Chapter Fifteen
Raven
Desperately seeking the writer of this song:
“I Don’t Need Your Kisses.”
If you know who this person is, please call, text, or talk to Kylen Barrett.
It’s very important. Thanks!
I stare at the sign hanging on my locker as my heart plummets to the floor. Oh my gosh. Kylen has it? How in the world did he get it?
My lungs feel like they’re stuffed with cotton and my vision grows spotty. He has the song I wrote about him. About us and everything we went through.
My face and entire body are hot. I need air. I need to get away from here. I need to be anywhere but this building.
“Hey!”
My vision is still spotty, but I can make out my friends standing before me.
“Raven? Everything okay?” Sophie asks.
Since I can hardly breathe or see or even think, I point my finger at my locker and all the lockers around us.
With their eyebrows furrowed, they turn around to see what has me twisted in a ball of panic.
“Your song?” Addie whispers.
With my breathing still heavy, I nod. “Guys, he has it. Kylen has it!”
Carly pats my back. “Take a deep breath, Raven. Just breathe.”
I try, but it’s not really working. “What am I going to do?” I say like I’m in a daze. Like this can’t be my life right now. “Did he take it from me? How in heaven’s name does he have it?”
They give me looks like they have no idea. How could he have taken it when I didn’t even come into contact with him that day?
“Do you think he knows you wrote it?” Addie asks with wide eyes. “You said it’s not obvious.”
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
The worst thing would be for him to know the song is about him, especially because he never shared my feelings.
“I wanted the earth to swallow me up before, but I want it even more right now. I can’t show my face. I need to get out of here.”
I turn to make a mad dash to the door, but the bell makes me freeze in place. Right, school. I can’t just ditch.
“Raven, calm down,” Carly says. “If he doesn’t suspect you wrote it, then it’s just a random song he found.”
“But what if he eventually figures it out? I mean, I play guitar, I walk around with my lyrics notebook and folder. Maybe he’s seen me write. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe he read it.” I bury my face in my hands.
Addie, Carly, and Sophie wrap their arms around me.
“It’ll be okay,” Addie says. “Let’s just hope he won’t suspect you wrote it.”
“And who knows?” Carly adds with an encouraging smile. “Maybe he’ll forget about it.”
Hopefully she’s right. Hopefully I am freaking out over nothing.
***
A few days have passed and I’m feeling a little better. The posters have mostly been removed from the lockers because most kids don’t want that stuff on them, and Kylen hasn’t really said anything to anyone about the song. I think Carly is right and he doesn’t care about it anymore.
During lunch, I’m chatting and laughing with my friends and the guys when all of a sudden four boys jog into the dining hall.
It’s Kylen, Beck, Jasper, and Leo. Beck’s banging his drumsticks on a small drum that hangs over his chest, Leo and Jasper are strumming their guitars, and Kylen’s playing guitar while singing a song.
My song.
The one he was supposed to forget.
My heart skips a beat as I listen to his voice. It’s very pretty. And the way he sings the words I wrote, with such care and meaning, it’s like he’s putting his all into the song.
My face feels like a furnace as it dawns on me that every single kid at school is listening to him right now. My failed first romance might as well be broadcasted to the entire world.
Everyone smiles and claps along as he sings, Jasper, Leo, and Beck backing him up. He goes around the tables, belting, smiling, and emphasizing every single word like they each carry their own special message.
This is mortifying. So, so mortifying.
My friends stare at me with wide eyes like they have no idea what’s going on or what to make of it.
Why doesn’t Kylen give up? Why is he so obsessed with this song? There are so many other great songs out there he could have performed.
Even if I wanted to flee from here, I can’t because that would make it so obvious that I wrote it. So I have to sit here with my entire body on fire with embarrassment as he sings my emotions to the world.
This can’t be happening. Please someone tell me this is a nightmare.
The crowd erupts in cheers as his voice grows louder with the climax of the song. The smile on his face is so electrifying, I can’t help but feel it all over.
Under other circumstances, I might have let myself enjoy it—he does have an amazing voice—but because this is way too mortifying, I keep my head lowered and my gaze in my lap. Of course, my eyes have minds of their own and shift in his direction.
Bending to my friends, I hiss, “He didn’t forget about it.”
“Clearly,” Addie hisses back.
He finishes the song and takes a bow, the others bowing on either side of him.
“Thanks so much!” Kylen says, eyes sweeping over the students.
“That was a song written by a very special, but mysterious person. We’ve been searching for this writer for days, but he or she hasn’t come forward.
If anyone knows who this person is, please let us know.
We’d really love to thank you and give you all the praise for the song. ” He bows his head.
Whispers spread over the room. But no one stands or claims ownership. Other than a few losers who pretend they wrote it, but Kylen sees right through their BS.
His eyes sweep over the room again, filling with despair. When they connect with mine, they pause for a second, then skim over me like he’s not interested in me.
A breath I didn’t know I was holding seeps out of me. He looked over me as if he has no inkling at all that I wrote it. When I tell that to my friends, Sophie says, “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yeah, it is.” Or it should be. Why does it bother me that he doesn’t even suspect I wrote it?
Am I crazy? First I complained that he would suspect I did, and now I’m upset that he hasn’t? I’m totally going insane.
When he realizes that he’s not going to find the person, he thanks everyone for listening and leaves the dining hall, his shoulders hunched.
I still don’t understand why it’s so important that he uncovers the identity of the writer. I mean, it’s just a song. Sure, it means a lot to me, but it shouldn’t mean that much to anyone else. Or him.