Page 1 of Scoring Lessons

ONE

OLIVIA

LET’S KEEP THE ROMANCE TO A MINIMUM.

I’d always taken offense when someone said Chicago was the cleaner version of New York. After all, New York wasn’t just a city—it was the city of dreams, and reducing it to something Chicago could simply tidy up and replicate felt like a disservice to everything that made it what it was.

Or, maybe, New York wasn’t that great. Maybe it was just something people said to justify paying an outrageous amount of money for a studio apartment in the heart of Manhattan—one that, when you really thought about it, looked more like a shoe box.

But as I sat on top of my luggage outside Chicago O’Hare International Airport while waiting for my brother to pick me up, it was embarrassing to think how much I had romanticized it. New York City was supposed to be the go-to place for people in their early twenties who had big dreams to accomplish, or when they were trying to discover themselves.

What better way to go unnoticed than in a city where everyone was focused on themselves?

It was a place where you could seek new opportunities.

Everyone had dreams of their own. Myself included. It was what kept the world moving. Because without aspirations, who were we? What was our purpose?

The older I got, the more I realized that aspirations were one thing, and reality was another. The truth was cold and unforgiving. The world wasn’t going to stop spinning just because I was stuck and I didn’t know what to do.

It was why New York had been the perfect choice at the time.

Until it became another reason to pack up my things and leave before it was too late.

And now, here I was. Starting from scratch—again. New job. New city. New life. A possible forever home?

Please, my brain mocked. Have you learned nothing, oh sweet summer child? Delusion is not a good look on you.

Nope, Olivia. Snap out of it. Focus on the good, another part of me—the one who tried its damn hardest to keep my life from falling apart—whispered. I liked that Olivia—the one who still tried to find hope amidst all the gray and muddy areas.

“All right,” I muttered to myself. “Let’s focus on the positive.” I could do that. Piece of cake.

Let’s see…Chicago wasn’t so bad. I’d been traveling back and forth for the last three months, and it was growing on me. My brother was here, and even though he drove me up the wall, I loved the idea of being closer to family.

That was as much as I could come up with.

The fact that I could come up with one positive thing despite how my life had spiraled was a record in itself.

Talk about growth, am I right?

“What do you think, Daisy?” I scratched my four-year-old rescue dog’s ear. “Do you love it here yet?”

The first time I saw her, it had been fate. She was my spirit animal in every sense of the word. For being a Golden Retriever, she could be quite selective. It was just us, two grumpy girls, against the stupid world.

Well…okay. I mean, she was still a Golden Retriever. They were playful and extroverted by nature, but her judgment of character was spot on—better than mine.

I dropped a kiss on top of her head. “It’s going to be fun. We love adventures, don’t we, my sweet girl?”

Was having a one-sided conversation with my dog a normal occurrence? Yes, it was.

But Daisy wasn’t only a dog. She was my best friend. The only constant in my life. Though sometimes, the way she looked at me was almost accusatory, like she was judging me for running away.

“It’s okay,” I whispered as I continued to pet her. The sun shone on her fur, turning it a magical shade of gold. “I judge myself, too.”

My brother’s truck parked in front of us, and as soon as he stepped out and approached us, Daisy all but ran toward him.

“Traitor,” I muttered to my dog, who couldn’t even hear me because she was too enthralled with her uncle.

She rarely got excited around people, but when it came to him? An instant puddle.