Riot Girl - (Cedarwood Book 1)

Wren

“Decaf, nonfat, vanilla latte with whip!” I shout, scanning the busy coffee shop.

The place is alive with the clatter of dishes, the hiss of steam, and the hum of grungy rock music—a refuge for the city’s misfits. I slip behind the register, taking orders and ringing them up as quickly as possible. I never thought this would be my life, but this job turned out to be a perfect fit. I’ve been here for years now, and I’ve settled into the rhythm of it all.

“Wren!” My boss, Vic, calls out in a panic. “When you clear this line, I need help in the front.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say with a reassuring smile. As she rushes away, I take a deep breath, eyeing the daunting line in front of me.

Everyone behind the counter is acting like they’ve forgotten how to use their hands. If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself. “Hey, Paige, switch with me,” I say, gesturing for her to take over the register.

As she steps into my spot, I turn around and start tackling the backlog of coffee orders. Grabbing a cup, I slide a sleeve onto it with a familiar crunch. My hands move on autopilot as I tamp the espresso grounds, attach the portafilter, and pull the shot. The rich aroma of espresso fills the air, giving me a much-needed boost. While I steam milk and work through the orders, my mind drifts.

I’ve been on my own for almost five years now. I’m twenty-five, and most people would think I’m in the prime of my life, but I don’t feel that way. Every day, I wake up missing what was taken from me—my happily ever after. When my fiancé was killed in a motorcycle accident, it was so unexpected. It happened on the night of our engagement party, and the trauma of it is seared into my memory.

After losing the love of my life, I wanted to give up. For a while, I did give in to the pain. But eventually, I realized I needed to try to live again. Even though I’m trying to be a normal twenty-five-year-old, my will to live is nearly gone without Kilian. He was my everything, and since he’s been gone, I’ve just been going through the motions.

Once I clawed my way out of the grief, I started working at a vintage store—Vic’s. It’s in the heart of downtown, and it’s the kind of place Kilian would have loved. We have a coffee bar in the back and sell everything vintage, from clothes to vinyl. It’s good work for me, and it keeps me busy, though I’m often tempted to spend my paycheck on the vintage t-shirt collection. But I’m pretty good at resisting temptation. At least here, there are enough distractions to help me get through the day.

When I finally clear the orders, I turn around and see that the line has dwindled to just two customers. I check on Paige and then move to the front of the store, where Vic is struggling with the t-shirt folder.

“Oh, Wren, thank goodness,” she says with an exasperated chuckle. “We got a truck today, and the new stock person called out.”

“Don’t worry,” I say, smiling at her. “I’ve got this.”

She gives me a little wave and smile before heading back to the center of the shop. I don’t mind folding the vintage t-shirts. The worst part is wanting to buy them all, but other than that, the folding is almost meditative. The use of the folding board makes me feel like a machine—steady, precise, detached.

Vic might depend on me a little too much, but I don’t mind. It’s a good job, and she pays me enough to sustain my lifestyle. After Kilian passed, I discovered he had a life insurance policy that he left to me. Between that, the money we had in savings, and royalties from our songs, I could probably just skate by. But I like having something to do with my days. It keeps me from sinking too low into the darkness.

It’s nice to have a little extra money, too. I’m still doing my best to support my sister, Quinny. She’s nineteen now and moved into my apartment when she started attending community college. We share a bedroom like a dorm, with two twin-size beds on either side of the room. To some, it might seem less than ideal, but I like it. It’s nice to have someone there with me again.

After Kilian died, I was hesitant to change anything about our home. I could see him everywhere, but eventually, seeing him everywhere became too much. I’ve left little shrines to him around the apartment. I’ve kept his desk exactly as it was the day he died. I dust it and keep it tidy, but everything goes back exactly as he had it—down to the tiny photo of me tucked into his calendar and the crumpled-up papers with discarded lyrics.

Before he passed, we worked from home and collaborated on our songwriting business. It was the best life, and I couldn’t have been happier. When we sold songs, we always celebrated with Sno Balls and cheesy popcorn. But after he passed, I couldn’t find the inspiration anymore. All my lyrics were dark and twisted. I processed my pain through my writing, but I was hesitant to sell my soul. So, I stopped submitting songs to labels, and our business floundered.

