father in particular—don’t seem to want to give her any room to become her own person. Hell, it took three months before they would agree to let her come to my house, and then only if my mom was here and they had proof of it with a text from her.
When we go on dates, they insist we go with another couple, as if that would in some way prevent us from having any alone time. I’ve spent half this year setting up Liam and the guys with random girls from school so Abby is allowed to go out with me.
Abby takes my hand. I love that she knows she can do that in front of my mom. “I am happy and safe,” she says. “I can’t imagine being any happier.”
I don’t miss Mom’s proud smile. “I guess I did something right,” she says. “Not that I can take all the credit. His dad must have had something to do with it.”
“I’m pretty sure it was all you, Mom.”
She hums a tune as she puts the groceries away. A Naked Whale tune. I have the coolest mom.
“Bye, Mrs. Rewey,” Abby shouts over her shoulder as we head out the door. “See you at seven.”
Abby hands me the keys. She always lets me drive—as long as her father isn’t watching.
“Don’t forget to stop by Janine’s,” she says.
“Right.”
Abby’s dad tracks her phone. Unless Mom has explicitly told him she’s home and Abby is invited to be there, Abby’s not allowed to come over. So she leaves her phone with Janine or one of her work friends. If her parents text her, the friend will get in touch with me, and Abby tells her what to text back.
I hate all the lying and sneaking around, but I’d hate not being with Abby even more.
Luckily Jake’s house, where we practice, is right up the street from another one of Abby’s friends. It’s made it quite convenient for her to watch our rehearsals without having to stash her phone somewhere.
“Hey, Abby,” Liam says when she walks in behind me.
Jake and Brandon greet her too. She’s been at more rehearsals than not. She critiques us, tells us what she thinks works and what doesn’t. She’s got a great ear for music.
After we warm up and play a few old regulars, I motion for Abby to take the mic. She hesitantly picks it up. “Is this okay?” she asks everyone.
They smile. “It’s about goddamn time,” Liam says. “I’m tired of singing all the girl parts this pansy writes.”
Her hands are shaking.
“It’s just us,” I say. “This is no big deal.”
She nods. I motion for Brandon to count it off on the drums.
My part comes first. I always look at her when I sing, but this time is different. She’s going to sing back to me. I’m as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
She closes her eyes at first, which is probably good, because when I hear her voice through the amp for the first time, I almost shed tears. Holy shit. She was made for this. I knew she was fantastic, but with the music behind her, and the way she’s projecting—my God, I know her voice shouldn’t make me love her more, but it does.
When she opens her eyes and sings the lyrics I wrote because of her, it’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. The music comes to life in a way I never imagined. I sing better. The guys play better. Everything is perfect.
The song ends, and the garage becomes almost eerily quiet.
After a moment, she breaks the silence. “So?”
Liam comes up behind her, hugging her and picking her up. “I think I love you, Abbs. I mean, why the hell haven’t you done that before? I’m pretty sure I speak for all of us when I say you have to do that again. Like all the time. Right, guys?”
Jake and Brandon don’t speak. I think they’re in shock, but they nod.
“I told you,” I say. Then I turn to Liam. “Hands off my girl, dude.”
He backs away, holding up his hands in apology. “Are we all in agreement that she becomes a member of the band?”
Abby sits on the chair in the corner, looking sad. “You realize my dad will never allow it.”
“But you come to almost every rehearsal,” Jake says.
“Yeah, but what about your gigs?” she asks. “If he found out, I’d be grounded for sure.”
I sit on the arm of the chair. “I told you I’ll talk