Page 17 of Wicked Rockstar

I nodded, already admiring the message on her t-shirt, “Reading is dreaming with your eyes open.”

“Can you press six for me?” She looked down at the box in her hands, and I noticed the Red’s Sweet Salvation logo. Then her eyes rose to the already lit button. “Oh, do you live on the sixth floor, too?”

I nodded as the doors whooshed shut, enclosing me in the small space with my new neighbor.

“I’m Ana,” she said, her smile warm and inviting. “I live in 610. What about you?”

“612,” I replied, surprised to hear my voice steady despite the emotional turmoil churning inside me. “Trissa.”

The scent of sugar and warm chocolate wafted from the bakery box in Ana’s hands, a stark contrast to the lingering traces of Killian’s cologne that still clung to my clothes.

If we were going to be living next door to each other, I should at least try to make conversation. It had been so long since I’d made a new friend that this type of small talk felt awkward as it spilled from my mouth. “I’ve been wanting to try that bakery. I didn’t know they were open so late.”

“Well.” She jiggled the box. “My friend Wren is friends with the owner, Ruby. Well, I guess she’s also my friend since we’ve been hanging out too. We have a book club meeting every other Wednesday, and tonight our location was at the bakery.”

My bad mood instantly lifted at the mention of a book club. I’d always wanted to join one.

“Book club?”

Ana’s eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy. “Yes! You should come with me sometime. There are nine of us. Well, ten, if my sister Elsie is in town.” She was moving around as she talked, and I feared she might drop the cake. “We drink wine. Or not wine, if you don’t drink. We talk about the books, but it’s also just a cool time to hang out and chat. We typically read steamy romances. Do you like romance—?” Ana abruptly stopped.

“What?” I asked, slightly afraid I might have offended her in some way. She’d been speaking a little fast, but with so much enthusiasm, I was curious what her next sentence would be.

“I’m so sorry. I’m totally talking your ear off, and you looked exhausted when I got on the elevator.” She was so sweetly observant.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened on our floor. We stepped out and continued down the hall to our apartments.

“It’s fine. I’m just having a weird night, you know?” I shrugged, not sure what else to say to a girl I’d just met and secretly hoped to become friends with someday.

“I get it.” She stopped, and I realized we were in front of her door.

I shifted from one foot to the other, feeling the pinch of my high heels. “Well, it was nice to meet you. Hopefully, we run into each other again soon.”

“So… ” Ana’s eyes darted to her door and then to me. “This might be a bit too fast, but I noticed you looked a little sad on the way up … I have this insanely good lava cake here, and if you want, I don’t mind sharing it, and we can hang out a little longer and talk.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t used to making girlfriends so quickly, yet despite that, I found myself drawn to Ana’s easy-going nature. Part of me wanted to retreat to the safety of my apartment, to sit with my confusion and anxiety in private, but something in Ana’s eyes—a genuine warmth— made me pause.

“I’m sorry. Am I freaking you out? My sister says I try to make friends with everyone and then get my feelings hurt when they think I’m a little too much.”

Her raw honesty appealed to me. “I’d love to.” The words tumbled out before I could second-guess them. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, and I quickly ran into my apartment, threw on a pair of leggings, and an old worn band t-shirt that I couldn’t part with. It was one Killian and Peter had made for their band, Neverland.

I knocked on Ana’s apartment door before I could change my mind. I felt like I was five years old awkwardly trying to make a friend on the playground.

She opened the door, her answering grin immediately putting me at ease. Her place was a cozy haven of mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves. Soft lamplight created a warm glow over everything.

“Hi.”

“Make yourself at home.” Ana gestured to a plush armchair adorned with a crochet throw. “I’ll grab some plates and maybe some white wine?”

I nodded gratefully. “Wine sounds perfect.”

As Ana busied herself in the kitchen, I found my gaze drawn to a collage of photos on her wall. Smiling faces of what I assumed were her friends and family looked back at me. A pang of longing hit me—my walls were bare, save for a single photo of me, Peter, and Killian in our group home days and one with Peter’s sister, Jane. Which reminded me, I hadn’t talked to Jane in a while and should call to say hi.

As I settled into Ana’s cozy armchair and kicked off my shoes, I sighed with pleasure as they landed on the floor. My phone buzzed again, and I glanced at it, surprised to find that I was hoping to see Killian’s name. But instead, it was another text from Peter.

PETER

---