Page 26 of Guitars and Mistakes
Even worse was the thought of doubting that the people who were supposed to take care of me loved me enough to do their jobs.
But Rivers...
God, he’d been deserted. His mom had left him there, and according to Matt he’d been old enough to remember it happening. Then he’d been passed from home to home, being mistreated in ways so horrible Matt wouldn’t even tell me what they were. The people whose job it had been to care for him had proven to him that they didn’t.
Again and again.
No wonder he had so much trouble accepting love when it presented itself to him. He’d been trained to believe he didn’t deserve it. People had been telling him since he was three that he didn’t deserve the good things in life.
My heart cracked clean down the center at the thought and I wished with everything in me that I could fly back in time to that little boy. Find him and hold him to me and tell him that everything was going to be okay and that I’d love him so much that it didn’t matter what anyone else did.
Which was insane, obviously. I was smart but I had never even thought about building a time machine.
Still.
Maybe I could still prove to him that he deserved better than he was giving himself.
I turned without saying anything else to Matt and ran from the room, my brain darting ahead of me to my room and already making plans. I didn’t know where Anna was but I was guessing she’d be at the party for much of the night, and that was perfect. It would mean I had the room to myself and plenty of peace and quiet.
Hopefully I’d also have plenty of luck.
Because I had some research to do, and given Rivers’ current mood I didn’t think I had a whole lot of time to do it.
RIVERS
The first thing I remembered the next morning when I woke up was what I’d done at the party.
The second thing I remembered was the look on Lila’s face after I finished my announcement. She’d looked both shocked and resigned, like she’d suspected I might do exactly this and couldn’t believe I was actually going through with it. Her cheeks had flushed, her eyes going from deep and sad to something a whole lot more determined. Like she wasn’t going to let me get away with what I’d already decided on doing.
Though I noticed she hadn’t come after me when I left.
I breathed out slowly at that, letting it hit me right in the heart. I hadn’t wanted the company—not when I’d already made up my mind to leave the tour and everything included in the music industry behind—but I had to admit that I’d thought she’d follow me. It was just soherto see a problem and be certain she could fix it. She’d been that way from the moment I met her, and though I hadn’t thought she could ever actually fix me, there was a small part of me that had evidently been hoping she’d keep trying.
Maybe even that she’d succeed.
That part had died last night, though, when it waited around outside for an hour before finally realizing that she wasn’t going to show up. I didn’t know why she’d stayed inside. Maybe she’d realized that she couldn’t save me no matter how much she tried. Or maybe she’d just come to the conclusion that I didn’t want to be saved—that I was on my way to the bottom, where I’d always known I’d end up, and that I wasn’t going to accept anyone trying to stop me.
Though I guessed there was a possibility that it wasn’t about me at all. She may have just realized that she had better things to do with her time. Or that she didn’t care enough about me to keep trying.
I jerked out of bed, hating the thought, and put it sharply to the side. Why was I even thinking about her? Why did I care if she’d decided she didn’t want to save me?
I didn’t need saving.
I didn’t care about her.
She was better off without me. In fact, I was glad if she’d realized that. Maybe now she could move on with her life and do something worth her time.
It wasn’t my problem.
Today, I had other things to do.
* * *
I lookedout across the group of smiling faces and found myself grinning in a way I hadn’t smiled in a long time. God, I loved this part. Every time I went on tour I did my research ahead of time, cataloging the cities we’d be in and then searching for orphanages and group homes in the area. Most small towns didn’t have them, but every so often we played a city big enough to host these sort of establishments, and when we did, I got to do my favorite part of the job.
“So where are you taking them?” one of the employees asked, her voice hushed.
I turned to see an older lady, her face lined by what I knew had to be a trying job full of stress, and gave her my most charming smile. Her eyes immediately went glossy with that starstruck look I knew so well.
