THE GUYS' girl

Chapter 1

Every chapter has a boy band song that sets the vibe for what's coming. So press play and indulge in the guilty pleasure that only boy bands can bring 😍

Song vibes: Chances by Backstreet Boys 

(not gonna lie, I listen to this one on repeat)

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

I cast a pleading look at my brother to see if he'd heard me. Removing his AirPods with a huff, he confirmed my suspicion that he was using them to discourage any last minute pep talks rather than listening to music. He pointed down a long, dark corridor with at least six doors. Loud dance music boomed through the studio walls from farther down the hallway.

"Seriously, Avery? Go all the way to the end, the bathroom is the first door on the right." 

Ninety-nine percent of the time, Aiden's handsome features settled into one of two looks: a flirty smirk or a resting stink face. As his kid sister, I was always the recipient of the latter. However, each time we found ourselves back in this familiar setting, his expression always battled between concern and annoyance. 

My parents ignored our exchange. I couldn't blame them really. It wasn't like I had an actual anxiety disorder. And that we were sure of. I guess when your son is diagnosed with depression at fifteen, you get your daughter evaluated for anxiety when she pukes every time she's nervous. 

For the last three years, each time Aiden had a big audition I was the anxious little sister with a stomach full of nerves. It was my own twisted contribution to Aiden's pre-audition routine:

                     * stretch your limbs - check

                     * warm up your vocal chords - check

                     * send your Nervous Nelly of a sister to the bathroom to puke her guts out - check 

I honestly couldn't believe they still allowed me to attend his auditions with the amount of anxiety I contributed. But on the other hand, "the Taylors stick together," I heard in my mom's sing-songy voice. Which explained why we were sitting in a central Florida strip mall, hundreds of miles from home, awaiting Aiden's third and final audition for a place in a newly created boy band. 

As if reading my mind, my mom placed her book in her lap and leaned over to pat Aiden's bouncing knee in encouragement. They looked so much alike: chestnut hair, soft brown eyes and a skin tone that gave the appearance of a year-round tan. She looked up to his face with a smile but faltered when she noticed his scrunched up look in my direction. Her eyes followed his gaze and her appraisal of me confirmed exactly what I'd feared. 

I looked as awful as I felt.

"Avery, honey, are you alright? You look so pale."

"Mom, she always looks pale," Aiden teased.

We scowled at him, but in reality, we both knew a joking Aiden was a great thing before an audition. 

"Do you want me to go with you to the bathroom?" she asked.

Before I could answer, a chiming bell signaled the arrival of another family at the main entrance. We listened to the receptionist direct them around the corner to our tiny lobby. Our private bubble was about to burst. Aiden pushed his silent AirPods into his ears, his "I don't give a care" expression slipping back into place. 

"Aiden! Which door was it again?" I bolted up from my chair. Meeting another teenage boy that was competing against my brother would not be good for my nerves. Not to mention, throwing up on his shoes would not make a good impression.