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Nell’s eyes stung as she dumped the contents of KC’s box on the ground. Guitar picks and strings, tapes, and a Tina Turner sticker fell out, but no folded-up paper.

Nell’s fingers ran through her hair and fisted large chunks into her grasp as she pulled. Stinging broke out through her scalp and ran down her spine. She’d lost KC’s song.

She had no idea how long it had been missing. She used to look at it every single day, yet days had passed since she’d seen it, and she hadn’t even realized.

Ever since she’d gotten involved with Barrett and his friends, her mind had been preoccupied. And look what happened.

What if she had accidentally left it out and her mom thought it was trash? What if it was already gone, burning in some dump somewhere?

Her breathing shallowed. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might give out at any second.

She’d lost a part of KC, the only part she could see or touch or hear anymore.

She fell to the ground, and her knees rose to her chest. She didn’t have the strength to hold herself up anymore, so she tucked herself into a tight ball, arms banded around her legs and her head resting on her knees.

Silent sobs shook through her, tears soaking into the denim of her pants.

She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes were dry. When there was nothing left, she stayed there until the light outside her window went dark and the clock ticked on for what felt like forever.

She could have easily sat there on her bedroom floor for days. The knock on her door was what stirred her out of it.

“Honey? Are you still going out to see your friend tonight?”

Nell’s head rose off her legs. Aside from the light streaming in under her bedroom door, it was pitch black. She couldn’t see her clock, but she knew that it was well past the time for her lessons with Barrett.

Her mother tapped softly on the door again, repeating her name.

Going to learn guitar without KC’s song was useless. What good was wasting her time anymore?

But the more she considered ditching Barrett and his offer of lessons, the more her chest tightened.

She could sit in here and wallow in the depths of despair, but thinking of sitting on Barrett’s couch while strumming guitar and listening to him talk about music with that passionate glimmer. . . A hint of relief flooded her at the mere idea.

“Yes,” Nell managed to answer without her voice sounding too raspy. She stood up, sighing at the ache in her legs and back.

Her mother offered her usual ride, which Nell declined, then reminded her to be home by a respectable time and handed her a new batch of chocolate chip cookies to share.

On the ride down the hill from her house, Nell continued to fight her internal battle.

She’d failed KC by losing her music. Now, she betrayed her again by running away to someone else to rid herself of the guilt.

And yet, she couldn’t stop herself. She continued down the dark road, across town, until she was back in front of Barrett’s house.

She never had to wonder if Barrett was home or not. The sound of a Def Leppard song playing through the thin walls was enough of an answer.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the screen door.

A few seconds later, and after the tumble of footsteps inside, the single porch light flicked on.

The door opened to Barrett wearing his usual mix of dark jeans and a white band shirt as he looked down at her with a tilted smile. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“Sorry,” Nell said and held out the container of cookies. “As compensation.”

Barrett stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. “You know you don’t need to apologize. But cookies are always welcome.”

Inside the living room, the guitar was in the same place as last time, leaning next to the chair. Nell felt her throat compress, but when she averted her eyes to Barrett it relaxed.

He took a bite of one of the cookies and moaned with his eyes closed. “These are amazing,” he gushed.

“They’re my mom’s specialty.”

“Tell your mom to throw in more next time.” He winked, and Nell’s heart skipped. “Oh, right. I need to grab a couple of things. I’ll be right back.”

He set the cookies down on the coffee table and left down the hallway into his bedroom. Nell took a seat in the chair and avoided looking at the guitar.

When he came out a minute later, he held two things. In his right hand was the wrinkled beginner’s guitar book. But there, right in his left, was a familiar folded-up piece of paper.

Nell’s breath caught and tensed. The blood disappeared from her body.

While she couldn’t see the lyrics and notes written on the outside, she knew by heart what they looked like on the inside.

Barrett said something, but she couldn’t hear him over the ocean in her ears.

A tingling sparked her legs to life, and she stood from her chair, her heart in her throat. Relieved tears pricked the back of her eyes. “It was here the whole time?” Her voice cracked.

