“I know,” he says with a grin. “But I didn’t. That’s why I can give you wise advice that I wouldn’t follow myself.”
“I hate you.”
“I hate you too.”
“I always have the feeling I’m a failure.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “I was trying for months to write good songs again, and all that time I couldn’t do it. Why does it suddenly work now, with her?”
“I would say it’s because you have feelings for her, but I don’t think you want to hear that. So I’ll say something else. Maybe it’s because you two are so similar. Don’t argue with me, I know you. I don’t know Rayne very well, but I know which songs she likes enough to share with you.”
I’m about to ask how he knows that, but he beats me to it.
“Your Spotify account betrayed you. Dude, you made a playlist with all the songs she sent you.”
I blush furiously, and I can’t deny it because it’s the truth. I just didn’t think Beck had been aware of it. It’s not like I gave the playlist her name. It must be the song choices that gave it away.
“But that’s not what this is about,” he continues. “She’s doingsomething to you. It’s been happening ever since you started writing to each other. Are you really surprised that you could write a good song together?”
I want to say yes, just out of principle, but I would be lying. No, it doesn’t surprise me. Not a bit. That’s part of the problem.
“Have I ever told you that I hate you?”
“Yeah, just recently. Thanks for repeating it. You like her, don’t you?”
I look at him, taken aback. “What does that have to do with this?”
“I mean, youreallylike her,” he clarifies.
“That isn’t—”
“That means you do. Why is it so hard for you to accept her help?”
“Because... I don’t know. I don’t want to use her.”
“You aren’t. Not if she’s offering her help.”
“It’s her song.”
“You wrote it together. She said so herself. Your dumb excuses don’t work anymore, East. What’s your damn problem?”
If I only knew.
“Honestly, tell me. Because you must have a problem if you let your false pride get in the way of a chance that affects not only you but the rest of us. We’re all in this together, have you forgotten? Sure, you write most of the songs, but we’re a band. We’re brothers. If you wrote a song with Rayne and she wants us to record it, then it’s not only about you.”
My guilty conscience hits me like a punch in the gut. “See? I really am an asshole. A totally selfish one, it turns out.”
“You’re not selfish. I think you’re scared. You just have to tell mewhat you’re scared of. Then I can—” Beck stops as the front door slams shut and we hear quiet voices from the hall.
“Easton, where are you? There’s someone here to see you,” Jax yells so loudly that our neighbors across the street can probably hear him. He must think I’m upstairs in my room.
“Kitchen!” Beck calls back. “And don’t yell like that. We can hear you loud and clear.”
“How should I know where you are?” Jax grumbles as he comes into the kitchen. I freeze when I spot Rayne behind him. I notice she’s wearing my hat again. She didn’t give it back to me last night after I drove her to school.
“Hey, Sunshine,” Beck says with a grin, then gives me a meaningful look. She gives him a half smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, then turns to me.
“We need to talk,” she says, way too seriously.
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. My chest tightens and my palms get clammy. I nod. She’s right: We need to talk.
