After I find the letter, I call my mom while Ayden and I wait in the main office. The police make a huge scene as they search the school. Thank God it’s our last day; otherwise, we would’ve had to spend the rest of our school days with everyone gossiping about what happened. While I can handle staring, Ayden, my Shy Boy, has trouble with extra attention.
Aunt Lila is the one who ends up picking us up, because she’s closest to the school. But my mom, my dad, and Uncle Ethan are headed home.
By the time Lila arrives, the police have searched every nook and cranny of the school and surrounding area and found no sign of who left the note.
She doesn’t say a word as she barges into the office and strides straight for Ayden. “This has got to stop.” She throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “They can’t keep doing this to you.”
“They didn’t do it to me.” Guilt laces Ayden’s voice. “They went after Lyric.”
Aunt Lila looks over Ayden’s shoulder at me, then she snags hold of my arm and tugs me in for a hug too.
“I’m so glad school’s over,” Lila whispers as she continues to trap us in her death-grip-three-way hug. “Now we can keep an eye on you all the time.”
“That’s not completely true,” Ayden says. “You have lives. You can’t watch me all the time.”
Aunt Lila is quiet, and I can almost see her wheels turning, trying to find a way to make it possible for her to be a near Ayden at all times. She must not arrive at a conclusion, because she says, “Let’s get you two home, okay?”
We nod and follow her out to her car, leaving Ayden’s vehicle there for Uncle Ethan and my dad to pick up.
Ayden barely utters a word the entire drive home, and I can see where this is heading. That he’s blaming himself for the letter ending up in my locker.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s not your fault,” I hiss under my breath as Aunt Lila pulls the car into the driveway of the Gregorys’ home. “So stop going there right now.”
He turns his head away from the window, making eye contact with me for the first time in hours. “Lyric, they threatened you. I can’t just forgive myself for that.”
I scoot closer to him. “There’s nothing to forgive. Nothing happened. I got a letter. So what. They didn’t actually do anything to me. They just wanted me to pass along the message.”
“You heard what the officer said,” he whispers, self-torture rising in his eyes. “That letter was a threat.”
I point at a cop car parked at the end of the driveway. “It’s a good thing we have those then. Besides, they’re always sending you threats and notes. This was probably just another way to try to get to you.”
He crosses his arms. “I never should’ve dragged you into this mess.”
“You didn’t drag me into this mess. I willingly ran head on into it, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat just as long as I got to be with you.” I cup his chin in my hand, forcing him to look at me. “Now, you’re going to chill out, and we’re going to go inside and work on our songs so we can kickass at the recording tomorrow.”
“But I—”
“No buts,” I scold, but also smile to shine positivity to all the darkness trying to rain down on us. “We’re going to go practice, then we’re going to make out after we’re all finished.”
From the front seat, Aunt Lila clears her throat. “I’m going to go inside and give you two a moment. Please, don’t stay out here too long.” She opens the door to climb out. “And Lyric, I want you to wait with us until your parents come home. They don’t want you leaving for any reason.”
I salute her and she shakes her head like oh Lyric, you’re such silly girl. Then she ducks out and closes the door.
I fix my attention back on Ayden. “Now promise me that you’ll stop blaming yourself for what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter if I can forgive myself,” he says, looking at me with those sad puppy dog eyes of his. “Other people are going to blame me.”
“You mean my parents?” I ask and he nods. I link my arms around the back of his neck and slant toward him until our chests are flush. “I’ll tell you what. If they blame you then you can sink into your self-pity. But if they don’t, you have to stop blaming yourself. And I mean it. No self-blame. No sinking into your pain. No torture and despair.”
He considers what I said, his lips twitching as he restrains a smile. “You know, you’re starting to sound like a walking lyrical book.”
“It’s probably because I’ve been writing, like, all the time. I want to come up with some fresh stuff that maybe we can use on the tour.” I wait for him to argue about the we, and when he doesn’t, I go back to our deal. “Now promise me you’ll do it. Promise me you’ll forgive yourself if my parents don’t blame you.” I lean back and stick out my pinkie.
He sighs, but hitches his pinkie with mine and seals the deal. “Fine, I promise.”
“Good.” I give my best prize winning grin because I know I’ve won the deal already, since my parents aren’t the kind of people to ever blame Ayden for what happened. They like him more than Ayden thinks. They’ve always wanted me to be friends with him, even before we all met him.
