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“What are you saying?” The words feelhollow.
“That maybe we should take some room to breathe while we get through the showcase and focus on ourdreams.”
The clawing feeling in my chest wants to argue with her that we can do both, but the look on her face stopsme.
It’s not a goodbye, but it fucking feels like it. Anything but her coming home with me tonight is suddenlyinsufficient.
When Annie turns to head for the stage doors, my heart goes withher.
17
“Have you talked to your dad?”Elle whispers from her spot next to me in the last row ofpews.
I shake my head. “And the deposit that usually comes to my account isn’tthere.”
Elle takes the Bible in the pew in front of her, fingering the pages. “Thatsucks.”
We’re at the funeral of a man I don’t know—a banker, apparently, who loved fly fishing. No one seems particularly torn up he’s gone except for a woman we passed on the way in who said she was his granddaughter. I gave her the entire stash of tissues from my bag, and the guilt I felt for being here was washed out by the gratitude on herface.
It’s been nearly a week since my dad showed up in New York and I told Tyler I neededspace.
Since then, we’ve rehearsed together three times at school, separately between that. I haven’t been to his place, and he hasn’t come to my room. He doesn’t try to pressure me when we’retogether.
I’m grateful. I know deep down I can’t blame Tyler for having a relationship with my dad, but I can’t go there right now—not with the showcase looming. It’s the biggest chance for both of us to grab what we’ve wanted for solong.
“It’s fine,” I tell my friend. “I’ll get loans, and a job. I just wish everyone didn’t suddenly know who I am and whisper in the halls. I thought Rae and I were getting along, but I don’t know who else would’ve spread theword.”
Elle huffs out a breath. “I asked him to take down thevideo.”
I blink. “Whatvideo?”
The service concludes, and I grab Elle’s sleeve, tug her after me down the row and out the door into the grayday.
My friend pulls up her phone, and I see an entry on Beck’s vlog captioned: “Jax Jamieson’s daughter crushing it,” accompanied by a video of me performing atLeo’s.
“Are you kiddingme?”
I hit his contact on myphone.
“What’s up, Manatee?” Beckdrawls.
“You put me on yourvlog?!”
I can hear the confusion in his voice. “Come on. People spotted your pop at Vanier this week. It’s public knowledge now. Besides, I’m proud ofyou.”
The backs of my eyes burn, but he continues. “What were you gonna do? Lieforever?”
“Maybe.” I realize how dumb itsounds.
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. All we want in this place is to have someone notice us, and you have an excuse right there in your name and you don’t useit.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t,” I insist. “Come on Beck—would you want that? If your dad was your ticket to being noticed, but he still disapproved of you, would you want that to be the very thing that makes your dreams cometrue?”
He turns it over. “No,” he says at last. “It wouldn’t be my dreamanymore.”
“Exactly.”
The truth of it hangs between us for a moment before Beck speaks again. “I’ll take itdown.”
