Chapter Ten
When I got home, the house felt too quiet and it only made everything sound louder. The soft click of my keys hitting the counter, the hum of the refrigerator, the muted tick of the clock on the wall.
I went straight upstairs to my music studio, needing to do something to help quiet all the noise in my head. Music had always done that for me. I sat at my piano and traced the white keys gently, feeling their coldness against my fingertips.
I started with a few soft chords, minor, stretched too long.
The melody that came with them was uneven, hesitant, but it matched the way my chest felt.
I scribbled a few lyrics in my notebook, not ready to transfer them to sheet music yet.
I ended up crossing out half of them as soon as they hit the page.
“You said someday we’d find our light again,
But the sun keeps changing sides.
Every truth feels half-forgotten now,
And I’m running out of skies to hide.”
The words felt messy and uncertain. I didn’t know if it’d become a song or if it was just another string of thoughts trying to sound like one. But it was the first thing that made sense all day.
My phone buzzed, the sound startling me. The group chat notification lit up the screen.
Bryan: Seth’s. Game night. Get over here.
Toby: Mario Kart and snacks. We saved you a spot.
Justin: I’m already losing, so you’ll have my spot.
I smiled despite myself.
Cadence: Be there soon.
I quickly grabbed my things, ready to forget the lyrics that made no sense and yet perfect sense to me. By the time I reached Seth’s front door, the sound of laughter and shouting filtered through.
Inside, the warmth hit me first. Then the chaos. Bryan was yelling about someone cheating, Toby defending himself around a mouthful of chips.
“Candy!” Toby called out, chip crumbs shooting out of his mouth.
Seth looked up from the couch, controller in hand, a small grin tugging at his lips. “There you are,” he said. “We were about to send Bebe to drag you here.”
Bebe was curled on his dog bed, tail thumping lazily as he stared at me.
I laughed. “He’d win. I was working on a song.”
“Then you definitely need a break,” Bryan said, scooting over to make room. “We’re three rounds in and Seth’s cheating.”
“I’m not cheating, you’re just bad,” Seth said.
The easy rhythm of it all settled around me. For a few minutes it felt normal again.
At least until I noticed Paxon.
He sat at the end of the couch, a controller resting in his lap but untouched. His smile was faint, eyes distant. Every now and then, he’d glance toward the door.
I tried not to watch him. Tried not to let it show that I noticed.
When the next round ended, Paxon stood. “Hey, I actually need to get going,” he said, voice casual but thin around the edges.
Bryan frowned immediately. “What? We’ve barely been playing an hour.”
“Yeah, I know,” Paxon rubbed the back of his neck. “I just forgot I promised Cal I’d help him with something.”
Seth turned to him, controller lowering to his lap. The room quieted around us, even the TV sounded distant. I could practically hear my pulse in my ears.
“Cal’s seven, man,” Seth said evenly. “What could he suddenly need help with that you just so happened to have forgotten about?”
Paxon shifted his weight, his jaw tightening. “It’s just something for school. He—”
Bryan cut him off, leaning forward. “You serious right now? You’ve been ghosting half the time we hang out, and now you’re bailing again?”
“Bryan,” I said softly, but he didn’t look at me.
“No, I mean it,” Bryan went on, his tone sharper than usual. “You think we don’t notice? You think she doesn’t notice?”
My face tingled as all the blood left it and I paled. Paxon’s gaze flickered to me, then away again.
“This isn’t about that.”
“Then what’s it about?” Seth asked, quieter but firmer. “Because it’s starting to feel like you’re avoiding us or her. And I’m not buying the ‘busy with family’ excuse anymore.”
The air grew thick between them, between all of us.
Paxon’ shoulders stiffened. “I said it’s not that, okay? Just drop it.”
“Pax,” Justin said finally, his voice calm but edged with disappointment. “We care about you, but you don’t get to act like this doesn’t affect anyone.”
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Paxon snapped and the sudden bite of his voice startled even him.
Bryan practically jumped to his feet, his controller falling to the floor with a sharp clatter. “You are doing something wrong when you keep hurting her.”
I froze. The heat in my face, the way everyone’s attention shifted to me—I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s enough,” Seth said quickly, voice low, but no one was really listening to him. I could barely hear him with how loud my heart was hammering in my chest.
Paxon looked at Bryan, at Seth, then at me. For a second, something like regret flashed in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “I need to go,” he said again, softer this time.
I tried to keep my voice even. “It’s okay.” My words came out raspy. “You should go if you need to.”
He looked at me then, just for a second, and it was rough. The distance between us wasn’t just emotional, but real. And I gave him the permission he needed. He snagged his jacket and practically ran out the door. The door clicked shut behind him.
“What the hell is his problem?” Bryan asked.
“Bryan—” Seth started, but Bryan cut him off.
“No, seriously. He’s been acting like this for weeks. Cold, avoiding her. Avoiding all of us.”
Toby shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe he’s stressed.”
Justin shook his head. “Stressed doesn’t mean he gets to act like an ass.”
“Guys, stop,” I said, my voice cracking a little more than I intended. “Please. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Bryan shot back. “He’s hurting you, Cadence, and we’re just supposed to let him?”
Seth exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yelling about it isn’t going to help.”
“Well, maybe it’ll get through his head if he hears it loud enough,” Bryan snapped.
The tension between everyone stretched taut. I couldn’t take it. The heat pressing against my eyes, the guilt in my chest, all of it collided until I was sure I’d choke on it.
“I need to go,” I said quickly, standing before anyone could stop me.
Seth reached for me, but I pulled away.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Really. Just tired. Seeing my mom today took a lot out of me.”
The air outside was colder than I remembered, the night damp and heavy. I walked fast, hugging my arms around myself until I was back home where it was way too quiet.
And this time, the quiet felt more like a punishment. I’d ruined another night. Something that should have been enjoyed by everyone and my very presence shattered it.
I went back to my piano and pressed down a single note, the sound low and hollow.
Then another.
And another.
Until it filled the silence enough to drown out the ache in my chest.