by Jordan Ford
“Anyone at this table is always happy to come get you.” Mom’s still looking over her shoulder, waiting for Maddie to appear. “Now quickly wash up before your dinner gets cold.”
I take another mouthful, pleased I only have a few to go. I’ll be back in my room soon, my head swimming with guitar chords and song lyrics. I swallow and am about to take another bite when Dad spits out his mouthful of food and jumps up from the table. “What the hell happened to you?”
Glancing up, my insides plummet as soon as I spot Maddie’s banged-up face. There’s a lump on her forehead, a red mark on her chin, and a nasty bruise forming on her cheekbone. Her hand is sliced.
Someone hurt her.
I don’t know how or why it happened. All I know is that I shouldn’t have let my sister walk home in the dark. I shouldn’t have been sitting on my bed writing songs about magic potions while someone was busy smashing her face in.
I should have been there…beating the living crap out of whoever touched her!
18
What The Heart Wants
CAIRO
“The Middle” by Jimmy Eats World is thumping through the car stereo.
Dad’s driving us to school, his fingers tapping on the wheel as he sings softly to himself.
I bob my head in time with the beat. My foot’s on the dash and I picture my fingers on the guitar as I strum along with the song.
Man, messing around with Max yesterday afternoon was cool. I love that she watched my fingers and managed to pick up the chord sequence, enough for me to break away and start adding in a fiddly melody.
And then we sang together.
We harmonized.
Damn, she’s a cool chick.
I can’t wait to see her this morning.
A smile crests my lips as I think about what I’ll teach her today. I want to work on her strumming technique, refine it so that she can move on to more complicated things. And I think we’ll focus on the chords A minor and E minor this week. She has all the beginner basic chords nailed, and I want to step her up.
Teaching her has been so much more fun than I thought it would be. I’ve never taught anyone to play. I’m just rehashing all the lessons Dad took me through when I was learning.
“What are you smiling about?” Dad snatches my attention and I chuckle.
“Guitar.”
“Ah, right. And when you say guitar, I’m assuming you’re actually talking about a girl called Max.”
I purse my lips, trying to squash my grin, but it doesn’t really work. “I just love teaching her. It’s fun. It’s cool to watch her catch on and kind of take off with it.”
“Teaching is rewarding. Especially when you can teach something you’re passionate about.”
“It’s more than that.” I glance at Dad. “It’s about watching her discover her own passion. It’s like a light comes on inside of her when she plays. It’s seriously beautiful.”
“Aye, she is a beauty. I can see why you like her so much.”
“Dad.” I warn him away from the topic of romance, but he ignores me.
“Don’t Dad me. You’ve been smiling like a cat who got the cream lately.”
I shake my head, silently denying it.
“Yes you have. You’ve got a glow.”
“Would you stop? You’re making me sound like a pregnant woman.”
Dad cracks up laughing, slapping the wheel as his loud humor booms through the car. But it peters off when we round the corner and spot two squad cars in the lot.
“Hold on. What’s going on here, then?” Dad pulls into his usual spot and we get out of the car.
His dark eyebrows are bunched with concern. With all the robberies going on lately, he’s been worried about the instruments.
“We locked up after we left last night, right?” Dad looks at me and I nod.
“Yeah, of course we did. Hey, maybe the police are here because they caught the thief,” I murmur, trying to make Dad feel better.
He doesn’t smile at my effort, instead turning to race into the school.
Man, I hope I’m right. I’m so ready for this stealing spree to be over.
Vincent Mancini was a setup. The poor guy’s been suspended since it happened, but I’m not buying it. I wasn’t there when the stuff was discovered in his locker, but Austin gave me the rundown and he thinks someone set Vincent up. Roman was twitchy as hell when it first happened, worried that the drugs would somehow lead back to him, like the person who set up Vincent put the drugs in there to try to throw suspicion onto him. But so far the police have left Roman alone, probably because Rome used to deal Speed and it was Xanax in Vincent’s locker.
That side of Roman’s life is in the past now, and I’ll back him up any way I can to make sure it doesn’t touch him again.
I doubt Vincent has the same kind of support. I’ve always felt a little sorry for the guy. He walks around with the same hardened look Roman used to wear, like he’s living a life he never asked for but he’s not sure how to get out of it.
Following Dad through the side entrance, we head to his music room, scanning the halls as we go. We’re both curious to find out what’s going on and as soon as Principal Sheehan appears in the corridor, Dad picks up the pace and chases after him.
“Patrick,” he calls.
Principal Sheehan stops walking and spins to face us.
He’s looking flustered and sleep-deprived.
“What’s happened?” Dad hitches his satchel onto his shoulder and stops beside the principal.
The man rubs his tired eyes with a huff. “We had another break-in last night. One of our students was assaulted.”
“Who?” I step up, shocked by this. If the thief is the same one as before, they’re changing their MO—getting violent and unpredictable. That’s kind of scary.
Principal Sheehan glances at me and murmurs, “One of the Barlow girls.”
