Page 17 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“Chase,“ Ryder barks. “You can’t just go.”
Miranda raises a flattened palm, silencing Ryder. “Maybe it’s for the best. I’ll call for Mrs. Gallagher to clean this up.”
Ryder rolls his eyes. “I don’t want the freaking cook wiping down my equipment.”
Miranda throws her hands up and huffs. “What else do you want me to do? She’s the only person on staff right now.”
Brooks points a drumstick at me. “Make Cinderella clean it up.”
Miranda stomps a high heel on the rug. “No. Boys, get home and recenter yourself before your next practice. Chase, I’ll call your father. And Ryder, get yourself to the library with Alice.”
“Miranda!” Ryder snaps, his volume making me flinch. “You can’t be serious! I’m not going anywhere withthat girl.”
Miranda glares at him right back. “You’ll go, or I’ll have no choice but to tell Mr. Kensington your grades are toast. It’s then bye-bye showcase.”
The muscle in Ryder’s jaw flexes, and I watch how his hands roll into fists. Ouch. The sound of his knuckles cracking makes my skin crawl.
When Ryder’s dark eyes lock onto me, it makes me gasp for air.
No. No, I can’t do this. I can’t be locked in Miranda’s library with this boy. I won’t survive.
Miranda snaps her fingers at me. “Alice, go to your bedroom and collect the materials I gave you. Your study session is being moved up in priority.”
“But, I…”
Miranda’s eyes widen with fury. “Now, Alice.”
I suck in a breath and turn on my heels, careful not to knock over anything else with a hefty price tag.
“Miranda, this is bogus,” I hear Ryder snipe from inside the practice room.
With each hurried step to my bedroom, the boom of my heart quakes against my ribs and ricochets off my eardrums.
What have I done?
Huge gasp for air.
Where the heck am I?
Another gasp.
Who are these people?
I need a paper bag or I’m gonna faint.
This can’t be my life. I can’t be stuck with these people.
Five
“Twohours,”Mirandatoldme. “I need you to work with him for at least two hours.”
She loomed over me while I gathered all the materials from the desk in my bedroom.
“Mr. Kensington will not budge on his stance that all three band members need to graduate from Ashworth Academy,” she went on. “Believe me, it’s worth the effort. That school breeds winners. The boys will be making career-long relationships that will benefit them long into the future.”
She continued to prattle on about prestigious school alumni who can open every door in the world. But it became white noise as I made my way to the library. The papers in my hands may as well have been shackles, my estranged aunt my warden, and Ryder’s hateful glare my prison sentence.
The library is a small room, lined floor to ceiling with leather-bound books that have probably never been opened. A large mahogany table takes up the middle of the room, and I sit facing two large windows that overlook the misty forest.
