Page 76 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
“Who was it?” Logan took a step toward his brother.
“I don’t know yet. They’re waiting for us in the headmistress’s office. Wylder, your parents are waiting too.”
“Then let’s go.” She grabbed her coat and followed Logan and Bash into the hall. “If it’s someone I know, I’m going to tear their face off for causing such a mess.” Wylder stomped across the quad toward the admin building. The walk was just long enough for Wylder to get good and mad, but the closer they got to Ms. Jones’ office, the quieter Logan grew.
“You ready for this?” She reached for his hand, hesitating when she caught Sebastian’s gaze. But this was bigger than her Cook-boy problems. She grasped Logan’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
He just nodded and stepped into the headmistress’s office where Wylder’s parents sat waiting.
“There she is.” Her dad stood up and pulled her into a big dad bear hug. She gave him so much crap for those hugs, but they were the best thing about her dad. His hugs were magic.
“Hi, sweetie.” Her mom joined them. “I hope this news will put all this to rest for all of you.” She gave Logan and Sebastian her best supportive mom look.
“If you’ll all join the headmistress in the conference room, this way.” The school secretary led them through a set of double doors to a corridor Wylder had never seen before. She still couldn’t shake the feeling she was in trouble.
“Please everyone, take a seat,” Ms. Jones held the door open for them. Lawyers and official looking detective-type people sat around the glass table where Wylder, Logan, and their guardians joined them.
“With cooperation from YouTube and some good old-fashioned detective work, we’ve been able to track the source of the original upload of the video,” the lead detective said. “We have a physical address associated with the IP address at the time of the original upload.” He passed a sheet of paper to the headmistress.
“Do either of you recognize this address?” Ms. Jones asked, passing the paper to them.
Wylder stared at the paper over Logan’s shoulder. Webster Avenue. She recognized that road. “It’s a Nashville address,” Wylder whispered. “I’d have to ask my brother if he recognizes this address.” She’d seen it somewhere before.
“It’s Luke’s,” Logan said in a raspy voice.
“You know who lives here?” Ms. Jones asked, picking up the sheet of paper with the address.
It hit Wylder then. The street was in the same neighborhood as Becks’ home. She turned to Logan, and a fire of recognition shone in his eyes.
“My brother did this.”
Epilogue
“So, Luke, is there anything you’d like to tell my viewers?” Marigold Martin of the Los Angeles Daily Show stared at Logan. She knew he wasn’t Luke, and she was giving him a chance to come clean about it.
Logan wiped his clammy hands against his knees, chancing a glance at the edge of the stage where Sebastian stood, giving him the moral support he desperately needed right now. And beside him stood Wylder. The girl who chased his stage fright away.
Logan zeroed in on his brother’s gaze. Sebastian gave Logan a single nod. The brothers had always been close, and Sebastian was a big brother and father all rolled into one. That nod told Logan to do what he thought was best. To think about himself for once.
“Well, Marigold.” Logan took a deep breath and found Wylder’s eyes, taking strength from her calming presence. “A very wise and often underappreciated friend once asked me what really mattered to me. I’m not sure I could have given him an answer that day, Luckily, he seemed to understand that and didn’t wait around for me to come up with something lame. He just put his ridiculous hat on and left me to figure it out on my own.”
Marigold smiled and leaned forward in her chair. “And do you have an answer for him now, Mr. Cook?”
“I do.” Logan nodded. “The truth matters more than anything. I don’t think I even realized how much until now.”
“Are you saying it’s all been a lie, Logan?”
Logan shook his head. “No, Marigold. It’s not all a lie. My brother, Luke Cook is an amazing singer, but he happens to be an even more amazing guitarist. Better even than you all know.”
“But your voice was better? More attractive to the music executives looking for the next great solo act.”
Logan jerked his head back to look at the woman interviewing him. Was she on their side? “I have the stronger voice, yes, but did you also know I have crippling stage fright?”
“Not from what we’ve seen of you in that amazing video of you and Beckett Anderson’s little sister.”
“Wylder. Her name is Wylder.” Logan smiled. “And she gets me through my stage fright. But before her, I couldn’t do it. I tried, but even when we lived in Memphis and our older brother, Sebastian dragged us all over the city to sing in bars and gigs to get some experience on stage—and earn enough to buy groceries—I couldn’t always get through a set with my brother.”
Marigold turned toward her silent audience. “But together, you made one perfect musician?”
