Page 14 of The Heart That Breaks
“Yep.”
We talk it through for several minutes, and then Nathan jots down his answer.
“So,” I say then. “You rode ten miles on a bike for that amount of help.”
“Maybe there was another reason.”
I lean back, give him a long look without making him admit I had been right about the ulterior motive thing.
It takes him a few seconds to get it out. “I was wondering if you’d like to go with me to Homecoming.”
If he had just pulled out the winning lottery ticket from last week’s Power Ball and declared it mine, I don’t think I would have been any more shocked. “Homecoming?”
“Unless you’re already going with someone else?” he says awkwardly.
“No,” I say, “but I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “I don’t have a dress. Or shoes. Or-”
“You have plenty of time to get them.”
“I realize it’s dark,” I say, “and you probably didn’t get a good look at the neighborhood, but in case you haven’t picked up on it yet, we don’t have boatloads of money for things like homecoming dresses.”
As soon as I say it, I flinch at the harshness in my voice and say, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just. . .things are pretty tight. Besides, whatever extra I have, I save up for Henry and our move to Nashville.”
From the look on Nathan’s face, I’m guessing everything I’ve just said sounds like it’s been uttered in a foreign language to him.
“You’re moving to Nashville?”
“After I graduate high school.”
“To do what?”
“I want to be a singer.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Sitting here in the middle of a trailer park with my dog tied to a plastic barrel, I must seem about as far from that kind of dream as it is possible for a human being to be.
“I’d like to hear you sing,” he says, surprising me.
“Your dad’s in the business so you must think I sound like I think it’s easy to just move to Nashville and boom, you’re a singer.”
“I didn’t think that. I want to move there too. Probably after college.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “I write songs.”
For some reason, I’m surprised. Although I guess I shouldn’t be. “Like your dad. That’s so cool.”
“They’re not anywhere near as good as his, but he says they have heart and soul, and that’s where all good songs start.”
“I’d like to hear them.”
“I don’t sing in front of other people. I don’t like my voice.”
“I bet you have a good voice.”
“Nah.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then, “Maybe you could try one of them sometime.”
