Everyone has a song that captures who they are. No one but Leila Gonzalez can hear them.
Melodies and tunes fill her head everywhere she goes, and all she wants is to replicate them in her songwriting. There's just one problem: she sucks at songwrit...
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LEILA DIDN'T KNOW WHAT possessed her to say yes, but there she was inside his pick-up truck, following the road outside of the city and into the familiar dirt road they once took ages ago. When the gazebo came into view, she wondered what he was trying to do. She clutched her cupcake bag closer when they parked in front of the lake.
She thought she would never go back there again, much less with Neil.
He got off the truck and opened her door before she could gather her wits. She slowly landed onto the ground, kicking dust with every step towards the abandoned gazebo. This time she didn't mind the rotten wood she was wary of when she first went there, and plopped herself in the middle. Her gaze traveled towards the lake, ignoring Neil as he sat beside her.
"Leila," he started. She didn't look back at him. "I'm sorry, okay. I—I did use you." She turned at that, eyes glaring into his like sharpened daggers. "But that was before I knew you. I was just given a warning. After the last rumor came out, our manager obligated me to lay low. You know about the rumor. Hell—it was the reason why Charles quit teaching in the first place. So I saw the music fest as an opportunity to show that I could work on music and not get into trouble."
She turned away, not wanting to be there in that very second. Having him admit his wrongs was another stab in her chest. Not only that, but receiving the cool shock into her system of knowing why her old teacher stormed out of the shop stopped her from feeling anything else other than the hurt that had nested low in her stomach. Mr. Harlow knew Neil wasn't good news, so he left before he could get wrapped up in his web.
"But then I got to know you," he continued. "And it was the most shocking thing. Music came easier with you. Everything made sense. I loved every single moment we spent together. Writing that song with you was the best experience ever, and I would never trade it for the world."
She set her jaw, glancing down at her hands. "You still used me."
"And I'm so sorry, Leila," he cried. "But please believe me when I say that I wasn't trying to use you at the end. When we went on that stage, I was performing with the best girl I've ever met. It wasn't about my chance to prove something to my manager." Leila pursed her lips, fearing opening her mouth. "I understand why you feel like this. I've been mad at myself too. But I needed to tell you the truth."
"You could've told me at the beginning," Leila whispered. "We could have made a deal or something. Why hide your motives behind my back like that?"
"I don't know," Neil said. "If you haven't noticed, I'm the dumbest dude you'll ever meet."
They stayed in silence for a few minutes. Leila didn't know what else to say. He had spoken his truth, or what she hoped to believe was his truth. He did admit to using her, but she wasn't sure if the last part was to save face, to iron that wrinkle that was left by the revelation of his intentions.
