Rock Prodigy

Chapter 14

Enjoy!!

Chapter 14

My hands brushed lightly over my guitar case, feeling sadness consume me for a moment as I mourned the loss of my first guitar.

“Rose, there are a few things we need to talk about,” Mac said from the driver’s seat next to me.

I winced hearing the words. In my mind, I kept seeing the shocked look on Mac’s face when the officer had told him about my history with the law. “Um, okay,” I said quietly, shifting uncomfortably in my seat as we drove from his house to mine. Dan had argued with Mac, wanting to come along but had eventually caved when his father reminded him of a science project he had to work on. Mac had a smug look on his face as he and I got into his car and drove away. “Can we stop at the music store first?” I asked, hoping to somehow avoid further conversation altogether.

“What for?” Mac asked, sending a glare in my direction.

I frowned down at my guitar in my lap. “I have to get a new guitar,” I said softly, my throat clogging a little at the thought of replacing my baby.

“No.”

My head whipped over to Mac who was scowling at the road I front of him. “No?” I asked. “Do you have to be somewhere? Because I can just walk there if it’s a problem.”

He shook his head, giving me a stern glance. “You can’t play for at least a week. Your wrist needs time to heal, Rose.”

“I won’t play it,” much. “I’ll just feel better if I have one.”

“You’re lying. You’ll play it and you know it. You won’t even realize it until you strum the first chord and then you won’t be able to stop. You’ll get that spaced out look on your face and you’ll forget to sleep.” He shook his head, with a half smile on his lips. “Just give it a week, then I’ll go with you to get a new one, okay?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, crossing my arms over my chest.

He sighed. “You’re not being very smart, Rose.”

I scowled at him but his logic managed to penetrate. My wrist was sore and swollen and there were bruises all the way up my forearm. Playing with it in this condition probably wouldn’t be smart and if I had a guitar at my apartment, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. “Okay,” I said quietly after a while, feeling depressed.

He nodded, satisfied and I brooded for the rest of the car ride. When he pulled up to the curb outside of my apartment, he reached out a hand to stop me from leaving the car. “Rose, I want you to tell me more about your past.”

My heartbeat picked up as his indigo eyes looked steadily into mine, curiosity and concern burning in his gaze. I swallowed and took a deep breath as I nodded, unable to speak as panic settled in my throat.

He got out of the car and headed to my apartment door with me. We walked up the stairs in silence and I let him into my small apartment, setting my broken guitar gently on the floor next to the record player. “Do you want anything?” I asked, fidgeting with the hem of Mac’s shirt that I hadn’t bothered changing out of. He just shook his head and we both sat on the floor cross legged, facing each other.

“When you were arrested, the cop said that you had a history of crime. What did he mean?” Mac asked bluntly, his words making the breath whoosh out of my lungs.

“Jeez, you get right to the point don’t you?” I said, my voice shaky as I avoided his gaze. I gave a wobbly smile and took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. “Basically, I was kind of arrested when I was nine for vandalism.”