Page 49 of Perfect Pitch

“Fallon!” comes an appalled exclamation on the other end of line.

By this point, I can’t speak. “I don’t even know what Mitch’s love stick...”

Fallon snorts her amusement.

“Cock. Dick. Penis,” I amend.

“That’s it, girlfriend. Get them all out to play with.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. He’s not around so I can.”

Now it’s Fallon’s turn to lose it laughing. “Ahh. Now I understand the problem. It’s a severe case of testiness brought about by a lack of meat in your diet.”

We’re both gasping for air. When I can finally gain a small semblance of composure, I ask her about how her dating life is going. She drawls, “I’ll continue to hold out hope your uncle is secretly pining away for me because the pickings around Seven Virtues are slim.”

I’m torn between reminding Fallon—again—my uncle Ethan is twenty years her senior and letting it go. Considering the mental picture Fallon painted for me, I decide on the latter. Switching topics, I ask about her break to see if she’s off the weekend my mother’s due to come for a visit.

Unfortunately, she’s not. “And I’d cut class and come anyway, but I have a massive test that Monday.”

“Bummer.” We gab for a few more minutes and talk about where we should spend New Year since my mother’s already throwing around the idea of a white Christmas with me in the city. Fallon’s mind immediately goes to, “Hmm, midnight kisses. I’m in.”

“You’re a goof.”

“But you love me anyway,” she singsongs.

“I do.” Just then, an incoming text comes through. “Hold on a sec, Fal.”

“’Kay.”

Lifting my phone away from my ear, I scan the message before hissing, “It’s him. He wants to know if I’m available to talk.”

“Well, then get your sweet ass off the phone with me and talk to him.” Her voice is exasperated

“And say what? Why have you ghosted me?”

Fallon’s cackle is nothing but evil. She suggests something so audacious even I can’t believe it. My hand drifts to my abdomen even as my mind takes a few seconds to process her words. “You’re not serious.”

“Completely. Guarantee his ass won’t forget to reach out and touch base then. Besides, what do you have to lose?”

“My reputation?” I remind her.

“Pshaw. All the big stars have sex tapes out there. This is nothing.”

Another ping comes through. I yank my phone away and read the text message.

Mitch:

I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I need to make it up to you.

I read what he wrote to Fallon who agrees wholeheartedly, “Darn right he does, preferably on his knees.”

“I’m hanging up,” I inform her.

“Go get ’em, Austyn. Love you.”

“Love you, more.” I disconnect the call and think about Fallon’s words. I wander over to the window contemplating how different Fallon sounds from when she lived in Kensington. Me? I still get caught up in the curse and blessings of being Austyn Melissa Kensington. Maybe it’s all in my head, but there’s a part of me who will always be that fatherless girl who was carefully ostracized by her classmates.

But here? My mind hasn’t fully caught flight the way my soul is beginning to. Why can’t I do what Fallon suggested? What’s the worst? That Mitch hates it?

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