The Real Score

Chapter 12: Try

"So let me get this right: you almost had it in 2011, but you were scared so he went for Helena instead. Fast forward to today. He and Helena broke up, you go here, wanting to get a second chance. You move here, which you didn't have the guts to do back then, and he doesn't want you anymore," Daniel summarized, and I nodded.

"Sounds about right."

Beside me, Tom was shaking his head. "He made a wrong choice going for Helena. Now I understand why she's so bitter."

"At least she's not going to write songs about him," Nigel said. "I think we've had enough of that." The other boys sniggered, referring to Marcus' ex, Tamara.

"So what do you wanna do?" Laurence asked, placing an arm over my shoulder. "I think first, you have to show up tomorrow."

"He doesn't—"

Tom clucked his tongue, grabbing my left hand, palm facing up. "Take a risk & fight," he said sternly, reading my tattoo. "You said you wanna fight. You don't give up after losing Round One."

I looked up at him, torn, and he said, "Look, my best friend loves you. And I can see that you love him, too."

"But...?" I pressed.

Tom sighed, running his hands over his quiff. He dropped my hand and fixed his blue green eyes at me, and then turned to his bandmates, as if asking for help. In the end, it was Issa who spoke.

"Love him enough, Caitlin, to fight multiple times. Love him enough to prove to him you're here to stay."

It was my turn to sigh, and I nodded. "Okay. I'll need your help though," I said. I looked around, and I could see the smiles on their faces.

"We're in," Daniel said, and I thanked them.

Tom clapped me on the shoulder, and I faced him. "Just don't screw it up again, please?" he asked quietly.

"I promise."

I took a deep breath, then told them my plan.

*****

The key clicked in the lock, and Preston followed behind me. It was bright and early in the morning, on the day of Gezellig's 1000th concert. As planned, Marcus wasn't there because Tom invited him and the boys for a sleepover at his bachelor pad, wanting to 'reminisce the years that had passed.' (I was BCC-ed when he sent the invite—he really made it sound so dramatic.) I was thankful Marcus didn't take the key he gave me two years ago, and that he didn't change locks.

"I'll be here," Preston told me, and I thanked him before heading to the third floor. My bedroom remained the same, the chalkboard wall empty. The memory of my last night in this room hit me like a fast car hitting a brick wall, making me stagger.

I breathed deeply, stepping towards the chalkboard wall. I took a piece of chalk and started writing.

*****

I stepped back, surveying what I wrote all over the wall. I hoped this was enough. If it wasn't, then I better come up with a plan for Round Three stat.

I dropped the remainder of my chalk back into its case, turning to head towards the door, only to stop in my tracks. Marcus was at the door of the bedroom, with Preston behind him, mouthing, "Sorry!"

I nodded at Preston and he exited, and I trained my eyes on Marcus. "I'm sorry for being here at your house, but I have to do this. You're not replying to my texts or emails, and this is the only other way I know to get my message to you."