I sneak up to my bedroom and jot some of my thoughts about Lyric into a notebook. It’s something I started doing six months ago when my therapist suggested I find a way to clear out my head. I think that he was aiming more along the lines of a journal, but the pages are filled with song lyrics than my inner thoughts and desires.
Tucking the notebook back into the dresser drawer, I grab my guitar and jog down the stairs. Lila is filling up a pot under the faucet when I enter the kitchen, and fresh vegetables and seasonings cover the counters. She’s obviously planning a big meal, so now I feel guilt-ridden about going to the party.
“I’m going to band practice,” I tell her as she shuts the water off. “It’s still okay if I take the car, right?” I’ve been a little offish since I overheard the conversation between her and Ethan. I’m not sure why, but it feels like they’re keeping something from me about myself or my brother and sister.
“Do you know what time you’re going to be back? I want to make sure I have dessert ready and everyone settled down for movie time.”
“About that …” I shift my guitar case into my other hand. “I was kind of wondering if maybe I could go to a party after band practice.”
She carries the pan full of water to the stove. “Is it the one Lyric went to with that William guy?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Micha mentioned something about it just a few minutes ago.” She switches the heat up on the stove. “He wanted to know if you were going. I think he’s not handling this whole Lyric dating thing very well and wanted you to check up on her.”
“So, is it okay if I go?” I ask, opening the fridge to grab another soda. “I mean, I can come home if you want me to. In fact, maybe I should. I promised you guys a movie night.”
She sighs as she rounds the counter toward me. “Ayden, you don’t need to please us all the time.” She circles her arms around me as I’m pushing the fridge door shut. “Go to the party.”
I hold my breath and awkwardly pat her back, my grip on the soda can nearly crushing the metal. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She pulls back, retrieves the car keys from her pocket, and drops them into my palm. “Just do me a favor. When you get there, check on Lyric, and then text me so Micha will stop sending me texts.”
“Okay, that I can do.” I enfold my fingers around the keys. “But can I ask you one more thing?”
“Of course, sweetie. You can ask me anything. You know that.”
I wasn’t planning on asking her today, but after the tattoo thing brought up unwanted memories, I need to know for my own sanity. “I was just wondering if you found anything out about my brother yet? I know you said we’d check back when he was eighteen, and now he is, so …” I clutch the handle of my guitar case as her skin pales.
“Oh, Ayden.” She embraces me so tightly the air gets ripped from my lungs. “I’m sorry … I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just couldn’t figure out how. I guess he ran away from the last foster home he was at, which was over a year ago. No one’s seen or heard from him since.”
My fingers ball into fists, the sharp edges of the keys slicing into my skin. I want to grasp onto her. Cry. But I can’t do that—can’t let go in that kind of way—so I pull back.
“Okay, thanks for trying.” I start for the door, trying not to hyperventilate.
“Ayden, are you going to be okay?” she calls after me.
“Not really.” The truth slips from my lips, but before she can utter anything else, I’m out the door.
***
Two hours later, I’m feeling a tad bit better. Playing always does that for me. It helped me to stop thinking of my brother and worrying about Lyric. Lyric also text me, saying she wants to meet up and wasn’t feeling William, which made me twistedly happy inside. I had text her back, replying okay, but she still hasn’t responded. That’s Lyric, though. She’s probably gotten sidetracked by someone.
Sage and Nolan are in the car with me as we roll up to the house in Lila’s BMW. The fancy car blends in with the rest of others parked around the house. No surprise, since the house is a freaking mansion. I mean, the home I live in is pretty fucking big, but this damn thing looks like it has three stories and a basement. I’m never going to find Lyric here.
I’ve already sent her multiple texts by the time I enter the home, but she still hasn't responded. As soon as I step foot into the foyer, I discover why. The music is blaring so loud the floors and windows are vibrating.
“Dude, this music sucks balls!” Sage yells over the noise, pulling a repulsed face at a machine pouring fog across the dance area, like we’re in a freaking club or something. He rakes his hand through his hair. “I need a fucking drink.”
As he vanishes into the crowd and the smog, Nolan stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I’m going to go find Anna. Are you going to be okay?”
“I can take care of myself, man,” I say, even though the amount of people crammed into the room is making me feel as if the walls are closing in. This is the last thing I needed tonight after finding out Lila couldn’t find anything out about my brother.
I need to find Lyric and get the hell out of here.
“But I know how you get in crowds!” Nolan has to yell in order for me to hear him over the song. “And around people!”
I wave him off. “I’ll be fine. Go get some.”
He grins then the crowd swallows him up as he dives into the insanity.
I start my search for Lyric, pushing my way through sweaty, intoxicated people, until I manage to find the enormous kitchen that could easily be as big as the entire top floor of my house. I ask if anyone has seen her, but since I usually don’t speak until I have to, it’s apparent that’s made the people I go to school with skittish around me.
Finally, I stumble across Maggie. She’s near the dance area with a cup in her hand, her attention fixed on a short, stocky guy that looks like he’s in college.
I squeeze past people, moving in her direction across the room. Everyone is dancing, and I get rubbed up on more than once. Add the smoke in the air, and I feel like I’m going to suffocate to death. I still keep going, though, telling myself to suck it up. That this isn’t the past. Just a party. Nothing more. But images of my brother and I chained to that damn wall creep up and stab me in the brain. It feels like my skull is bleeding. All I want to do is find a place to curl up and cry.