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Harper swears and digs her phone out of her pocket. She taps on the screen for a few seconds and then holds it out to me.
A video of Kyle onstage earlier is playing.
I expect to hear him talk about his mom.
Instead, he’s saying, “…wrote this song about a girl—”
Loud cheers drown out his voice for a minute.
“…promised myself if she ever came to see me perform, I’d play it for her. Last time, I chickened out. This time, I won’t.”
I look up at Harper, who’s glancing back and forth between me and the screen, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She looks nervous and giddy, and I can’t figure out why.
On-screen, Kyle starts playing the guitar, a slow melody that gradually speeds up into a quicker tempo. “This is called ‘Blue Rain Boots.’”
“Bet you wish you had those rain boots now.”
My heart squeezes.
Then, he starts to sing.
I thought I knew what I was looking to be mine,
But then I saw you and still think about that time.
Everything I’m wondering is a haze.
You spin me into a never-ending daze.
Because you’re ready for rain on sunny days,
Tell a country singer’s twang to rephrase.
Unfamiliar with second-guessing,
Let that red hair do the expressing.
And I don’t remember what the search was for.
Seems like second best after watching you pour.
The clip ends abruptly.
I cover my hand with my mouth, then pull out my own phone and typekyle spencer blue rain bootsinto the search bar.
It was released three years ago.
I skim the lyrics.
“He left, Piper.”
I look at Harper. “What?”
“I didn’t realize…he came over to me after he performed, asking where you were. I said you’d left since that’s what Linda had just told me. I figured you guys could talk at the after-party, but then Mia told me he was gone. I came to find you as soon as I could.”
I exhale. “Okay.”
“Okay? Piper, you should at least call him and—”
