“Is it really? You’re the one who thinks I’m a disappointment.”
“And you said you were going to prove me wrong.”
“I said maybe.”
Layne sighed, her defeat somehow worse than her fury. “I can’t believe this is how it ends.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” I grumbled. “This is a minor setback.”
“A minor setback? You can’t read music, Wyatt. I can’t teach you how to do that in two weeks.”
“How did you teach Lola your songs?”
“She reads music!”
“Okay, but you said you’ve been working together since fifth grade. I bet she didn’t read music back then.”
“No, but we just clicked. We’ve been doing it so long she knows how I want my songs to sound and I write them for her to sing. It was the perfect setup.”
“Well, good on you for finding perfection. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you such partnerships are few and far between. If you want to be a serious songwriter, you can’t be writing music for one specific kind of singer. You need to be wide, diverse, generic.”
“Generic? Are you kidding me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t.”
“I’m sure your songs would be brilliant if you sang them. That’s the appeal of a singer-songwriter. But if you’re writing music to sell to other singers you have to write about universal topics that the majority can relate to. It’ll make the song more believable coming from whomever the singer is and more appealing to the masses. That’s what it takes to be successful.”
She blinked her big brown eyes, magnified by her glasses. “How do you know so much about this?”
I stared at her, looking for even the slightest hint of mockery. There was none. “Do you really not know who my father is?”
She crossed her arms. “Should I?”
“Never mind.”
“Well, now I’m curious.”
“We’ve established your curiosity,” I grumbled.
“Why do I never understand what you’re trying to say?”
“I’m saying, I find it peculiar that you’re the one person at this school who doesn’t seem to think they know every detail about my life.” I shook my head, huffing a laugh despite my irritation. “And I rather like it, Penny Layne.”
She rolled her eyes at my nickname, endearing it further to me. “Let me guess, now you’re going to tell me I’m supposed to feel bad for you because you’re popular?”
“Popular, no. Gawked at like a zoo animal, yeah. That pretty much sucks.”
“No one thinks you’re a zoo animal. You’re just new. This is a small town, and you’re the flashy new toy.”
“It doesn’t matter where I go. Thanks to my father I’ve always been the flashy new toy.”
“And he is?”
I smirked. “Nice try.”
“Oh, come on. You said everyone knows who he is.”
“Well if you don’t, I’m not going to spoil it.”
She crossed her arms. “Why don’t you want to talk about your family?”
“Do you want to talk about yours?”
“Point taken. But we do need to find some common ground or at least a solid way of communicating or we’re just wasting our time.”
“I agree.”
Layne sighed, leaning back against the wall across from me. She mimicked my stance, crossing her arms and ankles as she looked thoughtfully at the ceiling as if collecting her thoughts. Finally, she asked, “Are you still willing to try to sing my songs?”
“As long as you’re willing to teach me.”
Layne tapped a finger to her chin while thinking, again reminding me of an adorable anime character.
She looked cuter today. She wasn’t wearing that hideous band polo. Instead she had on a pair of overalls and a tight yellow t-shirt. The girl had curves under all the baggy clothes she normally wore. I wanted to ask her why she never flaunted them, but something told me Layne wouldn’t take that as a compliment, so I kept my mouth shut.
Besides, I wasn’t supposed to be looking for attractive qualities, just a distraction. Although, cute girls were my favorite distraction . . .
Layne spoke, cutting off my dirty thoughts. “We could call Lola. She knows the songs. Maybe she could sing them through once, so you get the idea.”
I cleared my throat. “Sure, that could work.”
Chapter Eleven
Layne
Back in the practice room I felt a familiar calm settle over me as I plucked a guitar from its stand. I pulled out my phone while Wyatt examined the sheet music I’d set on the music stand. He squinted his eyes at it like it was a foreign language. Which to him, I guess it was.
I still couldn’t help wondering what I was missing. Wyatt told me he could sing. And so did his mother. She’d even gone as far as to say music ran in his blood. She seemed to think he could help me and trusting her impeccable insight and stake in the competition, I doubted she’d waste my time, even to placate her son.
From our prior discussions and Wyatt’s most recent rant about songwriting, it was obvious he knew more than the average student when it came to the music industry. But he couldn’t read a lick of music.
I frowned, feeling like I was a few puzzle pieces shy of the whole picture. I stared at my phone; Lola’s number queued up. I was suddenly having second thoughts.
I wished I had more time to break the news that Wyatt Nash was my new partner to Lola. And definitely more privacy. She wasn’t going to be happy about this, and I couldn’t blame her.
Guilt consumed me as I stared at my phone. I couldn’t help but feel like a terrible best friend. After all, I was breaking one of our rules: Never date your best friend’s ex.
“Alright,” Wyatt said, interrupting my concentration. “You ready to do this?”
“Yeah, but can you pretend you’re not here?”
He looked at me like I was being a toddler. “If you think that’s best.”
