“We walking or driving?” I ask no one in particular.
“Walking,” Dallas answers. “Gavin’s kit is already there and the place is crowded enough even though it’s still early. If we leave now, we probably won’t have a spot left to park when we get back.”
I let them walk a few steps ahead of me, concentrating on keeping my eyes away from Gavin.
I need so very little to exist. Air. Water. Oz. Music. And for my heart to just beat. Just keep beating.
Just keep beating.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Walk, Dixie Leigh. Focus.
But it’s hard. The concrete beneath my feet is quicksand and my blood is syrupy-thick and threatening to smother my poor heart.
He’s hurting. I can feel it. I don’t know if it’s because of Afton, or our dinner date, or something that has absolutely nothing to do with me. But his shoulders are slumped and the air of nonchalance he wears so effortlessly appears heavy on his back. His hands are in his pockets and his head is down. Something is wrong. Maybe he’s hungover, or maybe he’s angry. Maybe his mom called and asked for money for some bullshit that he knows is code for drugs. Maybe Ginger was so good in bed she kept him up all night and he’s exhausted.
Whatever the cause, when Gavin’s heart and soul are injured, it weighs on mine all the same.
I don’t know when I became this pathetic mess so completely codependent on the happiness of someone who has told me in no uncertain terms that he will never cross the friendship line with me, but here I am. All alone on the in-love side.
We reach the street where the warehouse is and Dallas and Gavin jog across the empty intersection. My legs are heavy as I follow.
That year I spent attempting to become a classically trained violinist headed straight for an orchestra pit?
It wasn’t just the music that didn’t do it for me. It was being away from my family and from Gavin.
Away from Gavin’s warmth and that damn dimpled smile, from my brother’s understanding and his quiet laughter, without Papa’s silent strength and constant encouragement, I began to change. Like a flower cast out into the darkness, I withered day by day, withdrawing into myself and into the girl I likely would’ve become if Gavin Garrison hadn’t wandered up onto my grandparents’ porch the day of my parents’ funeral.
Everyone thought I was shy, and a few thought I was some sort of snob who believed herself to be above them. Nothing could have been further from the truth. When end-of-the-semester tryouts came, I made first chair without having any of the expensive schooling or training the rest of them did. No one was more surprised than me, but it didn’t go over well.
When Dallas called to tell me about Papa’s heart attack, I didn’t hesitate. I took incompletes on my finals and hopped the first bus home. The scare with Papa reminded me how short life really is and by the time we got to bring him home from the hospital, I was ready to sprint to Gavin’s house and tell him that I loved him and couldn’t be away from him for a single second.
Dallas had taken all of that away with a few words.
Once we’d gotten our grandfather settled into bed that first night, my brother had stopped me in the kitchen. I told him that I’d spoken with my student advisor and since it was a family medical emergency and there were only a few weeks left in the semester, they’d hold my spot until fall and let me make up my exams.