It was like something out of a swashbuckling romance.
There was no apology. After the heartbreaking beginning, it shifted to defiance and growth. But the music beneath the words added so much to the story. It was stunning.
This was the song she didn’t want to release?
I listened to the two other songs that had been leaked. One was a fairly scathing satirical statement on religion. The last one was sexy and sensual and also definitely about being with women—the plural quite intentional.
Geez Louise.Fuckme.
This was the kind of song that would probably make sapphics everywhere flock to see Kestrel perform just so they could throw their underwear at her or something. I was still in my car. If I looked behind me, I would see where Courtney had basically done to me what she described doing in the song—though in a more metaphorical, poetic, and clever way.
Courtney had put her soul into these songs. How could she have been trying to decide to quit? I knew Courtney well enough—not just in the carnal way—to hear the poorly concealed anguish in her voice when she talked about quitting.
Had she just been scared about the reception to the songs?
The brief overheard conversation replayed itself as a series of small snippets.
“She’s a put-down-roots person. How can I tell her I’m going to be gone for months and months?”
Basically a nicer way of saying I lived in a much smaller world than Courtney.
But still, how could Courtney think so little of me after everything we had shared the last few days?
Even if what I had overheard wasn’t the whole story of how Courtney felt, what if it was partly true? Her anxiety about me must be real. Could Courtney be considering giving up on a part of who she was because she thought I couldn’t handle her being a rock star or going on tour? Did I truly seem like the sort of person who would ask someone as talented as Courtney to be less than she was?
Maybe I had said too much about wanting to create a new life here.
Maybe that’s why she thought I wouldn’t understand the choice she needed to make right now.
Holy bajesus. This record would be huge for her career. She might not even be able to stop the momentum no matter what she did if the reception over the last hour was any indication. No wonder Courtney was so gutted about being too panicked to perform. That must be why Samantha got her the psilocybin. All this was a much bigger deal than I could’ve possibly imagined.
I headed inside.
Marshall’s keys weren’t in the bowl by the door. Maybe he went to his dad’s house?
I shot him a quick text before heading down the hall to my room. Given that Courtney had never been in my room, it was almost alarming the number of things I had accumulated in a few months that reminded me of her.
The pile of romance books on the nightstand.
The sweatshirt I’d stolen yesterday.
The flyer for the book club I had pinned up to a small bulletin board over my desk. The shirt I had to wash six times to get rid of the ferret pheromones.
After I was ready for bed, freshly showered with pajamas on, tears welled in my eyes. I wasn’t even sure why I was so upset, but I blinked and my mind was back in those bare-skin moments beneath a sky too cloudy to see stars.
“Courtney Starling?”
“Yes, Thea Quinn.” Courtney kissed my nose.
“If I tell you something crazy, will you promise not to laugh?”
“Promise.”
“What would you say if I fell in love with you?” Courtney’s eyes were smiling, but something else was behind those warm green irises. Fear.
“I’d say you deserve someone a little less battered and lost.”
“Baby, no one’s too battered or lost to be loved.”