Page 29 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

Brady sits behind the drum set, tapping his foot. He’s always fidgeting. The guy can’t relax. It’s no wonder he became a drummer—any excuse to keep his hands moving. “There’s nothing like that first gig,” he says. “You’ll feel sick with nerves, and something will probably go wrong, but you’ll remember it forever.”

I give him a grateful smile as I pick up my guitar, and Dave jumps to his feet.

“Hey, put that thing away. We’ve got something for you.”

My eyebrows pull together as I slowly set my guitar back in the case. “What?”

Reaching behind the drum set, Dave grabs a different guitar case and hands it to me. “Think of it as a loaner. You can’t play your first gig with that guitar. No offense.”

“None taken,” I say with a bewildered laugh as I take the case from him. Opening it, my jaw nearly drops to the floor. Even with obvious wear and tear, the vintage sunburst mahogany finish still shines. My hand traces over the dark outer edges as I glance at the three guys in front of me. “A Gibson?”

“Don’t get too excited,” Marty says. “It’s my old one, and I bought it used. It’s been through some shit, but you’re welcome to use it until you can get something a little better.”

“Are you kidding?” I grab the guitar and hold it. Letting my fingers strum over the strings. “This is the best thing anyone has ever given me.” The three guys I’ve idolized for years grin, and a sense of calm hits me. This is where I’m supposed to be. I might not have anything in common with these guys outside of music, but this is where I belong. Right now, they feel more like family than anyone I’m related to by blood, and I need to make this work. Friday, I’ll make sure I play better than I’ve ever played before.

The door to Margot and Rae’s dorm is open when I get back from practice. It’s just after 9:00 p.m. and I steal a glance as I walk by.

Margot is sitting on her bed, her laptop open, and Rae is nowhere in sight. Instead, Keith sits on the other end of her bed with his laptop in front of him.

She sees me looking and goes to give me a tight-lipped smile when her eyes catch on my guitar case. “New guitar?”

My eyebrows furrow as I look down at the case in hand. It’s a different case than I had this morning, but they’re both black. Dave said he’d hold my old one for me, and I didn’t think anyone would notice. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Cool,” she says with a nod before looking back down at her laptop. Keith gives me a wave I awkwardly return. This poor guy needs to read her signals better. She’s practically using her laptop as a barrier to keep them apart, and I have a feeling she left the door open so he wouldn’t try anything.

Unlocking the door to my dorm, I leave it open as I go inside. It’s too quiet when Matt’s gone. Setting the guitar on my bed, I can’t help noticing Keith does more of the talking than Margot. She’s mostly just answering his many questions.

I don’t have much to do tonight. I plan on catching up on my classes tomorrow, so I fall back against my bed. I’d normally put on music, but Keith has just mentioned Taylor Swift for the second time since I got home, and I know he’s grasping at straws, desperate to prove he and Margot have something in common. There’s no way Margot will go along with this conversation and indulge him. She has to draw the line somewhere.

Margot’s response is quiet, so I don’t make out what she says. It’s like she knows I’m trying to listen and she wants to ruin my fun. Letting out a sigh, I get to my feet, not sure why I want to help her but doing it anyway.

“Hey,” I say, with a hand on her door frame. “I’m ready to work on that project for English whenever you are.”

She stares at me, wide-eyed and clueless until something clicks. “Oh, right!” She looks at Keith. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot. Mind if we call it a night?”

Keith glances between Margot and me before closing his laptop. “Sure. No problem.” He forces a smile before turning to Margot, his back facing me like he can cut me out of their moment. “This was great. You’re really good at explaining things.”

Margot’s eyes jump past Keith to me, and I act like I’m about to stick my finger down my throat, making a gagging face. She presses her lips together like she’s trying to seal in a laugh. “Yeah, this was great,” she says, focusing her eyes back on him.

I walk into my room, leaving them to handle their awkward goodbye and collapse onto my bed again, resting my arm over my head.

I don’t expect Margot to come in here when she’s done. There’s no project for English. She and I both know that, so when she’s standing in my doorway, I sit up.

She walks across my room and takes a seat at the foot of my bed, her back resting against the wall as if she’s done this a million times. “Thanks for that,” she says with a sigh.

I sit against the head of my bed, my back pressed against the other wall. “Just tell him you don’t want to study with him.”

Her eyes widen as she looks over at me. “I can’t do that.”

I force a laugh. “Sure, you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Plus, it might make things weird. We live on the same floor.”

I cock an eyebrow. “You don’t have a problem hurting my feelings.”

“Keith is nice. You’re . . .” She waves her hand aimlessly in my direction. “You.”

“Thanks,” I mutter dryly. When she doesn’t make a move to leave, I say, “You can go home now.”

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