Page 84 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“But look at my hand.”
“It’s just nerves.”
“It’s a brain injury.”
The swell in my heart deflates with a tear.
He strums again, keeping his head hanging low. He then strums two more times. And then three times, up and down.
He looks at me with a small smile. “Okay, that part isn’t too scary.”
I stand on my knees. “You feel okay?”
He nods and taps the fretboard. “Yeah, but I, I don’t wan-wanna do this part yet.”
“That’s okay. You’ve taken a huge step just holding the guitar.”
He tilts the guitar against his lap. “This is a nice one. You’ve watched me play it at concerts?”
“Not live.” I cringe. “But I’ve watched the recordings over and overagain.”
Wyatt’s eyebrows lift and he sucks in a ragged breath.
I cringe, hoping I haven’t triggered him.
He chews his lip, resting the guitar against him. “What kind of songs do I play?”
“You play pop songs, just like the old covers. Your second album had some electronic beats. Also had some cool blends with an indie folk sound.”
Happy surprise lifts his face. “Oh, that’s cool.”
I slip my hand in my pocket, grasping my phone. “Did you want to hear one?”
He grits his teeth, too tense to use his words.
“You don’t have to. I know you’ve been avoiding all this stuff.”
He slips the guitar off, sitting it on the bed beside him. On the other side, he pats the empty space next to him. “If I’m with you, I should be okay to hear it.”
I sit on the bed, nestled close to him. I open my phone to the playlist of Wyatt Hayes songs. It’s filled with studio tracks, concert performances, and recordings from Talent Quest. I tilt the phone so he can see the list. “There’s a few songs to choose from.”
Wyatt’s eyes widen, and he leans forward. Tentatively, he flicks a finger against the phone screen, scrolling through the playlist. “Dang. They’re all my songs?”
“Everything you’ve recorded that I could get my hands on.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
I scroll back up the list, landing on ‘Summer Glow.’ “This was the first song you released after winning the reality show. It still gives me chills.”
He peels my thumb away from the play button. “Not yet.”
I place the phone on my lap and curl my hands around his. “No problem.”
“I-it’s like I’m li-living in some crazy dream. Can you imagine wa-waking up and being told hun-hundreds of people know your name, and y-you’ve recorded albums, and been in, in movies?”
I stop myself from correcting him. It’s not hundreds of people, it’s millions. But I think that would only hurt his brain further.
I squeeze my hands around his. “No, I don’t know how I’d deal with my life completely changing. Especially when it seems like it was overnight. But I don’t have to imagine it, because I see you going through it. It’s not fair.”
