Page 2 of The Comeback

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I grab my soy flat white and Dax’s tea from the pretty barista behind the counter at the best campus coffee shop. The sleek black bun on her head gives me hairdo envy. As hard as I try, there are always loose tendrils escaping my ponytail. She thanks me with a warm smile.

Dax somehow snagged us one of the comfy couches in the corner. Students crowd the spacious café, sitting on every available surface, socializing after a summer apart. Pretty soon they’ll be typing on their laptops and scribbling in notebooks, but for now everyone is smiling and chatting as they catch up. I place our mugs on the low wooden table and flop onto the orange couch next to my friend. It sinks under my weight with a creak that tells the story of thousands of students wearing it down over the years.

He gives me a sympathetic look. “How you doing?”

“I can’t believe you still don’t drink coffee. After three years, have I taught you nothing?” I pick up my bright yellow mug, inhaling the magical scent of the hot bean water. As a rule, non coffee drinkers are sus, but Dax wormed his way into my heart before I knew what a tea drinking freak he was.

“Don’t try to deflect the question. I know it must have been hard seeing Connor and Lauren.”

I heave out a sigh. “It sucks. He sucks, she sucks, but neither of them is worth my time.” It’s all true, but that doesn’t take away the ache. Especially when they’re both in most of my classes and therefore have plenty of opportunities to rub it in my face. I wish I could travel back in time to warn two-years ago Abby not to date a classmate. It’s like actors who get together on a film set. Never ends well.

His hand rubbing up and down my arm soothes the ache a little. “Well, you’ve got the rest of the year to find someone much more worthy of your love. And once we steal the Hastings out from under their noses, he’ll regret losing you as a partner. His loss is my gain, though. Together, we’re gonna kill this.”

He’s right. Well maybe not about winning. Not with this new twist. But he’s right about finding someone better. Although, screw that. Who needs guys. They’re all lying, cheating assholes. Maybe I sound bitter, but it hasn’t been that long. Give me a bit to wallow in angry feminist music and rail against anyone with a penis. I’m sure I’ll get over it. Maybe sometime next decade? Feels too soon. Century?

I’m better off with Dax as a partner, anyway. He’s a crazy talented singer, so I can play the piano and he can sing. Connor was already pressuring me last year to sing, and I always had a hard time saying no to him. I have zero problem slipping behind a piano to play for crowds, but putting myself in the spotlight and singing in front of others leads to bad things.

“Ok, let’s check out the details and sign up.” He flips open his laptop, bringing up the website while I scan the crowded coffee shop. I wince when a couple of muscular guys swagger in, breathing a sigh of relief when I don’t recognize them. There’s no logical reason I should still tense up when I spot the hockey guys around, but I do. I’ve managed three years of school without running into him. The other him. I’m sure I can make it one more year. It’s not like we hang out in the same circles. The jocks and the performing arts crowd are worlds apart. As they always were back in high school.

Ugh. High school was not my time to shine, so I’d rather pretend it never happened. I focus back on the laptop.

“The competition is scheduled for February 16th and the theme is…” Dax taps out a drumroll on his denim-clad legs before announcing, “duets!” He falters on the word, glancing at me with wide eyes.

“What? Let me see that.” I snatch the offending computer out of his lap, my stomach sinking to my toes. They’ve changed the rules. Each partner has to sing and play an instrument in addition to the songwriting. “There’s got to be an exception or something, right?” My heart kicks into overdrive as I frantically scroll through the rules and FAQs, searching for a loophole. Something, anything to get me out of singing in public. Just thinking about it has me wiping sweaty palms on my leggings. I need this. I need this win to get my foot in the industry, and the prize money doesn’t hurt.

I groan. “What am I going to do?”

Dax grabs my hand, squeezing it in his warm grip. “We are going to destroy it. You have the voice of an angel, Abs. Not to mention the fingers of a devil.” He puts emphasis on the we.

“Was that some sort of innuendo there? If so, your pickup lines could use some work.” I crinkle my nose.

He barks out a laugh, shifting in his seat. “No. I meant like, you know, Dueling Banjos, only with pianos. You could totally take down the devil on the black and whites.”

“You know Dueling Pianos is already a thing, right? You didn’t just make that up right now.”

“Well shit. There goes my million-dollar idea. I guess we do have to win the Hastings.”

I groan at the reminder. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t run off the stage to puke, or worse, puke all over the stage. Oh my god. What if I hurl on stage in front of everyone? That’s a career ender.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not hurling. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“Maybe you should find another partner. It’s not fair of you to be stuck with me and my crippling stage fright.” If I can’t do it with my best friend, there’s no way I could get through it with anyone else.

“I would never do that to you. We got this.” His fingers fly over the keyboard. “There. Done. We’re signed up. No backsies.”

My stomach pitches and I eye my coffee with sorrow. I seem to have lost my appetite, even for that most perfect of all beverages.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Do I take the longest possible path around the edge of the tables to exiting into the student center to avoid the hockey dudes sitting by the door? Maybe. Do I regret it? No. A printed poster with a familiar ring on it catches my eye. On impulse, I pull off a tag with the time and date on it.

“What’s that?” Dax catches up, eying the paper in my hand curiously.

“Don’t be nosy. A girl is entitled to her secrets.”

“I’ll allow it, but you’ve reached your quota for the month.”

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