Page 11 of Wylder and the Secret Rockstar
“Not exactly,” Beckett hedged.
“Let me guess. You changed my schedule months ago thinking you’d have all summer to get me back into music, and that I’d be happy about the class.”
“Maybe.”
“You know I’m an adult now, Becks.” Her tone softened. “I can make my own choices.”
“It’s just so frustrating to see you give up something you’re so good at when I can’t be there to help you.”
She could practically see her brother’s earnest face begging her to understand.
“I’m dropping the class, Becks.” She stood, gathering her bag, and marched off toward the headmistress’s office.
“Just give it a week,” Beckett begged. “One week, and if you still hate it, you can drop the class.”
“I’m not going to change my mind in a week.”
“Give it a chance, Wylds. For me?”
“Ugh! Why are you such a pest? You know most older brothers leave their younger siblings alone.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not most brothers. Besides, you love me, and you know I’m just looking out for you. One week. That’s all I’m asking.”
“One of these days you’re going to have to learn I can look out for myself.”
“One week. Say yes, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Fine, one week, and then I’m out.”
“Love you, sis. You better hurry. You’re going to be late for class.”
“Stay out of my business.” Wylder sighed.
“And?”
“And, I love you too, you big meddler.” Wylder ended the call and rushed across the quad just as the late bell rang for the next period.
* * *
“No running in the halls, Ms. Anderson,” Headmistress Jones called after Wylder as she slid to a stop in front of the music room door.
“Sorry, Headmistress.”
“Late already? It’s the first day, Wylder. I’d hoped you would get off to a better start this year.”
“You can blame my brother for signing me up for this class without my permission.”
“He worries about you, dear.”
“You’ll be seeing me soon in your office. I have some changes to make to my schedule.”
“Well, don’t keep Mrs. Shepherd waiting.”
“Thanks!” Wylder yanked the door open and darted into the silent room. A dozen pairs of eyes glared at her.
“Sorry I’m late. Scheduling issues.” Wylder scrambled to the nearest seat at an empty desk for two.
“As I was saying,” Mrs. Shepherd continued, moving to place a syllabus on Wylder’s desk.
