Famous in a Small Town(44)
Megan beamed at the camera. “Thank you.”
“Now, your new single, ‘Always You,’ from your debut album is out now. Loved the video for that, by the way. Gorgeous stuff.”
“Thank you. You’re so nice.”
“I’ve got some lyrics here—‘Dreaming of you always, thinking of you always’ … ‘You say I’m your queen, I say you’re my ace of hearts’ … Now we all know, you write all your own stuff, you’re this amazing singer-songwriter, so I gotta know … who’s the inspiration behind this? Who’s your ace of hearts?”
“Oh, you know. Creative license and all that.”
“Somebody back home? Hometown sweetheart?”
Megan just gave a little shrug, one dimple popping out on a smile.
The video for “Always You” came up next, autoplay cycling right into a scene of Megan in a beautiful white flowing dress, walking through a misty field. Strumming a guitar at the base of a tree. Standing at the edge of a pond, her bare feet in the shallows as she sang:
“‘Thinking of you always, looking for you always, your laugh on the wind, your light in the sky …’
“‘Hoping for you always.’”
I shut the video off.
thirty-two
Ciara:
I saw another mullet!!!!!!!!!
It wasn’t even 10% ironic
Amazing
Ciara:
Work is sooooo boring.
How’s band stuff going?
Ciara:
Okay new idea:
What do you think about visiting me??
I think I could get mom and dad on board We could pool our money for a ticket And ask for advanced Christmas and birthday presents lolol Maybe in August?
There’s lots of fun stuff we could do here Ciara:
ANOTHER MULLET I SWEAR TO GOD
Is this a thing?
Are they coming back?
How much would you pay me if I convinced Ravi to get one?
Ciara:
I talked to mom about the visit What do you think? Are you super busy?
Just let me know what you think Ciara:
Hope band and stuff is going okay Miss you lots
thirty-three
It’s not that I was avoiding everyone on purpose. But I picked up some extra shifts over the next few days. I dived into SAT prep as per The College Collective’s recommendation. I didn’t go by Teen Zone 2. And I didn’t see August either.
Not until Wednesday evening. I was riding my bike back from work, and he was getting out of the car with Kyle as I pedaled up to our driveway.
We made eye contact, so it was impossible to get away without at least acknowledging each other.
“Be there in a minute,” August told Kyle, and then crossed the lawn to where I stood. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, stranger.” I tried to smile. I could be totally normal.
“How’s it going?”
I shrugged. “I had work tonight. There was this whole expired coleslaw fiasco.”
“Cool.” It was like he hadn’t even heard what I said, like he had rehearsed what he was going to say so my responses were negligible. “So, uh. Look. About the other night—”
He paused here, like he was expecting me to interrupt. It’s okay, or Nah, forget about it. But I just blinked at him.
August smiled a little, forced sheepishness. “I, uh, I was pretty drunk,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking off down the street. “Don’t really … like I wasn’t really thinking about … what I was doing …”
Something dropped in the pit of my stomach, hard like a stone. “I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t have … I’d never …”
The fake smile evaporated, and a wrinkle appeared between his brows. “What?”
“If you were drunk, then we shouldn’t have done anything. I didn’t know, I would never—”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t that drunk,” he said, frowning. “I actually … wasn’t drunk at all, okay?”
“Which was it, were you or weren’t you?”
“I wasn’t.” He met my eyes. “I was just trying to make it … less …”
Oh.
You … seem really nice. He had said it all at the Movie Dome, what felt like ages ago. My mom always said, Given the chance, people will tell you exactly how they feel. You just have to be willing to listen. And August had told me. He had. I don’t know why I was surprised.
“It’s fine,” I said. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
“Sophie—”
“I would like it if we acted like it never happened. Okay?”
I didn’t wait for a response. I gripped the handlebars of my bike harder, started walking it toward the garage.
“Soph, wait.”
I looked back.
“Can we—Are we still okay? Like are we friends?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and he looked inexplicably upset. That made me angrier. He didn’t have the right to be upset. His eyes shouldn’t be the ones going sad, his mouth turned down at the corners.
“Friends don’t lie to each other,” I continued. “Or say they’re drunk if they’re not. Or say they’ll be right back and then never come back. They don’t do that to each other.”