How I Became the 4th Member of a (former) All-Boy Band

I Have Some One-On-One With a Mr. Strong-n-Silent

this is for those of you that actually care where the story goes :)

and if any of the titles are too long, or if i make a mistake in my writing, or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. okay? otherwise i get a little paranoid and run around like a chicken in my room. (i don't actually, but i'm serious about the paranoia)

THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME. READ ON NOW.

 Skye’s POV:

I sat on the front steps of my house, arms crossed and eyes fixed in space. A part of me was still freaking out over that fact that I’d called Shane, of all people. Not my boyfriend, but Shane, a moody drummer boy that had the most intense eyes I knew. But the rest of me was just relieved that he’d picked up and asked no questions. Dad was in his study again. Let him panic when I was gone.

Who was I kidding; he wouldn’t notice.

I was thinking my usual shrewd thoughts when the band’s nondescript ugly-as-sin minivan rolled up. Shane got out and walked up to me. Damn, how did he make ripped jeans and a Guns ‘n’ Roses tee look so flipping amazing? I spaced out for a moment, just gaping up at him as he said something.

“Skye.” He snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Stop staring at me like a fish!”

“Glubglub.”

He sighed, sitting down next to me. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a while of staring blankly across my street.

“No.”

“Skye-----”

“Can we go? Just----not talk about anything real for a few hours? Listen to good music and pretend that we’re not fucked up teenagers living in a fucked up world for a while? Please?” I turned to looking at him, not smiling, not scowling, just tired.

He stared back, dark eyes unreadable. Slowly, he nodded. “Let’s go,” he agreed quietly, offering me a hand.

We were quiet in the car, with Hedley asking us how in the hell we got here (I wish I knew, Jacob, I wish I knew). My heart was still aching something awful for no reason at all, because that’s what hearts do apparently. But with Shane next to me taking me away, I could say that I was breathing a bit steadier.

“You hungry?”

I shrugged. “There’s a café down that street.”

We each ordered a latte and sat down in the café, drinking in silence. I was lost in my thoughts again until I felt him staring at me over the small table and I sighed. Lifting my eyes to meet his, I asked him, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Did you do it?” He didn’t even bother answering me. His expression was too serious. “Did you cut?”

“Shut up!” I hissed automatically, scanning the café. No one was paying particular attention to us, except maybe that gothic girl over there that seemed to have the googly eyes for Shane. Figured.

“Did you?” he pressed, leaning toward me.

“I--- So what? What’s it to you?”

“You promised you wouldn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. You’re the one that wanted that!”

“It’s for your own good!”

“Newsflash, it’s my body and my life! None of your business!”

“It is too!”

“Oh yeah? How?”

He glared at me. “I’m---the band and I, we’re your friends, and I--- and we care about you------”