I stared at my notebook. “Um, kind of.” I looked up, expecting him to be disappointed, but his expression was neutral. “I’m sorry. You just seemed so agitated.”

“No, it’s cool.” He grabbed a couple of pens and started tapping out a rhythm on the table.

I waited for him to continue. When Jake started drumming on random surfaces, it meant he was bored, thinking, or nervous, so it was best for him to collect his thoughts at his own pace.

He put the pens down. “Do you know who Gavin Leeds is?”

The name sounded familiar. “Is he that guy from that reality show?” I vaguely remembered a runner-up on some music show getting a lot of attention when he didn’t win, and his name could have been Gavin. There were so many of those shows, though, so I couldn’t be sure.

Jake nodded. “That’s him. So far, he’s the only one Malcolm’s picked for this new project of his.”

Malcolm, I thought, cringing inside. He’s on a first-name basis with her dad.

“Anyway, Gavin’s doing some celebrity judge thing or whatever tomorrow.”

“Is that why Clover wants you to sing and stuff?”

He paused. “Kind of.”

“Kind of,” I repeated. I hoped he was planning to elaborate, so I waited.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he blurted after a minute of silence.

“What?” Whatever I was expecting to hear, that definitely wasn’t it.

“Gavin’s playing this song tomorrow night,” he said, “but I want you to hear it the way I wrote it.”

“Why? Did he totally ruin it?”

Jake lowered his gaze before he looked back up at me. “I just want you to hear it.”

The request itself wasn’t cryptic; I was usually one of the first people to hear just about everything he’d ever written. But he’d never been so earnest in wanting me to hear a new song. It almost worried me.

I shut down my laptop and shoved everything into my backpack, and then I followed him to the apartment above the garage. I stayed by the door, unsure of what he was doing. No, I knew what he was doing; I just didn’t know why. Why was it suddenly so important for me to hear his newest song when he’d kept it private for the past few weeks?

Jake picked up his acoustic guitar, sat on a little stool, and plucked each string and fiddled with the tuners. He glanced at me. “You can sit down,” he said, nodding to the small couch in the corner.

The couch where I kissed him.

My stomach flipped as I remembered the feel of his mouth on mine.

I left my backpack by the door and sat on the edge of the love seat, ready to jump up and bolt if I got too uncomfortable. I mean, Jake was about to serenade me with a song he wrote for another girl. That was the very definition of “awkward.”

“The arrangement I did for Gavin is faster,” he explained as he checked each string’s sound. “So when you add the bass and drums, it almost sounds, I don’t know. Like some sell-out bubblegum pop.” He flashed a little grin and said, “I just want you to hear it the way I hear it in my head.”

That explained everything. Jake had pride in his work and wouldn’t want me to think he’d abandoned his artistic ideals. I nodded with what I hoped was an encouraging smile, but I didn’t want to be there. I felt duty-bound as his friend, though, to listen, if for no other reason than to assure him the following night that he had still written a great song, regardless of what that Gavin Leeds person may have done to it.

Jake played a series of chords in succession before he took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Here goes.”

He closed his eyes as he played, his fingers gliding along the fretboard while he manipulated the strings. And then he began to sing:

You were lost when you found me

but then, so was I

We rescued each other when it seemed hope had died

In your touch I found strength

In your eyes I saw light

like a beacon calling out to a ship in the night 

So whatever may come

you can let go

I’ll catch you when you fall

I’ll stay with you tonight and always

My heart and soul can’t lie

I’ll kiss your tears and hold you tight

and never say goodbye 

My dreams have been clouded

by your voice and your laughter

All I see is your smile and I know that I have to

show you how I feel about you

I need you to know

when I say forever it means I won’t let you go 

But whatever may come

you can let go

I’ll catch you when you fall

I’ll stay with you tonight and always

My heart and soul can’t lie

I’ll kiss your tears and hold you tight

and never say goodbye

I bit my lip to hold back tears while he sang, and when Jake opened his eyes to look at me, I wanted more than anything to fling myself into his arms and cover him with kisses. I restrained that urge, though, and merely smiled.

“That was amazing,” I managed to say.

“Thanks.” He got up to return his guitar to its stand and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It wasn’t easy to get the words exactly right.” He spoke slowly, as though carefully measuring what he was saying.

I looked up at him from my place on the couch. “I think it’s perfect,” I said.

I wasn’t sure how long we stared at each other in silence. It could have been a few seconds, but with the way my heart was racing, it may as well have been an hour before I found enough strength in my legs to stand. “I should get going,” I said in a voice that hardly sounded like my own.

“Talia, wait.” He put out a hand to stop me, and I paused long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I collected my backpack and hurried out the door and down the steps, not stopping until I got in my car. I pulled out of the driveway and onto the street without a backward glance, and all the while, I fought to keep the tears at bay.

Jake had my heart, there was no question about it.

That was the only explanation for the empty hole in my chest.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mom and Dr. Griffin were in the living room when I got home that afternoon. I was surprised to see them both there; Dr. Griffin usually stayed late at the clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Mom put in longer hours at the office on those days, too. But they were both home, hanging out, while a news story about some military conflict on the other side of the world played on TV.

“Looks like we’re all home early.” I dropped my backpack onto one of the living room chairs and sat in the other one.

My stepfather muted the television set as my mom said, “Hi, honey! How was your day?”

“It was okay.” I kept my gaze low and didn’t make eye contact. Eye contact invited questions, and I didn’t think I could handle any, especially not from two master interrogators.

“Anything exciting going on this weekend?” Dr. Griffin said.