Page 55 of Love Me Steadfast
Three outfits later, I’m dashing through the kitchen, my steps drowned by the music coming from the basement. They don’t sound too bad, actually. If I can keep them from bickering, maybe we can pull this off.
Dad’s just pulling into the driveway when I step outside.
When I climb into the passenger side, he flashes me his cheek and with a smile at our little ritual, I give it a peck. “How’s rehearsal going?”
“It’s going,” I say with a sigh.
“Finish that new song yet?”
Nerves chew at my tummy. “I have the notes, but the words aren’t quite there.”
“I’m available if you need to brainstorm.”
Dad still plays the piano and writes songs, though he rarely takes time for it. “Where do you get your inspo?”
He gives me a thoughtful glance. “It’s usually rooted in an emotion. Fear, joy, regret. Or it can be a moment that sticks out somehow. A conversation. Something unexpected.”
“You ever write love songs?” The second I say it, I wish I could take it back because he’s looking at me with more curiosity than I like.
“I have, yeah.” He cocks his head. “Something you want to share?”
I laugh this off but the butterflies that have been at rest inside my stomach take flight, ticklingup my chest. “No.”
Dad pulls into the school. “Theo can pick you up. One o’clock, right?”
“Right. Thanks for the ride.” I jump out and shut the door, then hurry toward the library. Pasting on a calm expression, I slip inside and force my eyes to meet Mrs. Hackney’s before searching for Will.
He's at our usual table, reading something from his phone which is held just above his lap but out of sight from the staff, though I should let him know that he’s not fooling anyone. His backpack is on the floor next to his chair, like he just got here. He’s dressed in his usual jeans and a Finn River Falcons hoodie and his hair looks damp, like he showered right before coming. Did he sleep in after partying after last night’s game? Who kept him company this time?
Quit it.
“Morning,” I say, keeping my voice low as I pull out the chair next to him.
“Hey,” Will replies, his eyes dark, unreadable.
“Sorry I’m a little late. Practice went on longer than I planned.”
He tucks his phone into his backpack. “Practice?”
A prickly heat rolls up my neck and face. I should have kept my mouth shut. “Side gig.”
“The band?” Curiosity brightens his expression. Could he be excited for me?
“Me and Morgan, yeah.”
His eyebrows arch up. “Wow, that’s great.”
“We’ll see.” I shrug, but the tension stays locked between my shoulder blades. “Right now we can’t even decide on a name, let alone what we’ll perform.”
“You guys already booking gigs, huh?” His smile turns smug.
“Just one, and it’s a gimme because…wait for it…Dad booked us.”
I expect him to tease me about this, but he holds my gaze. “Your dad wouldn’t have you guys playing in his club if he didn’t think you had what it takes.”
Logically this rings true. But what if we suck? What if we blow itthe night of the show? Not only will we have let people down, I’ll have failed Dad.
“When’s the show?” William asks.
