1642734778_punk-57-pdf

I notice Trey lumbering toward her from behind and watch as he falls
on her, draping his arms over her. His eyes are hooded, and he can barely
stand.
“Hey, how goes it?” he slurs, gesturing between J.D. and me. “You, too,
huh? You skip around pretty fast, girl. I like it.”
Oh, please. I turn away from him but not before I see Lyla trying to
shrug him off.
“Come on,” he calls behind me, “friends share, J.D. You take mine for a
spin, and I’ll take yours.”
Trey grabs my arm, but J.D. knocks him off. “Stay away from her.”
Trey comes in again, but I steel every muscle inside me. “Enough!”
But just then, a voice rings out, and I stop.
“Thanks for letting us intrude, everyone,” Misha says, and I blink,
realizing the music has stopped.
Tearing my eyes away from Trey, I look up on stage and see Misha
standing at the microphone. He’s still wearing his suit, but he has a guitar
draped in front of him, and we meet each other’s eyes as a small smile
dances in his.
I take a step, drawn in.
“We’re Cipher Core, and this is dedicated to the cheerleader,” he says.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I notice his band mates on stage, the
same guys with him in the YouTube video I saw.
“Hey, it’s Masen,” J.D. says, mumbling. “I mean, Misha.”
The drums count off, the beat starts, and the guitars lead in, creating a
fast and hard but soulful tune. Misha’s voice drifts in slow and haunting but
quickly picks up pace.
Anything goes when everyone knows