“He wouldn’t—I mean, he can’t—”
“You don’t think he would ask me?” Kylee scowled. “I’m not his type, is that it?”
“No. I mean, I have no idea what his type is. I just never thought . . .”
“What? That a guy would choose me over you?”
Rae blinked. She was digging herself a hole with a personalized shovel. She didn’t know what she thought. Or what she meant. She only knew the idea of David and Kylee together made it hard to breathe.
“It’s not that.” Her voice was desperate. Pathetic. “I didn’t know you liked him.”
Kylee pushed away from the table and looked down at Rae. “I never said I did.”
A rush of air escaped Rae’s lungs. This was just Kylee stirring things up, as usual. That’s all this was. She preferred guys with tattoos and bad grades, like Seth. Guys who couldn’t begin to charm the scales off a fish, as the saying went. Someone like David would be too boring for her, right?
Kylee marched away from the table, her words still lingering in the air, then stopped. Her eyes flashed as she turned back to look at Rae. “Then again, I never said I didn’t.”
RAE DIDN’T HURRY to get across the street to Room F when the last bell rang like she usually did. She couldn’t work up any excitement for it. She even considered bailing and catching a ride home, but Taylor was counting on her. Rae had the feeling most of the people in Taylor’s life were in the habit of letting her down. She didn’t want to be one of them.
As she trudged down the hall toward the double doors at the front of the school, she saw David through the glass. He never waited for her anymore, and yet he hadn’t quit Community Hope. While part of her had been afraid he only volunteered to impress her, his commitment to the kids in Room F hadn’t wavered.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. Maybe later today she would try to talk to him.
Before she reached the door, Kylee appeared at David’s side. Rae froze. What was she doing? Kylee stood close to him, talking. Smiling. Rae studied David’s face. Did he look interested? He didn’t look not interested.
Her heart pounded. Okay, she was definitely going to talk to him after Community Hope. People pushed past her on either side. She hesitated. Should she rush through the doors and interrupt them? Or walk by and ignore them?
Or wait until they were gone. Yep. Definitely her best option.
Whatever they were talking about, it didn’t take long. Kylee gave David’s arm a little tug that made Rae want to bang her head against a locker, and then she headed off toward her car. David walked through the mass of students loading onto buses and crossed the street.
Rae waited until both were out of sight before leaving the building, anger and confusion storming inside her. Her English teacher always warned the class about committing “assumicide”—causing yourself unnecessary trouble by making assumptions without all the facts—but how could she not assume Kylee was out to steal David from her? Not that David was hers. . . .
Aargh. She tucked her thumbs under the straps of her backpack and hurried over to Greenville Community Church. This was why her parents had warned her about getting involved with boys. This was why they always stressed the importance of letting nothing distract her from her studies. See? Here she was, a total mess, not caring one iota about her homework or her future goals.
All she cared about was working things out with David.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Don’t your parents wonder why you’re in a program for kids with bad grades?” Gerrit asked.
Morgan stared at the table. “No.”
“They don’t think it’s strange?”
The kid shrugged.
Gerrit rubbed his chin. He’d seen the books Morgan carried around in his backpack. AP Calculus. World Literature. Physics. Why he wanted to waste his brain singing songs on street corners, Gerrit had no idea. But even more bewildering was why his parents would let him. He exchanged a look with Daisy but didn’t get the impression she was on his side.
“Do they know about the songwriting thing?”
Morgan stiffened. “It’s not a ‘thing.’ It’s my dream.”
“Okay.” Gerrit huffed. “Fine. Do they know about your dream?”
“My mom says she had a dream once. But then . . .”
“Then you came along and ruined everything?”
Morgan frowned.
Oops. That hadn’t come out right. But if Morgan’s story was going where he thought it was, he’d heard it all before. Parents blaming their kids for their problems, as if they’d asked to be born.
“No.” Morgan’s voice sounded far away. “Then my dad started drinking, and she had to get a second job.”
Oh. That was a whole different story. One that didn’t sit well at all. A man had to provide. It was his duty. “Where’s your dad now?”
Morgan stroked Daisy’s head but didn’t answer.
Gerrit sighed. “I suppose your mom wants you to follow your heart.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He looked at his hands. The wrinkles. The swollen knuckles. Thought of the thousands of times he’d used them to milk a cow, throw a bale, shovel sawdust. They’d served him well as far as that stuff went, but what did he know about dreams? He knew Morgan was a smart kid. He knew he didn’t want him to waste his potential on a street corner. But he didn’t know anything about following your heart.
The kid’s red notebook lay on the table, tattered and yet somehow discerning.
He gestured at it with his chin. “You fill that thing up yet?”
“Almost.”
“Can I see it?”
He wasn’t sure what compelled him to ask. He didn’t know anything about writing songs. Still, he had the feeling the notebook was one of Morgan’s most prized possessions. And for some reason that made him want to look at it.
Morgan picked up the notebook and held it as if calculating its weight. “What
