Kelly
I catch Tommy's eye. He's got a weird look on his face--half wary, half hopeful. "It's up to you," he says. "I'd love to play them again. But if you need to go, you can."
I hesitate.
"I'm sure we could do it another time, if Kelly needs to leave," Amber says, one brow quirked.
The challenge and pure smugness she's still holding in that look make me want to slap her face. And there's my answer. No more hanging back for me. I'll show her.
"No, it's fine," I say, and smile sweetly. "We can play."
Amber's smile freezes, which makes me want to be super-mature and stick my tongue out at her. But, as if he's afraid I'll change my mind, Crash doesn't let any of us have time. He grabs the guitar I had been using before and hands it to me again, our fingers brushing on the neck of the instrument in a way that makes my skin prickle. Then he puts a hand to the small of my back, ushering me back to my seat.
