Page 23 of Facing the Line

“What’s Devon’s type?” I tease, poking him and hoping to defuse the tension. It works because he gazes at me and smiles.

I’m a tall girl at five-ten, and the cowgirl boots add a little more height. But Devon is taller, maybe six-four or six-five, and I like that he still has some inches on me. I wrap my arm around his waist and give him a squeeze. He’s lean, not solid and muscled like an athlete. It’s different than I’m used to, but I can learn to like it, I guess.

“Cute,” Caiden the bass player blurts. “So yeah, you fit his type.”

“Caiden, are you hitting on my date?” Devon asks, laughing, and his friend blushes.

“No, of course not,” he says, stammering.

“What’s your favorite type of music?” Dan asks, twirling a drumstick. Ashley gazes up at him like he’s an ice cream sundae topped with whipped cream and a cherry.

I wince. “Um, this kind?

Bex snorts. “Let me guess. You think Taylor Swift is a goddess and Harry Styles is an ‘icon.’” She puts sarcastic quote fingers around the word.

I’ve been patient with her attitude until now, but no one insults my girl Taylor and gets away with it. I’m done. Shrugging off Devon’s protective arm, I move towards her until I’m in her face. Despite her boots, I tower over her. I’m close enough to see the smudges in her black eyeliner. Her eyes widen.

“Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Yeah, she’s also tall, blonde, and gorgeous, but that shouldn’t negate her talent.” I stare at Bex until she takes two steps back. “I’m not ashamed that I like her music. It’s awesome, and I can understand what she’s saying when she’s singing.”

I spin on my heel and force a smile in Devon’s direction. His mouth gapes open, and he swallows as I march back over to him.

“Sorry, babe, I’m tired. I’m not going to be able to stay for the rest of your set.”

“But you’ll miss all the deep cuts in the second half.” His voice comes out a whine, and it grates on my nerves. “Plus, you rode with me. How will you get home?”

“I’ll call Kendall, no big deal. Good luck.” I give him a kiss on his cheek, his five o’clock shadow like sandpaper under my lips. “Let me know how it goes.”

Stalking off, I don’t look back. I’ve had my fill of musicians for the night. I hide in the restroom and shoot off a text to Kendall.

Hadley: Can you pick me from this concert?

Kendall: Sure, I’ll be right there.

God bless roommates who watch out for each other. I only have to wait a few minutes until she texts me she’s out front. I avoid the stage area as I leave and hop into her blue Mustang.

“You okay, girl?” she asks as I slide into the passenger seat.

She came and got me, no questions asked. I reach over and squeeze her hand as she pulls away from the curb. “Yep. It wasn’t, like, a danger thing. I was just a little over it.”

Kendall sends me a glance out of the corner of her brown eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah. But can we listen to Taylor Swift?” I pull it up on my phone and at her nod, connect to her car’s Bluetooth. “I need some decent music after that.”

She winces. “That bad?”

“Not my style.”

“The music, or Devon?”

That’s the real question, isn’t it? I swallow as the ramifications hit me. “Unfortunately, I think it’s both.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” She pats my knee. “But better to know now than when you’re in too deep.”

She’s right. I’m not disappointed because I’m attached to Devon; mostly because I’m bummed he didn’t solve my problems like I hoped. There goes our double-dating options and easy hangouts.

“Yeah.” I nod. “And the good news is, there are plenty more guys out there, right?”

“Absolutely.”

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