Page 6 of A Love Song for Dreamers

She doesn’tanswer.

“I can hear you,” I taunt as I head back in to find Beck seated on thecouch.

“Dammit. Even the part where I made out with yourgirl?”

I narrow my gaze on him. “Try it and you’ll lose more than ahand.”

He chuckles. “I talked to your profs about getting extensions on your term projects.” He runs me through the list of accommodations they’ve made for me. “Even printed out your study notes forfinals.”

“Thanks,” I say, and mean it. “I’ll get to iteventually.”

I rise and go to the kitchen, where Annie’s looking over her shoulder atme.

“You don’t want to take a look today?” she says. “You must be getting sick of watchingNetflix.”

“Doesn’t seem so urgent.” I survey the bowl of marshmallows and box of Rice Krispies cereal someone must’ve brought, because I’m pretty sure they weren’t in the hotelcupboards.

“This, though—this is a priority.” She smiles. “Here, lemmehelp.”

I take the bowl and stick the marshmallows and butter in the microwave. When I grab a spatula and turn, I bump into her, jostling my arm. I hiss out a breath ofpain.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “You should sitdown.”

“I can microwavemarshmallows.”

“Evidently you can’t, bro,” Beckcalls.

Every muscle in my torso tightens, but I grab my coffee and sink into the chair across fromBeck.

I watch Annie make the squares as Beck catches me up on stuff fromschool.

“This is a nice place,” he says after a few minutes. “Zeke’s taking care ofyou.”

Annie comes over and sets a plate of squares on the table. “He knows you’re going to recover. There are options for reconstruction. The doctor said so himself, andphysio—”

“Physio won’t do shit when what’s in my hand is sliced in two,” Istate.

Annie and Beck are quiet while I take a bite of a square. It tastes familiar, but everything else haschanged.

“You’re still a musician,” Annie says. “This doesn’t change that. Zeke believes inyou.”

“He gets a paycheck when people bring in money, which I don’t see me doing. He has a tour leaving in ten days, and if I can’t play, there’s no way the invite stillstands.”

My voice has a new edge. The anger’s not directed at Annie, but shestiffens.

Beck looks between us before rising from his seat. “I’ll leave you guys to it. One for theroad?”

I don’t say anything as Beck takes a treat andleaves.

Once the door’s closed, I shove out of the chair and say what we’re boththinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m being anasshole.”

I drop onto the couch, and Annie shifts onto the arm, tucking her feet up in front of her as she watchesme.

“It’s understandable,” she sayssoftly.

“It’s not. None of this isunderstandable.”

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