Chapter 20
Violet waltzed into the music room as I coaxed a final note from the song I was working on.
“Wow,” she said, halting halfway to the sitting area, a mesmerized expression on her face. “That was beautiful, Indie.”
“Thanks.” Not sure what else to say, I slid my bow into its holder. The spinner was getting loose, so I made a mental note to find a screwdriver and tighten it later before gently placing my violin into the velvet shell of its case.
Two days had passed since Violet’s birthday party, and while we’d accepted each other’s apology, things were still a bit awkward between us.
Which was to be expected. I knew we might never be able to return to the same easygoing relationship we shared before Immortal Nights.
Nearly five years of enmity were impossible to erase overnight.
We were going to have to work at being sisters again.
“I’ve never heard you play that before.” Her feet unfroze, and she gracefully lowered herself onto the sofa. “What’s it called?”
After shutting the lid, I snapped the silver latches into place. “Not sure yet,” I told her.
“Wait.” An astonished look returned to her features. “You wrote that?”
Wrote wasn’t the right word to describe what I’d been doing.
This was more of a battle than the idyllic state of creativity.
Ever since helping Xander and Alec at the recording studio, the suggestion of a song had been swirling at the back of my mind, just out of reach.
But unlike the melody for “Indigo Skies,” which had come to me in a matter of seconds, I’d been teasing this piece out one note at a time.
It was a frustrating process, but the awe in Violet’s voice when she asked if the song was mine? That made my efforts worth it.
I offered her a shrug. “It’s nothing. I’m just messing around. What’s up?”
Suddenly reminded of why she was here, Violet broke into a smile. “I finally got a hold of Jewel. She said she’d be happy to talk to her cousin about your Juilliard application. No guarantee it will result in something, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
“About that…” Tucking my bangs out of the way, I sank onto the leather cushion beside her. “Tell Jewel thank you for me but not to bother.”
“What?” Violet’s eyes went round. “Why in the world would you want me to do that?”
“Because I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting these past few days and, well—I don’t think it’s the right move for me.”
“I’m sorry, but in what world is Juilliard not the right move for you? Have you heard yourself playing? You’re incredible.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I replied, flapping my hand dismissively. “I’m talking about using your connections to get me into school. This whole situation is my fault. I need to own my mistake, and I can’t do that if you swoop in to solve the problem for me.”
“Indie,” Violet groaned, dragging a hand down her face in a dramatic, oh-come-on sort of way. “I understand you’re trying to turn over a new leaf, but don’t punish yourself by giving up Juilliard. This is your dream.”
I hesitated, then said, “It is…and it isn’t.”
A breath hitched in her throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The whole concert violinist thing. It’s not that I hate performing—truly, it’s really fun—but it doesn’t excite me,” I explained.
“That was always Mom’s passion, not mine, but she’s such an inspiration to me, I guess my dreams got tangled up and confused with hers.
I think that’s why I struggled so much with my application. Part of my heart wasn’t in it.”
The room was quiet as she processed my confession. “Okay,” she replied, and surprisingly, her voice was full of acceptance. “What are you going to do instead?”
“I got into to the Academy of Cinema Makeup. Now before you freak out, the program only takes a year to complete, and I’m not even sure I see a career path in makeup, but this is something that excites me.
I’m really, really good at it, Vi, and I want to explore that.
Meanwhile, I’ll have plenty of time to give my Juilliard application a good overhaul. ”
“But I thought you said you didn’t want—”
“I’m going to apply for the composition program next year,” I cut in before she could finish.
“When I was at the recording studio with Alec and Xander and I got to create music instead of just playing it? That felt right. I’ll have to compose two different scores if I want to get in, which is a little scary since I don’t have much experience, but I want this. ”
Violet considered for a long time. “Well,” she finally said, the corners of her mouth turning up into a dazzling smile, “based on what I heard when I came in, you’re already halfway there.”
* * *
“I’m going to the grocery store to get snacks for later,” Dad called over my music as he stepped into the garage. “Popcorn or ice cream?”
I stopped sweeping and hit Pause, cutting Diego St. James off midchorus.
“Really? How is that even a question?” I asked, setting the broom aside.
When I got home from school today, Dad asked me to tackle the mess left over from my portfolio, so for the past half hour, I’d been tidying up my workbench.
After dinner, however, the two of us planned on having a horror marathon.
While it was still premature to call Dad a changed man, two Thursday movie nights in a row seemed like a good start.
He stroked his chin in thought. “Both?”
“The only acceptable answer,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t forget chocolate syrup and sprinkles.”
Instead of heading for his sleek red Audi, Dad ambled over to me, a hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. “It’s good to see you smile again, Indie. I was starting to get worried. You seemed pretty miserable last week.”
“That’s because I was miserable.” I’d spent those days grieving.
Not just for a dream I’d dedicated my entire life to but for the bond with my sister I thought was forever shattered.
Now, however, I was thankful. Because every once in a while, the most effective way to fix something was by breaking it.
Only then could you put the pieces back together in a way that made sense.
“I’m fine now,” I reassured him. “I promise.”
“Because of this guy?” Dad asked. He dragged the metal shop stool out from underneath the workbench and took a seat. “Tell me about him.”
My brows sprang up at his request. “Really, Dad? We’re going to talk boys?”
“What’s wrong with wanting to know some basic information about the person my daughter is dating?” As if to make a point, he crossed his arms over his chest like he had no intention of moving until I shared. “I’m not asking for his Social Security number.”
“Okay, fine. His name is Xander, and yeah, he’s one of the reasons.
” But not the only one. There were several factors contributing to my current state of mind: a fresh start with Violet, a plan for my future I was actually excited about, new friends, and a better outlook on life.
