Page 8 of Sing For Me

“I know we joke around a lot,” she says, ignoring me. “But I’m honestly getting worried—”

“Don’t you have class in half an hour?”

Her expression turns from worried to annoyed. “You can’t hide from me forever, you know. We live in the same apartment.”

“A decision I regret daily.”

She rolls her eyes as she gathers her books. “Please. You practically begged me and River to move in.”

I snort. “That’s an egregious rewriting of history. Pretty sure I found the place first and the two of you tagged along.”

She slings her book bag over her shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

She comes around the desk on her way out the door, stopping at my side and placing a warm hand on my shoulder. For a second, I close my eyes, letting myself relax into her soft touch. Willing myself to forget all the stressful, painful shit swirling in my head.

“I’ve got dinner plans with Alex and Everly tonight,” she says. “But I can stay home if you feel like company.”

I force a decently sincere smile on my face and turn to her. “I’m fine, Rosie. Probably gonna work late. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

She stares down at me, ice-blue eyes filled with concern, looking like she’s uncertain about leaving. Finally, she squeezes my shoulder. “Have a good afternoon. Try to relax a little.”

I chuckle. “You know me, Rosie. Mr. Cool.”

She gives me one more shoulder squeeze and then goes, leaving me alone in the office with way too much work to do and not a lot of motivation.

Luckily, my cell rings a moment later, and I’m so relieved at the distraction that I pull it out and accept the call without looking at the screen.

“Will?” my little brother’s voice comes through the line.

“Hey, Si,” I answer, settling back in my chair. “How’s it going, man?”

Silas makes a huffing noise. “Same shit. Mom and Dad are on my case. CeCe is pissing me off. Just another day at casa de Ransome.”

“I don’t buy it. My baby sister is a perfect angel. What could she possibly be doing to piss you off?”

He snorts. “You only say that because you don’t have to live with her. I swear to God, Will. She’s insufferable. And she’s so spoiled. She never gets in trouble.”

Knowing he could bitch about our sister for an hour if I let him, I nudge the conversation. “What’s this about Mom and Dad being on your case?”

He sighs, and sounds an awfully lot more sheepish when he responds. “I may, uh, be failing geometry.”

I wince. Nothing bothers our mother more than one of us not taking our education seriously. “Are you having trouble with the material?”

“Nah. Just don’t feel like dealing with it, you know?”

“Sure. School sucks, I get that. But you also don’t want to deal with failing, Si. They’ll just make you repeat the class. You don’t want to spend your summer back in school.”

“I don’t see why I even have to be in school now,” he mutters, sounding every bit the sullen sixteen-year-old. “It’s not like I’m going to college.”

“You could,” I point out. “You’re smart enough.”

“You don’t need to go to college to make music, Will,” he mutters, and I feel something tighten in my stomach.

My little brother is determined to follow in the family footsteps and make a career out of music. And that’s a topic that I have zero desire to discuss with him.

“Wyatt went to college,” I say, attempting to keep my voice even as my stomach gives another uncomfortable clench. Our older brother spent four years at a prestigious music conservatory before starting his career as a concert pianist.

But we both know that’s not the career Silas is aiming for.