I washed my face and then redid my ponytail, easing around the yellowish bruise on the side of my face. I grabbed some toothpaste and cleaned my teeth with my finger.

Someone knocked on the door. “Hey, we’ll be in the big room past the yoga area. It’s downstairs,” Sebastian called out.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

Thinking I should get this day started the right way, I took out the flask and gulped down a big swig of vodka, coughing at the bitterness. I took another swallow, watching myself in the mirror, staring at the strange girl who’d gotten drunk last night. I didn’t know her, but I liked her a lot better than numb Nora. Yeah, this girl was real. She wouldn’t do everything Mother said. She wouldn’t break down behind closed doors, dreaming of knives, blood, and secrets. This girl could handle whatever shit came her way.

To make sure I was ready, I searched around the bathroom for a word to roll around, yet there was nothing that caught my attention except nail clippers, dental floss, and, of course, the toilet. Damn it. I closed my eyes, riffled through my cerebral dictionary and got what I needed.

“Hydraulic,” I said aloud. “A noun derived from Greek and Latin, referring to a system, such as the mechanism operated by the pressure transmitted when a liquid is forced through a small opening or tube. Such as a toilet,” I said, nodding at myself in the mirror for a job well done. I flushed it for good measure, watching the water swirl around.

There, I felt better.

Nope, not loony at all.

I walked out of the bathroom and halted. Sebastian was standing there, his head cocked as he looked at me.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

He arched his brow at me. “It sounded a lot like you were saying all this technical shit about the crapper.”

I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to make a joke, but it’s a pretty good one, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

I nodded and smiled widely, not able to resist his easy manner.

He held up a hand. “Wait a minute; you weren’t actually talking to the crapper, were you?”

“No,” I said. “I was defining a word, repeating its definition, parts of speech and etymology. The usual.”

His eyes widened. “A word?”

“Yeah, I got a thing for words. You know how some people collect sea shells? I collect words. I think about them all the time. They make me feel better when I’m jittery. I can’t get through the day without them. Well, I guess I could, but it wouldn’t be fun.” Understatement of the year.

“My mom collected porcelain figures,” he murmured, nodding like it was everyday you heard some girl admit she was neurotic.

Looking at Sebastian, I couldn’t help but see the differences in his and Leo’s appearance now. The opal-blue eyes were the same, but Sebastian’s blond hair was gelled in a buzz cut while Leo’s was longer and sexier. Enough to run my hands through and hold on tight while he pounded away.

I pushed Leo out of my head and checked out Sebastian, standing there in his skinny jeans and retro Beatles shirt. With expensive Italian loafers. This guy was so LA.

He wagged his finger at me. “I knew you’d like me. I’m hard to resist,” he grinned.

I shook my head at his arrogance.

“So, do you have a lot of words in your head?”

“How many do you think is a lot?” I said.

“My mom had like a hundred of those porcelain things, sitting around everywhere.”

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say I repeat different words in my head about five times a day. So that’s about thirty-five new words a week.”

“Damn,” he whispered out.

“Yeah, it’s what Mother calls a serious problem.”

My phone rang, and I saw it was the black bunny.

“Hey, can you give me a few minutes?” I said, nodding at the phone. “It’s my best friend, and I need to talk to her about what happened to me last night. She tends to worry.”

“Sure, come on down when you’re done,” he said, walking away.

And so, after I’d assured Mila I hadn’t been arrested or kidnapped by two lunatics, I made my way downstairs, ready to face Leo and his brand of justice.

I heard music, and I followed it to a big room at the end of the hall. The first sound I heard when I walked in the room was the rhythm of a slow piano melody and then a smooth drum beat that echoed behind the piano’s tempo. It sounded less stylized but a lot like one of my favorite indie bands, and I was proven correct when Sebastian started singing the opening bars to “Transatlanticism,” a song about two lovers who’d lost each other. The intense, driven sound captured me, and I lost myself in the music, letting my head bob to the beat. It’s true I spent the last several years studying classical piano, but this was the kind of music I loved and Mother hated.

While Sebastian crooned in a sexy voice, Leo was the one who drew my eyes as he played guitar. He might not be the front man for the band, but it was obvious he had talent the way his fingers flew across his guitar, grinding out the gritty sound. And he was delicious. My eyes ate him up, taking in the low slung jeans and tank. He’d hardly even looked at me during breakfast, so when his blue eyes met mine and held, my body got heavy and warm. The same excitement I’d felt for him last night came barreling back. Sure, he was older and possibly dangerous to my heart, but I didn’t care anymore about doing the right things.

On drums was a teen Latino girl with dreads, her head bouncing up and down as she sang backup. The piano player was a young guy, maybe in his early twenties, whose body rocked back and forth in a weird motion as he played. I paused, noticing he had a 35mm camera around his neck. What kind of musician carries around a camera while he plays?

I sat down in a chair to listen, enjoying the piano once again becoming the predominate instrument at the end. As the piano guy stroked the keys, the music took me away to a place where I fooled myself into believing I was happy. After the song was over, I let out a satisfied sigh. I loved their sound.

Leo sat his guitar down and walked over to me. “Come on and meet the band,” he said, surprising me by taking my arm and leading me to the young drummer. “This is Mary Beth, but she only answers to Vixen. She may be young, but she’s one of the best drummers in the Dallas area.”

Vixen blushed prettily.