Page 85 of From Drummer to Gamer

“I’ll head out in a few.”

“There are Cheetos in the pantry,” I announced, and her confused eyes locked on me.

“There is?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, rising as I walked toward the kitchen.

I felt her soft footsteps following me.

“Here.” I gestured to the massive cardboard box on the floor of the pantry. “I thought you were saving it for a later day.”

“I didn’t know,” she muttered, crouching as she opened the box and revealed the one-twenty packets of Cheetos in her favorite flavor.

“When did you get all this?” she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.

“Long ago, you did ask for a month’s worth when you helped me name the label. You eat four every day.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, wide-eyed.

I paused before answering, “I just do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as a flush of pink brushed her cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled as I walked out, not wanting to linger there any longer than necessary.

I strode straight to my music room, wanting to beat the frustration out of me. This room was my sanctuary, my quiet amid the noise. I felt the most like myself inside these four walls. Like I didn’t have to pretend or try harder or focus harder.

It had soundproofed walls, with my prized kits and a few trinkets I collected over the years.

It took three rhythm drills to fire me up and calm my heart, and the sweat trickled down the side of my forehead as I hit the beat over and over again, raising the tempo as I went.

I spent the next couple of hours exactly like that till I was drenched and my lungs burned with fire.

But I still couldn’t settle.

Luna was plaguing my mind, and Sierra was building a camp in my heart.

And I was stuck right in the middle, like a door without hinges in a rainstorm.

With no way in or no way out.

CHAPTER 18

MATT

“What’s on your mind, Matty?” Sierra came walking in just as I was sipping my second glass of coffee. I didn’t keep count at this point. It was just too damn good to worry about calories or the strict guidelines I had forced into my life.

“Nothing,” I muttered, my eyes gliding over her profile.

It was a Saturday morning, so Sierra was in her all-black attire with a little backpack hanging loosely over her shoulder.

“You seemed to be staring holes at the cabinets like they committed grave murder of your favorite pet.” Her voice was light with humor as she locked those shiny eyes with mine.

I cocked a brow but didn’t say a thing.

Her eyes flickered as some of the sparkle dulled. “I’m going to go meet my friends now. They’re here.” She poked a finger over her shoulder.

I nodded.

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