Page 13 of One More Made Up Love Song (Midnight Rush #2)

I cross my arms, letting out a frustrated huff. I hate the way his parents treat him. Like he’s barely an afterthought.

He looks up and chuckles. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I just hate it for you,” I say. “It’s not fair that they’re so entirely indifferent.”

“I’ll take indifference over disdain,” he says.

“Trust me. It could be so much worse.” He pulls his fries out of the food bag and shoves a few in his mouth.

After a show, he tends to eat like he’s starving, but then, even a meal like this probably doesn’t come close to making up for the calories he burned while performing.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks around another bite of food. “You seem like something else is bothering you.”

“Yeah,” I say, but Freddie doesn’t look convinced. “Just thinking about my sister.”

“You’re worried about her.” He says this like a statement, not a question, and I lean back into my chair, breathing out a sigh.

“Let’s talk about something else,” I say.

“We can talk about whatever you want.” He offers me a cheese curd. “But you’ll feel better if you tell me what’s on your mind.”

I look at Freddie, his green eyes wide and sincere, and for a split second I imagine telling him the truth. Five words.

I’m in love with you.

I hold my breath until my logical mind squashes the impulse, the words dissolving on my tongue before I can say them out loud. As liberating as it would be to own that particular truth, there’s too much at stake. And I’m too certain the feeling isn’t mutual .

So I settle on a different truth—one that’s been occupying almost as much of my bandwidth as my unrequited feelings.

“When I was little, we used to go to Dollywood every summer.” I tug a throw pillow out from behind me and pull it to my chest, wrapping my arms around it like it’s some sort of shield.

“One year, I was maybe eleven or twelve—I’m not sure exactly how old—but I remember that year because Carina was finally tall enough to ride this one specific roller coaster.

She was so excited, and she kept bouncing back and forth between me and Daphne, talking nonstop about who would sit next to her and how long the wait would be and if it would be scary when the ride went upside down. ”

“Was it?” Freddie asks. He takes a long drink of his water. “Did you like roller coasters?”

“Loved them,” I say. “Daphne only tolerated them, but she put on a brave face for Carina, because she knew if she wasn’t excited, Carina might lose her nerve, and then she’d be mad at herself for chickening out.”

“Sounds like a good big sister,” Freddie says.

A dull pain stretches across my ribs. “The very best.”

Freddie holds my gaze for a long moment. “So how was it? Did Carina end up liking it?”

“That’s the thing,” I say. “We waited in line for almost an hour, but then a thunderstorm popped up and they shut it down right before we reached the front of the line.”

“No,” Freddie says.

“Carina was furious—way more upset than she should have been—but I think she’d been psyching herself up the whole time, so the disappointment just hit differently. Anyway, she totally lost it and took off running across the park. ”

“By herself?”

I nod. “Dad tried to catch her, but then Daphne stopped him and was like, ‘Dad, I’ve got this,’ and she took off after her.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them came back, walking hand in hand.

Carina had a frozen lemonade some park employee had given them for free, and she was totally fine.

Happy. Chill. Like nothing had ever happened. ”

Freddie chuckles. “What did Daphne say to her?”

I shrug. “I didn’t even think to ask. Because stuff like that happened all the time. That’s the point. Daphne always knew the right thing to say. She always knew exactly how to solve every problem.” I tilt my head to meet Freddie’s gaze. “I wish I could ask her what to do about Carina now.”

Freddie nods, his green eyes full of understanding. “It really sucks that you can’t.”

My heart squeezes as warmth spreads across my chest.

It was the exact right thing to say. I have grieved and processed and mourned the loss of my older sister over and over again, struggled and wrestled my way to a place where I can remember her with gratitude instead of sadness, feel joy for having known her instead of just the crippling weight of her loss.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that I have to do life without her.

And it feels really good to hear someone say that out loud.

“It does suck,” I agree. “So, so much.”

Freddie is quiet for a beat before he says, “The thing is though, maybe the whole problem-solving thing is something you and Daphne had in common because I don’t know anyone who solves problems like you do.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But not when it comes to Carina.”

“No? Come on.” He leans forward and nudges my knee with the side of his hand. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a great sister.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I say.

“But things are more complicated this time.” I pull out my phone and find the picture I screenshotted from Carina’s Instagram account.

“I’m not sure where Carina is, but I did figure out who she’s with.

” I hand him the phone. “And you aren’t going to like it. ”