Barrett’s brow furrowed as he took in her expression, then he followed her attention to KC’s song and his mouth circled. He spoke, but it was muffled in her mind. “Oh, yeah. I totally forgot to tell you. You left it here last time.”

He held it out, and Nell reached out slowly, unfolding it to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She sagged, her legs nearly giving out in relief.

It was the same. Same creases, same scratches from pencils. Exactly how it was supposed to be. Down to the unfinished lines of lyrics.

“Don’t worry, I took good care of it. I even know how to play half of it now.”

Nell’s focus pieced together. She looked back at him, eyes wide. “You do?”

Barrett nodded and walked to his guitar, picking it up. “You want to hear?”

Barrett had spent time learning KC’s song.

Now that Nell had seen him play, she knew he would do it justice.

Nell stared at the guitar, tempted. She did want to hear. She always wanted to hear that song again. Sometimes she could play it in her head, and other times she wracked her brain to remember what it sounded like.

Almost losing it had made it more distant in her memory than ever.

But then the thought of hearing the real thing festered into a gut-rolling anxiety, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it. It wouldn’t be the same on Barrett’s guitar rather than KC’s. It wouldn’t be the same voice.

She wasn’t ready to hear it.

Not yet.

She swallowed hard. “Maybe later.”

Barrett didn’t put up a fight, accepting without question. “All right. How about we pick up where we left off then?”

* * *

Nell didn’t have the passion or talent that Barrett or KC had for playing guitar, but she enjoyed it enough.

It was nice to have something to focus her mind on.

Strumming chords, finger placement, tempo, and all that was soothing to her in the same way a bubble bath was.

She could relax back into the sounds and movement.

The nice thing about this that a bubble bath didn’t have was that she had to think enough that it kept her brain from wandering off into dangerous territories.

Plus, there was Barrett.

Nell stared at him as he paused her to explain something. She pretended to pay attention to his words, but all she could do was wonder.

She squinted and studied his face, scrutinizing it for . . . something.

She hadn’t been sure what it was about Barrett that had her spilling her secrets to him one right after the other. She recognized it now.

Once he’d said it the other night, it clicked in her mind and she was certain.

She saw herself in him.

She would have never believed it until she did. She and Barrett were similar .

As much as she’d looked like she had fit in, she’d never felt like it. She was hiding vital parts of herself, fearful that people would find out and turn on her.

Barrett was the only person who knew her biggest secret. Not only had he kept it, but he’d gone out of his way to make her a part of his life—to help her embrace the person she shouldn’t love rather than condemn her.

It explained her draw to him.

It explained why she’d come here tonight despite everything else.

“. . . do it?”

Nell blinked and realized Barrett had just asked her a question. “What?”

“Am I boring you, Duncan?”

“No, no.” She shook her head clear of—ironically—him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said and leaned forward so she was forced to look at him. He had a stern but playful look on his face. “Seriously, stop saying sorry. You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Dude.”

Nell huffed a laugh and dropped her head back. “It’s habit.”

“Well, break it. It’s a bad one.” He shook his head in mock disarrangement. “What are you doing on Sunday?”

“Church, as usual.”

“Right, I almost forgot.” He leaned back. “I was going to see if you wanted to come to our next gig.”

Nell perked up. “What time is it? Church gets done at one.”

“It starts at seven, but we’ll leave Gemsburg in the morning because it takes about an hour or so to drive there.”

Nell’s eager, soft smile slowed. “It’s not at The Pour House?”

“No, in Bellevue.” Barrett grinned, leaning forward with excitement as he explained, “Dennis’s uncle owns this venue there.

It’s bigger than The Pour House—like, half venue, half bar—so it’s a chance for us to reach a bigger audience.

We’ve only been there once before, but the turnout was sick.

And you know those girls who were at The Pour House?

Well, they saw us in Bellevue last time and liked us so much that they came all the way here to see us again. ”

Nell was addicted to his contagious passion despite the disappointing sting in her chest. She leaned forward, grinning. “That’s amazing.”

“I know, right? It’s the biggest opportunity we’ve had so far. If this becomes a regular thing, chances are we could go even bigger. People might actually know about us.” Barrett leaned back and grinned at the ceiling like he saw something amazing there written in the popcorn pattern.

