He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, another brunette who looked close to our age threw him a bright smile.
"Tolliver!" she called out. "Didn't know you were coming in today."
"Hey, Shayla," he said. "I'm just helping a friend."
"Cool. See you later!"
As she disappeared, I arched a brow at him.
"You bring all your friends to the emergency room?" I repeated.
Tolliver's lips twitched. "Only the ones I like best."
Frowning, I said, "I'm going back now."
"Okay, I'll wait here."
"You don't have to."
"I know," he said. "Good luck. I hope it goes well."
"It will," I replied.
Turned out I was wrong.
The doctor determined I had not only a concussion but a sprained wrist. A moderate to bad sprain. One that could take weeks to heal. They called my parents right away—who then called me (at separate times) to say I would not be going on tour. Mom and Dad both agreed, which was rare. They forbid me from going anywhere until I was better. I was too stunned to argue. In a daze, the first thing I did was text Aurora. I told her what happened, my parents' decision, and typed somewords of encouragement. But honestly, several minutes later, as my parents spoke to the doctor, it felt like my world was falling apart.
All that preparation, all the planning, all those dreams I'd never get to fulfill. My heart was breaking as we left the sterile examine room.
"Hey, how'd it go?"
I looked up into the prettiest blue eyes I'd ever seen.
Tolliver took one look at my face, and his face fell.
"That bad, huh," he said quietly.
My dad asked, "He a friend of yours?"
"No," I said sadly, "we just met."
"How?"
"Playing basketball."
There was a pause. "But you don't play basketball."
I swallowed back my tears. "Neither does he."
"Freya, I'm sorry," Tolliver repeated. "I'll find a way to make this up to you."
I just shook my head, unable to speak as the first tear fell.
"Hey, no crying," Mom said. "It was just a little music thing. There will be others, Frey. Let's get you home."
A little music thing. I couldn't believe she called it that. I was about to go on tour with a band that had more followers than some of the biggest celebrities. They'd asked for me—and yeah, maybe that was because my cousins and I played at Ryker Cordova's younger sister's birthday party (where my obsession began) and knocked it out of the park which was how we came to HERS's attention. Oh, and my other cousin, Scarlett, was now dating Sam who just happened to be the lead guitarist's cousin. But whatever. I was good. Better than good. I was an amazing violinist. Music came as naturally as breathing to me. I felt like I needed ittobreathe. When I was five, my teacher had called me a virtuoso. Playing lead violin on a big tour like this wasmy dream. Mom just didn't understand. Despite her saying the chance would come again, I knew, deep in my heart, that it probably wouldn't.
"Your mom's right." Dad's words hurt, and seeing the look on my face, he added, "About getting you home. Not about it being 'little.' I know how much this meant to you, kid. But you'll have other opportunities. You're too talented not to."
