Page 57 of Strange Love

“Anyway,” she starts while giving me the side-eyed look of someone slightly annoyed, “my parents have always had a heart for helping children in need. They’ve taken in numerous foster kids over the years, and even though I’m their only officially adopted child, our home has always been open to those who needed it. But as they’re getting older, they haven’t been able to take in any foster kids for the past two years.”

I nod, trying to anticipate where this story is going. She’s quiet momentarily, lost in her thoughts, before returning her focus to me.

“This is the part where it’s not my story to tell,” she says with a sigh, her words heavy with the weight of secrets and difficult situations. “I can tell you this, though. I guess things have been bad for Taz at home for a while. Some stuff went down with his brother the night before the game he missed, and when I told my parents about it, they offered to have Taz come and stay with us.”

My eyes grow wide as I try to grasp the gravity of what she is telling me.

“Taz is living with you right now?” I squeak out, my mind reeling at the thought of having the notorious troublemaker in her house.

“Yes,” she confirms, her voice tinged with frustration and exhaustion, “and it’s as horrible as you think it would be. He’s been staying at my house for less than a week, and I already want to kill him.”

A mix of shock and amusement washes over me. Who would’ve thought that Sascha and Michael Tazman, enemies by all of Sascha’s accounts, would now live under one roof? My hands instinctively fly to my mouth as if trying to contain a laugh at the irony of the situation.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sascha continues, her tone pleading. “He needed to escape that situation and had no one else. My parents do this sort of thing, so it makes sense, but now I have Michael Tazman two doors down, blasting his music, using all the hot water, and apparently driving me to school because my parents say it’s a ‘waste of gas’ to take two cars to the same place.” Her words spill out in a rapid stream of discontent, never stopping to take a breath, her face contorting into a mixture of frustration and resignation.

“Oh my God, Sash.” I say sympathetically. “I am so sorry that you have to be in this situation, but you must admit it’s funny.” My lips twitch with a hint of a smile, but hers form a tight line, and her eyes narrow into a sharp squint. She doesn’t find my amusement as amusing as I do.

“I’m grateful that you guys can be there for Taz,” I tell her.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she adds, aimlessly picking at the French roll of her turkey sub. “Anyway, I’m not sure how long this whole thing will last, but for now, it’s just how it is.” With a quick, decisive movement, she sips her drink, the glass clinking against the tabletop as she sets it down. Her expression changes suddenly, her eyes widening with shock and realization. “Now that I think about it, this is all your fault for luring me into this mess,” she exclaims, the accusation evident in her voice. “You owe me BIG TIME for getting involved.”

“Anything you want,” I tell her with a playful smile.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she requests. “Like I said, it’s not my story to tell.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I reassure her. “I won’t even tell Corey. I’m sure Taz will tell him soon enough himself.”

“So let’s change the subject,” she suggests. “How are things going with you?”

“Good,” I reply. “Everything is going well.”

“You sound surprised,” she notes.

“I am a little bit,” I admit. “I mean, I didn’t expect to have to do anything but tolerate my senior year, much less enjoy it.”

“Oh my God,” she practically yells, slamming her hand down on the table and making me jump. “Speaking of enjoying things, did you hear that your boyfriend and the rest of those airheads will be in the talent show?”

“The what?” I say, caught off guard by her sudden outburst.

“The winter talent show,” she confirms with a nod. “Taz was blathering about it the other day. Apparently, it’s some secret project.”

“I’m both terrified and intrigued,” I confess as my mind races with possibilities.

Chapter 33

“Rock The Casbah”

Ivy - Age 18, 1989

Against all odds, Sascha’s suspicions were proven correct. Corey and the rest of the guys had been secretive about the upcoming talent show, but it’s now clear that they had signed up to perform. Whispers and mysterious disappearances had filled the week leading up to tonight, leaving Sascha convinced that they had been practicing in the gym. We couldn’t confirm their whereabouts or activities for the past five days despite our efforts.

I have suspicions about what’s going on, only because I’ve heard some music blaring from Taz’s truck that normally isn’t his style. They returned from lunch the other day while we were sitting outside, and I could clearly make out the high falsetto notes of Joey McIntyre emanating from the cramped space inside the truck.

Corey and the guys were howling with laughter when they emerged, and as soon as they saw Sascha and me eyed them skeptically, they stopped laughing and flashed us the sheepish smiles of children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

I tried to pry the truth out of Corey, even threatening not to kiss him until he told me what they were up to, but he only laughed and with good reason. We both know it would be impossible for me to make good on that threat. Kissing him has become my favorite thing, and there’s no sense in denying it.

So here we are, gathered in front of the stage in the school auditorium, eagerly anticipating whatever grand spectacle they are about to present. The faint scent of freshly polished floor mingles with the buzz of excitement in the air and dissipates the smell of clove cigarettes that someone nearby smoked before coming in here.