Falling Means Breaking: An Adam Levine FanFic

Chapter 7

It was my father, not my alarm, that dragged me out of the sleep of the dead that morning. I was surprised, because usually he was at the studio by this time in the morning and my alarm hadn't woken me up.

"I turned it off," my father said, seeing my worried glance at my alarm.

"Is everything okay dad?" I asked. It was weird for him to not be at work. I had lived with him for 6 years and I had never known him to miss a day unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Yeah. My babygirl has a performance today, I asked off work." I knew I was smiling like an idiot.

"You didn't have to. I'm sure there's lots that you need to do, I wouldn't want you to get behind." He tousled my hair and told me to get dressed. Seeing as the talent night didn't start until 5, I didn't really understand why my dad had taken the whole day, but it was nice to have him home with me for once. As a performer, I had to stay there all day and run through rehearsal and help set up, so I packed a second outfit. There was no way I was wearing my dress to school all day. Making sure I had shoes today, I walked downstairs and ate the huge breakfast my dad had made us. He was a strange dude, my dad. He could make amazing breakfast, but he hated to cook. I was halfway through my second pancake and almost done with my bacon when Adam walked in with his school stuff in his arms.

"Don't you have a bag for that?" My dad asked, grinning and sliding Adam a plate full of pancakes and bacon over the counter.

"I do, but it is currently full of stuff I need for talent night. Your daughter runs a tight ship," he replied, setting his books and clothing bag on the floor in order to better inhale his pancakes. For the first time in a long time, Adam and I got a ride to school from my dad. He said that he had some errands to run, that'd he'd be back by 5. We thanked him for the ride and lugged our bags into school. All we could manage was heavy breathing and grunts until we'd secured our stuff in Mr. Carter's room. I walked my books to my locker and, keeping the ones I would need, slammed it shut.

"Are you're parents coming?" I asked when Adam joined me on the floor next to my locker.

"Mom said she'd try, but you know how she is about everything at work." I nodded and left it at that. He helped me to my feet and we had to jog to make it to Myburgh's room on time. The rest of the day seemed to drag on forever. At lunch, Adam and I ate quickly and ran to the Fine Arts hallway to set up instruments and ensure that everything was in tune. Adam was strumming an electric guitar and humming a little tune. He was perfect like that; bent over a guitar, pick in between his deft fingers. So I grabbed Mr. Durham's camera, which, him being the photography teacher and all, meant that it was a very nice, rather expensive, and incredibly old camera. I lifted it to my eyes and snapped the picture, catching the snapshot that printed out the front. That caught Adam's attention and he looked up to see me standing across the room with a camera. Instead of freaking out, he plastered on a goofy grin, which I proceeded to take a picture of. When we left to go back to class we had a few pictures each. He was flipping through the one's in his hands and stopped for a minute.

"This is my favorite," he picked up the picture so I could see. It was a picture Mr. Carter had taken of us; both our backs were pressed in the door way and my feet were on top of his so I was actually as tall as him.

"For a music teacher, he's pretty savvy with a camera." I replied. Adam nodded, a little smile on his face. All of the performers got out of their last classes early, so the next time I saw him all our books had been forced into lockers and I had slipped all the pictures into the pocket of my bag. We got stuck moving stage pieces and making sure that all the instruments where lined up. By the time that all actually got done it was about 4:45, so I ran to the bathroom to change into my dress and finish my makeup.

I curled my hair in 15 minutes and did my eyeliner. I had on a short, black dress and strappy black heels with little silver decorations on the heel. When I walked out of the bathroom, my father was standing the performance hallway talking to Mr. Carter.

"He dad!" I jumped into a hug with him.

"Don't you just look all grown up?" He smiled to himself and hugged me a little tighter. Mr. Carter laughed with us and walked back into his office. I showed my dad to his seat in the concert hall and walked back stage to watch other people perform. Two girls named Shay and Brooke danced to the Overture from The Phantom of the Opera. Then our friend Erik sang I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing and played guitar. Someone from my math class sang Lips of an Angel. They let the honor band play a whole set of just The Who songs from the first album. Finally, Mr. Carter, who had been announcing all the acts, stepped up to the mic.

"Up next we have two up standing members of our honors music program that are going to be singing an original composition. So without further ado, here is Beka McMahon and Adam Levine singing I Can't Lie." We walked out on to the stage and for a second, the lights blinded me. I stood behind one mic with my acoustic guitar and Adam stood behind the other one with his electric. The notes drifted softly out of our guitars at first and then I started to sing. Adam smiled as I got more confident. By the end he was wailing on his guitar and we were both singing. We got a standing ovation, which boosted my confidence even more. It was easier to sit back stage after that. Adam hadn't stopped smiling the entire night. Then Mr. Carter announced the last act and Adam shot out of his seat. Running on stage he whispered something in Carter's ear and then sat back down.

"What was all that about?" I asked, watching the last act play the flute.

"The people wanted an encore, so we are going to give it to them." Adam smiled smugly and handed me an electric guitar. It wasn't until I was up on that stage again, only alone this time, that I realized it was Adam's guitar that he'd handed me. I wasn't really sure what to do at first, but The Man Who Sold the World started dancing off my fingers and I started singing. I thought I was going to pass out, but people started clapping and singing along and I relaxed a little. When it was over, I slid the strap off my shoulder and handed Adam his guitar back. He handed it to the stage kids and wrapped me up in a hug.

"YOU WERE AMAZING." He spun me around, almost hitting several people. I laughed and we walked out, his arm around my waist, to meet my father.

"That's my girl!" He smiled at us. We helped the old music teacher pack up and then my dad took us out to a very fancy dinner. Adam gushed all night about how good I was, and I smiled. He knew how to make me feel special. And if I could survive the first solo of my life, I could tell him how I felt. My dad gave us a ride back to my house and we changed into less formal clothing. With that, we walked down to the park and laid underneath the stars on the top of the treehouse. We used to do that a lot when we were kids. If one of us had a particularly bad day, we'd climb up to the top of the treehouse and then we'd let out all of our frustration to the very top of the trees. Then the other person would climb up and we'd end up singing or dancing or just talking. Adam's mom had made us stop when Adam fell the summer we turned 11 and broke his arm.

Laying at the top of the world that night, I felt better than I had in weeks. The stars even seemed to glow minimally brighter. Adam was still smiling and I could see the night painted out against his eyes. "I think we need to talk," he said, turning to me with that same smile.

"Okay go." I tried to keep my voice from shaking as I turned to look at him.

"You've been holding out on me. That was really amazing." He touched my shoulder and I kept reminding myself that it was a friendly gesture.

"Thank you. You weren't so bad yourself." He rolled his eyes at me and we just stayed like that for a while. His hand never left my shoulder. I could feel his index finger rubbing small circles around the skin on the back of my neck and shoulder. And then, his hand brought my mouth to his and he kissed me. My first kiss was in eighth grade with a guy I didn't really like and I'd had a few kisses after that, but nothing compared to this. I set my hand on his neck, I had to remind myself he was really kissing me. This changed everything. With Adam's hands on my back, pulling me closer I couldn't leave. I couldn't walk away from him. I probably couldn't walk at all. My knees were feeling a little weak and I wasn't even standing. It didn't help that we were still kissing.