I remember the day I was headed to meet Ayden for the first time. While I was walking over to the Gregorys’ with my parents, I tried to get out of going, mainly because I was bored and wanted to do something fun. My dad said something to me that still gets to me when I really think about it.
“You’re really lucky to have every single one of us,” he said. “And you should really get to know the new kid. He’s your age, and I’m sure he could use a friend with … Some of the stuff he’s been through. You could be that friend for him. Do something good.”
It’s amazing how much I followed his advice. But being friends with Ayden was never about doing something good. It always came so naturally, as if we were supposed to be friends long before we ever met. And if anything, he’s the one who did something good for me, by letting me into his world. It’s always made me feel so special that he’s trusted me so much.
After we get out of the car, Ayden and I go into his house and up to his room to work on our song that we’re supposed to be singing together on our album, but we spend a lot of time kissing too. About a half an hour later, the crazed parent mob shows up and we’re summoned to the kitchen. They tell Fiona, Everson, and Kale to go into the living room and work on their homework. After the room is cleared of the youngin’s, Ayden sits down at the table with Uncle Ethan while my worried mom sideswipes me with a hug.
“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She circles her arms around me, squeezing so tightly I feel like my lungs are being crushed.
I give her a moment before I step back. “I’m fine, Mom. Would you relax? Nothing happened.”
“I will not relax, Lyric Scott. We were so worried.” She has yellow, green, and red paint spots on her shorts and tee and even in her auburn hair, which means she probably rushed away from one of her art pieces.
I feel bad that she had to bail in the middle of a piece. As an artist myself, I know when inspiration strikes, you just roll with it until it stops; otherwise you could totally lose the vibe.
“But I’m fine.” I span my hands to the side and curtsey, trying to lighten the stressful tone taking over the Gregorys’ kitchen. “See, one hundred percent okay.”
My mom shakes her head exhaustedly. “You know, I’d ask you how on earth you could possibly joke at a time like this, but I already know my answer.” She shoots my dad a look.
He’s sporting his infamous bedhead/fauxhawk hair, a style that’s unintentional and only appears when he’s really stressed and has been raking his fingers through his hair.
He pulls a whoops face then shrugs. “Sorry, but you knew what you were getting into long before you married me.” He turns to me, his amusement vanishing as his arms fold around me. “I was so fucking worried about you,” he whispers in my ear so only I can hear.
“I know,” I whisper back. “But it’s okay. It was just a note.”
“Still, we’re going to keep an extra eye on you,” he promises. “No going out alone or anything.”
I nod my head up and down. “That’s fine by me, but Dad? This isn’t Ayden’s fault.” I keep my voice low so no one else will hear me.
“Of course it’s not,” my dad says, sounding shocked. “Why would you say that?”
“Because he thinks it is.”
We hug for a second longer then step back, forcing ourselves to relax for the sake of the others.
My dad walks over to Ayden, who’s sitting in a chair at the table, staring at the floor, looking so sullen I want to cry for him. “You’re okay, right?” he asks Ayden.
Ayden glances up, looking startled by my dad’s question. “Um, yeah, of course.” He looks at Aunt Lila, Uncle Ethan, and my mom who are all staring at him with concern.
He may blame himself for all of this, but there’s nothing but love for him right now. I just hope he can see it.
“Good. Good.” My dad yanks his fingers through his hair, making the strands go even more askew. “If you guys want, we can move the recording to a later date.”
“No way,” I protest at the same time Aunt Lila says, “I think that’s a good idea.”
I scrunch my nose at her. “That is so not a good idea and it’ll totally set us back for the tour.”
She shoots me a warning look from across the kitchen. “Lyric, I don’t think the tour is the most important thing right now.”
“It might not be, but right now everyone is so stressed out it’s starting to give me a headache,” I say, stealing a sugar cookie from the plate on the counter. “No one laughs anymore. Tells stories. Smiles. It’s all stress over this. Stress over that. And I really think everyone just needs to take a chill pill and focus on some fun stuff in life, even if it’s just for a few hours. Then you can all go back to acting twitchy and crazy.” The four of them give each other curious glances, so I keep on rolling. “What I think we need is for all of us get in the car and go do something fun.”
“And what do you propose this fun thing should be?” my dad asks, mildly amused.
“I don’t know.” I give a shrug. “I didn’t get that far when I was mentally preparing my speech.”
My dad looks at my mom who glances at Aunt Lila. Obviously, she’s the ringleader in their quartet.
