Page 11 of Perfect Pitch

“I think I’ll go after all.” After Fallon’s jaw drops, I finish my thought. “As the DJ. It’s wedding season. There’s no way Mercy finds one within one hundred miles.”

“I...”

“What?”

“That’s freaking brilliant.” Fallon leans forward and places her hand on top of mine. “If there’s one thing we’ve said, music is your soul. It pumps through your blood.”

“And you know who cultivated that?”

“Who?” The next period bell rings in the distance.

“My mama. So, I guess she’s right. I don’t need to know who my father is because I got my heart from the person who stuck.” I gather my books and shove them in my backpack.

We stomp down the bleachers. But before I forget, I decide on one song I want to remix for the event.

It’s Sia and David Guetta’s “Titanium.”

I’ll show this damn place they can keep trying to destroy my ego but they’re never going to manage it. I’m stronger than that.

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

NOVEMBER: TWO YEARS AGO—KENSINGTON, TEXAS

Rumors circle that Beckett Miller and bandmate Mick Ceron are calling it quits due to a love triangle involving Ceron’s wife, Carly Stolliday.

Say it ain’t so, Beckett.

Choose the rock, not a roll.

—@PRyanPOfficial

“Mama, can we talk?”

My mother lifts her head from a medical journal she is reading. God, every time I’m confronted with the exquisiteness of her features, I’m shocked by the realization that she’s only thirty-five. If I wasn’t here, what kind of life would the brilliant Dr. Paige Kensington be leading? What would her life have been like without me? She pats the couch next to her. “Sure, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

I’m home on Thanksgiving break from the University of Texas and utterly miserable. I haven’t kept my unhappiness a secret from my mother, so my words shouldn’t be a shock. I flop down next to her before announcing, “I want to drop out of college.”

My mother leans forward and snags a bookmark I made for her in the first grade to slip between the pages of her magazine. Setting it aside, she remarks, “I’m not surprised, to be perfectly honest.”

I blink. “You’re not?”

She quirks a brow. “Austyn, we speak more now than we did when you lived at home.”

I hedge, “Well...”

“No well, about it. Dawn now schedules time so I can take your calls at work.”

I flush. “Sorry about that, Mama. I can cut back on them.”

She takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Don’t you dare. You are the most important person in my world, Austyn.”

I return the pressure on hers. “Same here, Mama.”

“Now, talk to me. You’re not happy?”

“It’s not the right fit for me.”

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