Page 93 of The Friend Game

Luke gives him an appreciative nod, then speaks into the microphone.

Chapter 36

“HI, EVERYONE,” HE says, and I note that his voice lacks its usual confidence. He runs his hands nervously across his jeans. “Gosh, you know I’m a pastor so I do this public speaking stuff all the time, I shouldn’t be so nervous.” He lets out an uneasy laugh. “But I am because I messed something up really badly with someone earlier tonight and this is my rather pathetic attempt at trying to make that up to them.”

A few “awwws” fill the space as some of the women in attendance express their thoughts on what he’s doing. I want to tell them all to shut up so Luke can get on with whatever he’s about to do. Is this really even happening? Maybe my imagination has just taken off with me again. I pinch myself in the arm then wince. Yes, this is real.

I sit up straighter in my chair, trying to tell my body not to get its hopes up. Maybe he just wantsto apologize for kissing me after breaking up with me. This doesn’t mean he’s changed his mind.

“So,” Luke goes on lifting the mic out of its stand, “someone once told me that real love songs should reflect the work someone is willing to put into a relationship. That love isn’t just about the emotions you get swept away in, it’s about commitment and letting someone know you’d do anything to be with them.” I sit frozen, unable to believe what I’m hearing. He said love, right? Everybody else heard that too?

“So, with that in mind,” like he’s been aware of exactly where I am this whole time, Luke’s eyes find mine, “Hannah Garza, this song is for you.”

My heart is beating so loudly in my ears that I barely hear the opening notes of The Proclaimers’ song that Luke caught me singing in my car so many months ago: “I’m Gonna Be”.

“I’m gonna,” he croons, and for a second the sweetness of what he’s doing is lost in the fact that his middle school choir teacher might not have been wrong…Luke’s voice is well…not the best...but then he keeps going, and I stop caring that his voice could double as a sound effect for a dying bird. He starts dancing as he sings, moving his body to the beat as he sings about waking up next to me. He stops singing all of the sudden, missing the next stanza. “Just a quick note,” he tells everyone, “since I ama pastor, after all: I don’t plan on waking up next to you unless we get married.”

A couple of people in the crowd laugh, but Luke just hops back into the song. “Get drunk,” he sings, then stops once more. “Again,” he says, “I’m a pastor, so I won’t get drunk with you, but the point of the stanza remains. I will drink a beer with you, sure. Non-alcoholic just as a personal choice. Or maybe a Shirley Temple, if you’d prefer. ”

More laughter from the crowd, and now I’m laughing too. Joy and humor intermingling so that my chest feels like it might explode with happiness.

“Haver?” Luke squints at the lyric screen. “What does that mean?” He runs a hand through his hair. “That might be for after marriage too.” Someone in the audience lets out a wolf-whistle and there’s even more laughing as he moves into the chorus.

I’m still sitting stunned in my seat, not quite able to believe that Luke is here, singing in front of a room of people–for me. Me!

Still, a cloud starts to overshadow the sunny happiness I’d been feeling as the ugliness of the rest of the night settles back over me.

“Hannah,” Jill hisses in my ear, “are you really just going to sit there and watch the man?”

I blink at her. Should I go up there? Part of me is shouting,“Yes! Girl, go get your man!”But another part of me is still confused. Only two hoursago Luke said he needed to focus on his job, that he’d asked God if he should keep pursuing a relationship with me despite all of the difficulties we’d already faced and he hadn’t heard back.

So what changed?

Because I think that I need an explanation.

Now, IknowI need one.

I want to be with Luke, but I need to know that he won’t change his mind about me again.

I can’t go through this a second time.

Luke has made it through the refrain, proclaiming for all the piano bar to hear that he would walk a grand total of 1,000 miles to get to me. Ironically I just want him to walk across the fifteen feet separating us.

Almost as if he senses this, Luke moves to the edge of the stage as he continues singing, then crouches low, placing a hand flat on the stage before hopping off onto the main floor of the bar.

Despite how very off-key he is, the people still love this choice. A woman comes rushing forward shouting that he can come home to her if I don’t take him back.

“Sorry, I’m taken,” he pauses his singing to tell her, then continues moving through the crowd. He stops in front of our table just as he reaches the part about growing old with me and tears spark in my eyes, blurring my vision. At the sight Luke’s voice falters, and he misses the change to the refrain completely.

“Um, I’ll take that,” Jill announces, reaching over and grabbing the microphone from Luke and shooting a glance my way. “You two should talk.” She hops right into the song, heading back to the stage, lifting one hand up and down over her head to keep the crowd invested. At first there are some boos–they wanted to see what happened between me and Luke–but Jill wins them over quickly enough in her Jill way. Turns out she really can spin any room.

“Can we talk?” Luke asks me, his voice low. I don’t answer. “I know I don’t deserve any more of your time,” he says in response to my silence, “but if you could find it in your heart to give me just a few minutes more. I have so much to say to you. I-I was such an idiot before.”

“You can say that again,” Belinda interjects.

Right. Maybe I will go with him. I’m not sure whether or not Luke will say the things I need to hear, but either way I’d prefer not to have an audience for this conversation.

“Um, yeah, we can talk,” I say. I wince inwardly as I get to my feet, remembering that I’m not exactly looking my best. I set the mascara tube down on the table regretfully.

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