Page 48 of Perfect Pitch

“Ten clubs in New York to play. New freaking York City, Austyn. This is what you’ve always dreamed of!” she concludes on a screech.

I’ve been pirouetting around the room when I come to a halt. Over my shoulder in the mirror are my newly dry cleaned hot pink pants. I’m immediately flung back to that first night with Mitch.

That’s when I begin to curse virulently.

It’s been two weeks since he left for his “business trip.” I feel like I didn’t just get a kiss goodbye but a kiss-off. He can kiss my ass if he thinks I’m going to be waiting by the phone, I think angrily.

I have plans and a life to live, music to make.

“Whoa, girlfriend. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about something I forgot to put in the contract,” I lie baldly.

“Uh-huh.”

My eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve spent the last forty minutes telling me how hyped you are, and now you sound like someone dropped horse dung in your Cheerios. This leads me to ask you one question.”

“Fal, don’t,” I caution.

“How’s the guy you were telling me about the last time we talked?” she yells out the question.

“Well, let’s put it this way. I’ve talked to you more in this conversation than I have him in the last two weeks.”

I can hear the disgruntlement in her voice. “Ouch.”

I release a sigh. “Tell me about it.”

“Too bad.”

“Why?”

“He sounded like he had it all.”

“What? Like fingers to make a damn call? Yes. He had those.”

Fallon roars with laughter. “No, I meant, he sounded like he checked off most of the must-have boxes of hot, hard, horny.” Even as I choke, she adds wistfully, “Plus, he’s older.”

I reply as sweetly as I can, “Want me to give him your number?”

“Fuck no. I don’t want to be ghosted. I have enough problems getting laid here at school.”

A bubble of laughter escapes. “Well, what did you expect? You go to a university whose name has the word ‘Virtue’ in it?”

Fallon grumbles about her own shortsightedness before launching into a diatribe about men’s lack of ability to do more things at once. “I mean, let’s face it. Most of them can barely have their heads between our legs and remember to slide their fingers in.”

I fall back on my bed due to the laughter that’s stealing the breath from my lungs. “Christ, Fal.”

Her voice holds the perfect note of innocence. “What?”

“I miss you.”

“Good. If you miss me, then you’ll visit me,” she declares outrageously.

“Like I wouldn’t do that anyway,” I chide her.

“Listen, I know how it goes. A talented love wand gets between your legs and that’s it. Suddenly, it’s bros before—”

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