Chapter Six
The next day dragged slower than any ballad that I’d ever written. Even the light through the classroom windows looked heavy, all grey clouds and drizzle lazily dripping down the misted windows.
Study hall was usually quiet this time of morning, half the students sleeping, the rest pretending to focus on their assignments.
Hazel sat across from me, a colored pencil tucked behind her ear with others lying on the table, threatening to roll away from her if she didn’t pay attention.
She was focused on her sketchbook, drawing her popular chibi characters.
Today’s unfortunate victim looked way too much like me, judging by the long brown hair and the guitar in her lap.
“Hey,” I said, leaning forward to peek. “You gave me glasses.”
Hazel grinned without looking up. “You squint when you read too long. I’m sure you wear reading glasses when you work at home.”
I wasn’t going to tell her she was right.
“You just think it’s funny. Those glasses are even bigger than my head.”
“Duh,” she admitted. “Besides, I need filler art. The deadline’s next week.”
“What deadline?”
“Yearbook layouts. We have to finalize it all by the end of the month so we can send to the printer in April.”
“You are not putting a chibi me into the yearbook.”
“Too late,” she practically sang and finally looked up at me with a big grin.
I smiled faintly, tracing the edge of my notebook.
Hazel had a way of keeping things light, of seeing people without making it uncomfortable.
Maybe that came from the photography thing—she was so good at catching moments, not just faces.
Important moments, the kind where you know something in that person changed in that very moment.
“How’s the music coming along?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Slow. Everything’s been...slow.”
She studied me for a beat, her expression softening. “It’ll come back. It always does with you.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering what she meant. At the same time, I wanted to believe her. But lately, even my music felt stuck. Like the notes wouldn’t line up right no matter how hard I tried. Everything around me seemed to be moving forward while I was still standing in place.
Hazel went back to shading in her doodle of me, humming quietly under her breath. The soft scrape of her pencil filled the silence, steady and grounding. For a moment, it almost worked.
Then the clock seemed to slow down too much and the restlessness that had been sitting in my chest all morning came back, but with vengeance this time.
My focus kept slipping from my homework. One minute I was reading the words in the book, the next I was thinking about how Paxon had barely looked at me last night and then how concerned Seth sounded when he said goodnight.
I stood, pushing my chair back a little too quickly. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I said, grabbing my hall pass.
Hazel looked up, eyebrows lifting at the suddenness of my actions. “Want me to come with? I can take a break from my masterpiece.”
I snorted. “No. Keep at it. And don’t give me any more freckles. I don’t have freckles.”
“So you believe,” she mumbled, dipping her head back down to focus on her coloring. “You can’t deceive an artist’s eyes.”
After getting permission, I slipped into the hallway.
The air out here felt cooler and fresher. The floors were a bit dirty from people’s muddy shoes, so I was lightly squeaking as I walked. The hall was mostly empty except I could hear a low rumble of someone’s voice around the corner.
I turned and paused.
Bryan was leaning against the lockers near the exit, phone pressed to his ear. His mouth was tight, eyebrows furrowing. His voice was low but sharp, like every word was a battle to keep himself from snapping.
“No, Dad, I told you I haven’t decided yet,” he said, his tone clipped. A pause. “Because it’s my choice, that’s why. I know what you want, but—” He cut himself off, sighing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “I’ll call you later. I’m supposed to be in class.”
He hung up and stood there for a second, staring down at his phone before slipping it into his pocket. When he looked up and saw me, his expression shifted into surprise but then softened. He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’ve got perfect timing.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said, stepping closer.
“You didn’t.” He straightened, brushing his hands down his sweater like he could shake off the conversation. “You heading somewhere?”
“Bathroom,” I said.
He nodded once. “I’ll walk you.”
We started down the hall together, our footsteps echoing lightly. Bryan always walked like he was trying to keep his pace measured with me, even when something was bothering him.
“Everything okay?” I asked quietly.
He shrugged, his mouth tightening again. “Just my dad. College things.”
“College things,” I repeated. “That bad?”
He huffed out a laugh that didn’t sound real. “Depends on your definition of bad. He’s got his ideas. And while I used to go along with him.” He glanced my way. “I have other ones now. He doesn’t appreciate that.”
I remembered we talked about how his family wanted him to go into business and Bryan was more interested in something that led him toward security, like cyber security or maybe computer science. When he had explained it to me a few weeks ago, it was hard to follow.
We turned the corner. The hum of the lights above seemed louder here, and I realized I was gripping my hall pass a little too tightly.
“Have you gotten any acceptances yet?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice light, but the words felt a little trapped in my throat before I was able to push them out.
Bryan was quiet for a moment before answering. “Yeah, a couple.”
“That’s great,” I said, smiling even though he didn’t.
He adjusted his glasses. “Still deciding. I haven’t heard back from my top school yet, so I’m trying to keep my parents from losing their patience and forcing me into something I don’t want.”
“Which college?”
“Clarkson. They have a really cool hands-on program. It wouldn’t be far from here either, and I’ll probably do a hybrid of online and in person classes too. We’ll see how it works out.”
Clarkson. That was extremely big, and here I was thinking about which SUNY school would work for me. I did apply to that one, but I wasn’t holding my breath. We all applied to practically every college and university in the state.
Bryan sensed the dip in my emotions and wrapped his arm around me and even leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I’m making a prediction, since I know you applied too. We’re both going to make it in.”
I snorted and shook my head. “I doubt that.”
“Doubt all you want. It’s still happening. Besides, who cares if you don’t get in with me? These days, Ivy schools aren’t all that impressive anymore. It’s all about the skills and experience you bring, and you’re boiling with that.”
“It just won’t look as fancy as having Clarkson on my resume.”
Bryan snorted. “Maybe just to prove a point, once I graduate, I’ll keep it off.”
I drew in a breath and finally gave him a smile. “I hope you get in though. It’ll be tough if you’re on the other side of the country.”
“Fuck no. While the idea of being far away from my parents sounds great, even if I went that far, they’d still be nearby. I swear they have a place to live in every major city at this point. It’s safer to just stay here considering how much they have to travel to begin with.”
I laughed at that.
“How about you?”
“What about me?”
“Any acceptances yet?”
I shook my head, though my mind did go to the pile of mail that I’d been ignoring because I knew there were college responses in them. I wasn’t sure what was going on, I just knew I didn’t want to know. I was terrified of knowing even though I didn’t understand why.
Something I should probably talk to my therapist about, but I’d been avoiding that too and considering how much we’d been needing to talk about and go over, it wasn’t hard.
I’d rather work on learning how to face my emotions when it came to Lindie or the guys or my dad or from all the trauma that apparently piled up in the last year than deal with the idea of being accepted to college and creating even more distance between me and the guys.
“What else did you end up applying for? I know you were still going back and forth the last time we talked about it about some of the other schools.”
“I found a couple of SUNY schools who offer a program that sounded good.” I shrugged. “A couple of programs that actually deal with music therapy. It just makes sense, I guess.”
“It does,” Bryan said simply. No teasing, no joking. “You’ll be good at it.”
His words caught me off guard. I nodded, not trusting myself to respond.
He slowed as we reached the bathroom. “I’ll see you back in class?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Thanks for walking with me.”
“Anytime.” He leaned down and gave me a peck on my lips, pulling away with a genuine smile before heading back down the hall.
I watched him go, wishing we could just continue walking around while we talked. Instead, I went into the bathroom and decided I really did need to go.