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“Hey.” I give a weak smile and wave.
“Did you know he applied to Berkeley?” Adam asks me, not bothering with any pleasantries.
“Um,” I stare at Wade and then back at Adam. “No.”
“I doubt that.” Adam purses his lips. “You two are attached at the hip. If Wade wasn’t gay, I’d think you two were fucking,” he says with a sarcastic tone.
“Honestly, I didn’t know.” I look at Wade accusatorially. He never told me he was applying for college. He dropped out to join the band, but he never said about wanting to go back. The thought makes me sad because he gave up so much for this pipe dream, and although it was successful, it didn’t last. Maybe now this is his chance.
“I didn’t want to tell anybody in case I didn’t get in.” Wade lowers his arms to his sides in defeat. I’m a little hurt that he didn’t tell me, but maybe he thought I couldn’t handle the news. After all, I am staying on his couch, and if he goes to Berkeley, that means he’s moving to the San Francisco Bay Area.
“But you did,” I say with a smile. Wade got into Berkeley. My smile grows wide, even if my heart shrinks at the thought of him leaving.
I move forward and crash into him. “Wow, Berkeley!” I bury my head against his chest because I don’t want him to read the equal parts happy and sad on my face.
His hand on my back is comforting and feels like a little piece of home, which is why this might be harder than I imagined.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he says into my hair.
I pull away even though I don’t want to, but I look at Adam for confirmation.
“Are you crazy? You’re going.” Adam says for the both of us. He looks just as sad as I do behind the mask of happiness.
Wade gives a forced smile and the three of us stand together in the middle of his living room, the air heavy with emotion. Adam takes Wade’s hand in his; gently intertwining their fingers together and the moment seems too intimate for me to be a part of so I excuse myself.
On my way out, I grab my purse and car keys, taking the outdoor steps down the three flights of stairs because I need to breathe. The ocean air hits me and I bite back the tears that are threatening to come. It’s a mixture of sad and happy. Everything is changing, and I’m losing more than just the band now. It’s a hard pill to swallow that everyone else seems to be moving on but me.
I reach my car and pluck the parking ticket from under the wiper blade and throw it to the ground. I need to find my own place to live, and I need to find my own life that doesn’t revolve around everyone else.
When I get in the car, I sit for a minute before I pull out my phone. I flip it open and dial Bret’s number. It only takes a few rings for him to answer.
“Bret, hi,” I breathe heavily into the phone. “About your offer…” I smile to myself. “If I do this, I want my own publishing company.”
CHAPTER NINE
Light and Dark
“MIA.” BRET PINCHES his forehead, “Do you understand the concept of collaboration?” he says to me.
I glare at him because obviously, I do.
“Okay, let’s try this again.” He paces the studio. “I bring in an artist,” He demonstrates bringing someone in and sitting them on the bench of the piano like I’m a kindergartner. “You help them write a song,” he smiles exaggeratedly while I stare blankly at him.
“Okay, well, I can’t help it if…”
He interrupts me with nonsensical shushing. “You don’t have to like them,” he says.
“I didn’t really click with them.” I use my hands to describe it but Bret is not getting it.
“One of them left crying,” Bret accuses, raising his voice.
“I can’t help it if she was too sensitive. If you’re gonna be in the music business, you gotta have a thick skin.” That should be obvious.
“I get this is all new to you, but you don’t always have to get along with the person you work with,” he tells me. “There are a lot of people I have to work with that I don’t like.”
“Oh, like Betty the receptionist? I can see that.” I tap my finger on my chin.
“What? No.” He screws up his face in confusion. “Betty’s lovely. Who told you I don’t like her?” Bret asks, worried.
