The Deal(131)

“Oh, he’s in the green room on the east stage. I just saw him.”

“Thanks.” I start to walk off, but she blocks my path. “Hannah, please. I really need to talk to you.”

Annoyance clamps around my throat. “Look, if you’re trying to apologize, don’t bother. Apology not accepted.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes. “Please don’t say that. Because I really am sorry. I’m so, so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have let Cass talk me into it.”

“No kidding.”

“I…I just couldn’t say no to him.” A helpless chord wobbles her voice. “I liked him so much, and he was so attentive and encouraging, and he insisted that the song was meant for one performer and that he was the only one who could do it justice.” Mary Jane’s entire face collapses. “I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m…so sorry.”

It doesn’t escape me that she’s using the past tense in regards to Cass. And although I’m a jerk for doing it, I can’t help but laugh. “He dumped you, didn’t he?”

She avoids my eyes, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Right after he got the solo.”

I don’t pity a lot of people. I mean, sympathy? I hand that out freely. Pity is reserved for someone I truly feel sorry for.

I pity Mary Jane.

“Should I bother saying I told you so?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. I know you were right. And I know I was stupid. I wanted to believe that someone like him was actually interested in someone like me. I wanted it to be true so badly that I screwed up my friendship with you.”

“We’re not friends, MJ.” I know I’m being harsh, but I guess my tact filter broke at the same time my heart did because I don’t bother softening my tone or censoring my words. “I would never screw over a friend like that. Especially over a guy.”

“Please…” She gulps. “Can’t we just start over? I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are.” I offer a sad smile. “Look, I’m sure eventually I’ll be able to talk to you without thinking about all this shit, maybe even trust you again, but I’m not there yet.”

“I get it,” she says weakly.

“I really need to find Jae.” I force another smile. “I’m sure Cass will do a great job with your song, MJ. He might be an *, but he’s a damn good vocalist.”

I dart off before she can respond.

I track down Jae and we hang out backstage until the show starts. After weeks of non-stop rehearsing, we’ve become friends, though Jae is still as shy as ever and afraid of his own shadow. But he’s only a freshman, so I’m hoping he comes out of his shell once he adapts to college life.

The freshman and sophomores are up first. Jae and I stand in the wings, stage left, watching as performer after performer takes the stage, but I have trouble concentrating on what I’m hearing and seeing.

I’m not in the mood to sing tonight. All I can think about is Garrett, and the agony in his eyes when I broke up with him, the slump of his shoulders when he left my dorm.

I have to remind myself that I did it for him, so that he can stay at Briar and play the game he loves without having to worry about money. If I had told him about his father’s threats, Garrett would have chosen our relationship over his future, but I don’t want him to work full-time, damn it. I don’t want him to drop out, or quit hockey, or stress about making rent or car payments. I want him to go to the pros and show everyone how talented he is. Prove to the world that he’s on the ice because he belongs there, and not because his father got him there.

I want him to be happy.

Even if that means I have to be miserable.

There’s a short intermission after the last sophomore performs, and backstage is hit with pandemonium again. Jae and I are nearly knocked off our feet as a never-ending stream of robe-clad students pour onto the stage. I realize they’re the members of Cass’s choir.

“That could’ve been us.” I grin at Jae as we watch the choir get in position on the dark stage. “Cass’s army of minions.”

His lips twitch. “I think we dodged a bullet.”

“Me too.”

When the show starts up again, this time I’m giving it my full attention, because the prodigy that is Cassidy Donovan has graced the stage. As the pianist plays the opening chords of MJ’s song, I experience a twinge of jealousy. Damn, it’s such a great song. I bite my lip, worried that my simple little ballad falls short compared to Mary Jane’s beautiful composition.