Two weeks before Kilian’s crash, he asked me to marry him. It was the most perfect proposal anyone could have ever wanted—a scavenger hunt that started at our middle school and led us around town to all our favorite places, ending with him on one knee.

Sure, we were young. Kilian proposed on my twentieth birthday, but everyone knew we were endgame. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. I know that if he hadn’t been tragically taken from me, we’d be married today, happy as ever.

I still wear my ring on his chain around my neck. I can’t bear to see it on my hand every day, but I need it with me. Usually, it’s tucked into my collar, close to my chest, right where it belongs.

Life has settled into a comfortable rhythm. I’m starting to allow myself to feel emotions other than pain and anger.

Of course, I still see Declan all the time. He’s like a brother to me. He’s always in and out of Vic’s during the week, and on the weekends, he’s usually at my apartment.

We have a monthly friend date with Gael, too. Gael isn’t around as much because his marketing job is demanding. He runs in a different social circle now, but when we’re together, it always feels comfortable, like old times.

My whole vibe is still a dark mood, though—not that it’s changed much since high school. I have a hard time being open to making new friends and meeting new people. Maybe the all-black-everything look doesn’t work for everyone. There’s a reason my best friends have always been male. Girls don’t like me. I’ve heard more than once that I put out a bitch aura. I do my best to get along with everyone, but it doesn’t always go my way.

Gael

Life has changed so much in the last few years. I’m lucky I landed a great job fresh out of school. I’m in marketing now, and I feel like this profession plays to all my strengths. There are networking parties and lots of perks, but it’s not always all it’s cracked up to be.

Of course, I love my job, but I don’t get to see the people I care about nearly enough. I carry a lot of guilt because I wasn’t around for Wren after Kilian passed away. I did my best, but I think I had to focus on my job for my own peace of mind.

Losing Kilian was hard on all of us, but I’m sure it was worse for Wren. Declan’s been there for her, and I’m positive he supported her, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Just when it seemed like Wren’s life was going well, she had her heart ripped out of her chest.

I miss her. I miss her sweet smile and go-getter attitude. It’s not that we’re on bad terms—I still see her at least once a month—but I miss the days when our biggest problem was who was going to Homecoming with whom. She was always a force to be reckoned with, but lately, it’s like she’s a storm cloud waiting to explode.

She’s so angry. Not that I blame her. But I wish I could find a way to make her happy again. I still love Wren like a sister. She’s honestly one of the best people I’ve ever met, but it feels like she gave up on herself after losing Kilian. I just want to see her shine again.

Declan is still my right-hand man. I see him a lot more often than once a month. Because of my job, I’m always out at the uptown bars, rubbing elbows with models and the like. Declan is a good sidekick for that, but it hardly seems like Wren’s scene. Even when we invite her along, she usually turns us down.

When I got to work this morning, I thought it would just be a regular day. But when I glanced over my schedule, I saw Bang Out of Order booked on Wednesday. Bang Out of Order is arguably the only thing that Wren loves as much as she loved Kilian.

This is perfect. I’ll work my magic and schedule a quick meet-up. I can finally get some time with Wren, and it will probably make her dreams come true.

There’s no doubt in my mind that she loved Kilian, truly and deeply. But we all know she pines for Liam LaGrange like he’s a god. You should hear the way she talks about him.

Pulling up the Bang Out of Order file, I try to find out what we’re doing for them. It could be any number of things, from casting to marketing to social media. But when I read the brief, fireworks go off in my head—we’re casting their new music video.

Sometimes I let my wacky ideas run away from me, but usually, it works out well in the end. Wren would be perfect for this, but I have to figure out a way to get her into the office. I know she wouldn’t willingly sign up to be a model, even if it meant meeting Liam LaGrange. It’s going to take some clever maneuvering, but I want to slip her into the pool of models so she can be considered.

Wren is tiny—she always has been—but she’s feisty and full of fire. She’ll either be completely dwarfed by the tall models with their perfectly manicured faces, or she’ll stand out like TNT waiting to ignite. Wren is so unique with her tattoos and vivid red hair. She just seems like the right vibe for the video, whether she’s my best friend or not. I’m hoping they’ll see what I see, but first, I have to get her in.