Page 157
Story: The Drummer
I avert my gaze to watch my shoe scrape at the concrete landing. “I never told you because I was embarrassed, and then just kind of forgot about it,” I continue. “Once we started sitting together at lunch, that became the beginning of our friendship. But looking back, it wasn’t that. It was the backpack.”
He squints at me, his surprise becoming confusion again.
“Okay? So what’s your point?” he asks.
“Why did you do that?” I search his face.
“Do what?”
“Confront Riker. You were the new kid. He would have been your ticket to the popular crowd. You had to know that after your first hour in that school. Why did you sacrifice yourself to rescue some anonymous stranger?”
His gaze falters before he recovers with a shrug. “I don’t know. The guy seemed like a dick. I hate bullies.”
I nod. “Right. Because you’re brave and compassionate. You’d already been through hell and back by that point, but that didn’t stop you from a random act of kindness.”
I take an earnest step toward him. “That’s who you are, Luke. Not many people would have made that choice in that situation for a friend, let alone a complete stranger who would probably never know what you did for them.”
He flinches, his mouth set in a firm line.
Maybe he’s starting to understand. I know I am. Not sure why it took so damn long for us to see it.
“You’ve made a lot of mistakes in your life,” I continue. “Some were really bad ones, but your mistakes aren’t who you are. What you do with them? That’s what defines you. And there’s only one other person I know who would have made the instinctive decision you did in the hallway that day.”
I motion toward the door, my throat closing on the words. “You and Callie aren’t as different as you think. You believe she’s an angel for confronting a stranger’s demons. Well, your instinct was to do the same thing.”
When I glance back at Luke, his stunned eyes glisten in the dim fluorescent light.
He blinks at me, and I strengthen my stance.
“So don’t tell me you don’t know if you can do this,” I say, looking him in the eye. “You’ve alreadydoneit.”
I puton a brave front for the next hour of recording, but inside, there’s nothing but turmoil. We haven’t seen Luke since I tracked him down in the stairwell. Hell, he could still be there for all I know. No one else is concerned by his absence—it’s not his time yet. They’d just assume he’s relaxing and hanging out while he waits.
Only I know the truth. Only I’m carrying the weight of the risk that this whole thing could go to shit at any second. If Luke refuses to sing the vocal, this song will not happen. Full stop.
After dropping the truth bomb, I didn’t stay to see the result. I know him well enough to know he needed to be alone to process it. Now all I can do is wait with a pounding heart to find out what impact my words had.
“You okay?” Callie asks, slipping her arms around me.
All the instruments are tracked. The only thing left are vocals. Luke didn’t respond to the text that he was up, and Sweeny took off to find him while the rest of us wait in the control room.
I’m trying not to panic.
“Fine, why?”
“Fine?” She returns a skeptical look.
“Just weird to be back here, you know?”
That response goes over better.
“It’s understandable. Luke is probably nervous too.”
Understatement.
I almost confess the truth about his “nerves,” but disclosing that now feels like a violation. If Luke comes back, he wouldn’t want anyone to know how close he came to running again. If he doesn’t, the timeline of that story shouldn’t begin like this.
Jon and his assistant are in the vocal booth, making sure everything’s perfect. Eli is sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The fact that he’s here proves even our clueless bass player gets the significance of what’s about to happen.
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