Some Kind of Normal

She looked surprised at that. “But we’ve barely talked since grade school.”

“Everly. Come on. Twin Oaks is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everyone’s business.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Tell me you didn’t think I was a stuck-up snob. Tell me that you weren’t dreading spending every day with me at the library. Tell me you didn’t think it would be a total drag.”

She kinda had me there. “Truth?”

“Absolutely. Truth,” she replied.

“You’ve never been part of my crowd, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. And I’m not…” Okay, this was getting personal, but hell, we were in the middle of something that felt big. I had to be honest. “I’m not the guy I used to be. I’m not one hundred percent. Not after the accident, and that’s been kind of hard to deal with.” I was quiet for a few moments. “I was nervous to be around you because I thought you would think I was just another loser, you know? Some metalhead with scrambled brains and looking at a road leading nowhere. Not even Nathan knows…”

Her hand crept across the table, and she covered my fist. She was warm. And soft.

And when I glanced up, the look in her eyes took my breath away. Like literally. I couldn’t breathe.

That’s what this girl did to me.

“What doesn’t Nathan know?” she asked. It took a bit for me to push away the lump in my throat. For me to be brave enough to share. I don’t think I’d ever been this freaked out by a conversation before.

“For as long as I can remember, music has been everything to me, Everly. Everything. It kind of defined who I was. Who I want to be. And I’m scared. Nathan’s expecting me to come to New York this fall, and I don’t think I have what it takes anymore.” I looked away, chest tight. “Jesus, I haven’t played in front of anyone since our last gig. I’m afraid to, because I screw up. A lot. I forget things. Play the wrong notes, screw up the lyrics. It really sucks to be seventeen and to know that the one thing you’re good at, that thing that is your dream, is gone.”

“Then maybe you need to find some new ones,” she said so softly that it took a moment for her words to sink in.

“But what if I don’t want a new one? What if I can’t get past this?”

She stared at me for so long that my vision began to blur and that annoying tic in the back of my head began to press in hard.

Everly pushed her chair back and stepped around the table until she was beside me. Until she was kneeling on the floor. Again, this girl surprised me. We were in the middle of a restaurant.

“Then make it work,” she said, reaching for me.

I met her halfway, her mouth close to mine. “When you say that, it sounds easy,” I murmured.

Her hands were on either side of my face, and I couldn’t look anywhere other than into her eyes.

“It kind of is, Trevor. You have two choices. You can accept the way things are without trying to change them, or you can do everything that you have to do to get to where you want to be. Where you’re meant to be. It might be a different version of what you wanted, but that’s okay. We’re kids. We’re supposed to adapt.” Her mouth grazed mine. “I’ll help you,” she whispered.

I would have scooped her into my arms and kissed her until I couldn’t breathe, but someone cleared their throat and Everly began to giggle. She looked up at the waiter, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. For one perfect moment I saw the girl who completed me.

But then her expression wavered, and she slowly stood up, her eyes on the street behind me.

“Everly?” I followed her gaze, but there were so many people in the street heading down to the river for the fireworks that I wasn’t sure who she was looking at.

“Everly?” I asked again, standing up beside her.

“I…I have to go,” she said hoarsely.

What?

I barely had time to drop enough cash on the table to cover our bill and follow her out into the crowded street. By then, big fat drops of water were falling from the sky, the kind that splashed back up at you when they hit the ground. Everly was just ahead of me, and when she glanced back, I saw what was inside her. I saw it clear as day.

Hurt. Confusion. And fear.

It was the part of her that was broken, and it made me crazy to know that someone was responsible for it. I glanced at the hundreds of people around us with only one question in my head. Who could it possibly be?

Chapter Twenty-two

Everly