Page 45 of Shattered Chords

Renn cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one could hear her speak. “One day, she came home from her lesson and told Camille she didn’t want any more tutors. Poor thing never explained why.” Renn’s tone grew serious. “I think the imbecile said something inappropriate to her.”

“How do you know?”

“A woman knows these things.”

“Right.” I nodded, schooling my expression into one of understanding, but what I really felt was…anger.

“Ally’s a good girl,” Renn added.

“She’s great,” I agreed.

Our chat was interrupted by a loud horde of teens approaching the table, and we had to move to the side.

Before I knew it, Renn was called away and I was alone.

The details of this conversation had left a bad aftertaste in my mouth. Was it because I, in general, understood that whatever happened to Ally was wrong or because I suddenly cared about what was going in the life of a person I hardly knew?

A feeling resembling a blend of guilt and shame darted through my chest as I took shy steps in the direction of the park with my plate in hand.

Ally was alone. She sat next to a tree trunk with her legs crossed and her plate beside her. The only kid in all black among a sea of colors. It was self-inflicted—her anger and desire to stand out from the crowd.

“Got room for one more?” I asked, carefully approaching her.

She lifted her head and stared up at me with her big, heavily shadowed eyes. “Sure.” A smile spread to her cheeks, warm and innocent.

I flopped onto the grass next to her and gave a wave to Camille, who was watching us from the table she shared with Harper across the lawn.

“No wonder you’re so skinny.” Ally scowled at my plate.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered, plucking a blade of grass from the ground.

“Okay.”

“I can’t eat anything here.”

“Are you on a diet or something?”

“Yeah, something.”

“Is it because of your overdose?”

I nodded. “Remember when I got you your guitar, I said I had a condition?”

“Yeah, but you never said what it was.”

“Don’t ever do drugs.”

Blinking, Ally glared at me for a long moment. Thin streaks of sunlight that broke through the leaves slashed her cheeks. “What are you, my father?” A crooked grin curved one side of her mouth.

“No. I’m just looking out for you, kid.” I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her old man. Was he in the picture? Or was he what Camille called a drive-by? The question had been haunting me for a while now, but I refrained from asking it.

“Why is everyone calling me a kid?” Ally protested, rolling her eyes.

“Trust me, ten years from now, you’ll be wishing you were a kid,” I muttered, squeezing the soft grass in my palm. My gaze trailed off, sliding from one cluster of people to another. Despite the heat, they seemed content, chipper even.

“So…” Ally drawled. “You asked my mom out?”

I leaned toward her and whispered, “I don’t think she likes me.”

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