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A steady force (oh) a lovely thrill (oh)
Touches like whispers, gives me the chills
Finally, a spark embraced into the night a radiant flame
So bright’
Toby finished singing, finally looking away from me, and for the first time since he began, I was able to draw in a full breath and breathe again. His lyrics, the beat, all of it hit me hard. His words resonated inside of me, made me feel things I’d never felt or known what kind of words to put to it. My heart ached. I felt warm all over. I wanted to jump on stage and hug him tight.
The crowd clapped. Some cheered. It took a moment for the crowd to finally calm down, their reaction to him nearly as good as the people who performed before him. I’d say he held his own up there and rocked his song hard.
“Cadence,” Justin whispered.
“Yeah?” I cleared my throat and finally looked at him.
Justin smiled and squeezed my hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
He chuckled.
“Did you know about his song?” I finally asked.
“He shared it with us before he had to turn it in,” he said.
“I didn’t know.”
“I don’t think he was planning to let you know either,” Justin said.
I looked to where Toby had disappeared, understanding why.
Fricken Toby.
He just rapped me a love song. How was that fair?
Chapter Thirty
Toby’s song stuck with me for the rest of Tuesday. Toby didn’t help, becoming shy after he performed and saying very little to me, but sending me constant glances.
I felt shy with him too. What he did on that stage was probably deeper than anything else that had happened at the show. And then the concert ended and he ran off before I could say anything.
“Just give him time,” Bryan had said before chasing after his friend.
The whole thing would have consumed my mind if Dad hadn’t showed up at my house on Wednesday.
“Dad?” I frowned in confusion and then noticed all the bags at his feet. “What’s going on?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were home, but would you like to bake pies with me? I’m not sure what to bring to the Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and settled on some pies. Can’t go wrong with pie.”
“You want to cook with me?” I asked, feeling a bit dumb. Did I even know how to turn on my oven?
“Only if you want to. If not, I can go. I thought we could spend the day together, but I don’t want to be a bother. What do you think?”
Again I looked at all the bags by his feet. At least he knew enough to bring anything he thought we’d need. Baking with my dad? When was the last time I did that? Maybe when I was like five or something.