“It’s just, I haven’t exactly broken the news to Lola yet that you’re her replacement.”
“And you don’t think she’ll be happy about that?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Are you two the co-founders of the secret I Hate Wyatt Nash Club, or something?”
“Or something,” I admitted.
His face fell. “You’re serious? Bloody hell, I was joking. What did I do to deserve this?”
“You really don’t know?”
“I truly don’t.”
I sighed. “Then it’s not worth bringing up.” I knew it would only make things more awkward. And honestly, I liked seeing him squirm. I’m sure Lola wasn’t the only girl whose heart had been crushed by Nashanova. “Just let me do the talking.”
“Whatever you say, Penny Layne.”
I took a deep breath and clicked the video icon next to Lola’s name. She answered after the first ring. “Hey,” she croaked.
“Lola?” Her normally bright blue eyes were red and puffy, her blonde hair in a messy bun atop her head. I had no idea what she was wearing. A blanket? A robe? A Muppet? Whatever it was, the pink fuzzy material made her skin look blotchy and swollen.
“I know, I look like death,” Lola rasped. “Mono is no joke. I feel awful.”
“I’m sorry, Lo. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll let you get some rest.”
“No, please. I’m so bored. All I do is sleep and play on my phone. I need social interaction. What have I been missing at school?”
“You’ve only been gone one day.”
“Yes, but a lot can happen in a day.”
Tell me about it.
“I see you’re in our practice room,” Lola said. “Does that mean you’ve had some luck finding someone to replace me?”
“No one can replace you, Lo.”
She laughed, which turned into a painful coughing fit. “I know,” she said when she caught her breath. “But it’s nice to hear you say it an
yway. So, who’s my understudy?”
I bit my lip, wishing I’d be struck with the perfect way to break the news to her gently. But I should’ve known better. Wishes never came true the way I want them to.
“Surprise!” Wyatt yelled, his face popping into the screen as he stepped behind me.
Lola screamed and the screen went black when she disconnected.
I spun around, glaring at Wyatt. “What happened to pretending not to be here?”
“Are you serious? You obviously didn’t know how to tell her I’ve replaced her. I was helping.”
“That wasn’t helping!”
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Are we going to rehearse or not? I don’t have all day.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have somewhere more pressing to be? A popular kid party or maybe some freshman athletes to haze?”
That insufferable smirk danced across Wyatt’s face as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “Believe it or not I do have a life outside this school, Penny Layne.”
“Stop calling me that!” I yelled, stomping out of the practice room to call Lola back.
In the hall, I took a deep breath and dialed Lola’s number again, this time not on a video call.
She answered right away, her voice hesitant. “Hello?”
“Lola?”
“Is he still there?” Lola whispered.
“No, he’s in the practice room. I walked out to the hall to call you back. Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for this, but Mrs. Nash volunteered him when I told her you had to drop out and I couldn’t find anyone else. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Lola was uncharacteristically silent.
“Lo, please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” she said quickly. “More like shocked. And embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
“I look like death, Layne. I don’t want Wyatt to see me like that.”
“What do you care? You hate him.”
“Exactly! I don’t want him to see me looking like a hot mess. I want him to rue the day he missed his chance with me.”
“Seriously? Rue the day?”
“Too dramatic?”
“A little.”
Lola giggled. “Well, I am a diva. But you know what I mean.”
“I guess.”
“Layne, Wyatt Nash may be a jerk, but he’s still a hottie. I have a reputation to uphold.”
I shook my head in amusement. Even after contracting the kissing virus, Lola was still thinking about her dating rep. “So, you’re really not mad at me?” I finally asked.
“Layne, of course not. If Nashanova can help you get your scholarship, I’m all for it.”
“Thanks. I still can’t help feeling like I’m being a bad friend though.”
“Why?” Lola asked.
“Rule number two: never date your best friend’s ex.”
“You’re not dating, right?”
I made a gagging sound. “Of course not!”
“Then you’re not violating any rules,” Lola replied. “Besides, we didn’t really date. And you’re forgetting the most important rule.”
“What’s that?”
“Rule number 3: always be happy for your best friend, no matter what.”
I smiled, wishing I could see Lola’s face right now. I was sure she was smiling confidently at my insecurity. Unlike her popularity, Lola’s confidence always rubbed off on me and I could really use some right about now.
“So,” I said, hopefully, “Does that mean I can ask you for a favor?”
“Always.”
“I called because there’s one dilemma with Wyatt.”
“Only one?”
I laughed. “Well, more like a million, but the one we need to solve at the moment is that he can’t read music.”
“What?” I had to hold the phone away from my ear as Lola screeched her concerns. They were all the same ones I had. “I know,” I said cutting her off so she didn’t waste her already scratchy voice. “But I have a solution.”
“What’s that?”
“I was going to have you sing the songs through once so he could get a feel for how they should sound.”
