Page 41 of The Pucking Grump

“I’ve got an idea.” There’s a tiny gleam in his eyes when he turns back to me. “Damn it all to hell. We shouldn’t stay cooped up here anymore. There’s an open mic night in one of the bars in town. If we sit in a booth, no one will see us. We can get some fresh air, and you can start feeling like yourself again. Then, you can plan your comeback.”

I’m too exhausted to even argue. “Okay.”

It takes twenty minutes for me to shower and get dressed. I put on jeans, a clean shirt and get one of Blake’s baseball caps. Then we hop into his car.

“Didn’t know someone like you would enjoy open mic nights.”

He doesn’t look at me, but his lip twitches. “I’m not a complete caveman. I enjoy music.”

“Yeah, just not my music.”

For the second time, I wonder about sounding pathetic. But Blake gives me a half-smile. “Well, you can’t fault me for that. Our tastes differ. I could stomach your songs if I didn’t think the lyrics were so . . . untrue.”

“Ouch.” I can’t exactly fly into a rage, though, because he’s right.

“Oh, come on. I was scrolling on social media one day, and I heard one of your songs. You know, the one about how hugging him makes you feel whole. I knew you just had to be faking it.”

Today has been one of the worst days of my life but hearing him say that causes a burst of laughter to spill from my lips. Especially when I think of how awkward and weird it always felt, hugging Ben.

“You got me,” I admit. I want to add, it could be true with the right man, but I’m done sounding pathetic and desperate. The last thing I want is for him to get the wrong idea.

“Don’t worry, though,” he says now. “In a few days, you’re going to go back to being the same lovable girl you always have been, and everyone’s going to get high on your songs again. This too shall pass.”

“You sound so sure I almost believe you.”

“Because it’s the truth,” he says. “Trust me. When things got heated for Alex, I was the one who suggested he date my sister until things cooled off. She’s the very image of innocence. Just being around her would be sure to get people off his back. That was my plan, anyway.” His lips are drawn again. “And things really cooled off when they kissed in front of a hundred cameras.”

I turn to him. “You’re kidding.”

“Thought you’d have heard of that part too. I was furious . . . until I realized Brit had been the one to orchestrate the whole thing. And it worked. Their fake relationship repaired his reputation, and suddenly social media loved him again.”

I pause. A plan is forming in my head.

Blake pulls out in front of a downtrodden bar standing alone in front of a thicket of trees. “Here we are.”

I’ve never been to a place like this, and I’m certain people will spot me from a million miles away.

“There are corner booths in the back,” Blake says, reading my thoughts. “Don’t worry. Not a single soul will set their eyes on you.”

I gulp and nod. We get out of the car and Blake leads the way, ignoring the main entrance and slipping in at the side. I follow him and look around. The place is warm and almost completely engulfed in darkness. Only the stage, where a woman is belting out a song, is well lit. Blake immediately picks a spot to the side of the stage. Like he promised, it’s pitch black.

“Feeling better already?” Blake says after I slide in beside him. The hairs on my neck rise, and for a moment, I internalize the fact that we’re in a secluded place in public.

That Blake’s fantasy could come true here.

I try not to focus too hard on that, instead looking at the woman who’s singing a rock song. She goes on and on until I feel a distinct pounding in my head. I turn to Blake, wondering how he could possibly be enjoying this, but his face is covered in shadows. Just when I’m certain I can’t take it anymore, the woman stops, and a moderator comes on stage.

“Well, that was . . . bracing,” he says, as the lights are switched on and the whole room becomes brightly lit. I see immediately why Blake picked this spot—it remains ashy dark over here. “Do we have any other volunteers before we wrap tonight up? Come on, anyone?”

A girl who looks about twenty comes up on stage. The lights flicker off as she starts to talk in a croaky voice. “Hello, everyone. Yeah . . . this song is one that has spoken to me since the first time I heard it and has made me believe there’s someone out there for everyone. Now, I don’t know where mine is or why he’s taking so long,” a polite titter runs through the audience. “but he exists, and just in case he’s right here, this one’s for you.”

She takes a deep, quavering breath and starts to sing.

“In your eyes, I find a truth so bold,

A story untold, in whispers and gold.

You’re the missing piece, my heart’s refrain,

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