Page 58 of Sure, Pal

27

Sienna

Iwas supposed to be working — sending emails and making appointments for the sales team at my company, but I found myself staring at my phone instead.

My follower count was still dropping, and a few death threats had even slipped into my inbox after Ava’s stunt.

This was complete bullshit, and I was sick to death of feeling small. I took a deep breath and clicked on the settings in my profile. My finger hovered over the Delete Account button.

I wasn’t going to quit my music because there was no way in hell I wanted to work in this boring office my entire life. Deleting my account wasn’t quitting. It was the first step in rebuilding.

At first, I’d been angry when Ava extended her “help” with my music career, but then I’d accepted it and slid right back under her shadow. The light always seemed to shine so brightly on Ava that some of the light fell on me even in her shadow.

But it wasn’t mine.

I deleted my account and felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I was going to start over and build my own following with my own songs. Fuck covers. I’d been writing my own damn songs since I was sixteen. It was about time I shared them with the world.

Right at five pm, I bolted from my desk and practically ran to my car. I called Toni, the owner of the coffee shop where I played most of my Friday nights. Toni answered, “Hi, sweetheart. Please don’t tell me you’re canceling on me this weekend.”

I laughed. “Not at all. I was wondering, how would you feel if I sang originals instead of covers?”

“That’s fine by me, as long as they aren’t explicit. I trust you, hon.”

I smiled to myself. “Thanks, Toni! I appreciate it! See you Friday!”

I burst into my apartment and headed straight for my guitar, not even bothering to change out of my work clothes. I had five songs that I could call ready, but I needed at least two more to fill my thirty-minute set at Toni’s.

I played my guitar and scribbled in my notebook until 2 am when I passed out on my living room floor.

???

The next day, I called Evan on my way home from work. I still had no idea what we were. We saw each other and talked all the time. I helped him with stuff at his mom’s. He came to my shows, and we platonically spent the night at each other’s apartments more often than not.

We didn’t talk about relationships or love or sex.

I was okay with all of it. I was happy that he was in my life and opening up after losing his dad. I was fine with being his “pal” for now.

I pulled up to a stoplight, and Evan answered the phone. “Hey, pal.”

“Hey! Can I run some new songs by you tonight? I think I’m going to play originals at my gig on Friday, and I could use some feedback on a few that I wrote last night.”

“That’s awesome, Sienna! I’m over at my mom’s if you want to stop by.” I could hear someone talking next to him, then Evan said, “My mom says you’re welcome to stay for dinner, too. She’s making barbecue chicken wings.”

“She’s cooking again?” A smile forced its way across my face. Evan’s mom was one of the world’s best cooks, but she’d hardly touched her kitchen since Evan’s dad got sick.

I could hear the smile in Evan’s voice, too. “Yep. So you’ll stay for dinner?”

“I would love to, thanks! I just need to stop at home to change and grab my guitar.”

“Cool. I’ll see you soon.”

When I got to the Cox family home, Evan greeted me at the door. He pulled me in for a hug and then welcomed me inside.

It wasn’t a loud, cheerful dinner like the ones Ava and I sometimes crashed in high school, but there was a sense of peace that settled over the table tonight.

After dinner, Bea and her infant daughter headed home, but Evan, Tanya, and Charlie gathered in the living room to hear me play. Evan grinned at me and said, “Presenting the beautiful and talented Sienna Black.” Then he handed me my guitar and slow clapped.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. It made my heart soar to see him smiling again. It wasn’t all the time, so I had to catch it and hold it in my memory when it happened.

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