Chapter 31
Easton
Until I Found You (Piano Version)—Stephen Sanchez
I don’t know what made me follow her. I told the guys that I needed a moment before starting again, and I went outside to find Rayne.
Maybe it was the expression on her face, or the way her voice shook. Or my damn heart trying to force me to finally say what I need to say, because saying anything else is no longer an option.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t answer. She has her back to me, and her shoulders are hunched. She’s clinging to her phone. I couldn’t hear what she was saying or who she was talking to, she was too far away, but I heard the anger in her voice.
“Nothing. Just go,” she says, and a part of me wants to do what she asks. I want to give her the space she needs, but I can’t because I feel her pain, and it’s unbearable.
Instead, I reach instinctively for her hand, without thinking about it. Her skin is ice cold. It’s no wonder; I’m freezing my ass off out here. She doesn’t resist my touch or shake me off, and I take a breath of relief.
“Rayne, talk to me,” I beg her, tugging gently on her hand until she turns around. Her gaze darts restlessly over my face, her gray eyes even brighter than usual.
“It’s nothing,” she lies, even though it’s so obvious that something is wrong.
“Who were you talking to on the phone? Why are you so angry?” I ask. I have to ask.
Her mouth opens and closes again. Her eyes glisten, and tears are hanging on her long lashes.
It almost kills me, because suddenly I’m very sure I know who she called.
Who she talked to without getting an answer.
It tears me apart to see her like this. I want so badly to help her, but I don’t know how.
“Rayne—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I shouldn’t be here, okay? Not in this damn city, not at this ballet school. I shouldn’t be here at all!” She pulls away from me. I want to tell her it’s not true, that she’s exactly where she belongs. But that wouldn’t be the truth. Not really.
“I’m angry because I have no choice but to be here.
Because I have nowhere else to go!” she shouts.
Her phone hits the wall of the studio with a crack and lands on the ground.
Rayne doesn’t even flinch or check to see if the screen is cracked.
She doesn’t care. “I’m angry because my parents are dead.
It’s unfair! They shouldn’t be dead. They didn’t deserve it!
They didn’t do anything wrong. They were good people!
They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not fair!”
Her words break my heart because she’s right. It’s not fair. This whole fucking life is unfair. I want to take her pain away, but I can’t. There’s nothing I can do. Absolutely fucking nothing.
“I know, it’s—”
“No,” she snaps. “You have no idea! I need her. I need my mom. She has to tell me how to do this!” Her voice breaks again, and something about her words scares me. I reach out for her again, but she dodges me this time.
“What do you mean? She has to tell you how to do what?”
She shakes her head and presses her lips together.
“Talk to me, Rayne,” I say, struggling to get the words out. My pulse is racing, and a knot of helplessness and panic is forming in my stomach.
“I’ve been talking to you the whole time. I just can’t . . .” she shakes her head and takes a step backward. Away from me.
“What can’t you do?”
“Why can’t I stop thinking about that kiss?
” she suddenly says. Her hands are clenched into fists, and her whole body is shaking.
I don’t know if it’s from cold or anger.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about you? It drives me crazy, you know?
You’re doing this to me, and I don’t want it.
I don’t know what to do with all these damn feelings, Easton! ”
Her words hurt.
I don’t want it.
“Do you think this is any fun for me, either?” For a moment I’m just as angry as she is. It’s a helpless fury, nothing that makes sense, but it’s there, and we’re both losing control. Too fast, too suddenly. “Do you think I’m any less confused than you are?”
She’s silent again, her chin jutting forward defiantly and an angry glare in her eyes.
What are we doing? We shouldn’t be arguing.
I have to stop and be stronger than the anger and frustration, stronger than this damn longing that pulls me to her like a magnet, again and again.
But I’m not strong, and I keep talking. I can’t stop myself.
“I didn’t plan this! None of it. Certainly not the kiss. I didn’t know it would be like this when we finally met. I wish I could be the person you need. I wish I could just be your friend!”
“Then be my friend, damn it!” she yells. She moves toward me, too fast for me to react or dodge her, though I wouldn’t have done that anyway. She pushes against my chest so hard with both hands that I stumble backward.
“I can’t!” I shout back at her.
“Why not?” Her voice rings with the same desperation I hear in my own.
“Because I’m in love with you,” I blurt out, hoarse and desperate.
She flinches, and I have to stop myself, but it’s too late.
I can’t stop. I can’t go back. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t plan it this way.
I wanted to be your friend because that’s what you need me to be, but I can’t, because I can’t stop thinking about that kiss, and I want more, okay?
I want to be with you all the time, Rayne. ”
“You want . . . what?” She stares at me in disbelief, her big gray eyes going wide.
I take a step toward her. I have to end this now and tell her everything, because she deserves to know the truth, and I deserve to tell her.
I put both hands on either side of her face, needing to touch her. Her soft skin, her lips. Again and again, her lips.
“I want you. I wanted you from the very start. I just didn’t dare to let myself think about it because .
. . damn it, you’re my best friend, but I wanted you even before we ever met.
When you were still the girl I wrote endless messages to.
I want you because you understand me and I understand you.
Because you help bring out the best in me, because you believe in me, and because I can’t stop thinking about you.
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss, and how I—damn it, I want you, Rayne!
Because I’m in love with you.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
My heart is racing. I’ve destroyed our friendship, for good.
There’s no way back, only forward. “What do you want?” I ask her.