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“Sure.” Lance smiles and goes to mix our drinks. A chair opens up beside me, and Jace snags it. We’re so close together that his knee brushes mine.
Lance slides our drinks in front of us and Jace tips his chin at him. “Thanks, man.” He walks off and Jace lifts his drink to his lips. Setting it down, he asks, “Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?”
“I’ll order something in a bit.” I need to eat dinner, but I’m not quite hungry.
He nods and swivels in the barstool so he’s facing the stage. I do the same. A girl is currently playing the piano and singing a slowed down version of a song I’ve been hearing a lot on the radio.
“Did you tell Cade, Rae, and Thea you were playing tonight? You know they’d love to come.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t think about it.”
He drums his hands against his seat like it’s no big deal.
“We’re so bad at including them in things,” I mutter.
He chuckles and removes his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. “Yeah, we are,” he agrees. “Sometimes they get to be a bit much. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but …”
“But what?” I prompt when he trails off.
He shrugs. “It’s easier with you.”
It should probably worry me with how much my heart soars at his words.
Clipboard guy motions for Jace and he stands.
“Wish me luck.” He flashes me a smile and then he’s gone.
He makes his way through the diners and to the stage. There’s a guitar and he grabs it before sitting on the stool in the middle of the stage.
He looks at home up there, like there’s no other place he belongs.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he needs a moment to center himself, and then he pulls a pick from his pocket and begins strumming.
He wets his tongue and opens his mouth. Like always, I’m immediately taken aback by the sound of his voice. It’s soft, and husky sounding, utterly and completely perfect. His voice cracks on some words, like he’s barely keeping a tap on his emotions.
The words of the song pour of over me, and I realize with a startling clarity that this song is about me.
My lips part in surprise, and I pay careful attention to each and every word, trying to decipher his meaning.
“She thinks she's got it all figured out, but she’s putting on that damn mask again. Oh, she's a Supernova, Supernova, she's a Supernova, Supernova. It's what she is.”
My heart beats faster.
“And I watch as she changes her hair, trying to hide from herself. Oh, little does she know, I'm running from myself too.”
And faster.
“And I can see her hiding from the world. And I know she's got some pain, that I can't take way, take away.”
My throat closes up and tears pool in my eyes. I don’t know whether they’re tears of sadness, or happiness, or a mix of both.
He sings the song softly, giving it a melancholy edge, and my lower lip trembles because it’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and absolutely amazing.
I feel touched, but also scared, because he’s noticed so much more about me than I give him credit for. He sees straight through me, to the parts I hide from everyone.
Like the hair.
He noticed that I dye my hair, because I’m trying to hide from who I really am.
