Page 133 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
Miranda’s gaze shifts between us, and I see her mind working. She pauses, something clearly occurring to her, and her eyes narrow slightly as she looks at me. “I remember the glowing report about photography on the transcript from your old school.”
My breath catches. She remembers that?
“I had a good read over every subject, Alice, before I filed everything away.”
Files. My mind flashes back to Miranda’s office upstairs. Three filing cabinets, one marked: ‘Personal.’
Miranda taps her phone against her palm, thinking. As the silence stretches, Ryder’s tension builds beside me.
“Fine,” Miranda says with a huff.
“Fine?” I echo.
“You can come tonight as the photographer.” She holds up a hand before either of us can react. “On the condition that you won’t have a breakdown.”
I sit back, frowning. “Breakdown?”
“Alice, it’s no secret your transition here has been rockier than the mountains outside this window,” Miranda says, gesturing to the cold, overcast landscape outside. “Tonight is a very important step in both mine and Ryder’s careers. We can’t have it be overshadowed by a girl making a scene in the middle of the venue.”
Icy prickles line my skin, and I shake my head. “I won’t make a scene.”
Miranda gives me more eye contact than I can handle. “I mean it, Alice. Don’t say yes to this unless you can handle it.”
I swallow a wadded lump of fear. “I can handle it.”
Miranda shrugs, opens her planner, and makes a quick note. “Fine. Be ready by five-thirty to leave the house.”
When I reply, “Okay,” Miranda’s already marching her high heels out of the kitchen like she has a million to-do list items to check off.
The weighted pressure she leaves behind feels enormous. I stare at my half-eaten sandwich, my appetite completely gone. My hands are trembling, and I press them flat against the counter to steady them.
“You okay?” Ryder asks quietly.
I nod tentatively. “I think so.”
“Sorry if I overstepped. It’s just, before… upstairs. You said you didn’t want to stop taking photos. You seemed to light up.”
“I did.” I look at him, finding something solid to anchor to in his dark eyes. “I want to do this. I want to try.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I take a shaky breath. “Besides, someone needs to make you look good.”
He laughs, the sound breaking some of the tension. “Pretty tall order.”
“I’m up for the challenge.” I slide my hand over his. “Besides, with you around, taking photos doesn’t seem as scary anymore.”
“That’s good.” His pinky rubs against mine. “Because I need you around. My muse. The thought of playing music in front of a crowd seems less scary if you’ll be right there.”
“Hey, you’re a rockstar, remember?” I lean into him. “How can some random people scare you? The stage is yours to own.”
Ryder mumbles a laugh. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I might be terrible.”
“You won’t be.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “You’re going to be amazing.”
The certainty in his voice makes my chest ache. “How do you know?”
