Free Who He Is (FireNine, book 1) by Shanora Williams

another low, deep note of his voice.
    “I can’t believe it,” Ben said, smiling. “It’s the song they were practicing in my garage. They said they weren’t going to sing it for another few months!”
    “It’s getting a great reaction!” I yelled over the music.
    “A very great reaction,” Ben said, rubbing his hands together. “Terri!” he shouted over his shoulder.
    Terri, a short guy with a large nose, square glasses, and cropped black hair, hustled his way forward to get to Ben’s side. “You’ve got to record the performance. I’m sure Luke will love to hear this one.”
    “Yes, sir.” Terri dashed away but returned in less than a minute, fidgeting with a video camera. My attention turned to Gage singing exquisitely. He’d dropped his guitar to wrap his fingers around the microphone. His eyes shut and as the boys slowed down the beat, his voice came out powerfully. He was giving it his all.

    …You promised me
    You’d let it all go.
    You swore to put me first,
    But all I got was your worst.

    So where the hell are you?
    What the hell are we?
    I needed you with me,
    But you continuously destroyed me.

    You promised meeee… so much.

    The lyrics were heart aching, incredible, but I questioned where they came from. Had Gage been in love before? He mentioned to me that he wrote most of the lyrics. I was sure this song was his as well.
    There was a lot about Gage that left me curious. I asked myself more and more questions abo ut him each day. He had more within him that he wasn’t showing and I couldn’t help but think there was a reason behind it all. What was he hiding?

    The boys were going out to another club, but this time I beat Ben before he could pull another mandatory night out. I told Marco to drop me off at the bus, deciding a little painting would do for the night.
    I only painted when there was absolute silence or with extremely loud music. I didn’t know where Ben was, but I knew he wasn’t going to show up for another few hours.
    The bus was quieter than usual, and with the crickets chirping outside the window, it made the night even better. It was peaceful. Humble.
    When I started, I couldn’t stop. I finger-painted a lot. It was a unique technique I’d learned the previous semester. It wasn’t the simple child’s finger painting, either. There was complexity of my fingernails, the back of my hand to make it look rougher, and even the palm of my hand to smooth edges. There was a flowerpot full of tulips on the table next to my dresser so I went with painting that.
    But then the front door of the bus creaked open and I paused on my next finger stroke. It slammed behind whoever stepped inside and then heavy footsteps started down the hallway. I knew there were a few security guards parked outside the bus so I got rid of the thought that maybe it was burglar or a murderer.
    A heavy grunt filled the silence and I stood, placing my paint on the floor and going for the door. I wiped my hands on my apron as much as I could to get rid of the paint before twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open. As I looked out, a pair of legs dangled from the top bunk of the hallway.
    “Gage?” I called, my eyebrows knitted.
    Gage turned around quickly and nearly hit his head on the ceiling. “Ellie,” he breathed.
    “What are you doing?” I laughed.
    “Came to change clothes, but my suitcase fell behind the bed.” He turned around again and grunted as he pulled up his suitcase. “Got it.”
    “Oh, okay.” I started to step back and close the door, but then Gage called my name and I paused.
    “What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his eyebrow arched.
    “I was just getting some painting done.”
    “You really don’t go out much, huh?” he teased.
    “Not really. I told you clubs and parties aren’t really for me.”
    Pressing his lips, he dropped his suitcase on the floor bef ore jumping from the top bunk and landing beside it. “There’s a place here where they square