t the reason I was late today.
Sabrina sucked my dick before I met Lennon.
I turn to look at him. “I was at school…meeting my new tutor.”