Page 121 of Before We're More Than Friends
Watching Raina perform the chorus, I had no idea how I’d gotten more votes than her. She was better in every aspect. Her skin shimmered while performing while I sweated like a pig. She sang her pain away perfectly, her voice sending me to a new high before making me crash again. It was a level of torture I never thought I was capable of experiencing.
She performed the short bridge before we sang the last chorus together. I tried to match her level, but my voice was shaking. I saidsidelinesinstead ofskylines.
I looked back to see Hayden mouth, “What the hell?” I shrugged, heat spreading all over my body.
After messing up at least four more times, surprised Raina wasn’t glaring at me by now, the song finished with my last line. As soon as I saidIdid, I bolted into the laundry room, tears clouding my vision.
I sat against the laundry machine, my heart storming in my chest. I tried to cover up a sob, but once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop.Please breathe, I begged myself as my chest rose and fell, nearly slipping into hyperventilation territory.
Why had that felt like the worst four minutes of my life?
Stop overacting. I hugged my knees to my chest as my thoughts spiraled. I should’ve never joined this stupid band. I should’ve never become friends with anyone. I should’ve kept to myself like I did at home.
Everything had been so much better before.
Muffled voices from the other side of the door grew loud, but I couldn’t make out what was going on from the way mypulse rushed in my ears. A minute later, the door creaked open. I looked to see none other than Raina, her cold gaze finally trained on me.
“Go away.” I turned my back toward her. “You don’t get to see me like this.”
“Too late.” She slid down next to me.
“You don’t have to be here because Hayden forced you to,” I muttered. “You’ve made it clear that you hate my guts. Message received.”
She stayed silent for a few moments. “I don’t hate you,” she said. “I never could, even if I wanted to.”
“Don’t lie,” I said, failing to keep my voice from breaking. “You can’t even look at me.”
“You’re the only one who’s turned away right now.”
I turned toward her again to see small black tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t want to look at you.”
She sighed, wiping her smudged makeup. “Listen, I know things are complicated between us, but Hayden really cares about Battle of the Bands. We shouldn’t ruin it for everyone.”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” I snapped, hating that I was so frustrated with her when I was the one to blame. Even if we were never as close as we were before, even if she didn’t love me back, I just wanted the ice in her eyes to melt. “Because I don’t hate you.”But I wish I did.
Raina sighed again. “Let’s just try everything again once you’re . . .”She studied my tear-stained face. While she was a pretty crier, I looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get the toy he wanted. Everything about her was freaking gorgeous, even when she was a disaster, and everything about me was . . . just a disaster. “I can stay with you until you feel better.”
“I-I’m fine,” I said, trying not to get lost in her gaze. This was so stupid. I’d died and gone to hell for an entire week and was still stuck in my head. Why couldn’t I just get over her and make things easier for myself?
I didn’t want to be on this floor forever.
“You’re not fine,” Raina said, her voice the softest it’d been all week.
“Well,” I said, getting up from the floor. “Sometimes you have to suck it up anyway.” I moved past her, my shoulder brushing against her arm, before walking back into the garage. It was time to face the music I wished I could shut off. “Let’s do that again.”
After that treacherous practice, I decided to call Toby. He hadn’t answered my calls since our fight last Saturday, which was just another stab to my heart. How many more could it take before it bled out?
On the fourth ring, Toby’s face appeared on the screen. He was taking a walk by himself, sweat dripping down his face and gray tank top.
“Dang, have you been working out more?” I asked. “Where did those muscles come from?”
“Hello to you too,” he said, his voice breathy. “Listen, I can’t talk right now?—”
“You’ve ignored me all week.”
“We miss calls all the time.”
“But this is on purpose,” I said, not in the mood to take any excuses. “I’m sorry for everything that happened last week. You were right. The past week has been hell on earth.”