“It might be good for everyone to get some fresh air,” she finally says after seconds tick by. “Just as long as we go someplace safe.”
“And relaxing,” I add, stuffing the rest of the cookie into my mouth.
“Hmmm…” My dad rubs his jawline. “I might know just the place.”
My dad is a kickass rock star/music producer, so when he said he knew a place that was both safe and relaxing, I was thinking maybe like a chill club that allows kids or perhaps a restaurant where the adults can drink a lot of wine. But nope. He takes us to Rock in Time Playhouse and Grub, which is pretty much a bedazzled pizzeria full of games, bouncy houses, and slides.
The second we step in, Fiona, Everson, and Kale race for the arcade section. Aunt Lila and Uncle Ethan chase after them while Ayden mutters something about needing to go to the bathroom.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” my mom says then wanders off to the bar to order a drink, leaving my dad and me to get a table and order food.
“You know we’re all over twelve,” I say to my dad as I point to the No Kids Over 12 sign beside the ball pit. “That so sucks. I want to jump in there like I used to do when I was a kid.” Back when everything was so simple, so easy, so effortless.
He waves me off, heading for a corner booth. “That rule doesn’t apply to us.”
“How do you figure?” I ask as I weave passed the empty tables, following him.
“Because I know the guy who owns this place.”
“Man, how many people do you know? Because it seems like a lot.”
“It comes with the territory of running my own business.” He slides into the booth and plucks a menu from a rack in the center of the table.
I plop down in the booth and cross my arms on the table. “I’m sure it might have something to do with the fact that you’re a retired rock star.”
“Perhaps.” He fixes his attention on the menu.
“How do you do it?” I ask. “I mean, handle people giving you all these special favors and acting weird around you.”
He shrugs, glancing up at me. “I’m not going to lie. Sometimes it’s not easy and it gets tiring—it’s part of the reason why I retired—but it was fun for a while.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to handle it? I mean, the environment.” While I’m a pretty confident person, I value his opinion.
He rests his arms on the table as his mouth curves to a frown. “As much as I want to say no and keep you home with me forever, I honestly think you’ll do just fine. You’re an amazing girl and very level headed.” He grins at me. “Plus, you’ve got my charming personality.”
“That I do. You’re going to let me go, though, right? I mean, you’re not going to try to keep me home, like Lila’s doing with Ayden.”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. Besides, I think it’ll be good for you to get away from here for a while and have some fun. Your senior year has been really stressful.”
“I know.” I spin a saltshaker in my hand. “I just wish Ayden was going with me.”
“I know you do, but you have to understand how hard it’s got to be for him to even think about going when his sister still hasn’t been found. Plus, I don’t think anyone will be able to convince Lila to let him go.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sit back in the seat, trying not to let my disappointment get to me. While I’m bummed, I know Lila and Ethan have every right to worry about Ayden. And everyone’s probably right. It’s probably too dangerous for him to go. But the dreamer side of me can’t help but think how much Ayden might regret missing out on this. He’s missed out on so many life experiences already
Missed.
Missed.
Missed.
I’m going to miss Ayden.
I’m going to miss everyone.
“Dad, I’m really going to miss these talks of ours while I’m gone,” I feel the overpowering need to tell him.
“I am too, Lyric.” He chokes up. “But you know I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need to talk, just call me. In fact, I insist you call me at least once a day.”
I stick out my pinkie. “Deal.”
He hitches pinkies with me, offering me a small smile. “You know I’m the one who taught you how to promise this way, right?”
“I remember. I was four and you were promising me that you’d be home for my birthday even though you were on tour.”
“You really remember that?” His eyes gleam with hope.
“Of course I remember. Just like I remember you never broke one single promise. You’re an awesome dad. Always have been.” I shoot him a cocky smirk. “That’s why I turned out so awesome.”
“You did turn out pretty freakin’ awesome, if I do say so myself.” He returns his attention to the menu, trying to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes.
I really am going to miss him—miss everyone.
I glance at Kale and Everson freaking out over of a buttload of tickets pouring out of a machine, at Fiona and Ethan playing the arcades, and at my mom and Aunt Lila at the bar, sipping on wine, and laughing about something.
I smile to myself at how happy they all look.
Mission of Fun accomplished.
As I look back to my dad, I note all the tables around us are empty and a thought occurs to me. “Did you ask the owner if we could have this place to ourselves for the day?”
