Inspiring You
Page 9

 Jessica Sorensen

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“Why are you acting all twitchy?” Sage, the drummer in my band, asks during math class.
“I’m not acting twitchy.” I lie, unsure what to tell him since he doesn’t know much about Ayden’s situation.
He rakes his fingers through his blue hair, eyeballing the pen I’m tapping madly against the desk. “You aren’t, huh?”
I cease the tapping and slump back in my seat. “There’s just some stuff going on, and I’m having a hard time handling it.”
He shoves up the sleeves of his grey shirt, revealing the multiple tattoos on his arms. “That doesn’t sound like you. You always seem like you can handle anything.”
“I try to, but I can’t always be perfect.” I flash him my pearly whites. “Everyone’s got to have their flaws, and while mine are super small, I do have them.”
“I wasn’t saying you have to be perfect . . . I was just . . .” He studies me, fiddling with a piercing in his brow. “Is this about Ayden?”
Sage used to have a crush on me so whenever he mentions Ayden, things get a little weird and uncomfortable. But right now, I’m more concerned he might know what’s been going on with Ayden. I have no idea how he’d know, but Ayden is a private person and would freak out if Sage or Nolan, the bassist of our band, found out.
“No.” I glance at the clock. “Everything’s fine with Ayden.”
“Are you sure?” he questions, staring me down. “I know you’ve been struggling with him leaving the band . . . You’ve been distant at tryouts. It’s got to be hard, trying to replace him.”
“It’s not about that.” I chew on the end of my pen. “Well, it does kinda suck balls that we have to replace him, especially when everyone that’s tried out sucks balls too.”
“I think that might be the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He seems amused by the fact.
“Why? I don’t tell them they suck balls.” I sigh when he keeps grinning at me. “Okay, I know I’m being a total Debbie downer right now, but seriously, how are we supposed to rock this tour if our guitarist can’t carry a tune? We need to find someone spectacular. Or at least someone who can hit all the notes.”
“Would you relax? We’ll find someone,” he reassures me, sitting back in the chair.
I don’t want to find someone. I want Ayden.
The idea of being on the road, touring, is freaking amazing, and I know I’ll go even if Ayden can’t. But being away from him for that long is going to be torturous. Plus, the people who’ve tried out are in no way as musically talented as Ayden.
“But you might have to stop comparing everyone to Ayden,” Sage says. “We might just have to settle for someone who’s not as good as him.”
“I know,” I say, even though it kills me. It’s time for me to start sucking it up and being the ever-so-amazing optimist I know I can be. “That one dude with the green hair might have potential.”
He grins. “There’s the Lyric I know.”
“She’s just a little tired.” I pretend to take a bow. “But she decided she needed to quit hiding being her exhaustion and make a grand appearance.
We bust up laughing, but then the teacher forces us to quiet down.
A half an hour later, the final bell rings, dismissing school for another day. I hurry out of the classroom and zigzag through the packed hallway, making a beeline for Ayden’s locker. I try not to freak out when he’s not there. While he promised me I could go with him to the therapy appointment, I worry he’ll pull a classic Ayden move and try to go without me, thinking he’s protecting me somehow.
I bounce up and down on my toes, scanning the people lollygag through the halls, and then watch amusedly as Sage makes a U-turn when he spots my friend Maggie heading in his direction. The funny thing is, she does the same thing when she notices him. The two of them have acted so awkward since they almost hooked up. From what Maggie told me, they were both so wasted it ended up being a disaster, and they’ve barely been able to look each other in the eye ever since.
“What are you smiling about?” Ayden asks, appearing by my side out of nowhere, like a freaking ninja.
He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt, and strands of his dark hair hang in his eyes that carry so much sadness. Although not as much as they used to.
“It’s nothing,” I say, shamelessly checking him out. “I was just laughing at Maggie and Sage and how they run away from each other every time they’re about to cross paths.”