Page 25 of Shock to the Heart

Crap. That's a lot to deal with at once.

I check the time of his first text, and realize I spent way too much time in the tub. I barely have time to comb out my hair and put it back in a clip before I hear the front door open.

I have no idea how Mom is going to react. She might lose her shit, or she might be too exhausted from the trip to talk about it. She might sit me down and have a deep chat about boys, or she might forbid me to date until I'm forty.

As always, completely unpredictable. Yet another reason I can't wait to move out.

Mom calls up the stairs. "Electra?"

I stay where I am, knowing that they're going to check their precious studio first. Once they've been in there a couple of minutes, and have realized that everything is fine, I slowly walk downstairs and lean in the open studio door.

"Welcome home. How were your meetings?"

Dad has the wall hanging pulled back, shaking his head. "I would never have known there was a hole in that drywall. That Trey did a good job."

"Yeah. I thought he was really meticulous about everything."

"Hm. It's cleaner than we left it." Mom looks around, searching every corner for hidden monsters.

Dad comes over to give me a hug. "Thank you for taking care of this, sweetheart." He shoots Mom a look. "And I'll be having a word with the woman responsible for splashing water all over the house."

"Also, maybe you can ask Todd to stop bashing his amp into the wall?" I point to the spot. "Trey thinks that's probably what knocked the ground loose."

"I will." He turns to Mom. "See? Everything is fine, hon. Let's get you to bed." Dad flashes me a wink. "Somebody hasn't slept properly in days. Needs her own fine linens, of course."

Mom starts to say something, but Dad steers her by the elbow out the door and up the stairs.

I double check that the kitchen is tidy, then trail up to my room. I should probably text Trey back, but I have no idea what I'd say. My emotions are so high I'm terrified of saying the wrong thing.

Plus, I'm drained. I never dreamed I'd be sharing my music with someone else this weekend. I also didn't know I could pour my heart out like that while singing, and that was tiring too. I feel like I ran a marathon yesterday, and every part of me is still exhausted.

I try to read, but find myself staring at the same paragraph for over half an hour.

Calling Trey would take more energy than I have, and I can't trust that it'll come out right over text. I'm not angry with him, but because I'm so frazzled, it might sound like that.

Crap.

There's a tap at the door. Now is not the time for conversation, but I don't exactly have a choice. "Come in."

Dad pushes open the door, then drops into my easy chair. He doesn't look mad, thank god, but there's something in his expression that tells me he wants to have a serious chat.

"I was just in the studio," he says slowly. "You know your mother never touches the computer, but I wanted to be sure it was okay with all the ruckus."

He probably knows me well enough to see the terror in my eyes, yet I try to act casual. "Oh?"

He smirks. "Sweetheart, tell me: if you found new songs on your work computer, would you be tempted to listen to them?"

My breath begins to stutter as I sit up straighter. "W-what?"

His hand reaches out to squeeze my foot. "Next time you want to cover your tracks…so to speak…restart the computer. When I opened the program, it defaulted to where you saved your songs."

"Shoot."

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have listened." He smiles, his eyes shining with pride. "But I'm really glad I did. They are…stupendous. There aren't even words, honey."

His head cocks to the side. "I mean, I'd give the keyboards a little more headroom in the final mix of the second song, and pump the kick across the board, but…"

I grab my pillow and threaten to smack him with it.