Chapter Twenty-Nine
The crowd was still cheering as I made my way off the stage, my nerves making my hands shake as the adrenaline high of a good performance slowly ebbed away.
I stepped backstage, the next student to perform slipping by.
Toby was suddenly there, practically launching himself at me, nearly knocking my guitar out of my hand.
“Holy shit, candy pop,” he whispered fiercely, gripping my shoulders. “You did it again. The whole school is even more in love with you. If you keep knocking them off their feet with your songs, you’re going to force us to declare war on everyone. Not that I mind fighting for you.”
I tried to smile, still a bit raw from the song I sang. “That’s not—”
“It is,” he insisted. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “But listen. I need you to stand here.”
He physically nudged me to a specific spot behind the curtain, angled so I could see a slice of the stage through the gap. It was oddly precise.
“What? Why?”
He only smirked and tapped my cheek lightly. “Just watch.” Then he vanished toward the stage entrance, leaving me confused.
A murmured announcement came through the speakers.
“Next up, we have Toby Braden and friends.”
Friends?
I blinked.
Two silhouettes walked out on stage. I froze as I realized Calvin was there, but also his brother.
My stomach plummeted. I hadn’t seen Paxon at all tonight and I didn’t even know Calvin was here.
Since Paxon and I had been on the fritz, I didn’t see much of his little brother.
I figured Paxon had probably said something to Calvin and so he stopped asking for music lessons.
It had hurt more than I realized once I stopped teaching Calvin.
Without noticing, I had been looking forward to them just as much as Calvin.
What were the two of them doing?
Calvin awkwardly adjusted his guitar strap around his shoulder while Toby hurried up beside him with his own guitar. Paxon stood between them, holding a mic with visibly shaking hands.
He looked like he might throw up. Paxon was a sports person. Not a performer. Definitely not a singer.
Paxon glanced back at the curtain, toward me. Our eyes didn’t meet directly, but he was looking for me. Searching.
The auditorium dimmed. A single spotlight washed over the three of them as Calvin strummed the first quiet chords.
Toby spoke into his mic, voice low and a little teasing. “This one is for someone who really needed to hear it.”
The crowd murmured at the cryptic message. Me though? My pulse thundered.
Calvin shifted the tune into a soft, steady rhythm, slower than my earlier song, warmer, more vulnerable. Then Toby joined with his guitar with perfect harmony to form a ballad.
Paxon inhaled like he was about to jump off a cliff. And then he sang:
“I’ve been running from the answers,
Scared of what I might become.
Hiding behind every question,
Pretending I was strong enough.”
His voice was deeper than I expected. Rough, nervous, but achingly sincere. The auditorium went silent.
“But every step I took away from you,
I felt the ground fall out beneath.
I thought distance made me stronger,
But it only made it hard to breathe.”
My fingers curled around the curtain. My throat closed. Toby jumped in for the next part:
“So here he stands, a stubborn fool,
Heart in hands, mistakes and all.”
And then Paxon came back, Toby joining him, perfectly balancing the song as they sang, Toby adding that extra layer to the lyrics:
“If forgiveness has a melody,
I’ll learn the tune again.
I’m done with fear, done disappearing.
If you’ll let me in, I’m here to begin.”
A collective shiver went through the room.
Paxon closed his eyes as he finished the last line, like the words were too heavy to look at me while he sang them.
Calvin was able to smoothly transition the guitar into the next verse, telling me that he was continuing his lessons even without me. Toby stepped forward:
“Tried to play the laughing hero,
But even jokes can’t hide the cracks.
Watched him break himself in silence,
Trying to fit what he can’t take back.
Told him love is never perfect,
But it’s worth the bruises too.
And if he’s got the guts to say it—
Girl, he’s saying it for you.”
Toby and Paxon staggered their lyrics, Toby going first with Paxon’s lines starting a couple notes later.
“So here he stands, a stubborn fool—
I’m standing ’cause of you, not me.
And if love is made of second shots—
Then maybe this is how it’s meant to be.”
