“Save the metaphors for your cheesy lyrics,” I told her.
“They arenotcheesy.” Kaylee wrinkled her nose at me. “They’re heartfelt and inspiring.” She lifted her chin. “And who are you to talk, Mr. I’m-so-damaged, no-one-can-understand-me.”
“That’s the shit that sells,” I replied.
“So you’re Mr. Sell-out now?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you were all about the music?”
I grumbled and heaved myself off the four-poster bed.
“Is there a reason why you’re in here bugging me and not off playing video games with Finn or torturing Micah?” I asked.
“Finn’s working out,” she said. “And Micah didn’t return my texts. It was easier to hang out when he lived here,” she said dolefully.
Yeah. It had been.
I pushed away the hint of annoyance threatening to bubble to the surface. Micah was free to live wherever he wanted.
“Seriously, Kay, why are you up here?” I asked.
Her expression turned serious for once.
“We’re worried about you,” she said. “You’ve never been this down before, especially over a girl.”
“I’m fine,” I dismissed. “It’s like Finn said. I had fun, but she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
“If you’re so fine, why have you been stuck inside your bedroom for days?” she asked.
“I’m working.” I lifted the music sheets. “We’ve got to get started on the next album soon.”
Kaylee plucked the sheets from my hand.
“Hey!” I protested, grabbing at them.
She danced away quickly as she skimmed the music notes.
“Hmm, interesting.” She rubbed her chin, as if she were a detective in a crime movie. “I see. Yes, very interesting.”
“And what is it about my song that is so very interesting?” I asked, annoyed again.
“Music is the window to the soul,” she said.
“That’s eyes,” I told her.
She shrugged. “Either way, I know one thing.” She paused expectantly.
I stared at her, not willing to play her game.
“You need to go after the girl.” She held out the sheets so I could take them back.
“Is that what my song is telling you?” I snatched them from her grip before she could change her mind.
“No. How am I supposed to know what the song is about?” she replied with a shrug. “You didn’t even write the lyrics yet.”
I prayed for patience.
“You spent all night with her at the after-party,” Kaylee said.
“I was working my magic on her,” I said. “I thought maybe I’d bring her home.”
