Page 40 of Hard Rock Temptation
I’d always hated how Anya did that. Every time a conversation threatened to poke at one of her sore points, she’d turn it back around to focus on someone else. The others didn’t mind her deflecting in public, but I’d always worried about her not being able to open up, even to the band. Even to me. The only timeshe opened up was with her lyrics. I supposed we both had that emotional outlet in common.
“I know it was difficult for you for a while,” Anya continued.
“It was difficult for Micah, too,” I said.
“I suppose it was difficult for all of us,” she said thoughtfully. “But things will be better now. Less tense.” She picked up the pieces of fabric I’d thrown at her. “Are you making something?” she asked.
“Trying to,” I sighed.
“Ah, so the sigh wasn’t about Micah, it was about this,” she noted.
“I suck at buttons,” I complained. “I keep pricking my finger. And the thread keeps slipping out of the needle, and even when I do manage to sew on a button, it always comes loose.”
“Give it here,” she said.
I let Anya take the sewing project from my hands. It took her less than two minutes to sew on the buttons I’d been struggling with for half an hour. She handed me back the fabric. “There you go.”
I threw my arms around her, nearly knocking her over with anoof.
“You’re the best,” I said. “What would I do without you?”
“It’s no problem,” she said. “My mom taught me how to sew before she…” Anya trailed off, her shoulders tensing. “Anyway,” she said after clearing her throat. “You know I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
I squeezed Anya tight, putting all my feelings into the hug, knowing that she wouldn’t want to talk about her mother either, and wishing that she would.
“I appreciate it,” I said. “It’s not the kind of thing my mom would have ever thought to teach me,” I added quietly, huddling down into her arms.
“I know,” she said softly, patting my hair. “I’m glad to help.”
I’d never had a big sister, and as for my mom, well, the less said the better. If I hadn’t met Anya, if I hadn’t had her through my adolescence, I didn’t know what kind of person I’d be today.
I loved Micah, so,somuch, but Anya and the others had burrowed just as deep inside my heart.
“Thank you,” I said, pinpricks of tears beginning to sting the backs of my eyes.
“It’s just a button,” Anya said with a smile.
But the both of us knew it was about more than just that.
“Don’t forget you’ve got that interview this afternoon,” Anya said. “That’s what I really came in here to tell you. I can’t make it, but the label is sending a car to pick you up at three.”
“It won’t take me long to get ready,” I said.
Anya took the ends of one of my frizzy curls between two fingers and tweaked it.
“You’re not going to do something about this rat’s nest?” she teased.
“It’s a podcast, I don’t need to look perfect,” I replied.
“This podcast films their interviews so they can put clips online,” she said.
“What!” I yelped, jumping off the bed. “Crap. I need to fix my hair and makeup!”
“That’s what I’m telling you,” Anya laughed lightly. “Go get ready. You’ll want to look hot for Micah,” she added.
She turned to leave, but I stopped her.
“Anya…”
