Clarke
“I think Avalon is lonely,” Melody announced several days later, plopping into the spare chair in my music studio. She spun it around until she faced me, giving me an empathetic little shrug. “Did you know she doesn’t have any siblings?”
I sighed and looked up from my notebook, forcing my attention onto her. “Since when is the emotional wellbeing of Avalon Kennedy a concern of Melody-Claire King?”
I laughed lightly, trying to keep my tone breezy when, in reality, I couldn’t care less how lonely Avalon was.
She had crossed an unspoken line and then had the nerve to act apologetic about it.
She knew what she was doing—deep down, I knew she knew.
Cutting Melody’s hair was sacred. That should’ve been me or Mama. Maybe even Colton. But not her.
Melody let out an exaggerated sigh and spun in the chair again.
I wanted to tell her to stop before she made herself dizzy, but I held my tongue.
I’d already been told—repeatedly—that I was being “especially motherly” these past thirty-six hours.
Apparently, I needed to accept that my little sister wasn’t so little anymore.
“Why are you guys like this?” she asked, staring up at the ceiling as if the universe might answer her. Then she lowered her gaze back to me, more insistent this time. “Why are you two like this? What could possibly have happened that was so bad forgiveness is completely off the table?”
My stomach churned. My mind drifted back to the convention—to that night, those moments, the betrayal, the embarrassment.
Every time someone asked what happened between Avalon and me, I got closer to spitting it out.
That I’d made a mistake. That instead of finding healthy coping mechanisms, I shoved everything down deep.
But that wouldn’t be the truth.
Because if I talked about that night, I’d have to talk about everything that came after.
I’d have to admit that I thought about her.
A lot.
Up until the moment she walked into my father’s office, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her.
And that was something I wasn’t ready to say out loud.
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, Mells.”
It wasn’t a lie—it truly wasn’t her business. It wasn’t anyone’s business but mine.
Mine and Avalon’s.
“You always say that,” Melody groaned, spinning again. “You dislike her but you won’t tell me why, and it’s driving me crazy. It’s driving her crazy. And I know it has to be driving you crazy.”
“Why would it be driving me crazy? I don’t think—”
“Don’t lie, Clarke. Not to me.”
Her tone sharpened, and she held my gaze with surprising intensity.
“I know about the songs.”
My heart stopped.
The songs.
There was no way she meant those songs—the ones I wrote in the weeks after the convention. The ones that were raw and vulnerable and full of emotions I hadn’t told a soul. Not even Delia knew about them.
“You went through my things?” My voice came out quieter than I intended.
Melody’s ears turned bright red. She shifted in the chair, stumbling over her words.
“I wouldn’t say—I didn’t go through your things…
not necessarily. I was trying to find an old shirt of yours and you left your notebook open, so naturally I got curious.
You’re a literal star—of course I’d want to know if you were writing any more songs about me. ”
I nodded slowly, tapping my pen against the notebook. “How much of it did you see?”
The songs weren’t explicit, but they were honest. Too honest. They were the closest thing to a confession I’d ever written. And the idea of Melody—sweet, nosy, too-perceptive Melody—reading them made my skin prickle.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Not a whole lot,” Melody said slowly, eyes dropping to her beat-up Converse. “Just enough to know they weren’t about me.”
That was true. I’d been painfully specific in those songs. If they were ever released or read by anyone, it would be obvious who they were about.
Avalon was written into every line, even when her name wasn’t.
“So do you think she’s lonely?” I asked, steering the conversation back to her earlier comment. I didn’t want to think about my little sister reading the most vulnerable, angriest pieces of me. She was getting too close to the cracks in my facade—the parts of me I never wanted her to see.
The ugly me.
The angry me.
The me she shouldn’t grow up to become.
Melody perked up, propping her leg onto the chair. “Well, she’s always following me around. And don’t get me wrong, I love having her here… but I think she needs to spend time with people her own age.”
I snorted. “She could go back to Los Angeles.”
“Clarke!”
“Fine! I’m sorry.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I’ll… I’ll take her to Rorie’s tomorrow night if that’ll satisfy you.”
Rorie’s was the small-town bar that hosted karaoke and line dancing and was always packed, even on weekdays. If Melody wanted Avalon to meet people her own age, there was no better place than a bar overflowing with irresponsible young adults.
“Yes!” Melody launched herself from the chair and crushed me in a hug. “You should take Colton too. He’s been really down the past few days.”
She stepped back, tucking a short piece of hair behind her ear. And despite everything I’d said to Avalon, Melody’s haircut did suit her. It made her look older. Stronger. Like she hadn’t spent most of her life fighting an illness that tried to take everything from her.
Maybe that was why I’d been so angry. She was growing up, and I wasn’t ready. If she stayed little, she stayed safe. If she stayed little, she still needed me.
“Do you know why he’s in such a bad mood, Sissy?”
I shrugged. Colton had been in a foul mood since our argument in his homestead, but I hadn’t told anyone—not even Mama, who would’ve known exactly what to say. She always knew how to reach him in ways I couldn’t. Maybe because they’d grown up together in a way she hadn’t with Melody and me.
But I couldn’t break his trust. Even unspoken, I knew he didn’t want me dragging Mama into this. And he’d never forgive me if I did.
My hands were tied.
“I think he misses the city,” I said instead. “I’ll check on him later.”
I pulled out my phone and sent Delia a quick message about tomorrow night. “A night out will do us all some good.”
Melody squeezed me again before bounding out of the studio with a squeal. I smiled as the door clicked shut, though the anxious flutter in my stomach was impossible to ignore.
Avalon and I had exchanged numbers weeks ago—purely practical. She’d ask where the laundry detergent was; I’d remind her to stop leaving her combat boots by the front door.
We hadn’t texted since the bathroom incident.
Actually, “hadn’t texted much” was generous.
We hadn’t spoken at all.
I hadn’t seen her as often either, and part of me wondered if she was avoiding me—assuming I was still angry. I hadn’t known Avalon long, but long enough to know she didn’t handle conflict well. She took everything to heart and preferred to disappear until the storm passed.
Confrontation was terrifying when you were still trying to make up for old mistakes.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. The anxious flutter returned.
What if she didn’t want to go? What if she thought it was a trick? A joke?
No. I wasn’t going there. Avalon wanted to make things better. And maybe she and Melody were right—maybe it was my turn to try.
I typed a simple message and hit send. It felt like an eternity waiting for those three little dots to appear… and an even longer one waiting for them to disappear.
ME
hi! several of us are getting together at Rorie’s tomorrow night, I was curious if you would be interested in joining?
Avalon
you want me to join you and your friends?
I frowned. I hadn’t expected that. But I couldn’t blame her for thinking I wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe she thought my friends felt the same.
Me
Of course, silly! I think you’ll have fun, and you’re right. Maybe we do need to let things in the past stay there and find ways to move forward.
The dots appeared. Stopped. Appeared again. Was she skeptical? Did she see through me?
I did want to move on—no matter how hurt I’d been three months ago.
Avalon
Woah, Clarke King did you just tell me I was right about something? Is this you admitting defeat?
I snorted, shaking my head despite the smile tugging at my lips. I wasn’t waving a white flag. I was just…
Me
Shut up, I am not admitting anything. Would you like to join us for a night of frivolity, drinking, and really bad karaoke or not?
Avalon
You had me at hi.