“Layne, you know I’d do anything to help you out but listen to me. My voice is shot. I’d sound like a dying cat if I tried to sing right now. Maybe by next week, but even then I’m not sure. I can’t suck down cough drops fast enough to soothe the fire in my throat.”
I brought my palm to my head feeling like an idiot for not having thought of that. “Right, of course. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, honestly I’d love to sing right now. I just can’t. Check back next week?”
Next week would be too late. The competition was only two weeks away. In one week, I had to have one of my songs submitted so I could start earning votes on the event’s Facebook page. The popular vote counted for part of the score. But at the rate I was going, the only vote I’d be getting was the pity vote.
But I didn’t want to worry Lola. “Sure. We’ll muddle through it somehow. You just rest and get better so I can have my best friend back.”
“I will. You’ve got this, Layne. I have faith in you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart swelling at my best friend’s words. I didn’t deserve her. “I miss you, Lo.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Thank you for being so cool about this.”
“What are best friends for?”
“I’m serious. I know working with your enemy isn’t ideal.”
“It’s fine, Layne. Wyatt is so last year. I’m over him.”
“I’m glad. But I’m still not happy about spending time with someone who hurt you.”
“Which is why I love you.” She paused. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything?”
“Be careful, Layne. He’s a charmer. Don’t fall for his dreamy green eyes. I don’t want to see you get hurt, too.”
I laughed. “Trust me, Wyatt Nash is the last guy on earth I’d ever fall for.”
Chapter Twelve
Wyatt
Last guy on earth?
I was seriously wracking my brain wondering what I’d done to piss off these girls so royally. I barely knew them. I wasn’t naïve. I knew my revolving door of dates left quite a few disgruntled girls in my wake, but being despised by girls I hadn’t even dated wasn’t something I was used to.
I’d eavesdropped on enough of Layne’s phone call with Lola to know that whatever it was I’d done, it wouldn’t be easy to overcome. I was beginning to regret my decision to work with Layne. I wanted a distraction, not a death sentence.
Layne pushed through the door back into the practice room, her chocolate eyes simmering with frustration behind her glasses.
“I take it Lola won’t be rehearsing with us today?” I asked.
“Were you listening to my conversation?”
I shrugged. “Your voice carries. You should consider singing,” I added to get under her skin. I couldn’t help myself. Her pale complexion really was the loveliest shade of pink when she was angry.
“We’re just going to have to muddle our way through it,” Layne said, ignoring my dig.
She picked up her guitar and looped the leather strap over her head.
I cocked my head, studying her.
“What?” she demanded.
“Are you just going to ignore the elephant in the room?”
“You mean your ego?”
I laughed. “I mean, the I Hate Wyatt Nash Club. I’d like to know what I’ve done so I can defend myself.”
“If you don’t know, it only proves I’m right about you.”
“So, your mind’s made up, then?”
“Yep.”
“What happened to telling me to prove everyone wrong?”
“What about it?”
“Are you not included?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Wyatt. I’m only here for my music.”
> “Clearly,” I muttered. “So, what are we doing about the music, since I can’t read it and you refuse to sing it?”
Layne sat down in a huff. “We’re going to muddle our way through.”
“Are we, now?” I asked, amused by her tenacity.
“Yes. I’m going to play the song and you can give the lyrics a whirl.”
“That sounds promising,” I drawled sarcastically.
“Look, either it’ll work, or it won’t. At least we’ll know one way or the other so we can stop wasting each other’s time.”
I snatched the sheet music and gestured to her guitar. “By all means.”
Layne met my smirk with a withering scowl before letting out a huff of frustration. But then her focus moved to her guitar. The moment her fingers strummed the first chord, she transformed. Her dark eyes slid closed, yet somehow this was the most alive I’d ever seen her.
I took a seat, mesmerized as music flowed through her like it lived in her blood. I leaned my elbows on my knees, resting my chin in my hands. I could’ve watched her play her guitar all day.
I’d forgotten I was there to do more than watch, but Layne had not. The music came to an abrupt stop and her eyes flew open, pinning me with an apprehensive stare. “I thought you were going to sing.”
I cleared my throat to hide my embarrassment. “Right, I thought I’d listen to it all the way through once before having a go.”
“Oh.” She seemed to buy it. “Okay.”
“From the top?” I suggested, looking back at the sheet music I’d forgot I was holding.
She nodded, closed her eyes once more and began to play, her unbridled talent once again carrying me away.
Chapter Thirteen
Layne
“This isn’t working,” I said, stilling the strings of my guitar for the umpteenth time.
We’d been through my first song so many times I’d lost track, but the results were always the same—disappointing.
It wasn’t entirely Wyatt’s fault. He actually did have a great voice and I could tell he was trying, but we were out of sync. He was early when I was late, loud when I was soft, fast when I was slow. We honestly couldn’t be more off if we tried.
Kissing The Hero (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 2) Page 5