And everything in my chest plummets south.
Was it Max?
How bad is she hurt?
What kind of assault?
I’m about to spit out my questions when the towering Chief Barlow steps into the hallway and calls the principal away. He scurries after the policeman and Dad and I are left to stand there dumbfounded.
“I’ve got to get to the music room,” I murmur, picking up my pace and running for the first set of stairs on my right.
I don’t want to be late in case Max is waiting for me.
I need to see her, make sure she’s okay.
Why didn’t she call me? I would have come back to the school in a heartbeat to help her.
Shit, I should have walked her to her car. Keeping this whole thing a big secret is stupid. If sneaking around gets her hurt, then it’s not worth it.
Wrestling with the lock, I yank the door open and flick on the lights. Of course she’s not there. Usually she’s hovering outside the door waiting for me.
Yanking out my phone, I send her a text, asking if she’s okay.
“Please be okay,” I mutter, pacing in the small space while I stare at my phone, willing it to beep with a reply.
“You all right?” Dad stands in the doorway, watching me act like a caged animal.
“She hasn’t replied.” I hold up my phone. “Shit! I should have made sure she was safe before leaving last night.”
“It might not be her, Cai. It could have been one of her sisters.”
“But what if it wasn’t!” I throw my arms wide and deflate at the look on Dad’s face. “I just hate the idea that someone might have hurt her. I hate that maybe she needed help and I wasn’t there.”
Pressing his lips together, Dad is kind enough not to say anything or hassle me about just how much I like this girl.
I guess my reaction is testament enough.
I mean, I’d hate for anyone to get hurt, but the storm raging inside of me right now is probably proof that Max is kind of high on my priority list.
Gripping my phone, I dial her number, not caring if
it rings in front of her family. I need to know she’s all right. If they get suspicious, she can tell them I’m a friend from school. No one has to mention guitar lessons.
I should tell her that, convince her that hanging out with me is just adding another layer of protection to her guitar secret. If the school thinks we’re friends, then they won’t question seeing us together.
Her phone clicks to voice mail and I hang up with a frustrated grunt.
The next forty-five minutes is a killer. I pace that music room, waiting until the bell rings for homeroom.
As I step back up into the main hallways, the school is buzzing with gossip. I try to tune into it and find out some details, but am distracted by a long ponytail and an olive-green bomber jacket.
It’s disappearing down the hallway, walking fast to get away from the curious whispers and stares.
I race after Max, needing to catch her before class.
“Excuse me,” I mumble, pushing my way through the weaving student body and managing to snag Max’s jacket just before she turns the corner.
She spins to face me, her eyes rounding the second she realizes it’s me.
Her face is flawless—no signs of assault or trauma.
Unless I look into her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, so feather soft I can barely hear my own voice.
Her eyes gain an instant sheen and she glances around, aware of the people passing us.
“I have to go,” she whispers, but I lurch after her before she can take off.
“Just wait a second.” Tugging her jacket, I guide her along the corridor and glance over my shoulder before heading into an empty computer room.
It’s still dark and all the computers have yet to be switched on. We only have a few minutes so I don’t waste any time, pulling her into a hug before she can stop me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I gently run my hands over her back until she’s nestled tightly against me.
“It wasn’t you. I thought it was you.”
She pats my back and then pulls out of the embrace.
“It was Maddie.” Her voice is quiet and kind of dead. “She got beat pretty bad trying to stop this guy from stealing Coach Keenan’s laptop.” She swallows, her nostrils flaring with emotion. “I should have been there with her. Back in Columbus we did all our workouts together. We studied together, we played together, and since coming here, I’ve been lying to her and sneaking around behind her back.”
Alarm bells start clanging between my ears. I know why she didn’t text me or pick up her phone this morning. I know why she didn’t come to practice.
She’s pulling away.
It feels kind of brutal and hurts more than I thought it would.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Max.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “Yeah, I did. Lying is wrong. You warned me and I should have listened to you.”
I blink, hope sparking through me as I reach for her face. “So, you’re gonna tell them the truth? About the guitar lessons and…” I trail off, not sure if saying “me” will go over very well.
Just because I’m crushing on her doesn’t mean she feels the same way.
I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. Her skin’s so smooth and creamy white. I smile at her, my emotions getting the better of me.
“No, Cairo.” She leans away from my touch. “I’m not going to tell them. But I am going to stop lying.”
My eyebrows dip together as I read between the lines. “There’s nothing wrong with pursuing a dream. You love playing guitar. Are you seriously ready to give that up?”
She looks away from me. “I can’t fit it in anymore, you know? I have practice this afternoon, and then I’m gonna go straight home after that, so…” Her swallow is thick, her forehead bunching as she struggles to get out the words. “I need to cool it on the guitar thing. My family needs me right now and I should be there for them.”
“Max, no.”
“Yes. It has to be this way. I need to get my priorities straight.”
“They are straight. You’re following your heart.”
