Chapter Eight #2
It’s late, and I need to go back to bed, even though I spent all morning and most of the afternoon there.
I ended up hanging out with Dad for a couple of hours, playing Staked songs, and I’m so glad things feel less strained between us now.
It’s funny how music can pull people back together after everything’s gone sideways.
Even so, my thoughts keep drifting to Aston.
He’s been on my mind all day.
Maybe it’s because we were playing our songs.
Maybe it’s because of last night. Either way, the anger I felt toward him has started to soften, replaced by something closer to sympathy.
If he really feels something for me beyond friendship, then we’re going to have to sort that out, because there is no way anything can happen within the band.
That’s just asking for trouble, and Staked matters too much to risk it.
After saying goodnight to everyone, I head upstairs.
It’s only a little after ten, but I’m wiped out.
The emotional whiplash of the last twenty-four hours has completely drained me.
As I climb the stairs, I make a mental note to text Caleb and thank him properly.
It meant so much that he was there for me when I needed him.
When I step into my room, that now-familiar vibration rattles against my bedside table.
I close the door behind me and glance toward the flashing screen.
The room is dim except for the soft glow of the purple lanterns strung along my bedhead, casting everything in a dreamy haze.
It gives my room a romantic sort of feel, which is ironic, because while I guess I am a romantic at heart, the idea of having a boyfriend still feels like something I’m not ready for.
Not now.
Music is too important to me, and I’m not about to let anything get in the way of that.
I move over to the bed and see Aston’s name lighting up my screen again.
I let out a breath and sink onto the mattress, staring at the phone while it vibrates in my hand.
Honestly, I’m a little surprised he didn’t just turn up today, but he was probably too worried I’d told Dad everything.
And if Dad knew what had actually happened, Aston would be lucky to survive the conversation.
The phone stops vibrating.
A second later, it starts up again.
I frown.
The guy really doesn’t know when to quit.
I left my phone up here all day because I had a feeling he’d keep calling like this, and if I’m being honest… I miss him. It’s been nearly twenty-two hours since I last spoke to him, which is ridiculous for us. We never go that long without talking.
As the screen goes dark again, I tell myself that if he rings one more time, I’m turning the phone off.
But as I sit there staring at it, waiting for it to light up again, another thought creeps in.
What if I keep ignoring him until he gives up?
And even though I definitely do not want him as a boyfriend, I still want my best friend.
That thought alone makes my heart kick up.
What happens to the band if this gets weird between us? A group can’t function properly if two members are dodging each other, pretending nothing’s wrong. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.
I need to talk to him.
I pick up my phone and swipe to bring up his number just as it starts vibrating again in my hand. I jump slightly, then laugh under my breath before answering, “Hello?”
Aston exhales loudly. “Jesus, Annie. Did you take long enough to answer?” His tone is half teasing, half serious, and I’m not entirely sure which side wins.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been a bit out of it today.”
“Well, I’m just glad you finally answered,” he says, and I can hear the relief in his voice. “You were driving me crazy. I was worried about you… and about how you reacted last night.”
I bite my bottom lip. “I was just feeling weird, and I needed to get away for a bit.”
There’s a pause.
“Get away from me?”
The guilt hits instantly.
“I started feeling awkward,” I admit. “I didn’t really know what any of it meant. What happened with us, I mean.”
Silence stretches between us.
“Aston?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” His voice is quieter now. “I felt the awkwardness, too. But I don’t want that to come between us. If I need to pull back so we can still be friends, then I will.”
Something in me loosens at that.
“I think we need to keep the band in mind,” I say carefully. “That’s what matters most, right?”
He hesitates, and I hear him exhale. “Sure.” Another pause follows before he speaks again.
“And for the record, Annie… I heard what happened. I overheard Mum talking to Dad. I know Caleb took you to the hospital because you drank too much.” His voice dips lower.
“I just really hope I wasn’t the reason you did that. ”
I stare at the wall for a long second. “Do you really want to know the answer to that, Aston?”
Silence.
Then, so quietly I nearly miss it, “I’m such an idiot.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was really worried. I wanted to come over, but I didn’t know how much your dad knew, and I didn’t want to make it worse. I’m sorry it happened. And it won’t happen again, I promise.”
I lie back on the bed and hug my pillow to my chest, not entirely sure whether that promise makes me feel better or worse.
“Dad doesn’t know,” I say. “No one does except Caleb, and he won’t say anything.”
“Well… that’s good.” He pauses. “And Annie?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am sorry about trying to kiss—”
“Aston, stop!” I cut in quickly.
“Okay.” His voice tightens a little. “But we’re still friends, right?”
And there it is.
That note of hurt in his voice makes my chest ache.
“Of course we are, Aston,” I say softly. “Best friends. We always will be.”
At least, I hope that’s true, because I honestly don’t know what I want. All I know is Aston has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, and I can’t imagine him not being there.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and some of the tension leaves his voice. “I’ll be over tomorrow for school and rehearsal, so maybe we can have a minute alone, just to make sure we’re okay?”
“We’re okay, Ast. Don’t worry.” I tuck myself further into my pillow. “It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it anyway. Anyone could overhear, and you know the walls have ears around here.”
That finally gets a laugh out of him, and the sound loosens something in me I didn’t realize had still been wound tight.
“Yeah, okay. So… how about that slag hanging off Caleb last night?” he asks, his voice turning playful.
I laugh, grateful for the shift.
Just like that, the heaviness lifts, and we fall back into familiar territory, teasing and talking crap about the self-important egomaniacs from the party.
And this?
This is how it’s supposed to be.