When Nell looked, all she saw was white.

“So, can you come?”

Nell bit her lip, sheepish. “I can’t.”

She hated how his face fell when he looked away from the ceiling. It felt like she was taking him away from whatever world he imagined up there.

“Because of your parents?” he asked.

Nell shook her head and looked at her hands. “Because of the drive.”

“Too far?”

She peered at him a long moment until it clicked.

Oh .

He didn’t know.

She didn’t know why she’d expected him to know. This whole time she’d felt this connection between them, this understanding . Figured he’d never asked why she only ever rode her bike because he already understood and was saving her the pain of having to explain it.

But she’d miscalculated.

Her heart dropped, and she couldn’t even blame him. It was her own fault, expecting him to read her mind.

She looked away and took a deep breath. The least she could do was clarify things.

“I can’t get in a car anymore. Doesn’t matter how far.

Last time I sat in one, I threw up all over the place and jumped out.

The time before that, I killed my friends.

” Barrett said nothing, so Nell focused on her fingers, picking at her nails, and continued.

“If I can’t get there by bike, I can’t go there at all.

So, unfortunately, Bellevue is off the list for me. ”

Was it too much?

Everyone knew it was a car crash. It had been all over the papers and news stations by the weekend. Three Gemsburg girls killed in horrific crash; driver alive with minor injuries.

Despite playing that night in her head repeatedly—the sights, the smells, the sounds—she never told anyone the whole story other than the details in the last seconds before she skidded.

Didn’t matter, though; everyone had come to their own conclusions about it.

But she came up with one too when she woke up in the hospital bed and was told none of her friends made it.

It was her fault. She’d killed them.

“You’d think I would’ve realized it before,” Barrett said, leaning back onto his hands. “I just thought you really loved that bike.”

Nell couldn’t help it. The corner of her lip twitched, and she bit her lip. It was so wrong to be amused, and yet his awkward chuckle tickled her, and she laughed. “Unlike you, I don’t fall for inanimate objects.”

“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?” He sounded offended, but his grin said otherwise.

“You’ve named a guitar, for God’s sake.”

“For your information, Sandra is my mistress.” Barrett reached out and stroked the neck of the instrument with an ironic sensual touch that made Nell laugh into her fingers.

“Your mistress?” Nell gasped, scandalized. “There’s another?”

“My first love was Battle Axe.”

“A lovely name.”

“Thank you.”

“Is Battle Axe still around?”

He shrugged. “Somewhere around here. She was a gift from Ron when I first moved here, and I gave her every ounce of my attention throughout elementary and middle school. I haven’t played her since I was a freshman, though, because once I bought Sandra, I was a goner.

I suppose I should find Battle Axe sometime.

She might be better suited for KC’s song.

” He was looking at the ceiling again, with that look in his eyes.

Nell, instead, looked at him. “I trust that whatever you decide is best for her song.”

Barrett looked back at her. That look in his eyes remained, and Nell’s heart floated somewhere she wasn’t sure she could reach.

“Thank you.”

Nell glanced at the clock and saw the time. It wasn’t too late, but given her behavior these past couple of weeks, it was best she didn’t push it. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“Sell me some more drugs,” she said and handed Sandra to him. “I’ll pay the same as last time.”

Barrett’s bright expression dimmed before he caught himself and it came back. “Do you want to do it here again?”

She shook her head. “Maybe later, but our schedules aren’t always the same. It would be nice to have some when I need it.”

Barrett opened his mouth, and for a moment, Nell thought he was going to try to talk her out of it like the last time. Probably say something about how she should have a buddy. But instead, he just nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, Nell got herself ready to leave. This time, she didn’t forget to grab KC’s song and fold it up, making sure it was stored safely in her pocket.

“Be careful not to do too much at once. Sometimes a high can go sideways and mess with your head,” Barrett said, walking out with a small bag of the herb.

Nell held out her hand, and he put it in her palm. She pocketed it in the opposite pocket of KC’s song. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Barrett stepped up to the front door and opened it. He swiped his hand in front of him, motioning for her to exit first. “Now, let’s walk you home.”