Page 38 of Rise of the Melody
I sniffled and pulled myself together. “Yes.”
“Mm. So Bryant knows.” Another sigh. “Visit me anytime. Your aunt knows where to find me.”
“I will,” I promised her. “Thank you. I know my aunt doesn’t want to hurt me with stories like this, but I need to know. I appreciate this.”
She nodded in agreement. “When you visit, I like cookies.”
I laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
She was nimble for her three hundred years, walking away and giving CooShee a nod. No cane or limping for her.
I wasn’t as agile or sprightly on my way back home, which was all uphill. The fatigue in my body was matched by my dark mood after that story. The truth of my family history was a heavy burden—one I would have to carry every day of my life. One I was still living.
As I passed the corner of the street where French Quarter Roast was, I could hear the jazz music and voices from within. Everyone was probably inside, but at that moment I didn’t feel like I would ever fit in. Not the real me. They only liked the fake me. It was freaking sad. I didn’t want to be gloomy, but I was probably going to spend the day feeling sorry for myself and my kin before I’d get back to business.
“Letty! Hey!”
Oh, crap. I turned and saw a petite redhead bounding toward me. Clare. She was like a little ray of sunshine blasting into my gloomy cloud.
She looked at CooShee and said, “Oh, hey, CooShay!” She giggled at the way he glared before grasping my hand. “We’re all inside! I saw you through the window and was like, ‘Oh, my gosh!’ Come hang out?”
Against my better judgment and everything I’d just felt, I couldn’t help but be flattered by her desire to hang out with me. It was really sweet. And I realized just how desperate I was to have friends, even if they didn’t know the full me. I felt like a dog excited for scraps. But those scraps…they tasted good.
“Okay,” I said.
“Nice bike,” she told me. “You can just leave it here.” She pointed at the corner.
“I don’t have a chain for it.”
At this, she laughed. “It’ll be fine.” Oh, yeah. Safe town. Cute. She practically dragged me inside through the wrought iron seating area as I held out CooShee’s leash for him to follow us.
The back corner cheered when we walked in, and I realized with horror I wasn’t wearing any makeup. Not even my red lips! I locked up for a second, wanting to run back, but Clare tugged me on. Ugh, I probably looked twelve years old with my round face, ruddy cheeks, and freckled nose. At least my clothes were all black.
“Look who’s here! Looking all adorable with her fresh face.” Teague’s words had my cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment. I saw Nora and Shani share eyebrows-up glances then peer over at a girl at the table who’d I’d never seen before. She rolled her eyes, and I wondered what was up.
“Hey, everyone,” I said, smiling first at Teague.
The girl was a tall brunette. She watched me greet everyone with her arms crossed. When I met her eyes she said, “I’m Mairi Barclay.” She pronounced it May-ree.
Barclay! “Are you related to Iona Barclay?”
She made a face I couldn’t decipher. “Yeah. My granny. Why?”
“I just met her down at the marina.”
“Yikes,” the girl drawled. “I hope she didn’t say anything too embarrassing.”
“No, she was great.”
She gave me a skeptical look, likeif you say so. I forced a smile, not a fan of her vibe. I’d kill to have a cool, ancient grandma like hers.
Chrystamos pulled out the chair next to him and motioned to it, keeping his arm around the back when I sat down. He was undeniably sexy and smelled even better, but I was determined not to fall for his charms. When he ran the back of a finger over my cheek and said, “You’re so peachy,” I batted his hand away and he laughed.
“Hands to yourself!” Shani yelled at him across the table. “Don’t scare her off.”
He held his hands up. “I’m sorry! She’s just all flushed and stuff.” He put his fingertip close to my face and said in a funny clown voice, “Want to touch the pretty.”
“Ew, Chrys,” said Nora. “Not the creepy voice.”
