Page 80 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

“The best advice I can give you is to be yourself. Be fun. If this girl managed to grab your attention, I doubt she’s a stick in the mud.”

Visions of the first time I saw Dusty spinning on that pole swarm my vision. Yeah . . . a stick in the mud is definitely not how I would describe her.

“Show her who you are. If you fake it now, it’ll never last,” she says. “And if she doesn’t fall head over heels for you, then she’s crazy.”

I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

She hums again through the phone.

“What? I know that tone.”

“No, it’s nothing. I just—” She takes a breath. “She must be some girl.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve never mentioned anyone to me before. What’s changed?”

I shrug and tap my fingers on the counter. “I don’t know. I mean, life has been great. Amazing, actually, up until all this recent bullshit. I never really gave dating any real thought . . . but there’s just something about her. I feel like I need to know her.”

“And what about Keith?”

My stomach drops. “I haven’t told him.”

“He’ll be the only one without someone.”

“But that’s what he wants,” I say a bit harshly. “He told me himself. He doesn’t even believe in love.”

A long pause, and then, “That sounds like someone who’s had his heart broken before.”

I—could she be on to something here? “Nah, you didn’t hear him.” I shake my head. “He definitely doesn’t want any kind of serious relationship.”

“If you say so.”

I run a hand down the back of my head. “I have to go, but thanks for the care package. I’ll call you when I get it.”

“Okay, dearie.” But before I can hang up, she says, “Everything’s going to work out for the best. You’ll see.”

“Thanks.”

I hang up the phone and stand, staring at the clock on the stove for fifteen minutes. My ma’s crazy. Key’s never been in a relationship before, let alone had his heart broken. We know each other better than anything. I’m sure if there had been a girl at some point, he would’ve told me.

Or is my mom right like she so often is? What if therewasa girl? What if something happened and she broke his heart? Does he not trust me enough to share that part of himself? I open a cupboard with no real goal in mind, needing some way to occupy my hands. I need to stop before I get carried away, I know this, but I’m too far gone now because . . . what if I don’t know Key as well as I think I do? And if that’s the case, what about the songs?

I’m heading down the hall in a heartbeat, ready to shake him awake and demand he provides me with an entire play-by-play of his childhood so that we can figure out how to prove he wrote those songs. But when I open his bedroom door, he’s gone.

“Key?” I call, the floor creaking as I step into the empty room. I check a few more places, but he’s not there either. It’s not till I hear the sound of gravel that I think to check the driveway.

“Son of a bitch,” I shout, watching my car’s headlights bounce off our garage and disappear down the street. Turning on my heel, I head to the kitchen and lift the phone back off the receiver.

It rings and rings and rings, until finally someone answers.

“If you’re calling to ask about the article, you can fu?—”

“James, it’s me.”

“Oh.” His voice softens. “Sorry, man, I thought you were?—”

“He’s gone.”

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