Brandon's POV
The early morning sun spilled halfway through the trees in the front yard, painting the branches gold. Its reflection glimmered off the windshield of my truck, catching the edge of the skyline.
I stepped onto the porch, feeling brand new—but not exactly fresh. Still, something had shifted. There was energy buzzing through me. I was enthusiastic. Focused. Eager to get to school.
The SoundForge stage was up for grabs.
I wasn't going to blow it this time with feelings I had no business having.
Everything was mapped out. Meet up with the guys. Talk to Mr. Pat—our ride-or-die mentor who never stopped rooting for us.
I could see it: the biggest stage in London. I smiled at the thought. It had always been the dream. For once, hope didn't feel stupid. It felt real. Joy thumped against my ribs like a drumbeat in a school musical.
I jumped out of bed and started dancing on impulse to that faint melody playing in my head—one of mine, probably. It had been looping there for days.
In the bathroom, I grabbed my toothbrush and smeared on the paste without breaking rhythm. Still moving to the beat, humming each word. I admired my reflection—shoulders broad, eyes catchy, mood... Perfect.
The last few weeks had been heavy. Waking up used to feel like a hard job. But today? Today felt like a purpose.
I picked out my outfit like it mattered. Because it did. I wanted to look how I felt—driven, alive. And I nailed it.
But the moment I stepped onto the porch, the morning hit a snag.
Madison and Chloe were already standing beside my truck, giggling like besties.
And just like that, the vibe took another turn.
My smile died a quick death. With no hope of resuscitation
Even when I came down the stairs and saw Dad being all lovey-dovey with mum, that didn't faze me. But this?
This didn't feel right at all.
I had no issue with Madison riding with me to school. Honestly, I'd been looking forward to it. Just like old times—we would be blasting 2000s hip-hop, singing untop of our voices, not giving a damn who heard, or who it bothered
But her? Why was she here?
When did they even get close?
One week. That's all it took for everything to completely go sideways.
And what in God's name was she wearing?
Lemon yellow cargo pants.
Lemon. CARGO.
Who wears lemon?
Her fashion sense was a crime scene. For someone supposedly a big deal in her last school, she dressed like she'd lost a bet. Either all that gibberish about her being the "it girl" at her old school was made up, or she was hiding something.
I took a deep breath and walked toward them, careful not to meet her eyes. I wore my best version of mean—tight lips, furrowed brow.
Didn't last long.
"Hey Brandon!" Madison beamed.
I glanced at her, pretending Chloe wasn't in my peripheral vision. But she was.
And she was watching me.
I convinced myself she'd somehow dragged Madison into this. If she thought she could quietly penetrate my safe space and slink under my radar, she had another thing coming.
"Hey," I said. "It's go time." I forced a smile so fake, it should've come with subtitles.
Maybe if I kept up the frost, she'd get the hint.
Madison grinned. "I thought you'd leave me again, so I came out early!"
I didn't respond. I just turned toward the truck and yanked the door but it was stuck—again.
They both watched me struggle, not bothering to hide their amusement.
Perfect.
I walked back to open the other door. But Chloe was standing too close to the handle. I didn't want to ask her to move—I didn't even want to speak to her. So I reached across anyway. She stepped aside, barely. Her red hair flicked close to my face. Too close.
I clenched my jaw and pleaded silently with the door. Not today. Please just open.
"You should really do something about that old truck."
Seth's voice cut through from behind.
I didn't even look back. "You already know why I—"
"Yeah, yeah, it's Grandpa's truck," he said, strolling up with his backpack slung over one shoulder. "But no one's gonna judge you if you put it out of its misery."
This again. I've had this argument too many times.
Even Mom offered to get me a new car last year. For my birthday but I refused.
People don't get it. It's not just a truck.
I pushed the door again, harder this time. Finally, it creaked open with the grace of a dying dinosaur.
"There!" I declared, flashing a smile that was 90% fake and 10% 'please kill me now.'
But no one was listening.
They were talking—without me. Madison, Chloe, Seth. Chatting like they'd been best friends since kindergarten. And the way Seth looked at her? Like he was about to write her a love song and name it Red Hair and Lemon Cargos.
I narrowed my eyes.
Were they talking about me?
They seemed so warm with her. So welcoming. And Madison—why was she laughing that hard?
A week ago, this was my crew.
Now I was the third wheel in my own truck.
Okay. That's it. Time to take control.
"Yo, Pumpkin! Still riding with me?" I called out, loud enough to cut through their conversation.
I didn't care if the redhead rode with Seth. In fact, she should. But a small, traitorous part of me hoped she wouldn't.
Before I could make sense of it, Madison grabbed her and dragged her toward the truck.
Chloe was still waving at Seth, who was now climbing into his own car.
As they reached the passenger side, I held the door open, assuming Madison would go first.
But then Chloe's voice—soft, unexpectedly sweet—broke through the awkward tension.
"Thank you," she said.
I froze.
For a moment, everything stilled—her tone, the way she said it. I dropped the door like it burned and put my mask back on. The scowl. The silence.
Without a word, I climbed into the driver's seat. Madison took the back, which left me sitting beside her.
This definitely didn't look good. Casey would lose her mind if she saw this. She's not so thrilled about Chloe living with us, talkless of riding with me in my truck. She'd skin Chloe alive.
Unless… Madison wanted this. Was she trying to set us up?
I drove in silence, the boulevard blurring past the windows. No music. No talking. Just three kids drowning in their own awkwardness.
Finally, Madison broke the silence.
"Did you know Chloe's a twin? Isn't that cool? Her sister's name is Zoe. She has the most gorgeous brown hair."
"Cool," I said flatly, hands tight on the wheel.
Why was she telling me that? Was she trying to make things more awkward?
She wasn't done.
"Chloe!" she called, turning to her.
I cut in fast. "Hey Pumpkin!" My voice came out sharper than intended.
Trying to redirect the convo. I didn't know why I cared, but I got the feeling Chloe didn't want to talk about personal stuff.
"When are the tryouts?" I asked.
"Oh, right!" Madison said. "Next Tuesday."
She turned to Chloe. "You should totally come! The more the merrier."
Chloe blinked like she hadn't expected that. But she managed to reply, "What are you trying out for?"
"Swim team!" Madison chirped.
Basically the big team.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Madison really liked her.
We pulled into Madison's school. She reached for the door, then looked back.
"Would you come pick me up?" she asked sweetly.
"Of course," I said.
But then she added, "Just… don't come with Casey."
"What? Why?"
"You know I don't like her." Then she turned to Chloe. "Come with him instead! You have to see Pete."
Who the hell is Pete?
And why the hell did she say that in front of Chloe?
As if she doesn't know too much already.
I reversed my truck and pulled back onto the road, heading to school. Dropping Madison off was the easy part. Now comes the real awkwardness. Ten more minutes to Lakeside—ten painfully silent, suffocating minutes.
I tightened my grip on the wheel.
Then she said it.
The one thing I never thought she'd ask.