by Leigh Landry
She laughed. “Good Lord don’t call here.” As much as she wasn’t looking forward to discussing her failed life up until this point, she was even less ready to explain to her parents that she was hooking up with her sister’s best friend. She lifted her phone and waved it. “Cell.”
Tyler took out his phone and texted a green heart. Her favorite color.
Her own heart fluttered, and she couldn’t hide her smile if she tried.
Then he nodded at her phone. “Why don’t you check with that band while you have your phone out?”
She’d just about gotten over that. Why the hell was he bringing it up again? “I told you. It didn’t go well. I didn’t get it.”
“Did they say you didn’t?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
Her shoulders tensed, and for half a second she heard her ex’s voice coming from Tyler’s mouth. “I just do. Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I don’t want to see you give up.”
“This isn’t the army, Tyler. I don’t need to push through the pain or mud or whatever the hell you guys do.”
His face tightened and a firm frown set in. She thought he was going to walk out right then and there. That she’d pushed too hard, once again. But he said, “I don’t want to see you give up on you.”
“I’m not giving up on me.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s your violin?” he challenged.
Lauren’s jaw firmed up. “The closet.”
“Why? I know you don’t keep it in there. I saw it on your dresser every day for years, remember?”
Her chest tightened, crushed again beneath the weight of the last six months. Every time her ex questioned her choices. Every choice he made for her.
“So you’re snooping in my room now?”
“I was worried about you after that audition,” he said. “And I didn’t snoop. I glanced in when I went to the bathroom.”
“Sure.”
Tyler sighed and relaxed a little, but he also took a step back from her, putting some space between them. “Look, do what you want, okay? But I saw how excited you were. I saw how much you wanted that gig, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. You should fight for what you want.”
Her stomach clenched. He was telling her what she wanted. What to do.
Lauren wanted to throw up all the lo mein she’d just eaten.
She looked at the stack of boxes by the door. “You should probably go. I need to drop those off before Mom and Dad get back.”
“I can do that for—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.”
Tyler clenched his jaw and stared at her. “Fine.” He grabbed his keys from the bar. “I’ll get out of your way.”
She opened her mouth to tell him to stop. He wasn’t the one in her way. She was doing a damn fine job of getting in her own way.
But her heart and brain were still partially living in the past six months, and she couldn’t bring herself to form words.
She wasn’t even sure if she should stop him.
Tyler scratched Millie goodbye. Then, without another word from either of them, she watched as he closed the front door behind him.
* * * * *
The light turned red at the intersection leading out of Lauren’s neighborhood. Tyler smacked the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Not that it was the truck’s fault. The truck wasn’t the one who’d blown up on him for no damn reason.
As close as he’d felt to her just minutes ago, how could she flip out and accuse him of shit like that?
He felt sick. Just like he did all those times listening to his mom and dad fighting, trying to figure out what the fuck happened and why his mom was mad out of the blue again, because she sure as hell wasn’t giving his dad a straight up reason. It was all part of the game. If he couldn’t guess what pissed her off so much, she’d just use that as ammunition.
Yeah, he’d peeked in Lauren’s room when he walked by. But it wasn’t like he was opening her drawers or digging through her closet or anything. He just made a passing comment, and BAM. She went off. And he still had no idea why.
The light changed to green, and Tyler made a left turn onto the main road.
Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. Maybe all those years he was friends with Brandy he’d been making up a reality about Lauren that didn’t really exist. Maybe his guilt about not being there for Brandy was the only reason he had been trying to make things work with Lauren now.
Except he knew none of that was true.
His feelings were real. And he did know Lauren. He just didn’t know what the hell happened in there or why she was shutting him out. If she wanted him to know what was really going on, she would have to tell him. He was done guessing. And he was done being the only one fighting for a relationship.
Tyler’s phone beeped in the cup holder. He glanced quickly at the screen and saw a message from Darren. He put the phone on speaker and called. “Hey man, I’m driving. What’s up?”
“Hey, you still over there?”
“No.”
Darren was silent for long enough that Tyler thought he lost the call.
“Why not?” Darren’s tone was flat.
“Because Lauren’s scared, and I’m not fighting for both of us.”
There was another long pause before Darren said, “Fair enough.”
Fair was the last thing Tyler thought about any of this. But there also wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“I’m going see that movie,” Darren said. “Sounds like you could stand to watch shit blow up.”
“Probably. When is it?”
“I’m on my way right now. Meet you out front?”
“Yeah. Sure. Be there in about ten minutes.”
Tyler ended the call and made a right turn at the next intersection.
He sure as hell couldn’t make Lauren fight for her music or for them, but he could watch someone else fight their way out of shit for two hours. In fact, he figured it was exactly what he needed to get his mind off of her. At least for now.
* * * * *
Lauren drove back to her parents’ house an hour later and several boxes lighter. Too bad she felt as heavy as when she left.