“I might have.” He smiles as he reads over the menu.
“Nice job, daddy-o. I’m sure everyone will appreciate the down time.”
But there’s one thing missing from this picture of fun. Something I think I need to go check on.
“I’ll be right back.” I jump to my feet and wink at him. “Order me a beer while I’m gone.”
My dad just shakes his head and mutters, “So much like me.”
I wind past the tables and burst into the men’s room.
Ayden is leaning against the tile wall with his head tipped back, his gaze locked on the ceiling. He jumps at my sudden appearance, his eyes popping wide. “Holy shit, you scared me.”
“No more sulking,” I warn, aiming a finger at him. “You promised me if no one blamed you that you’d let it go.”
“I wasn’t sulking,” he tries to assure me. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About…” He drags his fingers through his hair and puffs out a breath. “About us.”
My expression fizzles to a frown. “It’s never a good sign when someone is over analyzing their relationship.”
“No, it’s a good thing this time. I swear.” He strides toward me, stopping only inches away, panic gleaming in his eyes. “I don’t want to be a selfish person, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to be with you. When I saw that letter… I realized how easily I could lose you and how much it’d kill me if it happened.”
I thread my fingers through his. “Then don’t lose me. Be with me.”
“It’s not that simple.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “Every time something happens, I can’t help but worry that something bad’s going to happen to you and it’ll be my fault.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I press.
“You don’t know that for sure,” he mutters.
“Okay, you know what, I don’t.” I tug on his arm, pulling him closer to me. “But something bad could happen at any moment, even while we’re standing here. Like the roof could cave in and crush me. That wouldn’t be your fault, and you can’t control it from not happening.”
“Why would the roof cave in?” he questions with a trace of a ghost smile.
I give a half shrug. “I don’t know, maybe that foul stench is rotting it away.”
He chuckles but then his mood nosedives. “I get your point, but I don’t think you’re getting mine.”
“Okay…” I study him closely. “Could you explain it to me then, because apparently, my mind-reading skills are a little wonky right now.”
“You were right about what you said … That no one smiles anymore. Not even you.”
“I smile.” I grin just to prove my point.
“But not as much as you used to.”
“Ayden, that’s not your fault—”
He places his finger to my lips, shushing me. “I’m not saying it’s my fault. I’m just saying that you deserve to smile more, which I know you will when you’re on the tour. In fact, I bet you’ll smile so much you’ll even get Sage to join in.” He lowers his hand, tracing his fingers down my chin, to my neck, and the collar of my shirt. Goose bumps sprout across my skin, even though it’s a hundred degrees in here. “But I want to be there to see you smile. I want to be the one smiling with you.”
“I’m not quite sure what you’re saying.” Or maybe I do, and I just don’t want to get my hopes up.
“Me neither.” He sighs, frustrated. “I just wish I could experience all of it with you.”
A glimmer of hope shines inside me. “Then experience it with me.”
“But how am I supposed to do that with all the stuff going on?” Sadness consumes his face. “And what about Sadie? How can I just bail on her?”
“You wouldn’t be just bailing. You’ve helped a lot. And you can still help.” I step toward him until the tips of our shoes brush. “You want to know how you do it? You just do it—you just go. You say to hell with the faulty roof, flip it the bird, and live your goddamn life.”
“I wish it were that simple,” he says quietly. “But no one would ever let me just take off. And what if the Soulless Mileas chase me down? What if I put everyone in danger?”
“Those are all possibilities, but so is the police finding the people who are doing this to you. They could find Sadie. This could all be over soon. You never know. That’s the thing, Ayden, you never know about anything. Just like you never know if you’ll ever have a chance to do something like this tour again. It might be a once in a lifetime opportunity. And if you want to go, then we’ll find a way. Don’t let anyone take away your life from you.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to agree that he’ll do it. Go with me on this crazy three-month journey lying ahead of me.
He doesn’t flat out say it, but he does faintly smile and the tension in his body unwinds.
“We’ll talk to our parents and figure something out if you decide you want to do this,” I say, trying not to get too hopeful. Not until he says it aloud. “But right now, there’s something way more important we need to do.”
His forehead furrows as he stares at me. “And what’s that?”
A wicked grin rises on my face as I haul him toward the door. “We need to go jump in the ball pit. Like, right now.”
He laughs as I drag him out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. I don’t slow down as we race for the ball bit. I just hold on until the edge and then jump.