But I still needed to tell her I was ready to stop being an asshole and be the friend she wanted. To take care of her like she took care of me. Best to do it quick, like tearing off a Band-Aid.
“So, how are things with River?” I asked, unlatching my case.
She sat back on her bed, wary. “Why are you asking?”
“Beca
use you’re my friend. And I want you to be happy.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and her smile was so goddamn beautiful…
“Thank you. I want that for you too. I’ve missed you.” Her smile faltered. “But River? I’m not sure what’s there. If anything.”
“No?” My heart stood at attention and my plans instantly wanted to go up in flames. “Why not?”
She shrugged. “He seems interested but then he doesn’t. He asked me to Homecoming and then hasn’t texted since. It’s just weird.”
“Oh.” I pulled out my guitar and set it on my lap, pretending to mess with the frets. “You looked pretty happy with him at the pep rally.”
“That’s only because I have to work overtime with my formidable charm and wit just to make the barest of conversation,” she teased. “Hell, we played a kissing game, and he didn’t even kiss me.”
My head shot up, my heart taking off. “He didn’t?”
“It’s like he’s nervous around me, which has to be impossible, right?”
“No. Not impossible at all.” My voice had turned gruff. Thick. Violet noticed.
“So…what about you?” she asked, plucking an invisible piece of lint off her pajama pants. “Are you and Amber going to the dance?”
Was it my imagination that she sounded afraid of the answer? But afraid I’d say yes? Or no?
“I haven’t asked her yet. Don’t know that I’m going, anyway,” I added quickly.
Violet tucked a lock of raven black hair behind her ear, her eyes anywhere but on me. “So…shall we?”
I nodded as my every honorable intention walked away. The neutral song I’d been thinking about playing followed it out the door as well. “All I’ll Ever Want,” the song I’d wanted to sing to her on the eve of the first day of school, was now front and center.
“Ready?” she asked.
“What do I do?”
“Introduce yourself and tell us the name of the song you’re about to destroy us with.”
I sat on the edge of Violet’s bed, and she sat beside me, cross-legged, phone held up.
“Five, four, three…”
“So, hey. I’m Miller Stratton,” I said, suddenly nervous without the liquid courage of tequila I’d had at the party. The eye of Violet’s phone camera stared me down. “Uh, I’m from Santa Cruz, California…”
Suddenly, my knit beanie was itchy as hell. I took it off and scrubbed my hand through my hair. A few locks fell over my brow. Violet’s eyes widened and her breath caught. Probably because I was messing this all up. I whipped the hair out of my eyes, cleared my throat, and put my attention safely on my guitar.
“I’m going to play a song called ‘All I’ll Ever Want.’”
My fingers found the strings and strummed, creating sounds that helped make order out of my chaotic feelings. The emotions and harmonies were like twin currents that carried my voice, and my voice spoke the words—a hundred different ways of saying the same thing. Asking Violet the same thing—to fall in love with me the way I loved her.
At the last chorus, my voice rose up and my heart clenched, squeezing hard and emptying itself, giving everything.
Feels so good and feels so weak