Wyatt was right. Maybe I should adopt his attitude.
I knew the I Hate Wyatt Nash Club was only fictional, but if it were real, I had a feeling his actions today might make me reconsider my membership. I frowned, wondering if maybe I should come up with some sort of rules for my partnership with Wyatt. Lately, I couldn’t remember whether I was supposed to hate him or not.
It was pretty hard to dislike him after this morning. He’d showed up like a white knight, offering rides to school and hot beverages. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t known I didn’t like coffee. Perhaps if I’d been real from the beginning, he would’ve brought me tea.
And I couldn’t ignore how sweet he’d been with Robby—indulging in clown waffles and answering Robby’s endless questions while we waited for the school bus.
Maybe everyone was wrong about Wyatt.
I mean, the boy did my dishes for heaven’s sake!
He might have a reputation, but I knew better than most that the rumors my classmates spread weren’t always true.
According to them I was just a prudish band geek that didn’t warrant a second look.
That wasn’t true.
I was talented, bright, funny, and kind. I knew someday I’d grow into the woman I wanted to be. Maybe sooner than expected with a friend like Wyatt. I kind of liked the confidence his lingering words filled me with.
There was an extra pep in my step as I walked to my next class.
Maybe hanging out with Wyatt Nash would be good for me.
Chapter Twenty
Wyatt
“What’s this I hear about you and Layne Hall?” Cooper asked the moment I joined the rest of the baseball team at my usual lunch table.
“What about her?” I asked.
“You’re not seriously into her, right?”
“Why? You have your eye on her, Coop?” Jake, another of my old teammates chimed in, making the whole table laugh.
Cooper ignored the comment, focused on me. “I’m just looking out for you, bro. You know her deal, right?”
I took a sip of my drink, stalling. I didn’t know her deal and though I desperately wanted to, I didn’t want to appear too eager, or these idiots would never let me live it down.
“He’s right.” Jake added. “Dating her is like social suicide, dude.”
“Yeah,” Cooper agreed. “She’s a total prude. She might even bat for the other team, if you know what I mean.”
I resisted rolling my eyes, because everyone always knew what Cooper meant. He was about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. “And you know this how?” I asked.
“Because Coop asked her to the fifth-grade dance and she said no,” Jake replied, snorting with laughter.
“Shut up, Jake!” Cooper snapped, punching Jake in the arm.
But Jake’s laughter couldn’t be silenced. “Then he tried to kiss her and she started crying!”
“Whatever,” Cooper muttered. “I dodged a bullet. She’s a total loser. Even her dad bailed. That says it all.”
My eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Jake answered. “It was some big scandal. He took all their money and ran off with his secretary or something.”
“I see,” I said, taking a bite of my lunch, considering the new information.
“We’re just looking out for you,” Cooper said again.
I gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, but you don’t need to worry. I’m just having a bit of fun.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Layne
Maybe I’d reconsidered disbanding the I Hate Wyatt Nash Club too quickly.
Currently, I was sitting in the practice room, scowling at Wyatt as he ripped my song apart. And the worst part was, he was using my guitar to do it. Actually, no, the worst part was that he was right!
The changes he made really did sound great, but I couldn’t admit that. Not just because it hurt my pride, but because I was the songwriter. The whole point of the competition was to enter two original songs that I wrote, not Wyatt.
When he finally finished running through the song, I took my guitar back.
“So, what do you think?” Wyatt asked.
“I think we should stick to our roles.”
His eyebrows quirked up to match his smirk. “You didn’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that. I just want to be able to put my name on it, and I can’t do that if you completely rewrite my song.”
“I didn’t rewrite it,” he argued. “Did you listen to the track I sent you? If we do it that way really only the bridge changed, and I think it helps showcase the genius of the piece.”
I sighed, trying to find the willpower to argue with him when he was complimenting me. Not to