Page 108 of Goodbye Days

“So I’m some dumb groupie who just wants to get with a rock star?”

“No. I mean, you did offer to be his keyboard player, though.” I should stop talking, but I can’t. It’s like when you pissed your pants as a kid—you knew you were doing something gross and wrong but you couldn’t stop once you started.

She takes a deep breath through her nose. “Wanting to play keyboards in someone’s band is not wanting to marry them. Besides, he’s an adult man. With a girlfriend.”

“Oh, glad you checked.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why are you being shitty right now? After the best show of my life and you’re seriously crapping on me.”

“I’m just making conversation.”

“Not the kind Eli would have made after a great show.”

“I’m not Eli.”

“Look, can we please stop having weirdness? I don’t get what your deal is or why you’re being this way, but could you please stop?”

“Fine.”

We drive in strained silence the rest of the way home. At one point, we make eye contact and we trade terse, taut-lipped smiles.

There’s so much I want to say to her, and so much static in my brain. I don’t have a clear line on my thoughts.

We pull up to her house with my head still in a vortex.

“Okay. Well. Thanks,” Jesmyn says, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll s—”

“Jesmyn.”

She looks at me expectantly.

“I’m—” Don’t say you have feelings for her. If you’re going to do this, if you’re going to succumb, use any other phrase but that. “I have feelings for you. I like you. I like like you. As more than a friend.”

Her expression tells me immediately that’s not what she was hoping to hear. The air goes stiff.

She shakes her head and puts her hand over her eyes, bowing her head and moaning softly. “Carver. Carver.”

My blood speeds. “It’s not like I chose for this to happen.”

“I’m sure, but I can’t. You must know that. I just can’t.”

I’m not sure I even can. But still. I’m in it now. The only way out is on the other side. “Why not?”

“Why not? Seriously?”

“I mean, the obvious reason I know.”

“Well, right. The obvious reason is the reason.” She buries her face in both hands, muffling her voice.

“Do you not feel anything back?”

“You’re my friend. I like you.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

She raises her hands in front of her as though holding an invisible box. “Carver, I can’t. I can’t deal with this right now. I have a Juilliard audition to prepare for. My boyfriend—your best friend—died two and a half months ago. I am not ready for another relationship.”

“But with Eli you were ready after all of three days.”