Page 31 of How to Love a Rockstar

“What’s mine is mine.”

Cash whistles. “Let’s solve Dylan’s problem and then we’ll go to the brewery for some food.”

Gibson bursts into laughter. “We can’t solve Dylan’s problem in a day. He needs to grovel for at least a year before Virginia will deign to speak to him.”

I scowl. “What do you know about it?”

Indigo raises her hand. “I told him. In my defense, they threatened to storm over here if I didn’t.”

I snort. “Good thing you kept them from storming over here.”

She grimaces. “Oops.”

“Dude.” Jett shakes his head. “I can’t believe you turned down Virginia the way you did. Cold.”

“Not all of us can be charming.” Gibson winks.

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember her asking me out,” I admit. To my utter shame, I don’t remember Virginia at all.

“How can you not remember a girl asking you out? You’re not me,” Gibson says, and I reassess my decision not to hit him.

I crack my knuckles as I study where I should punch him first.

“No,” Cash growls.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not going to hit Gibson. You’re the peacemaker, not the fighter.”

“Why can’t I be both?” Cash raises his eyebrows and I sigh. “Fine, I can’t be both.”

“How are we going to fix this?” Indigo asks and brings us back to the matter at hand. Mainly, how big of an asshole I am.

“Was I an asshole in high school?”

Indigo flinches. Shit. There’s my answer. I was. I bury my face in my hands. I guess I can say goodbye to any future with Virginia. She’s never going to forgive me. And I can’t blame her if I was an asshole.

“Dylan,” Cash says and I drop my hands. “You were working two jobs, going to high school, and playing in a band. You were overwhelmed.”

“Pretty sure none of those excuse me for being an asshole. Mom would be appalled if she knew.” I should send her some flowers for having to put up with me.

“You weren’t an asshole,” Indigo claims.

“Which is why you flinched when I asked you before.”

“You weren’t an asshole all the time.” She pauses. “But the way you shot Virginia down when she asked you out? Bit of an asshole move.”

“I need to remember. Maybe if I remember, I’ll figure out why I was such an asshole to her.”

Indigo plops the yearbook down on the coffee table. “I brought this but I don’t know if it’ll help.”

I snatch the book up. “Sadie Hawkins,” I mumble as I flip through the pictures until I find a two-page spread of the dance.

“What is Sadie Hawkins anyway?” Jett asks.

“It’s a turnabout dance. The girls ask the boys instead of the usual way around,” Indigo explains.

“I prefer to do the asking myself,” Gibson says.

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