I was happy now because I’d made the decision to be. “He’s a musician.”
“In the same band as Alec, right?”
Clearly Dad already knew the answer—he must have grilled Violet about the subject already—but I indulged him anyway. “That’s correct.”
“So he’s pretty famous then.” There was a glimmer of what looked like concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess,” I replied with a shrug, but Xander’s fame was the least important part of who he was.
To me, he was the boy with the most endearing, lopsided smile in the world.
The boy who always put others first and hummed Hank Williams to himself when he was lost in thought.
When I thought about Xander, I didn’t think of Xander Jones, lead guitarist for the Heartbreakers.
I thought about the guy who, from day one, had always been there for me.
“He’s on tour right now, but he’ll be back before Christmas.
Maybe we could all have dinner together? ”
This seemed to mollify Dad, because the anxious look faded from his expression. “That’s a great idea,” he said. “I can’t wait to meet him. The distance must be so hard for you two.”
It was, but as much as being apart sucked, we were getting really good at FaceTiming between the breaks in his hectic schedule.
And when that didn’t work, there was always texting.
At least one good thing had come from Violet’s career—all the time I’d spent alone had prepared me for this situation, and I knew Xander and I would get through the next eight months no problem.
“We’re making it work,” I told him.
Just yesterday, the sweetest package had been delivered to the house: a box filled to the brim with Mango Bite, a popular candy in India; a green alien plushy; and the first edition of The Clockwinders Saga, a comic about warriors working to stop an evil organization from changing the course of history by means of time travel.
Apparently JJ had seen Xander reading Lady Phoenix and thought I might like the series.
“Good, I’m glad.” Dad unhooked the sunglasses dangling from the collar of his shirt and slipped them on. “I should leave before traffic gets bad, but I’m curious to know what you think of my theme for tonight.”
“Which is?”
“Wait for it…” Dad did an over-the-top drum roll. “Demonic possessions!” he exclaimed with jazz hands. “I pulled out The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Insidious, and Paranormal Activity, but if you don’t like those options, we could always go with a classic like The Exorcist.”
Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was an incoming FaceTime from Galaxy Rider, the first I’d received in days. “Those all sound great, Dad, but do you mind if I take this? It’s Xander and—”
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Say no more. I’ll see you later, kiddo.”
I scrambled onto the vacated stool and punched the Talk button. When my boyfriend’s smiling face appeared on screen, I couldn’t help but grin. “Hey, you! What’s up?” Normally Xander called me from his hotel room, but today it looked like he was sitting in some kind of fancy lounge.
“Nothing much.” His tone was casual, bored even, but I didn’t believe him. Not when there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just wondering if you want to hit up the archery range with me tomorrow?”
“Oh,” I said, my shoulders sagging at his not-so-funny joke.
Ten more days, I reminded myself. That was how long I had to wait until he came home.
Not a long stretch of time when you looked at the bigger picture, but at the moment, it felt like an eternity.
“You know I’d love that, but considering you’re halfway around the world, I don’t think that’s a possibility. ”
His mouth quirked. “What if I just touched down at LAX?”
“For real?” I asked, unable to believe my own ears.
“As of two minutes ago.” He changed his camera view, and suddenly I realized exactly where Xander was.
Not a lounge like I’d first thought but on a private jet.
Alec, who was sprawled across a sofa opposite him, waved at me, and farther down the cabin, I spotted Oliver and JJ relaxing in leather recliners.
An uncharacteristically obnoxious squeal escaped me. “Oh my God! Xander, that’s—wait a minute.” I frowned, confusion tainting my sudden burst of joy. “Don’t you guys have a show tonight?” The second leg of the Heartbreakers’ tour didn’t wrap until December 20.
“We were supposed to,” he said, flipping the camera back around so I could see him, “but we had to postpone some of our dates.”
Well, shit. That didn’t sound good. “How come?”
Xander released such an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh that his bangs fluttered off his forehead. He flicked them out of the way and said, “Just a classic case of JJ being an utter moron.”
“Hey!” came a faint shout from the background. “I heard that!”
My grin was instant. “Now this sounds like a good story.”
He shrugged. “There isn’t much of one to tell. The hotel we were staying at has this huge, three-story staircase in the lobby. JJ thought it would be a good idea to slide down the railing, and his wrist paid the price.”
“Why am I not surprised,” I said, trying to contain a snort.
I could picture the scene in my head as if I’d been there to witness it: Oliver egging JJ on as he mounted the banister; Xander muttering under his breath about being surrounded by idiots; JJ’s lively cheers as he picked up speed; curious hotels guests watching as he flew out of control; a spectacular wipeout; and finally, Alec standing in the corner, earbuds in, pretending to have nothing to do with his bandmates. “Is he all right?”
“He’ll be fine,” Xander told me, his gaze flicking up in annoyance. “A doctor confirmed it’s only a sprain, not a broken bone, but he can’t play for at least a month. I figured I’d take advantage of my time off and come see you.”
His answer made my heart swell. What had I done to deserve a guy as sweet and caring as him? “Then I suppose I should be thanking JJ for his stupidity?”
“I know you’re a big proponent of thank-you cards, but knowing JJ, he’d prefer an Edible Arrangement. Or a stripper. Your choice.”
“Definitely a stripper!” I heard JJ call.
I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion. “That’s a bit tacky for my taste. What about a singing telegram?”
“As long as I get to see you tomorrow,” Xander said, the corners of his mouth jerking into my favorite crooked grin, the one that had stolen my heart, “I don’t care what you do. I’ll even spring for a sky banner.”
“Then I’ll be there,” I told him, because nothing would stop me from seeing him tomorrow. Not even an alien invasion.