They Mocked Me Backstage, Then I Took Her Lead RoleChapter 2

Brooke looks at Connor.

"Did you know we had a secret rock star?"

He doesn't laugh, but he doesn't tell her to stop.

"I'm not joking," I say.

"That's what makes it sad."

Maya drops the wet paper towels into the trash.

"Brooke."

"No, seriously." Brooke points toward the stage. "We're getting humiliated out there, and she's making up stories."

"I answered your question."

"You know what? Leave."

I look at her.

"This is our greenroom. Go sit in the audience if all you want to do is criticize."

"I'm on the roster."

"As an alternate."

"Still on it."

She moves closer.

I have enough time to see her hands lift.

Not enough to step away.

She shoves my shoulders.

I stumble backward, catching myself against the doorframe. The metal latch digs into my lower back.

"Brooke!" Maya says.

Connor moves between us.

For one stupid second, I think he's coming to check on me.

Instead, he faces me.

"Don't."

I take my hand away from my back.

"Don't what?"

"Make this physical."

I stare at him.

"She pushed me."

"I saw."

"And you're warning me?"

"She has to go back onstage. Can we please not do this right now?"

Behind him, Brooke folds her arms across her chest.

I wait for him to turn around.

To tell her she shouldn't have touched me.

To ask if I'm okay.

He doesn't.

I'm suddenly very calm.

"We're done."

Connor blinks.

"What?"

"I'm breaking up with you."

Somewhere outside the room, a guitar starts playing scales.

He lowers his voice.

"Because I'm trying to keep everyone calm?"

"No."

"Then because I defended Brooke?"

"You always defend Brooke."

"She's my friend."

"She's supposed to be mine, too."

Brooke makes a disgusted sound.

"God, Grace. This is not the time to be jealous."

I keep looking at Connor.

"You remembered her audition before she did. You missed my birthday dinner because rehearsal ran late."

"You told me it was fine."

"I told you I didn't want to argue over the phone on my birthday."

"That was months ago."

"Yes."

"And now you're bringing it up?"

"My parents came to visit, and you couldn't spare an hour. Hers came for a weekend, and you booked dinner."

Brooke steps beside him.

"That is completely different."

"Then let him explain."

Connor opens his mouth.

Nothing comes out.

I look down at the thin silver bracelet on my wrist.

He gave it to me last Christmas.

I spent half the evening worrying that it was too tight.

He spent the other half answering Brooke's texts.

I work the clasp loose.

Connor notices.

"Grace."

I place it on the table beside his guitar case.

Brooke's voice softens in the way I hate most.

"You're making a huge mistake. Connor's never cared about appearances. Do you know how hard that is to find?"

My fingers go still on the table.

"Whose appearance?"

"Oh, come on."

"Say it."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes," I say. "I do."

Connor rubs his forehead.

"Can we stop putting words in each other's mouths?"

"She didn't need my help."

"Grace, please."

He sounds tired of me.

That used to make me apologize.

A stagehand appears in the doorway.

"Five minutes. I need the soloists ready."

Brooke turns immediately.

"I'm coming."

Connor picks up the bracelet.

"We'll talk after the competition."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Just give me a few hours."

He reaches toward my wrist.

I move it out of his way.

Brooke catches his sleeve.

"Let her go. We need to focus."

His hand drops.

He looks at me once more.

"Afterward."

"No," I say. "You don't have to agree for it to be over."

He stands there until Brooke pulls him into the hallway.

Evan follows them.

Maya stays.

"Are you hurt?"

"A little."

"Do you want to leave?"

I look at the roster taped beside the door.

My name is there.

Grace Miller. Keys. Vocals. Alternate.

"I'm staying."

She nods.

"Okay."

We walk back toward the stage together.