Just One Song by Lynn Stacey

Author:Lynn, Stacey [Lynn, Stacey]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2013-04-09T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I fall asleep as soon I reach home again, emotionally exhausted from my meeting with Natalie. When I wake up, I feel a little lighter. It’s unnerving that suddenly, somehow, I’m okay with everything I just allowed, or at least gave my blessing to.

Or maybe I’ve completely lost my mind and I have no idea what I just agreed to or the ramifications it will cause.

I want to call Mia and tell her. I want to call Zack and throw my arms around him and let him comfort me as only he can. I want to hug Mark and squeeze Andrew and erase the sixteen months.

But I can’t do any of it. Zack is who knows where, probably on his way back to L.A., Mia will only make me call him, and even though I want to feel his arms around me, I don’t know if I can. Even now that I’ve talked to Natalie, I’m not sure it changes anything between me and him.

I do desperately want to see Mark. It’s been too long since I sat and talked with them. I haven’t visited since I got back from the tour; not knowing what to say, which is silly, really. I drag myself out of bed and go to the bathroom to fix my hair and ruined make-up.

I frown when I look in the mirror. My face looks sallow. My eyes are lifeless. Smudged mascara runs down my cheeks and under my eyes and my hair is slightly ratted from sleeping on it. I brush my hair, remove my make-up and after a quick flicker of blush across my cheeks, I realize it doesn’t matter how I look. I’m going to look just as bad, if not worse, by the time I’m done.

I answer my phone when I hear Mia’s ring tone spark to life in my kitchen.

“Hey,” I say solemnly. It’s just been that kind of day.

“Are you okay?” Of course she would notice immediately, and not let it pass.

“Yeah. Sort of. I’m on my way out, what’s up?” I don’t tell her where I’m going. I spent so much time at the cemetery after they were buried, my parents and Mia started keeping track of how often I went so I wasn’t there crying every day. I got a lot better as the months went by, allowing myself one trip a week, but there’s something different about today, and I don’t want her knowing.

She sounds cautious when she speaks again. “You left something on the bus. Chase sent it to me.” I rack my brain trying to think of anything I haven’t been able to find since I unpacked. Whatever it is can’t be that important because I haven’t been missing anything.

“Can’t it wait?”

“No. It really can’t. Just meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?” She hangs up before I can answer.

I kill a few minutes, taking longer than necessary to pull on my boots and find my scarf and my winter coat. It’s fall, mid-November, and so cold today I feel like it could snow at any moment.

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