Page 38 of The Breakaway

In the kitchen, I made myself a sandwich and retreated to my room. I ate mechanically, not tasting a thing, then curled up under the covers without even changing out of my clothes.

I stared ahead at the dark wall, chewing my lip. Being back in my bed—our bed—peeled back another layer from my thoughts. Those cracks in my armour were more visible with Logan gone . . . and Rob had seen them.

Had Logan?

I’d never told him what happened. He’d never asked. Even when he felt me flinch away or when I had to take time to breathe. I gave him the basics.

Rob had straight up asked in the kitchen.

I lied to him.

But he asked.

Chapter

Fifteen

As I sippedmy morning coffee, I waited for the internet to connect. I finished my oatmeal by the time my inbox opened. No messages from Logan.

It stung less than usual, and that only slathered on another layer of worry. I was losing it. I’d been on my own for three weeks, and I was going bat-shit crazy.

I filled my clean water bottle, grabbed my violin, and headed out to rehearsal. It was fine. I wasn’t going to implode my life because of some momentary psychological crisis.

Icouldopen up to Logan, couldn’t I? Maybe that was why I needed to go through all of this. So I could figure out why I was holding us back.

The familiar smell of old wood and sheet music filled my nose as I entered the hall. Lily waved at me from her spot, her usual perky self. "How was your weekend?"

I plastered on a smile. "I spent it with Maddie."

Caleb scoffed. "You’re not going to even mention our moment in the practice hall?"

“Ah, yes. Caleb and I had an intense conversation about picking up women outside my practice room.”

“Way to out me,” he muttered.

Lily told me about a new-to-her restaurant downtown as we rosined our bows and tuned our instruments. For a minute, I almost felt normal. Then, as Ms. Franck strode to the podium and raised her baton, I focused on the one thing I currently had control over.

As we launched into a sprightly rendition of "Sleigh Ride," I let muscle memory take over, my fingers dancing across the fingerboard. Franck stopped us halfway through and took a moment to correct the woodwinds.

Caleb leaned over. “Another Nintendo night this week?”

I blinked. Right. Nintendo. We’d done that together. My walk home had almost completely erased the fun earlier that night. Rob showing up out of nowhere. His hands on my shoulders.I swear, if he touched you, I’ll kill him, Shar.

I shivered. “Hmm. Yeah. Maybe not this week, but raincheck?” Caleb looked satisfied with that response.

While most of the events of that night made me squirm, there was one thing that jumped to my memory. Lily. What had she said on the walk home? Something about fighting for my chance at first chair?

Own it . . . Franck likes people who know what they want.

The rest of the hour passed in a blur of Christmas carols. As the final notes of "Silent Night" faded away, my hands grew clammy. Own it? How the hell was I supposed to own it? It would’ve been nice if Lily gave me some sort of instruction manual.

My heart battered against my ribcage, and I jumped up from my chair before I knew what I was going to do next. Ms. Franck cut an imposing figure as she gathered her scores with her severe black bob and sharp features.

Squaring my shoulders, I marched up to the podium before I could lose my nerve. "Ms. Franck?" My voice came outembarrassingly squeaky. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I was wondering what I could do to be considered for first chair next year. After Lily graduates."

She looked up, her piercing blue eyes seeming to see straight through me. "Ah.” She took me in, appraising. “I appreciate your initiative.” She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a black folder, opened it, then licked her finger and scrolled through the papers inside. “Here. Prepare this and play for me on Wednesday. Eight-fifteen on stage.”

Relief crashed over me in a wave. I took the paper from her. "Okay. Perfect, thank you."

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