a smug look, trying desperately to get a grip on myself. “Not everything about me is in the papers, and what’s there is hardly ever true.”
Mr. Sherman claps. “Brava.”
James comes back over to me. “Guess we found the fifth member of our band.”
My heart stops, I swear it does, and my mouth gets thick. I can’t even argue because I’m going to throw up.
Chapter Twelve
The Violin
James
I put my guitar away, watching her from the corner of my eyes. Mr. Sherman waves as he leaves. “Thanks for the show, guys!”
I nod. “See ya round, Pete.”
Simon looks at his watch. “I have some studying to do for tomorrow so I have to go, but I wanted to thank you guys for letting me be part of this. It’s pretty awesome.” He smiles brightly. He’s a little too excited for my comfort level.
“See ya tomorrow, man.” I wave.
Brandon plays it cooler, but I can see the sweat stains and gleam in his eyes as he follows Simon out with a wave. “See you guys tomorrow.” I have a terrible feeling they’re going to gush.
Nick left first, going on about a hot date but staring at Lana like she was the last chip in the bag. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t see him. My little tactic at fulfilling her father’s wishes has her near comatose. She hasn’t left the chair since I made her play.
I almost feel bad for making her play, but I’ll be damned if I’m suffering through all this shit alone. Especially when I know she was a prodigy on the violin. I know plenty about Lana Webber, and I am enjoying the fact she has no clue.
She’s holding the violin, dumbfounded maybe?
“You okay?”
She shakes her head. “How?”
The grin on my lips is shit eating and cocky but I don’t care. I love the freaked-out look on her face. I feel like Houdini. I’m actually bummed I never did this before now. I could have had years of peace of mind, knowing the unshakeable Lana Webber was a front. A full front. “You sure you want to know?”
She nods blankly.
“When I was sixteen my mom got hurt at work. We didn’t have insurance so I went downtown and started playing on the streets, trying to make a little extra. It’s what us colloquial types call panhandling.”
She snaps. “I don’t want to hear some bullshit sob story. How did you find out about the violin?”
She’s a piece of work, and yet I find myself increasingly inclined to torment her like we’re friends, even if I know we’re not. Not even close. “I’m getting to it. Now shut the hell up and let a man finish his story.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t open her lips except to sigh.
“One day the owner of one of the more popular bars heard me on the street. He asked if I could fill in for his singer. Guess the guy had tonsillitis and couldn’t do the show that was planned. I was over the moon. I skipped soccer practice, which was a big deal to me, and headed for the bar.” I hate the story in some ways, and I hate that I’m sharing it with her, but at the same time I told her dad I would help her, and the good lord knows she needs tons of that. “So when I got to the bar and practiced with the band, they let me in on a secret. That night Lars Webber was coming down to hear the guitarist play. The guy was amazing so it made sense. That’s why the bar owner had been trying to find a lead singer, so the guitarist wouldn’t miss his chance.” Her eyes lift making me nod. “Yeah, your dad came to my first show. It wasn’t my show though, your dad was there for the guitarist. We played our hearts out, I was a great fit for the band. So I’m drinking my soda afterwards and your dad comes and sits down next to me. He hands me a card and says he wants to sign me. My heart was beating out of my chest.”
She scowls. “My dad tried to sign you?”
I nod again. “Yeah. Offered me the sun, the moon, and the stars. But I said no.”
Her jaw drops, with her shoulders. She’s relaxing a bit.
“I have stunned the infamous Lana Webber. Thought you were beyond being shocked?”
“So did I. Why’d you turn him down?” She shakes her head.
“Harvard. They have a sneaky program, or had