The Deal (Off Campus #1)(62)

"You too." I pause and, not under my breath, mutter, "Literally."

His head sharply turns toward me. "Sorry, I didn't hear that last part."

I raise my voice. "I said, literally."

Those blue eyes darken. "You're a real bitch, you know that?"

A laugh flies out. "Uh-huh. I'm the bitch."

Cass scowls at me. "What, you want me to apologize for talking to my  advisor? Because I'm not going to. We both know the duet wasn't working  out. I just had the balls to do something about it."

"You're right," I agree. "I should be thanking you. You actually did me a  huge favor." And no, I'm not being sarcastic. I mean every word.

His self-righteous expression wavers. "I did?" Then he clears his  throat. "Yes, I did. I did both of us a favor. I'm glad you're able to  recognize that." His trademark smirk resettles on his lips. "Anyway, I  need to find MJ before the performance."

He saunters off, and I head in the opposite direction in search of Jae.  All the sound checks were done this morning, so everything's pretty much  good to go. Since I'm the last junior to perform, I get to wait around  with my thumb up my ass until they call my name. Cass, of course, is  opening the junior showcase. He must've sucked someone's dick to get  that slot, because it's the best one in the line-up. That's when the  judges are still bushy-eyed and excited, eager to start judging after  sitting through the sophomore and freshman performances, which don't  qualify for scholarships. By the time the last junior hits the stage-go  me!-everyone is tired, anxious to stretch their legs or grab a smoke  before the senior performances begin.

I pop my head into a few dressing rooms looking for Jae, but he's  nowhere to be found. I hope my cellist hasn't deserted me, but if he  did … well … I don't care.





  

I miss Garrett. I can't go five seconds without thinking about him, and  the reminder that he's not in the audience tonight is like a karate chop  to the neck. My windpipe closes up, making it impossible to breathe.

"Hannah," a meek voice calls out.

I stifle a sigh. Shit. I'm so not in the mood to talk to Mary Jane right now.

But the little blonde dashes over to me before I can make my escape,  trapping me in the doorway of the dressing room I was about to enter.  "Can we talk?" she blurts out.

The sigh escapes. "I don't have time for that right now. I'm looking for Jae."

"Oh, he's in the green room on the east stage. I just saw him."

"Thanks." I start to walk off, but she blocks my path. "Hannah, please. I really need to talk to you."

Annoyance clamps around my throat. "Look, if you're trying to apologize, don't bother. Apology not accepted."

Hurt flashes in her eyes. "Please don't say that. Because I really am  sorry. I'm so, so sorry for what I did. I shouldn't have let Cass talk  me into it."

"No kidding."

"I … I just couldn't say no to him." A helpless chord wobbles her voice.  "I liked him so much, and he was so attentive and encouraging, and he  insisted that the song was meant for one performer and that he was the  only one who could do it justice." Mary Jane's entire face collapses. "I  shouldn't have gone behind your back. I shouldn't have done that to  you. I'm … so sorry."

It doesn't escape me that she's using the past tense in regards to Cass.  And although I'm a jerk for doing it, I can't help but laugh. "He  dumped you, didn't he?"

She avoids my eyes, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Right after he got the solo."

I don't pity a lot of people. I mean, sympathy? I hand that out freely. Pity is reserved for someone I truly feel sorry for.

I pity Mary Jane.

"Should I bother saying I told you so?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No. I know you were right. And I know I was  stupid. I wanted to believe that someone like him was actually  interested in someone like me. I wanted it to be true so badly that I  screwed up my friendship with you."

"We're not friends, MJ." I know I'm being harsh, but I guess my tact  filter broke at the same time my heart did because I don't bother  softening my tone or censoring my words. "I would never screw over a  friend like that. Especially over a guy."

"Please … " She gulps. "Can't we just start over? I'm so sorry."

"I know you are." I offer a sad smile. "Look, I'm sure eventually I'll  be able to talk to you without thinking about all this shit, maybe even  trust you again, but I'm not there yet."

