Page 54 of Before We’re More Than Friends (When We Faced the Music #1)
Dallas
R aina and I didn’t finish our song last night, but we planned on showing it to our bandmates at our practice today.
When I came downstairs for dinner, I stopped at the sound of yelling from the kitchen. My spirits, which had been the highest they’d been in a long time, plummeted like a stone in the water. I went into the dining room to inspect the commotion, the aroma of pasta filling the air.
“You don’t have to act like this, Leah,” Dad snapped, leaning against the counter. “Every time I voice my opinion, you act like I’m hurting you.”
“Because you are,” Mom said, her voice shaking. “You make me feel bad about every choice I make.”
“You know I’m not trying to.”
“Well, you are! What happened to the guy who was there when I was just a vet student?” She sniffled. “What happened to the guy I came home to every night and couldn’t wait to—” Mom’s gaze drifted to me, who had been hiding behind the wall. “Dallas?”
Turning into a little kid, I bolted into the bathroom. I locked the door and turned on the sink to make it sound like I was actually doing something other than being a coward.
Dad pounded on the door. “Come out here.”
I didn’t answer, studying my worried expression in the mirror.
“Dallas Alexander, don’t make me open the door.”
Gosh, not the dad voice. I groaned before flushing the toilet and opening the door. “I was just taking a piss.”
Dad shook his head. “What did I say about eavesdropping on us?”
Sheesh, was he going to lecture me now ? They were arguing in the kitchen, not their bedroom. “I was just going to see if dinner was ready.”
“We usually call you down when it’s ready.”
“Gerald, stop it,” Mom demanded, appearing behind Dad. “We were fighting in the open.”
Dad faced Mom. “He doesn’t need to hear our private conversations.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t want him hearing you beat me down either, but you still do it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Stop always trying to find someone else to be upset with because you can’t control your own emotions.”
I knew I should run upstairs and pretend this wasn’t happening, drown this out with one of my playlists, but I wasn’t used to this.
Toby had been in the middle of his parents’ fights.
When I used to visit his house, we had to blast music to block out the arguing from downstairs before his dad forced us to shut it off. But right now, I was frozen in my spot.
“Leah, come on,” Dad said, using that soft tone guys used when they wanted a girl to calm down while downplaying her feelings. “You know where I’m coming from.”
“Where you’re coming from is your own selfishness.” Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “Everything has always been about what you wanted, but I followed along. And the moment I go after what I want, you suddenly become passive-aggressive.”
“That’s not true.” Dad put his hand on Mom’s shoulder.
Mom brushed his hand off. “I’ve spent my entire life putting other people first. I put my parents first. Then I met you and always put you first. Then we had the kids and always put them first. It’s always someone else before me.
” She sniffled. “You named the kids, you won’t let us get another pet, you make our budget, you always have the upper hand.
But when I make decisions, you get upset. ”
My chest hollowed, not used to Mom being this vulnerable. All she wanted was a chance to breathe after carrying our pain on her back. To be supported by the person she gave her life to.
“We’re going in circles, Leah,” Dad said, shaking his head.
“Because you’re not understanding.” Mom’s voice broke.
“I know I get frustrated. But . . .” A burning smell filled the air, and Dad’s nose wrinkled. “Leanne, the noodles!”
Mom cursed and rushed into the kitchen. After a few seconds, I heard her open the trash. When she came back out, tears were running down her cheeks. “Well, there goes dinner!”
“I can order something,” Dad offered. “It’s not too late?—”
“For me, it is!” With that, Mom stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, a lock following afterward.
Dad grunted before facing me. “What am I going to do?”
“You need to listen to her,” I said as I met his gaze. When I looked at him, I saw my physical features. The deep brown, almost black, eyes, his defined jawline, the curly hair, the six-foot-one frame. But in this moment, we were so different from each other.
I knew I couldn’t treat people I loved like that.
From the intense way he stared at me, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. I wondered if he looked into my eyes and saw half of himself.
After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about us.” He patted my shoulder. “Want me to order pizza for dinner? Or I can try to make some eggs.”
I shook my head. “I’m going to Oliver’s house.”
He glanced at the clock. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
“We’re meeting earlier today.”
“Don’t lie to me, Dallas.”
I sighed. “When you love a girl, make sure you do your best to show it.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Even when you’re upset.”
His lips curved in a small smile. “That Raina is rubbing off on you, huh?”
