I tilt my head to the side as I absorb this. “If she’s doing it for recognition, then she’s not out for success.”
Unlike me. I crave Mona’s success. Is it such an impossible dream? I suddenly feel downright gloomy. For the first time in my life, I wish I were more like Ten, like my mother. I wish I weren’t devoured by a single, all-encompassing passion.
Maybe I shouldn’t submit my song, because truth is, losing would be crushing.
I pour my qualms and hesitation into my practice session, and as I sing, my defeatist attitude strips away layer by layer before finally flaking off completely.
I might have to adjust my aim, shoot for the stars instead of the moon. Stars might not light up the world as brightly as the moon, but it doesn’t make their shine any less dazzling. I’d rather be a fleck of light in the darkness than not burn at all.
35
The Boy Who Blushes
At eleven a.m. sharp, a shrill honk makes me jolt so hard my hand jerks, dragging a squiggle of ink into the margin of my home ec homework. Mom looks up from the decorating magazine she’s flipping through. When she spots Ten’s Range Rover through the kitchen window, she waves.
I tuck my cell phone and keys into my suede cross-body bag, then drop a kiss on her cheek before striding toward the front door.
“Have fun at the mall, baby.”
I bet she didn’t put much stock in me trying to spend time with her client’s kids, much less enjoy spending time with them.
I pause at the door. “I’m going out with Rae tonight. You should make plans. Maybe go out on a date?”
A blush streaks across Mom’s face, as pink as her quartz cuff. “I’ll—I’ll call Nora.”
“Rae’s mom isn’t a man.”
Mom’s dimples appear. “I was going to call her so she could introduce me to one.”
“Okay. Call her.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
She flicks her hand to shoo me away.
“Not until you call her.”
“Angie—”
“Come on, Mom.”
“Fine.” She picks up her phone and taps the screen. Then she brings it up to her ear. “Nora? Hey.”
She could be faking it, but I doubt it.Bye, I mouth, and shut the door.
I head over to the backseat when I spot Nev gesturing to the front one.Shoot.I don’t want to sit next to Ten, but it seems like I don’t have a choice, so I draw open the passenger door and get in.
“Mornin’.” I smile at Nev, then at Ten, because what am I supposed to do? Pretend he’s not there?
Even though he turns my way, he’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see his eyes. From the tight press of his lips, I fathom he’s not too thrilled about this trip, or about my presence.
“Did you just wake up?” Nev asks, leaning over the center console.
“No,” I say at the same time as Ten says, “Nev, seat belt.”
“It’s on,” she grouses, forearms splayed on the back of both my and Ten’s headrests.
