Chapter Four #2
For someone so nice, she can look seriously intimidating.
I sit up a little straighter. “No. Sorry. I was just… daydreaming about dancing penguins coming out of your bag.”
Aston lets out a quiet chuckle, and Ella leans back just enough to glance at my screen before sitting upright again like nothing happened.
Susan studies me for a second. “You really do live in your own creative world, don’t you, Annie? Maybe try focusing on things that actually matter.”
I scoff before I can stop myself.
Her eyebrow lifts.
I exhale. “Okay, but seriously… how often in my music career am I going to use A plus B equals B plus A? I mean, what do we actually need this stuff for?”
Susan pauses, then walks back to her desk and sits down, folding her hands. “Do you not want me to teach you anymore, Annie?”
I frown immediately. “No, of course I do. I just think we should learn things we’ll actually use.”
“All right,” she says, leaning back slightly. “I’m listening. What would you rather learn?”
I narrow my eyes, not entirely convinced this isn’t a trap.
“Well… I’d rather learn something useful.
Like self-defense. Karate, MMA… something like that.
If we’re going to be rock stars, wouldn’t it make more sense to know how to handle ourselves instead of…
reciting equations at people?” I gesture vaguely toward the board.
“Algebra isn’t going to help with crazy fans, is it? ”
She smiles, amused.
“You’re right. Algebra won’t help you with that,” she says.
“Unfortunately, I’m not qualified to teach self-defense, so for now…
algebra will have to do.” I slump slightly in my chair.
“I suggest you pay attention,” she adds, her tone sharpening just a touch.
“Or I’ll have to speak to your father about your behavior again. ”
I groan. “Oh, c’mon, Susan. Don’t bring Dad into it. Fine, I’ll pay attention. But I’m going to sulk while I do it. That’s allowed, right?”
She laughs and nods. “That’s fine. Sulk all you like. Just stop emailing Aston and focus.”
Aston and I both freeze for a split second before slowly turning our heads toward each other.
How does she know?
He smirks.
I fight a smile and quickly close my email, turning back to the board as I attempt to focus on what is easily the most boring thing Susan has ever said in her entire life.
***
After a long, painfully boring day of school, Aston stayed back while Caleb and Chad came over, and we ended up having a jam session.
For the first time, Aston and I wrote a song together, with a little help from Caleb. It felt… right. Having him beside me like that, working through the music, made everything click in a way it hadn’t before.
I felt more at home with him there.
Now I’m finally in bed after what feels like the longest day ever. I’m still tired, still a little grumpy from being dragged out of that dream this morning, so crawling under the covers feels like heaven.
Ella went to bed hours ago, while I stayed downstairs in the music room, playing through the new song over and over until it finally felt finished.
I flick off my bedside lamp and roll onto my side, getting comfortable in my oversized bed, then I close my eyes, hoping that dream will come back, the one I lost.
My door creaks open.
I sigh and roll over, blinking into the dim light. Ella stands in the doorway, still in her designer pajamas… and she’s crying. “Are you awake?” she asks softly.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing myself up. “What’s wrong?”
“I had another dream.”
I shift, patting the mattress. “Come here.”
She closes the door behind her and climbs onto the bed. The second she sits down, I can see the tears streaking down her cheeks, so I pull her into a hug.
“Elle’s Bells… you know it’s not real, right?” I murmur.
She nods, wiping at her face. “But what if it is? What if it’s… like a memory or something?”
I shake my head gently. “Ella, you were six months old. You wouldn’t remember anything like that.”
She climbs further onto the bed, settling beside me, leaning back against the pillows.
“Their faces were dark,” she says quietly.
“I couldn’t see them. I never can. But I knew they were my parents.
” I stay quiet, letting her talk. “They were leaning over me… telling me they didn’t want me, that I was a waste of space.
That they wished I had never been born.”
My chest tightens, and I blink hard as tears sting my eyes.
Not just because she’s hurting.
Because I’ve thought the same things.
“Well… even if that were true,” I say carefully. “You know we’re better off here, right? With Mum and Dad.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I just… I wish the dreams would stop. They’re always different, but it’s always the same feeling. That they didn’t want me.” She swallows. “How are we supposed to deal with that?”
I don’t have an answer.
I hate that this is something we both carry. But at the same time… it is what ties us together.
We might not share blood, but we share this.
Our pasts. The parts we don’t understand.
“I think we just keep doing what we always do,” I say softly. “We talk to each other. We don’t deal with it alone.”
She leans into me, and I wrap my arm around her.
“You can come in here anytime,” I say. “You’re my sister, Ella. I love you. And I get it. I feel it too.”
“Don’t tell Mum or Dad,” she says quickly. “I don’t want them worrying.”
I nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t. This is ours.”
She sniffs, her breathing starting to settle. “Can I stay in here tonight?” she asks. “In case I dream again?”
My chest aches for her.
“Of course you can. As long as you need.”
She smiles faintly, then pulls the covers back and slides in beside me. I lie back, and she curls into my side, and I hold her close.
When she has these dreams, it’s not just her who needs the comfort.
It’s me too.
“Thank you, Annie,” she whispers.
I tighten my hold on her. “I love you, Ella.”