"I get it," she says weakly.

"I really need to find Jae." I force another smile. "I'm sure Cass will  do a great job with your song, MJ. He might be an asshole, but he's a  damn good vocalist."

I dart off before she can respond.

I track down Jae and we hang out backstage until the show starts. After  weeks of non-stop rehearsing, we've become friends, though Jae is still  as shy as ever and afraid of his own shadow. But he's only a freshman,  so I'm hoping he comes out of his shell once he adapts to college life.

The freshman and sophomores are up first. Jae and I stand in the wings,  stage left, watching as performer after performer takes the stage, but I  have trouble concentrating on what I'm hearing and seeing.

I'm not in the mood to sing tonight. All I can think about is Garrett,  and the agony in his eyes when I broke up with him, the slump of his  shoulders when he left my dorm.

I have to remind myself that I did it for him, so that he can stay at  Briar and play the game he loves without having to worry about money. If  I had told him about his father's threats, Garrett would have chosen  our relationship over his future, but I don't want him to work  full-time, damn it. I don't want him to drop out, or quit hockey, or  stress about making rent or car payments. I want him to go to the pros  and show everyone how talented he is. Prove to the world that he's on  the ice because he belongs there, and not because his father got him  there.

I want him to be happy.

Even if that means I have to be miserable.

There's a short intermission after the last sophomore performs, and  backstage is hit with pandemonium again. Jae and I are nearly knocked  off our feet as a never-ending stream of robe-clad students pour onto  the stage. I realize they're the members of Cass's choir.





  

"That could've been us." I grin at Jae as we watch the choir get in position on the dark stage. "Cass's army of minions."

His lips twitch. "I think we dodged a bullet."

"Me too."

When the show starts up again, this time I'm giving it my full  attention, because the prodigy that is Cassidy Donovan has graced the  stage. As the pianist plays the opening chords of MJ's song, I  experience a twinge of jealousy. Damn, it's such a great song. I bite my  lip, worried that my simple little ballad falls short compared to Mary  Jane's beautiful composition.

I can't lie. Cass sings the hell out of the song. Every note, every run,  every frickin' pause, is absolute perfection. He looks great out there,  sounds even better, and when the choir joins in and goes all Sister-Act  on the place, the performance kicks into a whole new gear.

There's only one thing missing-emotion. When MJ first played the song  for me, I felt it. I felt her connection to the lyrics and the pain  behind them. Tonight, I feel nothing, though I'm not sure if that's  because of a failure on Cass's part, or if letting Garrett go robbed me  of the ability to feel emotions.

But I sure as hell am feeling something when I settle behind the piano  thirty minutes later. As the haunting strains of Jae's cello fill the  stage, it's like a dam breaks inside me. Garrett is the first person I  sang this song to, back when it was rough and choppy and nowhere close  to polished. And Garrett is the one who listened to me rehearse it and  hone it and perfect it.

When I open my mouth and start to sing, I'm singing it for Garrett. I'm  transported to that peaceful place, my happy little bubble where nothing  bad ever happens. Where girls don't get raped and sex isn't hard and  people don't break up because abusive assholes force them to. My fingers  tremble on the ivory keys and my heart squeezes with every breath I  take, every word I sing.

When I'm done, silence crashes over the auditorium.

And then I get a standing ovation.

I rise to my feet, and only because Jae walks over and forces me to so  we can take a bow. The spotlight blinds me and the cheers deafen me. I  know Allie and Stella and Meg are out there somewhere, on their feet and  screaming their lungs out, but I can't see their faces. Contrary to  what movies and television shows lead you to believe, it's impossible to  make eye contact with a face in the crowd when a blast of light is  hitting you in the eyes.

Jae and I leave the stage and head for the wings, and someone instantly  swallows me in a bear hug. It's Dexter, and his smile takes up his  entire face as he congratulates me.

"Those better be happy tears!" he says.

I touch my cheek, surprised to feel moisture there. I hadn't even realized I was crying.