Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Claire

In the band practice room, I took out the guitar I’d played for my tryout the day before. The Squier Telecaster was inexpensive, its tri-color sunburst finish worn but still pretty.

I plugged it into the amp. I had an idea what song to play, but as soon as I sat and put my fingers on the strings, another one came to mind.

Strumming the sweet melodic introduction to my favorite Anthem tune, I calmed and my thoughts settled. My head down, I sang the lyrics about creating a new reality, a hopeful one, a heart-driven one. That was what my dad had always wanted for me.

But to have that type of reality, I had to create it on my own.

I can’t do it, Daddy. Tears that rose as I played, fell as I stopped. Southside isn’t a safe place, not for my heart or anyone else’s.

My pleas were for my father, but suddenly, it was Kyle’s voice that filled my head.

Music, like life, isn’t just to play. It’s to feel.

But Kyle didn’t follow that advice. He kept his heart and his emotions to himself.

It was possible that I’d gotten closer to him the night we’d spent together than most. I wanted to believe that my giving him all of me had meant something, though he’d only given me a part of himself in return.

Being here in Southside now, I could see the wisdom in that.

Here, it was about guarding what little you had. Yet Kyle had let down his guard to give me a part of him, and that part was compelling and seemed genuine.

I clung to that and decided to remember our night together the way I wanted to remember it. He could have his truth, and I would have mine.

Thinking about Missy, though, was painful. Kyle had probably given my new friend some of himself too. Missy knew a lot about him, and her expression softened whenever she mentioned him.

Kyle had a role to play here. Missy had hers. What was mine going to be?

You need to follow your heart, Claire. You never know you can fly or how high you can soar if you don’t spread your wings.

“Oh, Daddy.” With my body bent over the guitar, tears flowed that I didn’t attempt to stop. “I don’t know if I can fly without you.”

You’re more than what they see.

My dad thought I was. Considering Kyle’s actions in Lakeside when he’d rescued, defended me, and stayed when he should have gone—maybe, just maybe, Kyle had seen more too.

Kyle could keep the bracelet. I wasn’t even going to try to buy it back. The value wasn’t in the gold, though he thought it was. The value was in what Kyle had shown me about myself.

A knock on the window startled me from my deep thoughts. Stiffening, I glanced up.

It was Tommy. He peered at me through the glass, then pointed and came around to the door. I unlocked and opened it.

“What do you want?” I laid my hand over my chest, stilling the vibrating strings of my heart, silencing the emotions that lingered but were too raw and too personal to share.

“To check on you.” His brow creased in concern, he stepped inside and closed the door.

My heart started hammering. There was no one else in the band hall.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” Not sure.

“You’re crying.” He tilted his head. “Kyle wanted me to make sure you’re okay.”

“Kyle doesn’t get to have wants or desires that involve me anymore.” I lifted my chin, swiping the wetness away. “We’re over. He made that clear. I’m sure you heard what he said to me, along with everyone else.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have a right to.” Tommy’s brown eyes softened, matching his tone. “But he’s concerned. Missy was upset too. Is there anything I can do?”

“Why do you care?” My tone was harsh, and that wasn’t like me. I lived in Southside now, but that didn’t mean I had to be closed off like everyone else. I could still be myself. “I mean, you don’t even know me.”

“I don’t, but I’d like to.” Tommy shifted the weight of his towering frame from one foot to another. “Would you let me?”

I studied him a beat. His gaze was open like Missy’s and unwavering like Kyle’s.

“Sure.” I nodded.

Friendship wasn’t something you guarded against. It was something once you found, you held on to. Even with dangers all around, a friend could make you feel safe. Maybe even safe enough to follow your heart.

“Thanks.” His lips twitched. “Glad I passed the initial test.” He gestured to the guitar. “You play well.”

“Not as well as some,” I said, thinking of my mom’s talent and Kyle’s.

“Better than most.” Tommy shook his head. “Your voice is stellar. Worthy of that piece.”

He’d been listening to me play, and I hadn’t even noticed him.

“You like Anthem?” I asked.

“Complex compositions?” Tommy raised an inky brow. “Meaningful lyrics that draw heavily from Gale Lafleur’s love of science fiction and Arthur Levine’s study of eastern art and philosophy?”

“Uh, yeah.” I was impressed. Tommy obviously knew a lot about the band.

“I love Anthem,” he said firmly.

“Me too.”

“Figured you did.” He nodded reflectively. “I could feel it in the way you played ‘Near the Heart.’”

“I needed to remind myself some things,” I said softly.

“Positive things, I bet.” His gaze turned unfocused. “Anthem’s music got me through a lot of rough stuff when my parents divorced.”

“I’m sorry.” I reached out and touched his arm. “Divorce sucks.”

He glanced down at my hand, and I removed it.

Looking up, he shrugged. “It’s in the past. But since life’s a cycle, a circle, or so my dad believes, I don’t want . . . plan to repeat the same mistakes he did, not if I can help it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, loosening the tie around his hair. It spilled like liquid night around his wide shoulders.

My brows drew together. “I think we each make our own choices, and that those choices determine our path.”

“I hope you’re right. I’m trying to break the cycle, in my case.” He exhaled heavily. “But there’s a lot of evidence that things just go around and around without changing.”

“My dad says . . . said . . .” Trailing off, I felt the tightening in my chest from that correction. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Just because something seems difficult or impossible doesn’t mean it’s not worth the effort or the risk.”

“Sounds like he was wise and hopeful.”

“He was wonderful.” My fingers curled into my palms. “I really miss him.”

“Is he gone, Claire?” Tommy asked.

“Yes, he died at the beginning of the summer.” My voice caught on the ball of grief trapped inside my throat. “That’s why we’re here. Back in Southside, where my mom grew up and my aunt lives.”

“I’m sorry about your dad. That’s a big loss.” His eyes glistened with moisture. “My dad and I are close. I had the choice to come back stateside with him where his roots are, or to go back to Vietnam to live with my mom where hers are. I chose here.”

“I’m glad you did.” I offered him a small smile. It was real, but difficult to manage with sadness weighing me down.

“Wow.” His gaze dipped to my mouth then rose, his brown eyes shiny like water over earth-colored stones. “I see why Kyle . . . I mean, I’m glad I chose to live here too.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s cool if you want to keep processing in here alone, but I’d really like it if you came out into the hall, and we processed together. You could play your guitar while I drum.”

“I’d like that.” I’d found a new friend. The edges of my mouth lifted higher, effortlessly higher like they had wings.