Page 125 of Dirty Like Brody
“Fine. I’ll talk.” She turned to face me. “I feel blindsided by Seth being asked back into the band. It makes me feel like everything’s out of my control and itscaresme.”
“Why?”
“I should have a say,” she said. “The band wants me writing songs with them, don’t I get a say on the newlineup?”
“Frankly, no,” I told her, getting out of bed and pulling on my underwear. “You’ve disappeared on them again, haven’t been to a session in over a week. You can’t have it both ways,Jessa.”
She got out of bed, discarding her ripped panties, and pulled on some new ones from the drawer she’d been using in my dresser. Officially, she was still staying at Jesse’s, wouldn’t bring all her things over here, but she’d slept here everynight.
She threw me a hurt look. “So you’re choosing Seth over me, isthatit?”
“Are you giving me anultimatum?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe.”
“Why does it have to be one or the other?” I stared at her a long, long moment, waiting for herreply.
Shestaredback.
And in that loaded silence, I felt the rage rising up, jagged and hot. Wasn’t gonna unleash it on her, so I turned, picked up the first thing I saw—a glass of water on the bedside table—and smashed it against the wall behind me. She jumped, startled. “What thehellis going on between youandhim?”
“Nothing,”shesaid.
“Then whatwenton between you and him? I thought the two of you were tight, and then you up anddisappeared.”
“That’s not whathappened.”
“For fuck’s sake,Jessa—”
“It wasn’t myfault!”
“How was it not your fault? Youleftus.”
“Stopsayingthat!”
“Then tell me whathappened!”
“You’re going to keep throwing that in my face forever, aren’t you? I. Left. I know! It was the biggest mistake I ever made, and you’re never going to letitgo.”
“No,” I said, calming myself the fuck down. “I just want to understand.” I took a few steps toward her, softening. “Why the fuck are you fighting this? You say the word, and you’ve got your shot with the band. You’re in. They wanted you first. They’re only giving Seth a shot now because you turned them down, and becauseIaskedthemto.”
She blinked at me. “Youdid?”
I sighed. “The rhythm guitarist position has been a revolving fucking door for the past six years and we’re all tired of it. We need someone permanent, someone who can really bring something special to the band. Seth could be the one, but it shouldbeyou.”
“Brody.” She shook her head. “Just… don’t start thatagain,okay?”
“Why the fuck not? I can’t believe you can’t fucking see it when everyoneelsecan.”
“It, it, it. What the fuckisit?”
“It, Jessa. You haveit. That indescribable, intangible, heart-stopping thing that makes the world stop fucking turning when you walk in a room. When you open your mouth and you sing, and your heart pours out, and your words… Jesus, Jessa, your lyrics, the things you write… the way you write… you know how many people can write like that? How many musicians wish they could write like that? How many wannabe stars wish they could sound like you, or look like you? Or had half the connectionsyouhave?”
“So what? So fuckingwhat? So I’m supposed to follow some path you and my brother have decided for me, just so you can live out your dream ofmanagingme?”
“I don’t care who you get to manage you. This is not about me. This is about you, throwing all that shit away. It kills me that you’re fucking wastingitall—”
“Wasting it? How am Iwastingit?”
