“He’s here, but I don’t know that I’d call him okay. He looks like he’s been put through the wringer.” I finally found a quilt that my mom had made for me a couple of Christmases ago. It was made of a bunch of my dad’s old band t-shirts that featured all the different logos and designs from different tours and performances he’s put on through the years. It was totally nostalgic and personal. Even my dad had gotten choked up when he saw all the work and memories that had gone into the gift. I kept meaning to find somewhere in the new house to display it, but I always seemed to get distracted by other things. It was the story of my life. I had a hard time balancing my priorities and everything, even the most important things, tended to lose out to my music and the songs in my head and heart.
I tiptoed back to the couch and carefully placed the soft material over the prone body of the boy I told myself I wanted nothing to do with now that I was living my own life.
Daire sighed heavily on the other end of the call, and I could almost visualize the cute and concerned face she was making. The girl looked like a literal angel with her almost white hair and super pale skin. However, looks were very fucking deceiving in her case, because Ry’s little sister was a devil in disguise. She lived for mischief and fully lived up to her name. She wasn’t afraid of anything and often let her curiosity lead her into trouble. She was fearless and fierce in ways I was both scared of and admired.
“Aston broke up with him. I think it’s the first time in Ry’s life he’s ever faced any kind of rejection. He’s going to see it as an epic failure. I’m not surprised he’s falling apart. He can’t stand to lose, and I know he’s going to figure out a way to make this all about him and whatever he’s lacking. He won’t take two seconds to think about the fact that Aston is probably going through something pretty major or that this is just as hard for her. He’ll take all the blame and beat himself up forever.”
I sucked in a startled breath and made my way through the tiny house to my bedroom. I wasn’t planning on playing hostess tonight and practice had worn me out. I just wanted to crawl under my covers and sleep the whole dawning day away. “I can’t believe she dumped him. Those two are so much alike, I thought they would stay together forever. It took him forever to get Royce to agree to let him date his little sister. Ry put the work in.”
Aston Wheeler was as much of a perfectionist as Ry. The girl was literally flawless, which was why I didn’t really care for her. Or rather, it was just one more reason I was annoyingly jealous of her. I was too stubborn to admit that was really why I was standoffish and abrupt with her. I much preferred spending time with her older brother. Royce was an artist. He was quirky and sensitive, but also a badass when it came to protecting his little sister. He was a bit messy and irresponsible with everything in his life, including romance, which made it easy for me to relate to him. There was absolutely no reason rigid and unyielding Ry Archer was the boy I had a problem forgetting. If the universe was fair, I would’ve fallen for Royce all those years ago instead.
Daire sighed again. “She didn’t just break up with Ry; she also told him she’s going to college in California. She told him she wasn’t happy, and hadn’t been in a long time. It’s totally out of character for her. They’ve been together for two years, and he had no idea she was planning on moving out of state after graduation. She didn’t tell him anything. I think he was blindsided by that as much as the breakup. She didn’t even tell me she was applying out of state. All of this was news to me as well. I want to shake her.”
I let out a low whistle as I wrestled my boots off my feet. “I didn’t know she had it in her to be so secretive.” Aston seemed like such a sweet girl. I couldn’t imagine her keeping something so huge from not only the guy she was seeing, but also her bestie.
“She doesn’t. Which is why I’m sure there’s gotta be a reason behind her actions that neither Ry nor I know about. I’m worried about her, but my brother takes priority. He comes first, no matter what.” She made an amused sound that made me glare into my empty room before she asked, “Want to explain to me why, out of everyone he knows, and all his friends that live way closer than you do, he picked you to run to? Why did he go looking for you, Bowe? He ran from the girl he supposedly loved more than anything right to you.”
I threw myself back on my bed and practically growled, “I’ll talk to you later, Daire. I’ll make sure your brother calls you once he wakes up and gets back to his regular self.”
I hung up the call on the sound of her knowing laughter.
I tossed my cell toward the empty side of the bed and lifted my hands to rub my tired eyes. I was going to smear dark eye makeup all over my face, but couldn’t muster up the energy to care or rouse myself to wash it all off before bed. Instead, I pulled my comforter around me and stayed sideways across the mattress as my eyes drifted closed.
I thought I was finally breaking free from all the complicated relationships that had haunted me throughout my teenage years. I loved my parents. My dad was my hero, and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. He’d had a guitar in my hand and taught me how to play and write songs since the time I could understand what made music so magical. I had always known I wanted to pursue playing music instead of enrolling in college, much to my mother’s horror. Eventually, we’d come to a compromise after I failed my entire first semester. I only went to make her happy, which we both realized was a huge mistake.
It wasn’t that my brilliant mom was against me following in my father’s footsteps. It was more that she’d been with him through all the ups and downs of being a professional musician. She stayed with him when he had nothing and when pretty much everyone on the planet recognized his face. She knew how difficult it was to have a family and to keep a relationship together when one of the people involved gave half their heart to music and melodies. She reminded me repeatedly that I had to share my dad with all the people who made it possible for him to do what he loved for a living. I knew she just wanted my life to be a little easier than that. She wanted me to have a secure future. She didn’t want me to sacrifice, or go without the way she had when my dad was on tour for long stretches of time. She often reminded me how often it was just me and her, and the twins later on, when my father was away. I hated it growing up, but I understood the sacrifice now that I was older.
Music meant everything to me, and I was willing to do whatever it was going to take, to give up whatever I had to sacrifice, to make my mark the way my father had. I wanted to make both my parents proud, but more than that, I wanted to chase after my dreams and accomplish great things because they mattered to me, not because I just happened to have a famous father.
I often butted heads with my more pragmatic and reasonable mother, but I never doubted for a second that she would love and support me regardless of the path I chose for myself. She was actually the more understanding parent. Like when I started to put my foot down about being dragged to Denver. My family loved to get together with the friends and found family that had helped them not only get together, but stay together when times got tough. My parents were inexplicably close to the friends they’d lived and worked with when they were the age I was now. I understood they wanted the next generation to have the same kind of bonds and support system they had, but it wasn’t something that could be forced.