Fletcher
Ifeel like we just did this drive.” Tate opens up a granola bar and hands it to me. “The turnaround between Thanksgiving and Christmas is ridiculous.”
“At least we live down by campus,” I begin. “I think it sucks more for the students who go home for Thanksgiving, just to come back for a couple of weeks to do midterms and then go back home.”
“Trust me, I’m thankful for that. I don’t know if I’d be able to survive my parents for six weeks.”
“You wouldn’t have to,” I tease. “They wouldn’t be around.”
“You got me there. I honestly see them just as much now as I did when I was a kid and lived in the same house as them.”
“We’re going to your place first, right?” I glance at her, and her shoulders tense up.
“Unfortunately. Naomi got in a few hours ago with her fiancé, so if I don’t go straight there, I’ll hear about it for the next few days.”
“Did they try to get you to stay?” I raise an eyebrow. “I have to go back because of hockey, but you have no reason to go back before the new year.”
“That’s rude.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“I have a new song to write for this thing I’m entering.”
“A thing?”
“Yeah, it’s silly, honestly. And the chances of it happening are one in a million, so it’s—”
“What is it?”
“Nashville has this competition for unknown artists to enter, and if you win, you get to gig around Nashville and meet with record execs and—”
“Shut the fuck up.” I pull into the Jewel parking lot, put the car in park, and turn toward her. “Tate, that’s huge.”
“It’s not like I have it.” Her face falls.
“Yeah, but it’s a big deal that you’re even putting yourself out there.”
“I guess.” She shrugs. “Brin wants me to start posting videos of me singing on social media, but the thought of people I don’t even know judging me is just—”
“I think that’s a great idea.” I interrupt. “Tate, I know it’s hard to accept that you have an amazing voice, and you think we only tell you that because we’re your friends, but I’m telling you, if you sucked, I’d be honest.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“I would. Scouts honor.”
“You weren’t a Scout.”
“So.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll take her up on it. She said she’ll set everything up, and I’ll just post when I want to.”
“Perfect. Now, let’s run into Jewel really quickly. I just need to get some booze for Christmas Eve tomorrow, and Mom wanted some more dessert options.”
“Doesn’t she usually make everything?” I get out of the car, and Tate follows. Crazily enough, the weather is better today than it was when we drove down for Thanksgiving.
“She does, but I guess she went all out for Christmas Eve dinner this year and only had time to make a couple of desserts, so she just wanted me to grab some cookies and ice cream.”
Tate grabs a cart as we enter the store, and we head straight to the alcohol section.
