Azar on Fire by Olivia Abtahi

Author:Olivia Abtahi [Abtahi, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2022-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

What’s the point of feeling sad

When the gold is glinting?

What’s the point of feeling bad

When your team is winning?

He stops suddenly and looks at Adrienne, who’s already fallen asleep on his lap. Meanwhile, I feel rooted to the spot, frozen in plaid.

Eben’s loud, boisterous voice from the locker rooms is gone, replaced by something fragile and soft. Both Ebens sound amazing, but there’s something about this song that I know is rare. There’s real feeling and emotion behind it, and it’s the kind of song where all he needs is a guitar and a mic. And he definitely doesn’t need a drummer like me.

“That’s all I got,” Eben says apologetically, gently moving Adrienne into a better position on his pillows. She breathes deeply, like she falls asleep in his bed all the time.

My mouth’s gone dry. I don’t know why Eben decided to show this side of himself to me, but it makes me feel like I’ve just witnessed something private and precious.

“It was great,” I manage to choke out. “Really great.”

“Yeah?” He searches my eyes, desperate for approval. But I’m a high school loser with zero social standing. Who cares what I think?

“Yeah.” I nod. “You should share it with the rest of the band on Friday.”

“Thanks, Azar.” He walks over, and instead of giving me a fist bump like he normally does, he gives me a hug. He’s so much taller than me that my face goes right into his chest, and I awkwardly pat his back.

“That was terrifying,” he admits. I can feel his racing heart through his sweatshirt. I wonder if he can feel mine, too. I’m so close, I can smell his deodorant.

I pull back before I get carried away. “That’s what being a songwriter is. Putting yourself out there. Even if it’s scary.”

“A songwriter, eh? That has a nice ring to it.”

“Welcome to the Secret Society of Songwriters.”

He laughs, and knowing I made him laugh feels like liquid fire being injected into my veins.

Then I imagine Sydney winking at me, and my face burns bright red. I’m just another girl succumbing to the charms of Ebenezer Hollins, fifth of his name.

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