Page 36 of Tell Me Again
Strange the comfort she took in those words coming from the man who’d made sure this was the first school performance she’d had an opportunity to see. But he was right. She was here now.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said a silent prayer to her twin. We both made mistakes, Bryce. But I want to fix them. I want to be a part of Grace’s life because she’s a part of both of us. Help me out, ok? Just this once.
It had been years since she’d had a conversation in her head with her sister. After Bryce’s death, Sam had mourned the invisible connection they had as twins as much as she grieved her sister’s passing. Talking to Bryce in her head had become a comfort and a curse. It felt like she was never alone, but the moments when she heard Bryce’s voice the clearest were the times when Sam was making the worst choices.
Now she waited for a sign or a whisper of awareness—the shiver across the back of her neck, like she saw on cheesy made-for-TV movies. She got nothing. Wasn’t that just like Bryce?
Sam was on her own here to deal with preconceived judgments from a crowd of people who knew nothing about her. It’s how life had always felt. Even before her looks set her apart, her place on the outside had been set in stone. The result of her boozy, loud, argumentative mother. Lorna Carlton had craved being the center of attention, and whether it was in a bar on Friday night or at back-to-school night with her girls in tow, she’d expected all eyes on her.
Sam wanted to blend in, which made becoming famous for her face ironic. It’s also why she’d been able to walk away at the height of her career. She might have cultivated the reputation as a wild and crazy diva, but she’d never craved attention the way her mother had.
It didn’t make this moment any easier. She would have given up all that success for a normal life. To be just another proud relative watching her niece play the clarinet.
“Stop fidgeting,” Trevor said softly.
“I can feel everyone staring at me,” she said, glancing at him.
He looked truly confused. “Shouldn’t you be used to that?”
“This is about Grace,” she told him. “I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to steal the spotlight.”
“She wants you here,” he reminded her. “And Grace isn’t your sister or your mother. While it kills me to admit it, she’s fascinated by who you were as a model. She’s over-the-moon excited to parade you in front of her classmates. You’re famous and you belong to her.”
You belong to her.
Those four words made tears clog Sam’s throat. She hadn’t belonged to anyone since Bryce. The bond between them had been so complicated and twisted she’d forgotten how special it was to have that connection with another person.
She blew out a breath as the junior high band conductor took the stage.
“That’s better,” Trevor whispered, and placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. “We’ve got this.”
The students filed on stage and cameras began to click in the audience. As Grace took her place, she flashed a grin and waved to Trevor and Sam.
“We’ve got this,” Sam repeated, and placed her hand over Trevor’s. His fingers linked with hers, and she smiled as she listened to the first strains of a familiar march.
The band played for close to an hour. The people around them grew restless, a few of them checking phones or whispering with a neighbor. Sam’s attention was held rapt. There was so much joy as the kids played—and occasionally butchered—a string of famous songs.
“I need to order instruments for the camp,” she told Trevor as the audience applauded and the musicians took their bows. “Hire a music teacher. That was amazing.”
He studied her for a moment. “You were impressed by an eighth grade band concert?”
“We didn’t even have a high school band. A lot of my kids are just like we were; they have no exposure to music or art.”
“We had football.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a laugh. “Despite the fact that the school district in Colby, Oklahoma, had no money, we managed to fund a team good enough to vie for the state championship all the years I can remember.” They filed out of the aisle. “You were the team’s star running back. Whatever happened to your football career?”
“Grace happened,” he said simply.
Sam stopped then stumbled forward as the man behind her bumped into her back. She grabbed Trevor’s arm, pulling him to the edge of the auditorium, out of the stream of family members heading to the post-concert reception.
“What does that mean?” she hissed.
He flashed her a bland smile but she could see a muscle ticking at the side of his jaw. “What do you think it means? I was trying to get my grades up at the community college so I could transfer to OU and play ball when I found out Bryce was pregnant.”
“You dropped out of school,” she whispered.
“There weren’t any other options.” He ran a hand through his hair, looked over her shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”
