Page 35 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

He drops his head, and I think he actually feels bad that he’s leaving. “The funeral is tomorrow. I’ll be home. We can catch up more.” He kisses the top of my head and leaves.

Then, the house is so quiet that it’s like I can hear my own thoughts out loud. In all honesty, it’s hard to tell what are my thoughts and what are my words. I feel so clouded lately, with Mom, and how Dad is acting. I don’t let that bother me much. At this point, I’m pretty used to it. I need to focus on myself.

***

A couple of hours go by as I flip aimlessly through the channels on the TV, looking for something to watch, but everything reminds me of how much I screwed my entire life up.

Each show consists of schools, great jobs, or successful families.

I get to the point where I shut the TV off, toss the remote on the coffee table, and lean my head back for a minute before pulling out my phone to text Chloe.

Are you busy? I could really use some company.

I hate admitting that. There has not been one day I needed Chloe—or anyone for that matter—to be there for me the way I need right now. I’ve always been the one to comfort others and hold the pieces together. The bubbles appear in the corner, and a swooshing sound comes through as Chloe responds.

I’m stuck at work until ten tonight. Is everything alright?

I stare at her response for a beat before speeding my fingers across my screen.

Yeah. No, I mean. I am OK. I just didn’t feel like being alone again. Are you coming tomorrow?

Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Gotta go. My boss is not happy.

At least I won’t be alone at Mom’s funeral. I lock my phone and groan dramatically. Throwing my head back, I stride up to my room, close the door, and slip into something comfortable so I can try and sleep until the morning.

Chapter Twelve

Alec

I’m sitting in my car, parked on the side of the road in front of my apartment. I finish my cigarette and think about calling Chase and telling him to not worry about pushing the dates for Denverson. I have my reasons for wanting to, but now that I’m developing feelings for Summer, there is that little piece of me—a very tiny piece of me—that feels like, if I leave now, the feelings won’t progress.

Then I think of the last thing she asked me. Nobody I’ve been with in the past has ever asked me to teach them how to play the guitar, and that stirs something inside of me that I can’t ignore.

My mind is clouded. A battle of yes and no, constantly fighting back and forth in my head. I stuff my smoke out and bring my fingers to my temples to lightly massage them, hoping to release the headache sneaking up on me. It doesn’t help much, but it’ll do.

Once my headache is a tad more tolerable, I pick my phone up from the center console to send Chase a quick message.

Any word of Denverson?

Chase is usually quick at getting back to me about tour dates. But this time seems different. I know he wasn’t thrilled about my idea of postponing because Denverson is pretty tough to get into. Something tells me that he’s really pushing for the reschedule.

Chase usually gets us what we want, so I don’t have much to worry about in that area. I’ll just wait for his reply and go from there. That’s all I can do at the moment.

A light knock on my passenger side window catches my attention. I turn my head to see Samantha waving with a small smile.

I take a deep breath and roll the rest of my window up before stepping out of the car.

“What’re you doing chillin’ in the car this late?” she asks.

Honestly, I haven’t paid much attention to the time. It’s almost eleven at night. I’ve been in my car since I drove back home after Summer left earlier.

I grip the back of my neck to ease some tension in my muscles. “I haven’t heard from Chase.”

Samantha brings her arms across her chest. “Doesn’t surprise me. He sort of made it clear that we’d lose the opportunity if they refused to change dates. We should have just taken the offer.”

I roll my eyes and walk to the door. She follows me close behind me. “Chase has never failed us before. I have faith.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never had a deal this big before,” she points out. I hate that she’s right, but at the same time, we can’t have everyone walk all over us either. If they want us to play at their events or pubs, they can agree to our needs.

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