Page 77 of From Me to You

I smiled. Lily and I had become a lot closer now, especially this past month when it was just her and me. I loved her like a sister that I never had.

She got rid of all her emo-style makeup and went for a more natural look these days, which had Mikey’s eyes locked on her the whole time. She still preferred black, but she wore some of the cutest black dresses that made her look adorable. She finally opened up to me and said that she liked Mikey, but she made me promise not to tell anyone because I was the only one whom she trusted with her secret. I felt honored. She told me that Jay could never know. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell anyone because it was her truth to tell, not mine. And even if I told Jay, he would never believe me.

“I am here,” Katy declared, and soon the whole gang crowded the kitchen as they greeted us.

Mikey’s eyes darkened as he took in Lily, but he averted his gaze so fast and went back to his usual expression. Matt watched me look at them, and he shrugged.

I guess everyone knew at this point and all had their heads stuck in denial.

“Okay, everyone, shut up!” Katy shouted, grinning widely.

I knew from the look on her face that whatever she was going to say was going to be something massive.

“So, I got a call this morning.” She jumped in glee. “Pacific White wants to meet us in L.A. next week,” she screamed.

Wow, this was big. Pacific White was THE LABEL. They represented some of the major stars in the industry. They were also the ones who signed the Crash Riders as their new act last year. This was going to be a monumental step in the guy’s career.

“Did they say what it was about?” Jay asked Katy.

She shook her head. “No, I obviously tried to ask, but the man who spoke to me—Dennis was his name—told me he was an assistant and was calling in for Mr. Dorian White himself. He told me Mr. White wanted to talk to us in person. I have a very good feeling about this, Emmie.”

Jay nodded. “He is the executive producer. It must be something big if they are calling us. But let’s not get our hopes up.”

“You are a buzzkill, asshole,” Mikey chided.

Jay rolled his eyes. “It’s time for practice. Nothing changes.” He kissed my cheek. “I will see you after practice,” he mumbled as he called out to the rest of them. “Come on, fuckers.”

The rest of the band, especially Mikey, groaned as they made their way to the garage. Jay was really hard on them sometimes, but he was very dedicated and really loved his band. They were after all, literally, his brothers.

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I returned home to work on my essay for school that was due next week. I was almost done with it—I just had some editing left. I thought I might as well get it done with and put it away. Mostly, it was to keep me distracted from the fact that I hadn’t heard back from Yale.

I applied almost five months ago and rewrote my essay about seven times before it was good enough. Mr. Brown helped mea lot, God—he even gave me the best letter of recommendation, and my grades were really good this year. But it was Yale who knew how they really selected an applicant.

I smiled as I recalled those days when I was writing my essay. I was so annoyed and frustrated with everyone as I tried to get it done. But my sweet boy was so supportive—he literally got me cupcakes every day and sat by my side, listening to all my complaints.

Honestly, Jay was really the best distraction a girl could ask for. But when he wasn’t here, I buried myself in writing, even the most random things. Recently, I even started walking a lot—just the previous day, I hit around seven miles, which made me very proud of myself. I hardly exercised or did anything good for my body so it felt good. I hoped I would hear back from Yale soon. At this point, I just wanted an answer—all this waiting wasn’t doing any good for my impatient brain. I also applied to a few other schools nearby and to UCLA, which I kept a secret from Jay.

Somehow, I had a feeling he would end up in L.A., and recently, that looked like it could be true. UCLA had a good writing program, and yes, I loved Yale, but writing was my dream. It didn’t really matter where I wrote it. It would make me a whole lot happier if I was closer to him. He was the main inspiration for all my writing. These days, all I wrote about was him. My diaries were filled with entries about how much I loved and missed him, and my notebook was full of random poems I created with him as my muse.

“Sweetie, I am home,” Aunty M called out as she walked through the front door.

It was around seven p.m. now, and Jay still wasn’t back. The guys had been practicing for almost five hours now. They should be done anytime soon.

“Hey Aunty M. Busy day?” I asked as I took the chicken enchiladas that I had made out of the oven. I had also made some red velvet brownies that Jay loved.

My editing went by faster than I had anticipated, so I went for a walk because I had a lot of time to kill. I didn’t like to disturb Jay whenever he was at practice because he did get distracted and cut short on them.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad! Are those chicken enchiladas? They smell so good, sweetie. I can’t wait to dig in,” she exclaimed.

“I hope you enjoy, Aunty M.” I smiled at her. “Is Liam still coming to pick you up later?”

“Yes.” She beamed, and then her expression turned serious. “I want to talk to you about something, Evy.”

I swallowed, worrying it was going to be something bad.

She bit her lip as she fidgeted with her hands. “Um, you know Liam has asked us to move in with him. He said they have a job opening at the hospital he works at. And that it would be a good fit for me.”