Page 137 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

“This isn’t some rag magazine or school paper. It is very important to us that we uphold our brand.”

“I understand, but—”

“For that reason, I’m afraid we’ve decided to cancel the feature you were working on.”

My heart is breaking. My dreams crashing around me like that fucking ashtray I threw at the wall. “Wait, please! If I could just speak to Mister Lewis personally, I think—”

“With all duerespect,Miss Rodriguez—” I can practically hear her lip curling. “Mister Lewis doesn’t want to be associated with women likeyou. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“But I—”

But the line goes dead, and with it, all of my dreams. And while I know I should fight, that I can’t give up, that I need to fix this somehow, I just . . . can’t. I’m too tired. It’s like I’ve been fighting for years, and I don’t think I can go on anymore. So I slump onto the floor, letting the darkness of my thoughts crash over me, wondering if this time they’ll finally take me out to sea where I can drown.

“Izzy.”

A sob tears out of me. “I can’t . . . I can’t fight anymore.”

Dave’s gentle voice somehow breaks through and before I know it, he’s in front of me. All of them are. His hand on my cheek is like a lifeline.

“Remember what I told you before?” Dave says, grasping my face. “What’s awesome about having friends, Disco Girl?”

More tears spill from my eyes, but he brushes them away with his thumbs as I take a long shaky breath and look up at the people I’ve grown to love. My friends. My family.

“They help you fight the battles you can’t win on your own.”

CHAPTER 43

Don’t Give Up

DAVE

After tucking Izzy into bed, I pull my jacket on and head for the theater with James on my heels.

“Dave, what the hell is the plan? We can’t let this happen.”

I push through the doors and out into the frigid air, grateful that it clears my head. “I don’t know, man. But I have to do something. This . . .” I stop. My knuckles clench into fists, and I raise one to my temple. “If I ever see that fucker,” I grit out, “I’ll fucking kill him.”

James’s head drops back and he sighs, a little frozen cloud escaping into the air. “Listen, I want to kill him too, but . . . and I can’t believe I’m saying this—we need to be smart about this.”

“It doesn’t take brains to bash someone else’s in, Walton.”

He grabs my arm. “Imean, we need to think of a way that will ruin him without causing any further damage to Izzy, and find a way to help her get her feature back.”

“Do you think I should call that guy? The editor?” I ask. “Maybe if I explain that Izzy and I are together . . .”

James smirks.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Listen, about that. I’m sorry I ever told you to stay away from her,” he says as he kicks his foot in the snow. “If I had known—”

“You were right to try to keep me away,” I interrupt.

He grins. “I fucking knew she was just your type.”

“Shut up.” I shove his shoulder and we both laugh.

“But, yeah,” he continues. “I mean, her article’s already been canceled. I don’t see how calling to ask them to change their minds would make it any worse.”

---