Page 9 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
Wylder accepted hers from Diego, but she didn’t eat it yet. “Why are you here?”
“Whe es wud e be?” Killian’s words were unintelligible through a mouthful of food.
Diego smiled affectionately. “I think he means where else would we be.”
“What are you doing?” Devyn set her plate on the dresser and sat next to Wylder to look at the computer.
Wylder sighed. “Looking for information on Logan.”
Killian winced, and Wylder’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I… uh… sort of heard from him today.”
That shouldn’t have hurt like it did. “What did he say?”
“Just that he was lying low at his brother’s place in Nashville.”
“That’s it?” She shut her laptop. “Did he say why he won’t talk to me?”
Killian shook his head.
“Maybe he associates you with what happened?” Diego shrugged. “Like you were responsible for making him get on stage.”
“You’re saying he blames me?”
“Diego,” Killian snapped. “Remember our talk of not just saying whatever comes to mind? This is one of those times.”
“No.” Diego straightened. “Wylder deserves to know all the possibilities. I won’t baby her. She’s stronger than that, Killian.”
“He’s right.” Devyn’s voice was small as she regarded Killian. “We don’t need to protect Wylder. She can handle anything. You shouldn’t be hiding Logan’s messages from her. Diego shouldn’t be watching his words. And I won’t keep quiet when I think she needs to forget about him.”
Wylder closed her eyes and released a breath. Devyn and Diego were right. She could handle another person leaving her. She could handle anything.
But that didn’t mean she had to accept it.
She needed a plan.
3
Wylder had a plan. She did. Not that said plan was a good one, or even fully formulated for that matter. She stared at her last text message to Logan, willing him to respond.
Wylder:So help me, Logan Samwise Cook, you won’t like what happens next if you don’t answer me this instant.
Crickets. That was his response. Nothing. And now she had to follow through with her threat.
“Miss Anderson, I expect my students to pay attention,” Mr. Carlisle called her out again. He seemed to get a kick out of humiliating her. “Mr. Cook might have fallen for your ridiculous and convoluted essays, but I won’t, and neither will your future college professors.”
“Ha,” Wylder let out a bark of laughter. Like she was going to college. That was never in her future, though, at a school like Defiance Academy, everyone around her was college-bound.
“What was that, Miss Anderson?”
“Nothing, sir,” she muttered under her breath.
“Then do you care to venture an answer to my question?”
“Sure.” Wylder sat up straighter. “Care to ask it again since I missed it the first time?”
“If you have any hope of passing my class, then you’d better start paying attention.”
