Jamie shakes her head.

“Want to just be done for today?” Flynn asks.

Jamie nods.

She darts past me with her guitar, sneaking one more glance at me out of the corner of her eye.

Flynn beckons me in.

I step through the door, and he shuts it quickly behind me.

Suddenly I feel wrong, like I’m missing part of my body. I realize a second later that what I’m missing is my guitar. I’m never in this room without it. I left Yvonne outside, locked in the car. My hands feel huge and empty.

“What’s up?” asks Flynn.

“The band. The other guys.” I want to pace, or punch a wall, or do something to let out the energy searing through me, but this is Flynn’s studio, not my own bedroom. I try to stand still. “They’re pissed at me. And they should be. I did something stupid. But there was nothing else I could do.”

“Okay.” Flynn lowers himself onto his usual chair. He folds his ropy arms and leans back, listening. “Did you guys break up? Is the band over?”

“What? No. No.” Just the idea throws me. I swear, the cement floor starts to rock. “I don’t think so. Jesus. I hope not.”

Flynn nods. “Okay. Then you’ll move on. You fight, and you move on.” He gives me a dry smile. “That’s what bands do. They fight. With occasional breaks to play music.”

Flynn is so . . . Flynn. He’s so mellow and cool and ready to laugh at whatever deserves it, I can feel the tension inside me lessen a little bit. But it’s not quite enough.

“This was more than that.” I try to string words together. “I don’t know if—I don’t—I don’t know . . .”

“Okay,” says Flynn again. “Just take a breath.” He nods to the other chair, inviting me to sit. I throw myself down. Flynn uncrosses his ankles and leans forward, elbows on knees. “So, this isn’t really about the other guys, right?”

I writhe in the chair. I can’t seem to remember how sitting works.

“Right,” I say. “It’s my fault.”

Flynn keeps his voice light. “What’s your fault?”

The water I’m wading into is cold and deep. I take a breath, like Flynn said, and slowly let it out again. “Someone from S&A Artist Management called me a couple weeks ago.”

Flynn’s eyebrows twitch. Flynn stays pretty chill about almost everything, but now and then his eyebrows give him away. “S&A, huh? Decent people.”

“Yeah. And I told them I wasn’t interested.”

“Without talking to Jezz and Patrick,” Flynn supplies.

“Yes.”

Flynn nods slowly. “Kind of a dick move.”

“I know. I know. We all said we wouldn’t sign anything until we were done with school, but I still should have told them. It was just—they were just asking me. Like I was in charge. Or maybe like they just wanted me. Not us. I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Flynn turns his hands up in a tiny shrug. “So maybe it just wasn’t the right thing.”