“Mom is your Raina. You don’t want to lose someone who makes you feel so freaking lucky to be alive. To be loved.” I cringed, knowing I sounded cheesier than heck, but I didn’t know how else to make this situation better.
“Okay.” He rubbed my hand on his shoulder. “Have fun at Oliver’s.”
I nodded before going upstairs to get ready, still unsettled. I knew I didn’t know the whole situation between Mom and Dad. Not everything was his fault—Mom could’ve done things wrong to him that I had no idea about—but I just wanted them to stop being at each other’s throats.
I didn’t want my new home to fall apart when I’d been starting to love it. I didn’t want to experience what Toby experienced, the stress he went through, how it shattered him to pieces that his parents couldn’t love each other the way they used to.
I couldn’t have the same thing happen to mine.
It didn’t take me long to realize I hadn’t escaped fighting for the evening.
When Mr. Landers opened the door for me, I nearly jumped back at his expression. For a man who always looked unbothered, it was jarring to see his jaw clenched and brows furrowed like he was about to start a fight.
“Hey,” he said. “Oliver is having a private conversation with everyone in the garage, so you might want to wait a few minutes.”
Just like last week . “Okay,” I said, anxiety stirring in my stomach as I went inside.
Mr. Landers walked down the small hallway, probably to his bedroom, and I decided I hadn’t learned my lesson for the day. I scurried into the laundry room and pressed my ear to the door, careful not to make any noise.
“Why can’t you guys just support me?” I heard Caleb shout, and it immediately brought me back to the fight with my parents. “Is it really that hard?”
“It’s not about you,” Hayden snapped. “It’s that you’re leaving us when we’re finally going somewhere.”
“We haven’t gone anywhere,” Caleb shot back. “We’ve passed one audition. One . After how many months of being together?”
“And you haven’t gotten into the school yet, but you’re still acting like you will. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that there’s more than one spot open. And I actually support you, but you won’t return it.”
“It’s not that I don’t support you,” Hayden said. “It’s that I don’t want you to leave now of all times.”
Caleb groaned. “You’re acting like I’m leaving tomorrow, not in August.”
“But you’re still leaving.” Hayden huffed. “Gosh, we’re not going anywhere with these stupid fights. ”
So these fights had been a regular occurrence. What else was happening behind the scenes? And what was this freaking place that Caleb wanted to go to in August?
“Then why do you make things all about you?” Caleb asked.
“I’m not trying to!” Hayden growled. “And you didn’t answer my question. You’re trying to make me sound like a?—”
“Can you both stop it?” Oliver snarled. “I deal with enough shouting in this house.”
“Are your parents still at each other’s throats every day?” Hayden asked, the frustration in his voice shifting to concern.
My stomach sank. Oliver’s parents were fighting, too? Mrs. Landers’ smiling face came to mind. How much pain was truly behind it?
“Let’s focus on what’s important again,” Oliver said, dodging the question. “You both need to stop treating each other like this.”
“Guys, this isn’t the time to discuss this,” Sienna said. “The girls and Dallas will be here any minute.”
“But I’m tired of this,” Caleb complained. “Why don’t any of you support me?”
“You know this isn’t about lack of support.”
“Listen to her,” Hayden said.
Caleb grunted. “Can you?—”
I opened the door, unable to take any more of this. “Hey.”
Their four heads turned toward me, eyes widening as red painted their faces. They were all standing together, fists and jaws clenched.
“H-hey,” Hayden said, his eyes not meeting mine. “We were just talking?—”
“Yeah, I heard.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Am I allowed to know what’s going on? And do Raina and Arielle know?”
“Do Raina and Arielle know what? ”
I snapped my head around to see Raina and Arielle, both furrowing their brows in confusion.
“What are we missing?” Arielle asked.
“I-It’s just . . .” Hayden’s voice broke as if he was on the verge of tears. “Just having differences.”
“Forget it, dude,” Oliver said before looking at Caleb. “Going to tell them?”
“May as well.” Caleb looked over at us and put a hand on his hip. “You know the school Rory went to in New York? Apple of the Arts?”
“Who’s Rory?” I asked at the same time Raina and Arielle said, “Yeah.”
Caleb didn’t answer my question. “Fall enrollment opened last month, and I applied. I’m not going to hear whether or not I get in until mid-April, but if I do get in, I plan on going.”
“And he hasn’t even told his parents,” Hayden said.
Caleb frowned at him. “I was talking.”
“Sorry.” Hayden held his hands up. “Talk away.”