Page 67 of Wicked Ends
I gaped uncomprehendingly at her.
“She doesn’t need to move to LA to be a famous musician. She can live in NYC,” Kenna argued.
She popped a fry in her mouth, and when I tilted my head at her questioningly, nodded to Bill.
“He recorded your performance yesterday and put it on the school socials… It’s been blowing up. You’re a viral sensation.”
Cold dread slowly sank through me. I reached out and took the phone that Sally was holding out.
“I thought it might inspire some of our erstwhile students to practice more! I had no idea that it would gain so much traction.” Bill smiled at me. “Enjoy it, though, you deserve it.”
I watched the video. There I was, sitting at the piano, and there was Marcus, bending over me, seeming to fuss with the sheet music. The rest was hidden. Then, the playing started. I checked the views. It was already heading toward a million.
I clicked the comments and stiffened.
This woman is a star, where has she been hiding?
She’s amazing! I want a whole album of this.
Then I saw it. The kind of comment I dreaded.
Hey, swear I know that woman! She looks like Arianna Spencer—she was the one to watch in her graduating class, but she dropped off the face of the Earth. I guess she’s a teacher now.
I stared at Bill, aghast.
“What? Don’t you like it? It’s exciting,” Wade said.
I gripped my shaking hands together tightly. I’d always known I couldn’t hide forever. I’d had to get a job at some point. I had to work, to eat, to live. There’d been no other option, and yet, the thought of who might be watching the video turned my stomach. HHU was clearly mentioned. If anyone was watching for news of me, they’d have gotten it. Which meant they could be on their way here, right now. Whether my brother was dead or alive, it seemed he was destined to haunt me for the rest of my days, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
“It’s—it’s fine,” I managed to get out and smoothed a bland smile on my face.
Bill snorted and stared at his phone. “Just fine? I guess we have different definitions of the word.”
“Okay, I’m changing the subject,” Sally announced. “Are you coming to the alumni event?”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “No. Am I supposed to?”
She nodded emphatically. “All the staff usually attend, as well as anyone else outstanding at school. You have to go, and you have to wear something black tie.”
Great. Black tie. That was going to be a tricky find at Goodwill.
“We can get ready together if you want,” Kenna announced breezily. She’d tossed me a lifeline. “I’ve got so many formal dresses and nowhere to wear them. You can do me a favor and borrow something. My favorite girls never get to leave the house since the most glam thing I get asked out for around here is a hockey game or a coffee.”
I nodded, relieved that lunch was nearly over. I wanted to go back to my classroom and try to figure out what the hell I’d doif someone from my past showed up in Hade Harbor. Not if.When.
“I’ve got to prepare some stuff for class,” I rushed out, needing to be alone to get a grip on my spiraling anxiety. I pushed up and grabbed my tray. My lunch was largely untouched.
My friends blinked at me, clearly surprised by my sudden departure.
I gave them a wave, threw away my food, and scurried back to the music department.
My classroom was quiet and peaceful. Sunlight fell in dust-speckled beams through the high windows that ringed the room, casting a glow on the polished wood of the instruments lining the walls. I walked slowly down the stairs.
The fear that had plagued me since I’d walked into the classroom and seen Marcus was back, and thicker than ever. It was the fear of losing all of this, when I’d only just grasped it. A real life. A proper job. Playing music again. I sank down in my desk chair and put my hands on the table in front of me, clenching them a few times.
I couldn’t go back to the woman I’d been when I was living in California, and I couldn’t go back to being afraid every day… I was out of money and energy and fucking hope.
I sat there in the afternoon light, dust motes floating aimlessly in the air, relating to them more than I should. I didn’t want to blow from place to place anymore. I wanted to belong somewhere.
