Chapter 14
Derek
I pluck the guitar strings casually, meeting the eyes of each kid in the room. On the periphery, I feel the sharp gazes of Dre, Allegra, and Buck. Nerves cause my stomach to twist. I pluck out another chord, closing my eyes and letting the music, the feel of my guitar in hand, to soothe me.
Releasing an exhale, I look around the half-moon of kids gathered around me. I’m sitting on a low stool in the center of the group home’s living room. The motley crew in front of me boasts a variety of ages, ethnicities, and attitudes.
The little girl with pigtails looks bored and pays more attention to the letters her index finger traces in the thin carpet.
The boy beside her, small-boned and sharp-eyed, watches me like a hawk.
In the back, a pre-teen glances over from the corner of his eye, curious but not wanting to appear eager.
I snort and shake my head. “Give me a request.”
A girl with ginger-colored corkscrews raises her hand politely.
“Teacher’s pet.” The girl beside her rolls her eyes.
I grin. “Let me hear it, ginger.”
Her eyebrows lift and she glances to the girls on either side before she realizes I’m talking to her. “Miley Cyrus’s song ‘Flowers,’ please.”
Dre’s snicker, concealed as a cough, rings out and I fight the urge to flip him off because, kids.
“You got it,” I tell the little girl. Her eyes light up and something weird tugs in my chest. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Sarah,” she answers excitedly.
“Great choice, Sarah.” Miley may not be my jam but who am I to begrudge Sarah with the corkscrews?
I strum the opening notes and put my own twist on the lyrics, singing for the group. When I’m done, they clap their hands enthusiastically and I chuckle.
“Okay, let’s get Sarah up here first. You’re gonna learn to play C chord.” I gesture for her to come closer and hold out my guitar.
“Me?” she gasps.
“Yep. And we’re all going to encourage Sarah,” I tell her snarky friends.
As I demonstrate a simple C chord, the kids lean closer.
I run through it a few times, helping Sarah position her fingers correctly.
Her friends call out a few encouraging words or gentle critiques and slowly, we learn C, Em, and G chords.
The kids all take a turn, even the pre-teen that glowers at me.
I grin in response. “What’s your name?”
“Jem.” He lifts his chin, daring me to poke fun at his name.
“Derek,” I reply.
“We all know who you are, man.”
“Good. Now I know you too.”
He rears back at my response.
“You’re in charge of helping the kids practice their chords,” I tell him.
“What? Why?” he whines.
“You’re the oldest here.” I glance at Dre for confirmation and when my friend nods, I push my guitar into Jem’s chest. “This is for you. Gotta step up for the younger ones.”
He scoffs and opens his mouth to flip me bullshit, but I shut it down.
“Sarah, scootch over. You and Jem are going to learn the beginning of ‘Flowers.’ Then, Jem’s going to help you perfect it before your next lesson.”
“You’re coming back?” Sarah squeals, genuinely excited.
That weird sensation zips in my chest again. Fuck, these damn kids. I drop my chin. “Yeah, girl. I’ll come back.”
I ignore Allegra’s sharp inhale.
“Come on, Jem! We gotta learn.” Sarah pinches Jem’s side.
Jem narrows his eyes and in their depths, I read his wariness.
Distrust. Kid reminds me of Dre and myself, and I’m drawn to him as much as I detest the shadows in his gaze.
He’s grown up too fast, seen too much. It’s made him hard but at his core, there’s a softness. There’s that flicker of fucked-up hope.
“Sit down,” I instruct. He does.
Then, I teach the group the opening to Miley Cyrus’s song. When Sarah gets it right, they all whoop and cheer. Even Jem smiles and nudges her playfully.
I glance over my shoulder and catch Dre’s eyes.
He lifts his chin in my direction, letting me know that he sees it too.
Jem as the hard-ass wannabe; Sarah as the enthusiastic light.
Once upon a time, Dre was Jem, and I was Sarah.
That was our bond. But when it all fell apart and came back together, Dre searched for good, and I let the darkness reign.
Shaking my head, I turn back to the music group and end our first lesson.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Reign,” Buck comments.
I snort. “Me neither,” I admit. “Thanks for the coffee.”
He tips his head in understanding. We’re standing on the back porch, watching as Dre runs the kids through a series of soccer drills for some upcoming camp he’s conducting.
Allegra helps carry out Dre’s instructions and gives each kid some one-on-one pointers.
I should have bounced by now and yet, I’m still here, watching this group of kids.
Reliving parts of my past through shattered lenses.
Some of the bad seems better. Some of the good seems worse. The whole thing is cracked, like a kaleidoscope of shifting shapes and varying colors, in my mind. I can’t stop glancing at Jem. And Sarah.
“You’re welcome anytime,” Buck offers.
“I know. It’s just weird.”
“It’s tough. Coming back.”
I give him a look and he hides his grin behind a swig of coffee.
“She doing okay?” I tilt my head toward Allegra.
“More than okay. She’s made this summer better, maybe even the best yet, for a lot of these kids.” He shakes his head. “No clue where she gets the energy.”
I snicker. “Getting tired, old man?”
He laughs. “Can still best you, Reign.”
“I know it,” I agree, taking a pull of my coffee.
Buck’s been Dre’s mentor for years. He helped Dre turn the corner, get his life on the up-and-up, and give back to a community who needs him.
For every step forward Dre took, I backpedaled.
But Buck never held it against me. He still greets me like my fuckup wasn’t responsible for Dre shivering on fucking street corners or eating at soup kitchens.
He forgives me with the same sincerity as Dre and it hurts.
It guts me to know that these two men still want a failure like me around.
Dre blows his whistle just as I take a sip of my coffee. The sound startles me, and I fumble the cup, swearing when I spill some coffee on my shirt.
Buck chuckles.
Shaking my head, I wait for Dre to wrap up his final pointers. Once the kids are washing up for supper, I head toward him.
“Thanks for coming, man,” he says, grasping my fingers and pulling me into a hug that ends with his big bear hand slapping me on the back.
“Yeah,” I say, not admitting that I had fun. That it was better than I expected. That Jem and Sarah are going to stick with me.
“See you next week?” he pulls back.
I don’t miss the question in his voice. “Yeah.” I nod to confirm that I’m in. I’ll do music lessons at the group home.
Dre grins.
Allegra steps in our direction.
Dre points at her. “Get out of here, Allegra Rousell. You’re off the clock.”
She smiles. “See you tomorrow, Dre.”
“See you, girl.” He smacks my shoulder. “And you.” Then he walks toward Buck on the porch and the two of them disappear inside the house.
I stuff my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels, studying the brunette beauty infiltrating my thoughts. My dreams. My goddamn life.
She’s kept her distance and still, I crave her. Recall the way she tastes, how she feels, the way she makes my blood sing.
“Hungry?” I ask, surprising us both.
Her eyes flare but she slips her hands in the back pockets of her cut-off shorts and appraises me thoughtfully. “I can eat.”