Her blue gaze hits mine, her eyes brimming with emotion. “Sometimes the heart wants what it shouldn’t. I know my place, and I need to stay in it.”
The last of her words are choked out and before I can even respond, she lurches out the door and starts running.
I slump against the nearby table and stare into the darkened room.
My heart feels heavy in my chest. I rub the ache before letting out a frustrated huff and slapping my thigh. “Shit!”
The lights come on, jerking me to a stand. Mr. Jameson—the IT guy—gives me a droll look. “What the hell are you doing in here? Get to class.”
“Sorry, sir,” I mutter, flinging open the door and trudging to homeroom. I’ll get in trouble for being late, which is a double-edged sword because Dad will find out too and even though he’s a completely cool parent, he’ll still want to know why.
I’ll tell him, but I guarantee it won’t make me feel any better.
I’ve just lost Max.
Not that she was even mine to lose.
Dammit. This sucks.
19
Role Playing
MAX
I feel like crap.
I’ve felt like crap ever since I pulled away from Cairo’s hug this morning.
He hugged me.
No, he held me like he thought I’d died or something. Like me being hurt really worried him.
His arms around my body that way…
He held me.
And I’ve never experienced that before. I’m used to being patted on the shoulder or back, jostled after a good play…but never wrapped in someone’s embrace.
It felt so good.
And I pulled away.
Tugging my cap farther down to shade my stinging eyes, I hold up my glove and prepare to catch Zane’s fly ball. It’s an easy take and I hurl it straight back, practicing the drills coach has set us up with.
There’s a really dark vibe floating across the field this afternoon. Everyone is super pissed about what happened to Maddie.
I should have been there with her. I hate myself that she got hurt because I was selfishly pursuing my own secret dream.
Holden’s in a foul mood too. He’s the one that found her after the attack, and it’s really shaken him. He obviously cares about my sister more than I thought.
Chloe’s quiet.
She always goes into her shell when she’s stressed about something. I wonder if she feels as bad as I do. Since the whole Holden-Maddie kiss she’s been a little more reserved with her older sister, finding excuses not to hang out with her. Spending way more time with Rahn than she normally would.
I get it.
Knowing they like each other must really suck. Love triangles are always a nightmare. I’m so glad not to be a part of that drama.
Yet I am.
Because they’re my sisters, and even though they’re talking to each other again, the bridge between them has been damaged.
Bending to one knee, I scoop up the ground ball the way I was taught and fire one to Luke. He’s edgy today. He often feeds off Holden’s moods, though. He wants to support his friend and find the jerk that hurt my sister.
Dad will beat them to it. He’s the best cop I know. And this is a good thing, because we all need to step back and let the professionals handle it.
“All right, bring it in!” Coach hollers at us.
We all jog in and clump around him.
“I want to say good practice today, but you’re all kind of distracted. I understand why. What happened yesterday was horrible. But the police are working to find the person responsible, and we just have to keep moving forward. We have a game tomorrow, and I need you guys focused. When you step out on this field, you need to have your game faces on. You leave all the other stuff in the locker room and you play some ball. Got it?”
We all say, “Yes, coach,” but he makes us say it ag
ain until we can shout the words and actually sound like we mean them.
“Okay, go shower up. You’ve got a twenty-minute window. No messing around. This area of the school has to be locked up and secured by six. Let’s go, people.”
As we traipse down to the lockers, Chloe catches up to me and wraps her arm around my waist.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “You?”
“It’s been a weird day. I’m kind of looking forward to getting home.”
“Me too,” I murmur and give her a half-hearted smile.
We don’t bother showering. Grabbing our stuff, we walk to the car and drive home as fast as we can.
Mom’s cooking up a storm in the kitchen, her nervous agitation blending with the steam and the overpowering smell of mint.
I wrinkle my nose, too afraid to ask what she’s conjuring up on the stovetop.
Chloe stops to chat with her and I slip out of the room before I have to say anything. I don’t really feel like talking right now.
Padding down the hallway, I turn into my room and spot Maddie sleeping on the bed. Her blonde hair is splayed on the pillow behind her, her lips slightly parted as she rests. Although she’s not completely at rest. Lines of tension are wrinkling her forehead and her fingers keep curling and flinching. I stop by her bed, gazing down at the purple bruise taking over her cheek.
Maddie’s always so strong and sure of herself.
It’s unsettling to see her beat up and vulnerable.
Guilt swamps me again, reminding me that I’m a bad person for ever lying to her. I should have been there. She’s my twin, my best friend, and since getting to Armitage, all I’ve done is pull away from her.
Turning for my bed, I dump my school bag onto the soft mattress and unzip it, ready to take out my computer and attempt to get some homework done. I’m seriously so behind on everything.
As I pull it out, a sheet of paper flutters to the ground. I collect it and run my fingers over the song lyrics I started writing last night. Clenching my jaw, I ball the paper up and drop it on the floor. It hurts to do it, but I can’t be reminded of Cairo and music right now.
