Page 102 of Filthy Beautiful
Myprince.
In those two years, I wanted to see him, of course. And he did come back home, sometimes. But my school breaks, when I was home in Vancouver, never lined up with his tour breaks.
I didn’t see him again until I was sixteen. At a party.
And it definitely wasn’t the reunion I’d hoped for.
I’d just gotten home from school for the summer, and I went over to my brother’s place as soon as I could. I wanted to see Cary, of course.
But I also wanted to see Xander.
According to Steel Trap’s website, their tour had finished five weeks ago, and I was hoping he’d be back in Vancouver.
As it turned out, Dirty was also finished their most recent tour, and their lead guitarist, Jesse Mayes, was about to release a solo album. He was leaving on his solo tour in a few days, and there was a big party to send him off, at the home of Dirty’s manager, Brody Mason.
How did I know this?
Because while I was visiting my brother, he left the room for a few minutes… and left his cell phone behind. And yes, I picked it up.
I’d never snooped on Cary like that before. But then again, I’d never really had the opportunity.
I was worried about him, but I knew that didn’t make it okay.
I still did it.
At that point in time, I was pretty much obsessed with Xander Rush. I’d spent alotof time over the last two years, and a lot of hormones, thinking about him. Fantasizing about him. My memories of Xander were the kind of stuff that kept a girl warm on many a long, lonely night in a girls’ dorm.
When I checked my brother’s phone, it wasn’t locked. Why would it be? No one was ever around.
And that was how I found the text Xander had sent my brother. I opened it, because sometimes, we’re all terrible human beings, right? I mean, I felt bad about it.
But I still read it.
Xander had messaged my brother about the party happening at Brody’s house that night. He actually said,You should think about coming.
That was back when he still bothered to invite my brother out.
Cary wouldn’t go. I knew that.
But I was definitely going.
If it meant a chance to see Xander, hell yes, I was going.
I had no idea where Brody Mason lived, and when I dug through the contacts in my brother’s phone—terrible, yes—Brody was in there. But there was no home address listed.
I put Cary’s phone back on the table where he’d left it, and acted totally cool when he came back in the room—like I hadn’t just violated his privacy.
Later that day, as soon as I got home to my parents’ place, I called the one person I knew who might be able to help me out with this.
“Shayla, I’ve got a problem.”
“Lay it on me, babe.”
“There’s a big rock star party tonight and I need to get in. How do I do it?”
“Thatisa Shayla problem. Where’s the party?”
“At Brody Mason’s house.”
