Page 23 of A Wish for Us

Teardrops fell onto the keys. Dad’s face came into my mind. The last look he ever gave me—pain and sadness. A face I never saw again.

He’d taken the music with him.

My hands slipped from the keys. I couldn’t breathe. The room was too silent and still, and—

The sound of the door opening made me look up. I felt the blood in my face drain as I saw who stood in the doorway. Bonnie Farraday was staring at me, her face pale and her brown eyes sad. And it ruined me. In that moment, I hadn’t wanted to be alone. But I had no one to lean on. No one to turn to. I’d pushed everyone away.

And then she appeared. Her eyes filled with tears. Bonnie was there with me when I was breaking apart. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to leave, needed to push her away too. I didn’t need anyone in my life. I was better off alone. But in that moment, I wanted her near. Then she touched my arm, and I nearly gave in.

When I looked into her eyes as tears fell from mine, I knew I had to get out of the room. I broke into a run, hearing Bonnie’s voice as she called my name. I ran until I reached the small clearing Easton had shown me earlier. I slumped down on the grass and let the warm breeze wrap around me. As I lit up a smoke, I caught sight of my hands.

They seemed different. Fingers freed, somehow, like I’d finally given in to what they wanted after all these years.

I’d played. I’d let the music back in.

As I took a drag of my cigarette, I tried to push the feeling of it from my head. But the echo of the notes still lingered in my ears. The shadows from the colors were still living in my mind, and the phantom feel of the keys beneath my fingers was still etched on my skin.

Muscle memory refusing to let go.

Frustrated, I lay back and looked up at the night sky. The stars were out in full effect. I closed my eyes, trying to push everything away and get back to the emptiness I’d embraced for so long. It didn’t work. Nothing would leave me.

Especially not the southern accent of Bonnie Farraday and the look in her eyes.“The way you can play…”

Her voice was violet blue.

I closed my eyes.

It was my favorite color to hear.

Chapter Nine

Cromwell

I stared at her in her seat next to the prick that was Bryce. She smiled and laughed with him as Lewis prepped for the lecture.Look away, arsehole,I told myself. I did. Only for her laughter to make my eyes snap back in her direction.

Her laughter was pale pink.

As I watched her now, my stomach clenched. My phone flashed on as I pressed the unlock button. And like I had all weekend, I stared at the simple message that had come through.

Bonnie: Are you okay?

The simple question made something happen in my chest. It felt like it was cracking more and more with every time I read it.Are you okay?

I hadn’t seen Bonnie all weekend. She hadn’t come to see Easton, who was mostly sleeping off his hangover from Friday night. I’d watched the door from behind my laptop, just waiting for her to turn up. I waited for Easton to move, just in case he was going to meet her. But she never came, and East only left to get food.

I told myself it was a good thing. That I didn’t want to see her after making such a fool of myself. But then I’d lain awake all night staring at her simple text.Are you okay?

I didn’t reply.

I busied myself with work. Got my mixes uploaded. The tunes were already the top stream in EDM. It should have made me happy. But every time I listened to them, all I saw was dullness in my mind. Now that I’d played the instruments I’d once loved so much, everything seemed lifeless in comparison.

I had to forget it ever happened. But now when my eyes wandered to Bonnie again, to her pretty face and thick, dark hair, I felt like I was back in that room, with Bonnie’s hand on my arm.

She’d tried to speak to me when I came in today, but I’d walked past her without a word. I wasn’t sure I could look at her again without feeling like I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

But then I had to look at her…and I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

I leaned back in my seat and forced myself to listen as Lewis droned on about the effectiveness of change of tempo in composing. It bored me. I didn’t need to be taught this crap.

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