16 #2
I nod and shove a larger spoonful in my mouth. Huh. Who knew I liked Rocky Road?
“So.” I move to lean against the table beside Val. “Have you heard me play before?” I scoop up another bite. “Aside from Freshman year.”
The light in her eyes dims again. But she looks down before I can think of a reason why.
“Uh, yeah,” she nods. “A few times.”
“How many?”
She pushes a chocolate chip from one side of her cup to the other. “Probably every time you’ve ever played somewhere.”
“What?” I nearly choke on my bite. “Seriously?”
I saw her at the Senior party a few weeks ago, but I was looking for her.
I wanted to know if she thought I was good.
And I found her. In the back of the room, watching me—not up front screaming like the other girls were.
But I honestly never thought she was at my other shows. Much less all of them.
“I always thought you were going to drop out of college to become a rockstar,” she tells me quietly. “Since you didn’t, I wanted to be one of those people who could say I went to your shows before you were famous.”
She…she thinks I can be more than this? That—I don’t know how to feel about that, actually. I look down at my ice cream as an excuse not to look at her as I whisper, “You give me too much credit.”
I want to feel happy. I want this to be my moment of realization that I can actually follow my dreams. But some dreams aren’t meant to be followed. The only problem with that is I don’t know who else I could be.
“I guess that’s why I’m so hard on myself,” Val’s soft voice pulls my attention back to her. “I’ve given all my faith to you.”
She looks back at her ice cream, unable to hold my gaze. And that makes me wonder. “I’ve never seen you at a show. And I’ve had quite a few.”
How have I never seen this girl at any of my shows? She’s been to every one of them, and I’ve only seen her once.
She stirs her ice cream slowly. “You were always looking at someone else. Some other girl. And I always stayed in the back anyway.”
“Why didn’t you ever come up to me afterward? Or be closer during the performance? Or better yet, just come on stage with me.” I try to smile, but she doesn’t.
“Honestly, I don’t think you would have seen me even if I did. Those girls always had your full attention. I would have just faded into the background.”
Is she jealous? No, right? She’s too sad to be jealous. Or can jealousy be sad? I’ve only ever known it to be angry. But if it’s not jealousy, why is she so sad about me not noticing her at my shows?
Sure, it’s true that the girls in the front always captured my attention. But I didn’t think there was anyone else to look at. That was my thing. Singing to the girls in the front row. And then take one of them backstage where we’d—
“All right. Speed round. You ready?” I say quickly to push those thoughts out of my head. I can’t think about who I was when I’m trying to be someone better.
Val looks up at me.
Someone for her.
“For what?” she asks.
“Questions, Love. It’s time to actually find out shit about each other.”
She winces. “More advice. Don’t call learning something about your girlfriend shit.”
I shrug. “You ready?”
She takes a deep breath and nods, turning her body more in my direction.
“Favorite color.” She takes a second to think. “Speed round, Valentine. Gotta get this out fast.”
“Okay, okay. Green,” she answers with a hint of a smile.
That’s a start at least. Not the full smile I need, but we’ll get there.
“Favorite—”
“No. You have to answer these, too. It’s only fair.”
She’s right, but I roll my eyes anyway. “Fine. Green.”
“Are you just copying me?” she asks.
I smile teasingly. “Are you just copying me?” I repeat like a child.
She narrows her eyes before scooping up a large spoonful of ice cream, and based off the normal-sized bites she’s been taking, that one’s aimed for me.
I wave my hands between us and laugh. “Okay, okay. I surrender. But seriously. My favorite color is green.” And I never thought having the same favorite color as someone would mean so much.
She rolls her eyes, but a bigger smile peeks through.
That’s better.
“Fine. Next one.” She dumps half of the ice cream off her spoon to take a normal-sized bite.
“Favorite song.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not telling you that.”
My head tilts slightly. “And why’s that?”
“I think that out of all of your favorites in the world, your favorite song is the one that represents you the most. You can fall in love with characters or elements, but lyrics hit you differently, and they represent your most vulnerable state.” She pauses, her eyes lifting to mine sheepishly. “Does that make sense?”
If I could kiss her right now, I would. It’s the best answer I’ve heard to that question, so I nod. “Favorite artist.”
“In music or actual art?”
I shrug. “Both.” Not that I know any actual artists. Except for her. Would it be too much to say she’s my favorite artist? That would, wouldn’t it?
“Music, Taylor Swift.”
Okay, I was not expecting that. “Really?
Her eyebrows crease. “Why really?”
“I don’t know. You just seem like someone who would like a band that no one’s ever heard of. Or some indie artist just getting started.”
Her being a fan of one of the most, if not the most, famous pop singers of our time doesn’t fit.
Her favorite artist being Taylor Swift is about as accurate as her being comfortable in the clothes she wears.
I know she’s not. Not that she’ll ever admit that.
She hasn’t learned to branch out yet, and her taste in music reflects that.
She suddenly smiles up at me. “Okay. Then I have a new one.”
“Tell me.”
Her smile brightens again. “You.”
I’d do anything to keep that smile on her face. But this? This I can’t keep up the act for. I weakly smile back at her and then stare at the ground.
“What is it?” she asks softly.
I shake my head. “I’m not an artist, Valentina. I sing covers of the greats before me. But that’s all.”
She grips my arm tightly, making me look at her. “You will be though,” she says with enough force that I nearly believe her. “One day, you will be selling out stadiums and producing platinum records. And you’ll be my favorite artist. Taylor Swift who.”
God, I love this girl.
“I’d be careful who you say that around. You might get jumped.” Oh god. Why did I put that thought in my head? I glance around just to make sure that the ice cream guy isn’t watching her. And now I’m officially paranoid.
She leans closer to me. “Well, I’m saying it to you. And you won’t hurt me, right?”
If I ever did, the world could stab me a million times over. And even then, I wouldn’t be punished enough. “I’ll never hurt you, Valentina.”
She smiles and pulls herself closer to me. “You cold?” She shakes her head, but I wrap my arm around her anyway.
Anything to keep her close.
Anything to hold onto this moment that I hope I never forget.
The moment the girl of my dreams made me feel like I could one day be enough.