Now that Lola had mono there would be no more Friday night sleepovers for quite a while. That idea sent me reeling. Not only would I be missing my best friend at school and the competition, but it also meant I’d have to spend my weekends at home . . . alone.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I fought them back. I would not cry. Not at school where everyone would see me. I wasn’t sure my classmates’ opinions of me could get any lower, but I wasn’t taking that chance.
I found a seat near the front of the bus and clutched my backpack to my chest, trying my hardest to stave off my surge of emotions.
I couldn’t do it.
I knew myself; I was one hiccup away from sobbing. Lola was my backbone. Without her, I was crumbling.
I pulled my phone from my bag and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Layne?”
“I can’t do this,” I said, my voice cracking.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong! How can you even ask that? My entire world is crumbling because you kissed a stupid baseball player! And now I’m crying on the school bus and I’m not going to go to college and, and . . . I just want to give up.”
“Layne, listen to me. First of all, you need to stop crying. Remember rule number one.”
“Screw the rules!”
Lola inhaled sharply. “I know you’ve had a bad day so I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. What’s rule number one, Layne?”
“Never let them see you cry.”
“That’s right. Now take a deep breath.”
I did.
“Okay, listen to me. I know this sucks. It’s not what I wanted either, but you can’t give up, Layne.”
“I don’t want to give up. Going to school for music is my dream, but without this scholarship it’s not going to happen.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do, Lola. My mom doesn’t have money to pay for college. We barely have money to pay rent.”
“That’s all the more reason not to give up. You just need to find someone else to sing your songs.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. Talk to Mrs. Baker. There’s got to be some theater kids that could help you out.”
“The competition is in two weeks, Lola. Even if I could find someone, I don’t know if they could learn my songs on such short notice.”
“Then why don’t you sing them?”
“You know I can’t.”
“That’s not true. You have a great voice. You’ve got to get out of your head and stop letting fear control you.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not afraid of anything.”
“Not true. I’m totally afraid of kissing now.”
“I hate you.”
Lola laughed. “No, you don’t.”
“I know. I just really miss you. What am I going to do without you?”
“You’re going to work your butt off and find someone to sing your amazing songs.”
“I’m not talking about the competition.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean school, life, everything. It’s our senior year. We were supposed to do it together.”
“We will. As soon as I get back, we’ll resume our best year ever!”
I sighed, knowing it was no use trying to explain it to Lola. She’d never been invisible, so she couldn’t understand just how long these next four weeks would be.
Chapter Six
Wyatt
I closed my eyes, but still I couldn’t block out the sorrow in her voice. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on her conversation, but of course the universe had made sure Layne Hall sat directly in the bus seat in front of me.
I slouched down and pulled my hat lower. I didn’t want to be caught dead on the school bus, but worse still would be getting caught listening in on this sad conversation. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve blamed this convenient run-in on my mother, but not even she could control fate.
This kind of bad karma was all on me.
It didn’t help knowing one of my teammates was to blame for Layne’s predicament. I knew exactly who the culprit was—Mark Jennings. He was a total player. He’d been boasting about making out with both Lola and some other girl from Collier Prep last weekend. I only hoped he’d at least gotten mono, too.
Mark was everything I despised, but sadly everything I’d been emulating to fit in with the jock culture at Northwood.
I’d hoped to have a fresh start here. I thought I could reinvent myself at a school where no one knew me or my family ties. And when I joined the baseball team, I had. But truthfully, I wasn’t sure I liked who I was becoming much more than who I’d been. Despite my popularity at Northwood, I still felt insecure and even more alone than I had in London or New York.
And yes, I realized how ironic it was to say I felt lonely in such massive cities but join my family for a day and you’d understand.
Layne’s voice caught my attention again.
“I’m not going to find a new singer, Lola. It’s over. It’s better if I just accept that now.”
I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but as I watched Layne’s reflection in the filmy school bus window, I guessed it wasn’t going well. She wiped tears from her cheeks, and I had to look away.
Tears gave me the chills. Watching people cry was my equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Especially watching girls cry. It made me queasy, and I’d do anything to make it stop. Which was why I made sure never to reveal such a weakness. It was much too easy to exploit.
Though I doubted Layne Hall had much experience with exploitation. She looked like a fawn with those innocent brown eyes of hers. Her glasses made them appear even larger. It was almost comical, yet strangely adorable. Up close, her face reminded me of an anime character—all eyes and hair.
“Okay. Get better soon,” she said, sniffling. “Love you.”
Then she hung up and let her head rest against the window like the weight of the world had finally beat her down.
I knew that feeling and I hated it.
It plagued me every time I found out who my real friends were, or weren’t, rather. I felt it when I was surrounded by people yet still felt alone. I felt it when my father chose work over me time and time again.
Loneliness, disappointment, betrayal, abandonment—the melancholy feelings that consumed me had many names. But no matter what I called the heavy feeling in my chest, there was no escaping it, and I knew after today it would be even worse.
The bus’s brakes screeched as it slowed to a halt. Layne stood and walked toward the door, taking my sympathy with her.
I muttered a curse under my breath and stood up, too.
This might be the worst idea I’d ever had, but my mother was right about one thing, I needed a distraction, and Layne Hall practically had the word stamped across her forehead.
Chapter Seven
Layne
“Alright, Penny Layne, where do we start?”
I whirled around at the sound of his voice, tripping on my own pant leg.