Page 28 of Can’t Say No

“Alright people. We’re heading into the end of the first month of school, and I’m proud to say, this might be our strongest start yet. We’re setting ourselves up for a really incredible year.”

I zone out as she runs through various stats that somehow prove what a great three weeks it’s been. I glance around the room and, surprisingly, most of the staff are locked in. There’s a genuine love for this place that’s almost palpable. I think most of the teachers here truly love their jobs.

I wonder what that's like.

That thought is followed quickly by a wave of guilt. People would do crazy things to trade lives with me. The sold out shows, fans singing along to the lyrics I poured my heart into, the beautiful dresses I get to wear on red carpets all over the world; I’m living out every little girl’s pop star dream. I know I should be grateful.

But the shine is starting to wear off. Like those fireflies the other night, the glow I chased for so long feels dimmer by the second.

My phone pings and I swipe up to a text from Matty.

Matty: Send more pics! We need to post something good on your socials. See inspo below.

Half a dozen Pinterest-perfect pictures pop up on my screen in rapid succession. Some black and white, a few a little blurry, and all oozing romance. None of the couples in the pictures show their full faces. It’s all profiles and close angles.

I see the vibe Matty is going for. An out of focus selfie with Connor partially in the frame should fit the bill.

I let out a little sigh of relief. Something about sharing all of Connor makes me nervous. He’s my oldest friend, and even though things between us are complicated, I still feel a little protective.

And, okay, maybe a little territorial. I don’t need the vultures descending on him just yet.

I reply to Matty and pocket my phone as Rutledge finishes her spiel to a round of applause from the staff. Whatever she’s selling, they’re clearly all buying. I catch Caroline’s gaze from across the room and she rolls her eyes but claps along with the rest of the group.

I scan the room for Connor so I can snag him before the bell for this picture, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“He had to run home.”

I jump at the deep voice booming behind me. Wells.

“I assume you’re looking for Connor. He texted me that he had to deal with something at the orchard.”

“Why can’t his dad do it?” Mr. Majors was the heart and soul of that place growing up. I know Connor’s taken over a lot of the work, but I can’t imagine a world where he’s not still deeply involved with the orchard.

Wells shrugs and turns his attention back to the front of the room.

Unsatisfied with that non-answer, I pull out my phone again.

Me: Everything okay? Wells told me something was up at the orchard???

I tap the edge of the phone with my perfectly shaped pale pink nails, willing a speedy reply. My attempt at telepathy is unsuccessful, so I send another.

Me: Really need to get some pics this morning with my BOYFRIEND.

The bell rings before I get an answer. Mrs. Crane locks eyes with me and my fate, at least for the morning, is sealed. I flash her a tight-lipped smile.

While the rest of the faculty seems to live and breathe for this school and its crappy coffee, I’m not sold. Sure, the other day with the senior choir was pretty cool, but the majority of the past three weeks has been monotonous and dull.

One more time, to lock in my role in Connor’s life as an impatient brat, I shoot off a text.

Me: pls come find me as soon as you get back. It’s urgent!

I don’t try to hide my annoyance as I stomp after Mrs. Crane to the choir room, stuffing my phone away in my pocket. And like I expected, the morning drags. Running vocal warm ups, making copies of sheet music, and another cup of disgusting coffee for good measure.

I don’t even try to fight off the urge to wallow.

On the contrary, I’m reveling in the suck.

I should be in Atlanta right now, getting ready to open for Molly Jo tonight. And frankly, I should’ve been headlining the whole damn tour in the first place.