Page 17 of Guitars and Mistakes
I was not a naturally happy kid. I’d already realized how dark I was on the inside, and that nothing was going to change that. I’d stuck with Noah and Hudson but hadn’t really trusted that they would do any better than anyone else ever had. I’d thought they’d desert me just like my mom had.
They hadn’t. And somewhere along the way I’d learned to lean into them, too.
But Matt? He would always be the kid that had my back when no one else did. Even if he was way too good to hang out with someone like me.
“I’ll call you what I want,” Matt said, pulling me back into the conversation. His eyes darted to the exit and narrowed. “And what I want is to know what you’re doing. What the fuck is up with you the past week? You’ve disappeared on all of us and the level of scruff on your face is truly alarming.”
He brushed a fingertip over my 5 o’clock shadow, smirking, and I jerked back.
“I’m not in the mood.”
The smirk dropped off his face and his eyes got even narrower. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m your best friend and band mate, Rivers. I want to know what’s going on with you.”
What was going on with me. Right. I was fighting against falling for a girl I knew I couldn’t have and watching my band play with her every night. I could see her path laid out in front of her, from this small bar to the stadium tour, and knew that she had the brightest future possible. Unless I fucked it all up. Unless I let her fall for me and took her down into my darkness.
Got her canceled by Taylor.
Hell, got my whole band canceled by Taylor.
Not that I was going to tell Matt any of that. Sure, he was my best friend. That had never meant he got to have access to all the inner workings of my brain.
Though there was one thing I couldn’t hide from him.
“You know what the problem is. Think about it.”
Matt made a face. “You saw the itinerary. You knew we were coming to Missouri. Now you’re going to fuck everything up just because we’re here?”
I felt like a puppet whose strings had just been cut at the bald-faced mention of the place. Like I was a balloon that had just had a pin pushed into it. I wanted to sag against him, close my eyes, shut it out, but I knew that wouldn’t stop the voices in my head. The ones that said that being back in this state was going to bring all the bad in me to the forefront.
“That doesn’t mean I was ready. And you know exactly what I mean by that.”
“You guys okay?” another voice asked from my right.
I did close my eyes then, because the very person I didn’t want seeing me right now—the person I’d been trying to avoid—had evidently found me after all.
She put a hand on my arm before I could turn to face her and I cringed away, no doubt looking like I was disgusted by the fact that she’d just touched me. I glanced up just in time to see the hurt flitting across her face, the flash of tears at the edges of her eyes, and then she was gone, swinging around and running in the other direction like I’d just bitten her.
God, I basically had. She’d asked me if I was okay and I’d reacted like she was poison.
“You’re going to lose her,” Matt said softly, his face turned after her as well.
I snorted. “Haven’t you heard? That’s not real. She was never actually mine in the first place.”
I knew it wasn’t true. I’d seen her that first night and known immediately that she could be mine if I wanted her. I’d talked her into stealing a car with me, telling her that we’d return it. I’d made out with her in a hallway when she was wearing nothing more than a big t-shirt. Held her against me as she slept and breathed her in like some idiot from one of those movies girls were always watching.
I’d let myself open up to her.
And then I’d closed off again. Because it was better for her if she didn’t see the real me, and it was better for me if I didn’t get used to having someone like her around. So yeah, I was going to keep telling myself that she was never mine to lose in the first place.
She disappeared around a bend in the hallway with a flash of dark red hair, leaving nothing to show she’d even been there, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Then I turned back toward Matt and prepared to tell him exactly where he could stick all his concern about Missouri. Because he was right: There was a problem. And I already knew how I was going to solve it.
Regardless of how anyone else felt about it.
RIVERS
Iwoke up the next morning like I was going to war, my hands in fists and my blood rushing with adrenaline. I sat up quickly and nearly jumped out of bed, positive that there was somewhere I had to be or something I had to do—or run from. Once I glanced around the room, though, trying to figure out where the danger was, I started to calm down.