Part of her knew Tyler was just trying to help, but she was still having trouble believing that. Her breakup with her ex was still messing with her head, making her distrust her own damn judgment.
Plus, Tyler didn’t understand. There was no point in making any calls. She’d screwed up her shot. That door was closed. Of course, she’d have to face Robin tomorrow at work, but hopefully they could both go about their work and lives pretending that rehearsal never happened.
After the way she’d pushed Tyler away, she was probably going to have to pretend the entire weekend never happened. Except there was no way she could forget that.
Him.
Them.
Her phone dinged, and Lauren nearly jumped out of her shoes. A wave of nausea hit her, but it was only her parents letting her know they were starting the drive back from New Orleans.
She breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t ready to talk to Tyler just yet. She needed to get her own shit together before she could even consider moving forward with an already complicated potential relationship.
She walked in the house and sat on her bed, looking around her bedroom. Of course she’d been pretty miserable about the circumstances that landed her back here—missing her sister, betrayed by the two people she was closest to, and essentially homeless—but having her childhood home to herself for the weekend had given her a soft, comfy place to hide out. Her bed was the same—with the same bedding even—and some of her posters from her teen years were still on the wall. Everything was just as she’d left it. Just as she’d grown up with. Proof that not everything in her life was destined to be taken away or go down in flames.
She grabbed the picture frame from her nightstand and laid it on her lap. She’d taken it from
Brandy’s room that morning. It was the only thing she wanted from there.
Although maybe it wasn’t the only thing she wanted from Brandy.
Lauren traced the edges of the photo with her finger, brushing away the small amount of dust collecting in the corners. She grinned back at her sister’s smiling image. They really did have a good time in that band.
With a deep, heavy sigh, she put the picture frame back on the nightstand and picked up her phone.
Lauren: Sorry for last night. I really wasn’t my best. Sorry for wasting everyone’s time.
A few seconds later, Robin responded.
Robin: You didn’t waste anyone’s time. And we got a good talk out of it after you left, so we’re better for it.
Lauren wanted so badly to ask what they talked about. But if Robin wasn’t going to offer even a hint, Lauren wasn’t going to stick her nose in their business. It was their business, after all. Not hers.
Maybe.
Robin: About to rehearse. Sure will miss having a fiddle…
Lauren smirked at the screen, then pushed off the bed and headed toward the closet.
Maybe she could make it her business after all.
Chapter 11
After flying down the interstate and the long, winding state road, Lauren turned onto the gravel driveway leading to Robin’s house. She parked her car in the grass beside the others and followed the music straight to the workshop in the back.
The band played a loud two-step Lauren wasn’t familiar with. They didn’t immediately notice as she opened the door and slipped inside. Robin’s eyes were shut, completely lost in the music. A moment later, Kelsey smiled from behind her drumset, her sticks moving effortlessly around her. Eric plucked at his bass beside Kelsey and gave Lauren a welcoming nod. Natalie strummed intensely beside Robin, no sign of her little girl this time.
Lauren hovered near the doorway, unsure what to do next. The whole drive there, she had planned up to this moment. She’d even prepared a little speech. But she hadn’t figured out the part in between. The part where she had to get their attention or announce herself.
While she debated her next move, Natalie turned, and a deep frown settled on her face. Or maybe it had been there all along, like some permanent fixture of her expression. Either way, she was definitely not happy to see Lauren.
Natalie gave a hard, off-key strum, and let her guitar hang to the side as she stared down Lauren. The rest of the group stopped playing in staggered intervals. It took Robin a second to ground herself in reality and realize what was going on, but when she saw Lauren, she flashed her a small, approving grin.
“What are you doing here?” Natalie challenged.
Lauren took a deep breath and raised her instrument case. “I came for that third song.”
“Too late. We’re moving on.”
Every word was a stab in Lauren’s gut. She’d expected exactly this from Natalie, but it still stung. And now came the nauseating part…the part where she waited to see if the rest of them agreed with Natalie.
“I screwed up last night. Not because I messed up one song the first time I played with you guys. I’m not proud of that, but I tried and failed and I promise I’ll practice and do better,” Lauren said. “But my mistake was leaving without showing you I could do better. Without fighting for this.”
A proud smile stretched across Robin’s face. A second later, she reined it in, and her expression turned serious. “Well, I’m willing to give you a shot at that other song,” she said. “We’re here already. Might as well.”
Lauren’s shoulders relaxed a little, but it wasn’t a victory yet. She had counted on Robin being willing to at least let her finish the audition. But two other votes counted here.
Kelsey sat with her drumsticks in her lap, while Eric sat on a stool holding his bass upright beside him. Both looked back and forth between each other, Natalie, and Robin, avoiding Lauren entirely. Their faces were pained, and it was clear they both hated being stuck between these two. It was also clear this probably wasn’t the first time they were the deciding votes on an issue.
After some silent debate, they nodded at each other. While Kelsey kept her eyes on Eric, she spoke for them both. “One more song sounds fair.”
