Nineteen-year-old, Bea Somerton, knows exactly how she wants to live. Become a doctor, remain in remission from her childhood Leukaemia and have a happy, normal, life.
The last thing she expects is to meet rising star and troubled musician, Holden P...
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"I don't see why you had to drive me," I grumble. "I have my own car. Which has a full tank of petrol and was just serviced. Not to mention—"
"You've been spending a lot of time with this guy," Parker remarks, the headlights of his car guiding us towards the hospital. "Bout' time I meet him."
"Please don't," I groan. "You're protective enough as it is."
"Dude," he pulls into the parking lot of the quite hospital. "We aren't just talking about a regular guy here. He's a fully-fledged rockstar. His ego is probably the size of China."
"Oh, it can be," I nod. "He thinks that it's just a given that people like his music."
"Do you like his music?" Parker grins, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as we wait for the front doors to swing open.
"Maybe," I grumble, at which he laughs outright. "But that's completely redundant in this scenario. He shouldn't assume everyone loves him."
"Him?" Parker grins, turning to stare at me. "I don't remember mentioning him, just his music."
"Same thing!" I defend. "God, Parker, I don't love—"
"Evening, Somerton. And... male Somerton?"
I jump, a hand clenching at my chest as I spin around, glaring at Holden. He's seated in the back middle seat of Parker's car, wearing an easy grin and tossled brown hair.
"Holden!" I glower. "Where did you even come from?"
He shrugs nonchalantly, his hard jaw working as he chews gum. "Seemed like you were having an intense conversation. Thought it would be rude to interrupt."
I feel my skin heat. Shit. How much had he heard of my conversation with Parker?
I eye him warily, but he doesn't seem to have heard anything. He isn't grinning like an idiot or talking about the fact I admitted to loving his music.
"So, what's the plan exactly?" He questions, leaning forward to fit his head between the driver and passenger seat.
Despite our argument the other day, I really was serious about forgetting it happened. I know how little time I have left before chemo starts and I'll struggle to get out of bed.
I grab for the folded list, Sophia's warning suddenly filling my head.
