He smoothed his hands over his jeans, still glancing around the room.
Look at me! See me! I’m right here, damn you.
“I’ll never understand living that way.”
“Even when you’re a famous rock star?” I teased.
He finally turned to me, a serious expression on his face. “Even then. It’s not in me. I’m a simple guy, don’t need lavish.”
“No, I guess I can’t picture you in a place like this.” I shifted, tucking my leg under me so I could face him. “I can’t believe the summer’s almost over.”
He turned, meeting my gaze with a fleeting graze of his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed. “A lot of changes happening.”
“I like the new name. Unrequited. It’s catchy.”
His eyes flicked to mine. “Diego came up with it.”
I deflated all over, and my heart ached. Oh, Diego. The other day he’d come to me, earnest and sweet, saying the loveliest things. I’d been flattered beyond measure. He was gorgeous, any girl would be lucky to earn his affection, and he chose the chubby, kinda awkward southern girl who always felt like the odd one out.Helikedme, and in some upside down reality,I’drejectedhim.
“I guess he told you what happened.”
He let out a heavy, slow sigh. “Not the details. Just that he’s into you, and it’s not returned.”
I touched Santi’s forearm. “God, I’m so sorry. I like him…just not as more than a friend. I felt completely terrible.”
“You can’t force something that’s not there. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Maybe this was my opening. I could tell him the reason I didn’t feel the same about Diego was because my heart already belonged to another.
“Are you ready to go away to school?” he asked.
“Oh.” I studied my hand on his arm. My french manicure against his gray and black tattoos. “I don’t know if I’m goin’.”
His brow furrowed. “What? You have all those plans—hooking up with your old drumming instructor, finding a band, being free from your parents...what changed?”
“I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. What if I...what if I came on the road with y’all? I could help with equipment, be your assistant, do anything you need me to do. I know how to set up amps, and I can cook—”
“Maeve.” He said my name with so much anger, I trembled and let my hand fall from his arm. “No, Maeve. That’s not happening.”
“Are you mad at me?”
His hands balled into fists against his thighs, his jaw tight, flexing. “Yeah, I am. I really fucking am.”
“Why? What did I do?” I was near tears, despondent I’d let him down in some way.
“It’s what youwantto do. Give up on your own ambitions, your own drumming, to follow some shit band around? What the hell? That’s not who I thought you were.”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “No, I wouldn’t be giving up. I’m a drummer, even when I’m not drumming. That doesn’t mean I can’t put a pin in it and help y’all for a while. God, I want to. I’d do anything not to follow the path my mama wants me on.”
“If you’re not out there making music, working on your own goals, you’ll be miserable. You can’t follow someone else’s path just to get away from your mom. You’ll be stuck just as sure as you would if you stayed.”
“But…”
He crossed his arms over his chest, all hints of softness having left with my idiot idea. “No. That’s my answer. You have a dream, and I won’t let you kill it.”
I blinked back tears, but one still managed to escape down my cheek. Santiago swiped it away with the back of his hand. “Don’t cry, baby girl.”
That name made another tear slip, then another. “Is it because I turned Diego down?”