Page 168 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
Miranda smiles. “If that’s okay.”
I grin, nodding. “Yeah, that would be okay.”
Miranda lifts a hand and swipes at the fallen tears on my cheeks. “You know, you could stay on as my freelance photographer. We already know you have a terrific effect on Ryder when he performs. Could be a win-win for all of us.”
At that, the moment of happiness diminishes. “No, I can’t. Ryder and I… Things have gone badly.”
“Maybe you fought about the essay, but you can always…”
“It wasn’t about the essay,” I blurt. “I blamed him for something. Something that was actually your fault.”
Miranda flinches. “My fault?”
“The way you spoke to Jasper Whitmore on Saturday night,” I start, feeling dread creep up my spine. “You humiliated him, and he wanted revenge. He snooped into my life, and when it came out at school, I blamed Ryder for it.”
“Well, we can just tell Ryder that—“
“He knows it was Jasper,” I cut her off. “It doesn’t matter. He didn’t care. Whatever we had, it’s over.”
Miranda looks unconvinced. “Do you know how many times Ryder and I have argued? If arguing with Mr. Hothead meant the end of things, I wouldn’t be his manager anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. He needs you. He doesn’t need me.”
“Yes, he does.” Miranda sniggers, gesturing to her office. “We have photographic proof he needs you.”
“He was a talented musician before he met me.”
“Where does this leave the essay? Are you completely done with him?”
I blow out a hard breath. “I can help him with it tomorrow morning. But I don’t know if he is willing to work with me.”
“I can get him in the room with you.”
“Maybe I should just write the essay for him. It’d be easier.”
“I’ll make sure he studies before we leave for rehearsal tomorrow,” Miranda says purposefully. “Hopefully, you two can patch things up.”
I roll my eyes. “You just want me around so his nerves don’t ruin the showcase.”
She smiles. “And maybe you can be there to take some photos? I have another lanyard with your name on it.”
“Good lord. You never stop scheming, do you?”
Miranda shrugs. “At least I’m being upfront about it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Somehow, I find myself smiling. “At least we can tell Mrs. Rodriguez tomorrow that our communication is improving.”
“See? There are silver linings to everything.”
Thirty
AsIstepontothe staircase on Thursday morning, Ryder’s voice carries through the downstairs hallway. His parents’ voices weave around it, and I slow at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to interrupt.
“—just saying, you’ve got shadows under your eyes," Mrs. Hamilton is saying.
“Mom.”
“I’m allowed to observe. I’m your mother.”