The two of them sang together again, Toby’s voice there to lift up Paxon’s:
“If forgiveness has a melody,
I’ll learn the tune again.
I’m done with fear, done disappearing.
If you’ll let me in, I’m here to begin.
If you’ll let me in, I’m here to begin.”
The audience erupted. Whistles. Cheers. People shouting Toby’s name, then Paxon’s, and even Calvin’s. Toby was celebrating along with them while Calvin was completely red from all the attention.
Paxon looked like he couldn’t breathe.
Once the applause softened, Paxon lowered his head, whispered something to Toby, then walked off stage. And straight toward me. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it hurt as he got closer. He stopped only a foot away.
“Cadence,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Can we talk? Please.”
I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak.
Toby squeezed my shoulder as he passed with Calvin. “Don’t make him pass out.” Then the two of them disappeared, leaving me face-to-face with the boy who’d been breaking me for months. Whenever we ‘talked,’ nothing good ever came from them. It only worsened our relationship.
I was terrified now.
Paxon motioned to the hallway that led out of the backstage area. I followed slowly. When we went out there and closed the door, we could barely hear anything from the auditorium and stage. The hallway was surprisingly empty except for a stack of folded risers and a forgotten music stand.
“Cadence?”
I finally dragged my gaze from the hallway to Paxon and took in a sharp breath. Paxon looked completely wrecked. His eyes were too shiny, posture crumpled with nerves.
“I know that was dramatic,” he said, swallowing hard. “But I didn’t know how else to—how else to even start fixing what I broke.”
His words cracked something inside of me. I crossed my arms tightly. “You didn’t try. Not until now. You left me alone knowing that is the one thing I can’t handle. You made me feel like I had done something wrong.” My voice cracked at the end, and I had to clench my teeth to make myself stop.
He flinched like I’d hit him.
“I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry, Cadence.”
“That doesn’t fix it!” My voice broke. “Do you know how much it hurt? How scared I’d been? You avoided me. You shut down on me. You made me feel like I ruined everything, like loving you was the worst mistake I could’ve made.”
Tears blurred my vision.
He stepped closer, barely daring to touch the air around me.
So impossibly careful to not crowd me even though it was clear by his broken expression that he wanted to.
“Cadence....” He swallowed hard, his words coming out so thick I could barely understand him.
“You didn’t ruin anything. I was scared. And I handled it like an idiot.”
“Scared of what?” I choked.
He inhaled shakily. “My church. My dad’s church.
Everything I grew up hearing. That what we were doing was wrong.
That sharing someone was...sinful. That wanting you the way I do—but also respecting how you love the others—meant I was not only good enough, but also a bad person.
And I’ll admit, it wasn’t just about that too.
I hated the idea that you weren’t just mine. But at the same time...”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I kept thinking what if I regret it years from now? What if I lose myself? What if I lose you? What if I lose them?” His voice cracked open.
“But the truth is...” His voice hitched.
“I’m already losing you. And the thought of that terrifies me way more than some outdated belief system I don’t really believe in. Or my own stubbornness and greed.”
I covered my mouth with my shaking hand.
“I love you, Cadence,” he said. “I’ve been in love with you since you called us out on losing Calvin at the Fun Day before school started. I was just too scared to admit what that meant.”
My tears spilled. I took a small step toward him, closing that space between us. “I’m still hurt. I’m still angry,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said softly.
“And I don’t know how this is supposed to work.”
“I don’t either,” he murmured. “But I want to figure it out with you. And with the others.”
That finally broke me. I stepped into him, pressing my forehead against his chest as the tears came quietly, but fully.
Paxon wrapped his arms around me so tightly it felt like he was trying to keep me from falling apart. I sobbed at finally being able to feel his hug again. At his scent wrapping around me. He was there again after being gone for nearly too long.
“I’m here,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m here, Cadence. I’m not going anywhere.”
I clutched his shirt, letting myself finally believe him. Even if only a little. Even if only for tonight. I truly wanted to believe in him.