Susan put a hand on her hip. “You are such a shit liar. Something’s going on with you. It’s been going on with you for a while now. What is it, Keira?”
Keira’s eyes automatically sought the spot on the carpet where she’d seen—hallucinated—the tree.
“It’s probably because I didn’t practice enough this weekend. I mean, I spent almost that whole afternoon with Walker.”
Susan frowned. “No one slips that much from missing one weekend of practice. Not even me, and I suck. So don’t go blaming this on Walker. One of the things he likes most is your music, right?”
“Yeah,” Keira admitted. “When I told him that I’d composed a piece over the weekend, he wanted me to spend time on it. He knows how important this is to me. He knows that I’d never give it up—not for anyone. I wasn’t trying to blame him. My parents’ crap is probably stressing me out, I guess.”
Hurt was scrawled across Susan’s face. “You composed something?”
“Yes,” Keira said, her anger leaking out of her.
“And you told Walker before you told me?”
Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“It just came up,” Keira said. “I’m sure I would have told you first if . . . ”
“If Tommy hadn’t sucked up all my attention.” Susan’s lip trembled. “Okay. Not being the jealous friend. That’s amazing news. Is there anything else you haven’t told me? You know, while we’re catching up and all?” The joke was shaky. Susan’s voice was too.
Keira wanted Susan to know that she did tell her things that no one else knew. And she really wanted someone to know the truth.
“I’ve been seeing some weird things the last couple of days,” she admitted.
Susan quit fidgeting. “Like what?”
Keira shrugged. “Things that aren’t really there—just flashes of them, for a second. But hey, going crazy is probably more distracting than my parents’ fighting, right? At least I have a really good excuse for sucking at Beethoven.” She tried to laugh.
“You need to see a doctor.”
This was exactly why Keira hadn’t told her parents. She didn’t want to be dragged into their therapist’s office and picked apart thought by thought.
“Seriously.” Susan leaned in. “That’s exactly how my migraines started. I’d see things out of the corner of my eye and then they’d be gone. And then a couple of hours later, bam, headache. All you need is some medication or something.”
Keira thought about it. She had been sort of headachy, but she was pretty sure the sort of visual disturbances Susan was talking about were different than the things she’d been seeing.
“Yeah. Maybe. It’s not quite—”
“Mine always happen when the weather changes,” Susan interrupted. “Which is actually helpful, ’cause I know when to have my medicine with me. Low-pressure fronts. They’re my biggest trigger.”
God, she would love to chalk her visions up to the weather. All the strange things she’d seen played in her memory. The dark marks on Walker. The strange fruit in the kitchen, on that first day after she’d met him at Take Note. The door in the middle of the road while she was in Walker’s car. The tree in the living room, after she’d played for him.
Holy shit. It’s all happened since I met Walker. And most of that has been while I’ve been with him.
Why hadn’t she put that together before? Relief flooded through her. Now that she could see the pattern, she could imagine explanations. Like maybe her subconscious was trying to force her away from Walker and keep her focused on her goals. Or maybe she was allergic to his fabric softener. Or—
“You’re not going crazy. You know that, right?” Susan asked.
Keira’s throat was thick with sudden tears. “I don’t think I am, actually.”
“There’s a perfectly logical explanation. I totally think you’re having migraines.”
Keira was pretty sure that wasn’t the answer. Something about Walker was. All she needed was some way to prove it.
“Thanks,” she said, feeling more together than she had in days. “Now, do you want me to hack my way through this music with you, or what?”
Susan’s expression twisted. “Not really. I’m just . . . not feeling it. I really think it’s more than Tommy and everything. I don’t like the piece. Could we go to Take Note and pick out something else?”
“Sure. How about tomorrow after school? I promise we’ll go and find a piece you like.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Susan reached for her flute case. “I think I’m done with music for today, anyway.”
“We could watch a movie or something?” Keira suggested. She willed herself not to look over at her piano. She needed to sort through whatever was keeping her from playing as well as she knew she could.
“Nah. I know you’re dying to practice for real. I’m going to get a pint of ice cream, go home, and reread all the texts Tommy ever sent me.” Her lip quivered. “And then I’m going to delete every damn one of them.”