Lauren let out a sigh of relief. Then, she straightened her back and lifted her chin, knowing all eyes were on her and this was far from over. “Thanks.”
She crouched on the floor and removed her violin from its case, grateful for something to focus on beside their stares and willing her hands not to shake. Her sudden decision to return here hadn’t left her any time to practice before this second shot. She would have to rely on what little familiarity she had with the song.
After playing a few long notes and making adjustments, Lauren nodded to Robin, while strategically avoiding Natalie’s glare. She wasn’t going to let Natalie’s derision derail her. Not this time.
“All right, y’all,” said Robin. “Let’s do this.”
Kelsey clacked her sticks together a few times, then the four of them exploded into the song together, with Lauren catching up to join in a couple measures later. Robin gave her a worried look, but after a few bars, her approval shone through. They played as a unit, all five musicians, with Lauren blending in like she’d been with them for years.
By the time the song ended, Lauren breathed heavily from a rush she’d never experienced before. Her heart beat fast and hard against her chest, and her whole body flushed with adrenaline.
She’d had a similar high playing with other groups, even her own family band, but nothing quite like this. In no other place had her voice ever fit in so well. Their natural style matched hers, and even though she knew she would always be compared to Camille, at least here she wasn’t comparing herself to her own sister. Here she could just be herself. And for once, she was pretty damn proud of who she was and what she was capable of.
For once, she felt like she belonged in a group. She looked expectantly around the room, hoping the others felt the same way.
Natalie was as stone-faced as ever. No surprise there. Robin’s expression was warm, and she looked proud of Lauren. Which, if this were any other situation, would have been more than satisfying enough. But she needed more than Robin’s pride. She needed acceptance from the group.
Once again, she looked back at Kelsey and Eric. This time, they didn’t have to confer with each other.
“Nice,” said Eric.
Kelsey nodded in agreement. “That was awesome.” She gave a quick little drum roll and rim shot. “And don’t you dare even try to deny it, Nat.”
Finally, Lauren dared to turn to Natalie, whose eyes had never left her. Her mouth had a slight pout, but it was better than the frown she’d worn earlier. Even her stance looked a little more relaxed, although “relaxed” was something Lauren wasn’t sure she’d ever really see on Natalie.
Lauren decided to take the initiative. “I know I screwed up yesterday. If you give me the chance, I promise I’ll bust my ass to make every song on the set list sound as good as that by your next gig. I swear.”
After a long pause in which it felt like everyone else in the room held their breath, waiting for an answer, Natalie said, “You have two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Lauren’s voice cracked.
Natalie narrowed her eyes, daring Lauren to complain or back out.
Robin said, “We got a new gig. A private party, some fundraiser. It’ll be a short set and they know Camille’s out, so we can do it with just the four of us if we need to.”
“No, I want in.” Lauren didn’t even need to consider it. It could be only one week from now, and she’d work even harder to make it happen. She wasn’t letting this opportunity slip past her. Not this time. Not after she finally knew exactly what she wanted.
The room fell silent. Lauren didn’t know whether she should wait for them to say something or if she should leave and let them discuss her future where she couldn’t hear. Or where they could pretend she couldn�
�t hear.
“We rehearse again Thursday.” Natalie’s voice was matter-of-fact. No animosity. Lauren nearly fell over at the sound of it. “Robin will send you the set list and time. Don’t fuck up.”
Lauren nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”
“Well, we’ll need to rework that set list,” Robin said. “You don’t need to stick around for that if you have other stuff to do.”
“Actually, I do kind of have something else to do this evening.” She looked around the room and repeated, “Thanks, really.”
Lauren practically floated back to her car. She started the engine and sat with the a/c running for a few minutes while she calmed down.
All she wanted to do was tell Tyler about what just happened, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
Lauren grabbed her phone and sent a text. She tapped the steering wheel with her fingertips until her phone buzzed with the reply.
With a smile and determination driving her, she aimed her car back to town.
Chapter 12
Tyler placed his phone face-down on his leg again. The theater wasn’t full, since it was a Sunday afternoon and the movie had been out for a couple weeks, but he still didn’t want to annoy anyone with his screen flashing on during the show.
When it buzzed on his knee, he almost didn’t bother looking at the text. If it was Lauren, he didn’t want to play these back-and-forth bullshit games with her. Not with anyone, but especially not with her. And if it was anyone else besides Lauren, they could wait until the movie was over.
But a few seconds later, the phone was face-up in his hand anyway.
Darren stared at Tyler from the next seat over. Just staring. Waiting. Not say anything.
“She has something for me,” Tyler whispered.
He’d had time to cool off after she asked him to leave, but he was still angry. Confused.
Hurt.
Especially after things had been going so well. He didn’t understand how they could have been so close, connecting in a way he’d never experienced with anyone before, only to have her shut down and ask him to leave.
