Page 18 of His Sound
I have this weird urge to go check on Molly, like I’m her babysitter or her big brother or something. She’s an adult woman, though, and I don’t have any actual reason to believe she’s unsafe right now. We’re strangers to each other, and she doesn’t need me barging in on her life.
I start getting antsy and reach into my pocket to getmon truc.
“Câlice,” I swear, when all my fingers reach is the bottom of the pocket. “Molly has my ball.”
Matt’s just taken a big sip of beer and almost spits his drink out. Kay thumps him on the back while everyone else laughs.
“Do you mean she has youbythe balls?” Ace asks with a smirk.
I glare at him. “Ben non, I mean I droppedmon trucin her room.”
“Ton truc?” Stéphanie questions, squinting in confusion.
“Yeah,” Ace answers for me, “his ball.”
He and Matt nod like the situation is clear now. Stéphanie and Kay share a look.
“You guys are so fucking weird,” Kay states.
Matt slides an arm around her waist. “Yeah, but you girls love it.”
“I’m gonna go find Molly and ask her to look for my ball when she gets home,” I announce.
Everyone roars with laughter at that. I leave Molly’s beer in Kay’s care and flip them all the bird as I cross the room. I get over to the entrance to the bathrooms, where I wedge myself in between Molly and the drunk guy.
“Hey,” I greet her. “You get lost on your way back to the bar? Allow me to lead you to your beer.”
“Oh, uh, thanks,” she stammers, eyes going wide at my sudden appearance. “I was just talking to...”
We both glance at where Drunk Guy was just standing and find him a few feet away, doing some kind of hula dance for a group of girls all killing themselves laughing at his hip thrusts.
“I think that conversation is over,” I announce.
She exhales heavily. “Thank god. I didn’t know how I was going to escape him. I think he was trying to tell me he owns a motorcycle, but I’m not sure. He kept making engine noises and doing this weird thing with his hands.”
There’s a beat of silence before we both burst out laughing. I slouch down a little further on the wall.
“Besides Mr. Hell’s Angel, are you having a good night?” I ask her. “I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured into coming with us.”
She shakes her head so fast I’m surprised she doesn’t hurt her neck. “No. Nope. Not at all.”
I can’t help smiling. It’s kind of cute, the way she gets so nervous.
“Okay. Good.”
I let the silence drag. Molly twists a strand of hair around her finger, eyes wandering through the bar. She looks like she’s working up the courage to say something. Sure enough, after another moment of silence between us, she speaks. Her voice is quiet and halting, but she speaks.
“It’s like nothing else, isn’t it? Live music, that is. Sometimes when you’re at a show, all high on the noise and the lights, anything seems possible, you know? It’s like you can be someone else.”
“You don’t have to be somebody else.”
Her gaze snaps to mine the second the words leave my mouth. I didn’t plan on saying them out loud, but something has slipped into her expression, some sort of pain that brings out lines and creases in skin that doesn’t deserve to be anything but smooth, and I know she needed to hear those words.
“Seriously,” I urge, “we all like having you here. You don’t have to worry about pulling someCendrillonshit.”
She makes a face. “Cendrillon?”
“Yeah. It’s French for, uh...you know, that Disney movie? With the pumpkin? And the shoe?”
