Unknown: Atticus gave me this and told me you wanted to talk.
Caspian.
Leaving that bar last night after talking with Atticus, I didn’t fully believe he’d pass the number along. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, but I’m sure they get crazy fans doing shit like this all the time. I probably sounded like an obsessed groupie.
My breathing comes out fast and ragged as my heart works in overdrive. With shaky fingers, I exit out of his message, pulling up my group chat with the twins and hitting the FaceTime button.
Brynn answers, clearly in bed in the dark, but Bri doesn’t. “Row, what the hell?” she grumbles, rubbing her fist into her eye socket. “It’s the middle of the fucking night.”
Wincing, I say, “Oh, shit. Sorry. I forgot.”
“You always forget,” she deadpans. “What’s up?”
“He texted me.”
Her eyes widen. “Who? Caspian?”
I nod.
“So, you saw him last night, then?”
Shaking my head, I say, “He wasn’t at the bar when I got there, but the guitarist was. They’re best friends, I think. Anyway, I gave him my number, asked him to give it to Cas, and hoped for the best. I didn’t think he’d actually give it to him.”
“Dang.” Brynn drags a hand down her face, yawning. “What did the text say?”
“Just that Atticus gave him my number, per my request.”
“What did you say back?”
“Nothing yet. I called you straightaway.”
She laughs. “Well, respond, you dingbat.”
“B, I’m nervous.” The confession comes out as a whisper, and my face heats. “What if he shuts me down? I don’t know if I can handle flying all the way over here, only for him to reject me.”
Her features soften hearing that. “But what if he doesn’t? You can’t let the what ifs stop you from trying.”
While we were still at Black Diamond, I knew my feelings for him were growing, but it wasn’t until he left, and I was there all alone, with no way to reach him, knowing he was furious with me and most likely hated me, that I truly realized the full extent of my feelings. It feels silly to admit that, because we were only there a couple of months, but he was someone I saw almost every day for those months, and when he touched me and when he let me, for those brief moments of time, see the real him, it made it easy to get attached.
He made me feel seen.
When you grow up in the limelight with parents who are famous, and who are never home, surrounded by important people your entire life, it’s easy to feel invisible, or like you don’t matter as much as the next person. It’s easy to get lost in the sea of faces and names and statuses. It’s easy to have fake friends wanting to kiss your ass for a way in. Caspian didn’t kiss my ass—well, I mean, he did, but in a very different way—and he was never fake. Him wanting to be around me felt good because I knew it was real.
Caspian made me feel not quite as invisible, and when that was taken away, it was crushing.
“You need to respond to him, and at least try,” Brynn says, bringing me back to our conversation. You’ll regret it if you don’t, especially since you went all that way. You can’t let fear stop you, Rowan.”
I blow out a sigh that feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. “You’re right,” I groan. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“It’s all good. Let us know how it goes, but maybe be more mindful of the time,” she says with a laugh before we hang up.
Staring down at my phone like it holds all the answers, I groan, saying out loud to myself, “Just fucking text him, you chickenshit. Since when do you get nervous? You don’t, that’s right. So, fucking do it… right now.”
Me: Didn’t think he’d actually give it to you.
Me: You guys were fucking great last night.
Tension lines my shoulders and nerves swim through my veins ferociously while I wait for what seems like an eternity before the bubble pops up that lets me know he’s typing. I’m trying to picture what he’s doing and where he’s at right this moment as he stares down at his phone—probably with a bored as hell expression.
