The shock on her face was palpable. It was clear I’d been acting like a complete wanker if she was this stunned by my apology. “Can we start over tomorrow?” I asked.
She was quiet for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at her pink heart-shaped lips. “Fine. But only if you promise to take your Midol or whatever you need to take the edge off this moody attitude.”
I laughed, surprised by both her wit and forgiveness. “It’s a promise.”
“Do you know where the practice rooms are in the music wing?”
“Yeah.”
“Meet me there tomorrow after school. The last room on the left. I’ll have the lyrics ready for you.”
“Brilliant. I’ll be there,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets against the chill. The sun was nearly set, and the temperature was dropping.
Layne frowned as she noticed me shiver. “We still have to figure out how to get you home.”
Her concern caught me off guard. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m sure I can catch a ride with someone.”
“Maybe if you were still in New York or London, but Northwood isn’t exactly a thriving metropolis.”
“So, I’ve noticed,” I teased. “But I’ll be fine.”
“What are you going to do, hitchhike on the corner of First and Main?”
“Are you worried about me, Penny Layne?”
She bit her lip, struggling with whether to give me a truthful answer or not. I don’t know why that amused me so, but it did. It was fun getting under her skin. It might be my new favorite hobby. “I promise, I’ll find a ride,” I said, easing her guilt. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me.”
Layne
As if on cue Candace Kennedy pulled up in her VW bug. She looked right through me, her corn syrup smile directed solely at the bad boy standing next to me.
“Hey, Wyatt,” she purred as her window glided down. “Need a ride?”
“Hey, Candy. It’s like you’re a mind reader.”
She grinned. “Hop in.”
Wyatt gave me a wink. “See ya tomorrow.” And then he was gone.
I stood on the street corner watching Candace’s taillights fade in the distance. Was life really that easy for popular people? Speak a wish out loud and just like that it’s granted. It wasn’t the world I lived in, but I couldn’t help thinking it must be nice.
The beeping of the crosswalk indicator brought me back to reality and I crossed the street, pulling my coat tighter around me as I walked up the hill toward my house. Today had been one of the strangest days of my life. And I had a feeling this was only the tip of the iceberg.
I was no stranger to adversity. When you’re invisible, every day is a challenge. But I was determined to leave my mark. I might be okay living in the shadows, but my music deserved the spotlight. And I refused to quit until the world listened.
Chapter Nine
Layne
I spotted Wyatt in the cafeteria and made a beeline for his lunch table.
“Hi,” I greeted, jumping right into it. “I reworked the lyrics. I think they’ll work for you. Anyway, I figured I’d give you the sheet music now, so you’d have a chance to look it over before we rehearse after school.”
A collection of laughter rose from the table. It was hesitant at first, but as the rest of Wyatt’s jock friends took in the look of confusion on his face, the laughter grew.
“Do you know what this gleek is talking about, Nash?” Cooper Jones asked.
Wyatt just stared at the sheet music I was holding out to him. My hand started to tremble as a new and horrifying reality dawned on me.
Why on earth had I thought Wyatt would let anyone else know he was helping me? I knew being seen with me would hurt his reputation. Perhaps that’s why he’d been so moody at the coffee shop yesterday. He was embarrassed to be seen together.
As the laughter continued, I backed away from the table, my eyes locked on Wyatt’s. “So much for proving the world wrong,” I muttered before turning on my heels and marching out of the cafeteria.
“Rule number one,” I muttered to myself over and over as my eyes stung while I tried to keep my tears at bay. “Never let them see you cry.”
It’s not like this was the first time I’d been ridiculed or laughed at. That was practically the anthem of the unpopular at Northwood. I should’ve expected this as par for the course. I mean, I was working with Wyatt Nash. What had I expected?
But it didn’t seem to matter how much I reasoned with myself. It still stung.
Last night, while I’d spent hours rewriting my lyrics to suit Wyatt, I’d agonized over how to tell my best friend all my hopes and dreams now rested in the hands of the boy she despised.
I knew Lola would hate the idea of me working with Wyatt. After he’d ruined prom, I was supposed to detest him, not count on him.
But somehow, I let myself think that this might actually work. That not only would Wyatt take this seriously, but that he got it because he knew what it was like to lose something he loved.
I should’ve known better. Wyatt was just another jock-hole. He certainly was no substitute for Lola.
With my best friend missing from my life for the next four weeks, I felt like there was a gaping hole in my existence. When we sang together it was like magic. There was no other way to describe the feeling of making music with someone. It was a transcendent experience and the true essence of our friendship.
Somehow, during our fleeting conversation I’d let myself believe that Wyatt understood that and that he was ready to fill Lola’s shoes. But who was I kidding? No one could do that. I should just give up now and save myself the heartache.
After Wyatt’s cruel reception in the cafeteria, I wasn’t really sure why I’d even bothered to walk to the music wing after school. But it seemed I was on autopilot as I pushed through the double doors into the silent sanctuary that led to the practice rooms.
I’d spent many hours here in the past few years practicing for pep band. The space was always open, and the music department had a wide variety of instruments available for students to use.
At home I only had my guitar, which I’d saved money from three birthdays to purchase. I loved my guitar, but my true love would always be the piano. I knew I’d never save up enough to buy one and even if I did, where would we put it?
My house had just enough room for me and my mom.
Although I had to admit, when I was younger and less cynical, I used to dream about buying a baby grand. Now, I laughed at the foolish memory. Dreams didn’t come true for girls like me.
I was in the midst of giving myself a harsh lecture about reality when I opened the door to my favorite practice room and stopped short.
Wyatt sat there, hat in hand, on the piano bench.
Fury swept through me, engulfing me in a flash of heat that made my palms sweat. I balled my fists, my lips pressed together tightly to keep my anger from pouring out. I wanted to let him have it, but I knew better. It wouldn’t matter to him. Nothing did. He’d basically admitted that himself.
If I called him out, I’d only make a fool of myself and give him and his friends more to laugh about. So, despite my throat aching to scream at him, I turned on my heels and retreated from the practice room like the coward I was.