She sucked in her lips, her face still wet, as she pulled herself onto the open bed. I handed her a stack of tissues from the front seat when I came to sit with her.
“Thanks,” she said. After she blew her nose and wiped her face, she sat and took a deep breath in and out. “They’re going to hate me.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Everybody. Miss Mitchell. My parents. The school. My friends. Everybody.”
“That’s not true.”
Her shoulders started to shake again. I looked around, confused at where I had misspoken. I wasn’t great with kids, but I thought I had learned Cath pretty well.
“Hey, hey. What is it?” I asked her.
“I’m a terrible person.”
“You are not. Why would you think that?”
She looked at me, her little chin trembling again. “When I got the offer...the first thing I felt was relief,” she admitted.
“Because you want to tour? Nobody would blame you.”
“No, it’s not even that. I love the band and love playing with them, even if they are a bunch of old guys. No offense.”
“Ouch.”
“I thought at least now I had an excuse not to do this audition. I wouldn’t disappoint anybody if I didn’t go for arealreason.”
“You don’t want to go to Berklee?” I asked.
“I-I don’t know.” She tossed out her arms. “I just—I just feel like...” She squeezed her eyes tight.
“It’s too much?”
“Yes.” Her shoulders fell.
“I get that.”
She made a sound like she didn’t believe me.
“No. Trust me, I do. Listen.” I waited until she looked at me, rubbing the last remnant of tear from her cheek. “I was fired from The Burnouts.”
Cath glared. “But you were cool with Vander and the guys. You were friends. How could they do that?”
“Because I acted like a total shit.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I saw some videos, but I thought it was taken out of context,” Cath admitted.
“Thank you for having faith in me. But no, it was me. Turned out, I didn’t really like being in a band.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I loved the guys and playing, but I hated touring.”
“Are you saying this so I don’t go?” she asked. “Because you’re dating Miss Mitchell?”
“No. No. Miss Mitchell and I...we don’t have anything to do with this. Except in that we both care about you. I’m telling you because when I wasyoung, I played the drums because it made me happy. But then came all this pressure. I felt like it was either my happiness or everybody else’s,” I said honestly.
Her mouth slowly opened, and she nodded. “Yes. Exactly.” She sat up straighter. “Between Miss Mitchell and the band and my parents, I feel like the drums have become this chore for me. I used to play them to escape and feel something bigger than myself. But now it feels like all I’m good for.”
