My Starlight by Loryn Stone

Author:Loryn Stone [Stone, Loryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: #lesbianfiction, romance
ISBN: 9781988549583
Publisher: Affinity Rainbow Publications
Published: 2018-08-03T05:00:00+00:00

†

I put my pick in my mouth and let my bare fingers skim over the open A string of my acoustic bass. The sound that came from flesh to string as opposed to a pick tearing over the taut metal was warm, thick, and deep. I glanced up at Spencer, who had just finished changing the strings on the vintage acoustic Stratocaster guitar that some neighbor sold him. He tweaked one last tuning key and played a few chords, something with that peaceful “Greensleeves” kind of vibe to it.

The calmness of his playing was instantly soothing, affecting the air around us. Crossing my legs on the grass in my front yard, I matched my bass-playing to his guitar. Beside me, Serena was sitting between Darren’s legs with her back against his chest with a dreamy look on her face. One of his hands was entwined in hers. The other was rapping gently on a schoolbook, giving us a slight beat to go by though his finger gestured in a sort of soft carelessness.

It was Friday night, and we were having an impromptu acoustic Crimson Anvil jam session in my front yard. We were all going out together that night, and Spencer had wanted to show us the new acoustic guitar he scored, so we decided to meet up at my place before we all headed out together.

To a party at Danielle’s house.

I bit my lip to prevent my bottom lip from turning downward in a frown. Fortunately, Spencer’s guitar playing, so easy and consoling, was alleviating something inside me, cooling me, preventing some sort of flare up that threatened to burn me to ash.

The same feeling had fired up in me after the cosplay picnic last week. In spite of the fact that everyone who went had an awesome time, I was pretty upset that Danielle didn’t go. Okay, replace “pretty upset” with “downright livid” and you’ll get a better idea of what I was really feeling. By the time I made it home from the picnic, I was soaked through from the rain. One of the badges I’d superglued to my blazer even melted off. Another costume for the repair pile.

But I was so damn angry the whole walk home that I could have sworn the rain was evaporating off me in puffs of steam. Sure, it was my own fault, I’m not going to deny it. Serena’s mom offered to give me a ride home, but her tiny Mazda was already packed with Serena’s younger brother and sister. That little car was too full and too tiny to sufficiently contain my rage.

Plus, it didn’t start really pouring down until after I declined the ride and they’d driven off, so there’s that, too.

Therefore, I stomped the entire mile home, seething, just anger and hate. I crashed through my front door, kicking it open. My dad tried to tell me something, and I gave him the little hand gesture he gives me all the time, some Israeli thing where you pull your fingers together in this tight little claw and stop listening to people.

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