Page 52 of Sunday Morning

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Page 52 of Sunday Morning

“We know you’ll do exactly what they tell you to.” He laughed again, and it irritated me more than it normally would have since Isaac pointed out Matt’s lack of focus on my dreams. And I was tired of being such a pleaser to everyone except myself.

“Not this time,” I said.

“Where are you going to sing?”

“I don’t know. Wherever. I feel like I need to be where things are happening to stand a chance of being discovered.”

“How will you support yourself if your parents refuse to do it?”

“Duh. I’ll get a job during the day.”

“You know I love you, and I think you’re a great singer, but have you considered how incredibly rare it is for a no-name to show up in Nashville and actually make it big?”

“About as rare as it is for a rancher’s son from Devil’s Head, Missouri, to play in the big leagues.”

“Sarah …”

“Matt,” I mocked him.

“Your parents are never going to approve of this.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “they were never going to approve ofwhat we did in your car, but we did it anyway. Do you regret it?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. We made our own decisions no matter what anyone thought. And we did it because we had a passion that mattered more than anyone’s opinion. That’s how I feel about music. Writing, playing, singing it. How am I supposed to go to college when I have no idea what I could possibly want to do in life besides play my music?”

“That’s not true. You thought about accounting.”

“Matt, I had to think of something to get our guidance counselor off my back about planning my future. I don’t want to be an accountant.”

“That’s why your parents suggested a community college. You can get prerequisites taken while you figure it out.”

“Prerequisites for what? My parents suggested community college because I didn’t get good grades like you.”

“Sarah,” Matt sighed. “Give it a year at a community college. You might decide music is more of a hobby.”

“It’s not a hobby. It’s my dream. I want you to say that you think my dreams are important.”

“Of course, I think your dreams are important.”

“Then why are you trying to talk me out of following them?”

“I’m not. I’m only trying to help you set realistic expectations, so you won’t be disappointed.”

I gripped the phone tighter. “So you already think it’s a foregone conclusion that I won’t make it if I go to Nashville? And you want me to prepare to be disappointed? Wow. Thanks, Matt.”

“Fine, Sarah. What do you want me to say? You’re goingto be a big star? You’re going to have sell-out concerts across the country? Then, sure, I’ll say it. You’re going to be the biggest star of our generation. No need to go to college. Happy?”

“You’re an asshole.”

Click.

CHAPTER TWELVE

EURYTHMICS, “WOULD I LIE TO YOU?”

The following day,the farm stand was busy, and I didn’t see Isaac or Wesley, not even when I returned to the house with the key and cash bag. A few of the other ranch workers were in the fields on horses and one was on a tractor near a grain bin.




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