Chapter 31
Seeing our dilapidated tour bus turn down the tree-lined street of the rental house—hitting some low-hanging branches along the way—makes me both queasy and excited. While our time apart has been much needed, it hits me how greatly I’ve missed these assholes.
Harry’s the first one off, and he bounds over to me and Darcy, scooping us up in a group hug that has us giggling like little kids.
“I’ve missed you two,” he says, squeezing us tighter. “You better not have had too much fun without me.”
“I take it you aren’t still mad at me?” I ask him, poking him in the ribs.
He pulls back, features fixed in a serious expression. “I was never mad at you, Cub.”
“You thought I was fraternizing with the enemy.”
He blows out a deep breath, blinking up to the sky for a beat. “I was overwhelmed by everything I was hearing, yeah. I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t talk to us about Connor contacting you, and I got caught up in the rumors and didn’t know what to believe.”
An indignant huff squeaks out of me.
“And, obviously, I should have believed you,” he says, grabbing the point of my chin between his index finger and thumb, making me soak in his frank expression. “I know that. I’m sorry.”
“I’d never fake cheat on you,” I say with a half smile. “And I certainly would never abandon you lot to join forces with Connor,” I add as the others join us. “I’d rather eat my own hand before stooping that low.”
“Good to see you, Cubby,” Kevin says, giving me a pat on the back. “And glad to see your cheeks back to an almost normal size. Think you’ll look, er, better in time for the show?”
“Great to see you too, Kev. I’ve missed your gentle way with words.”
“How are you feeling?” Deja asks as she sneaks in for a hug. Skull waves at me over her shoulder.
“Much better. Everything seems to be healing up well.”
“She’s a tough one,” Darcy says, giving my cheek a soft pat. Every cell in my body lights up.
“Can we go inside or would you rather we sweat to death in the appalling humidity?” Kale drones, looking—what a shocker—put-out.
It takes everything in me to not roll my eyes. “Missed you too, you cruciferous veggie.” With a tortured sigh, he takes the lead into the house.
“It’s amazing none of us have strangled him yet,” Darcy mumbles to me and Harry.
I laugh, but Harry clicks his tongue against his teeth in a sound that’s almost … chiding?
“He’s not all that bad,” Harry says, eyes fixed ahead on Kale. “We actually met up over our break.”
Darcy and I stop in our tracks.
“You willingly spent time with him outside of band stuff?” she asks, face scrunched. “Are you all right?”
Harry’s chuckle is rough. “Believe it or not, we had a really good time hanging out. We … got close.”
Darcy and I stare at him, red crawling up his neck and cheeks.
“Close?” Darcy repeats. The color deepens. “How close?”
Harry pulls a face. “Oh my God, come off it. Can we get inside? I have to piss.”
“There’s something he’s not telling us,” Darcy hisses into my ear. “I need to know.”
“Let it go,” I warn. “There are things we’re not telling him.” Her smile falls and my heart sinks with it.
“Right. Yeah. ’Course.” She moves swiftly into the house, and I follow behind.
“Can we talk privately?” Kale asks the second I step through the door.
“I’d prefer to have witnesses.”
He grimaces. “Well, I’m planning on being semi-nice to you, so I’d rather avoid anyone observing.”
I can’t help the shock on my face. “Uh … Well … We can talk in here.” I lead us into the kitchen, and we take spots on opposite sides of the island, sizing each other up.
“Your cheeks are still a little swollen, huh?” he starts.
“I didn’t have very high expectations for semi-nice you, but you still slid right under them, didn’t you?”
Kale laughs, hanging his head. “I’m sorry.”
And something about the sad, frustrated breath he lets out has me believing he might actually mean it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation go well,” he continues, eyes still fixed on the floor. “All my life I’ve managed to say the wrong thing. I meant that in a concerned way, like I hope you’re doing okay.”
“I’m doing okay,” I whisper. “Are you, uh … doing okay?”
Kale lifts his gaze to me. “Yeah. I’m doing okay.”
We’re quiet for a long time, the chatter and laughter of the others drifting in from the living room.
“I, um…” He drags his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of a dick to you all summer.”
“You have,” I agree. “But I haven’t been much of a delight myself.”
Kale smiles at that. “Not always, no.”
Something unwinds between us, cords of animosity finding some give.
He clears his throat. “It’s … Well, it’s not an excuse, but I care about music.
So much. It’s the only thing I’ve ever found where I sort of …
fit. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear I don’t have many friends, and my breakup with my ex was anything but amicable, and I’ve already told you how much I suck at communication and …
yeah. Music is my way of being part of something.
Connecting with others. So I’m defensive and protective of it.
And then I sort of started to care about all of you and I …
I panicked that it was going to get taken away.
And I overreacted.” He says all of this in a blur, color rising on his cheeks as he talks, not fully meeting my eyes like he’s mortified to be confiding in me.
“I understand,” I say when he takes a breath. “My brother is actually a lot like that. He wants so badly to connect with the world, but spoken words aren’t his way. I’m sorry it felt like I was threatening something so important to you.”
Kale swallows, blinking back to me. I reach across the island, leaving my palm up. He stares at my outstretched hand for a moment before taking it. We do an awkward little squeeze thing back and forth that makes us both laugh.
“Can we call a truce?” I ask.
Kale nods. “Yes. As long as I can still bring you back to reality when you’re being dramatic.”
“And as long as I can point out when you’re being a prig, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Kale smiles, and we shake on it.
“We better get working on the final song,” I say, letting him go. “You, uh, probably won’t be very impressed with the virtual nothing Darcy and I have.”
“Wow. You? Under-delivering on a deadline? Shocker.” His smile is good-natured, and I laugh.
“I want semi-nice Kale back because regular Kale is about to get a swift kick to the bollocks.”
“Did I say that out loud? I meant, I’m sure whatever progress you two made on this very important piece of music that could have lasting implications on the trajectory of our careers is perfect and way ahead of the curve and will only need some light, collaborative tweaking.”
I give him a sugary smile before flipping him off. I turn to leave, but with my hand on the kitchen door, he says my name. Quietly. Frantically. Something like a plea in the way his voice lilts. I look at him over my shoulder.
“Is … is any of it real between you and Harry?” he asks, tone low and words rushed. His eyes flick to the door, then back to me.
My heart twists. How do I answer that?
“I love Harry very much,” I say slowly. “He’s one of the best people I know, and, maybe in some other life, he’s somebody I’d end up with.”
Kale’s face is pale, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “But in this life?”
I take a deep breath, smile honest but wobbly as I meet Kale’s eyes. “In this life, I’m lucky he’s one of my best friends.”