Beneath the Stain - Part 1

Beneath the Stain - Part 1 Read Online Free PDF

Book: Beneath the Stain - Part 1 Read Online Free PDF
Author: Amy Lane
matters is, I know there’s places it can be. Two years here—how bad can it get?”
    That brought Mackey up short. “I got three,” he muttered. But then the logic settled in. “Three years. As long as I can play music, it’s all good.”
    He heard a song in that, about light at the end of the tunnel, and for a moment he was distracted by the song and the quiet between him and Tony got natural again. So natural that when Tina Camden ran into the gym trilling Tony’s name, Mackey actually jerked and almost dropped a guitar.
    “Jesus,” he hissed, rounding on her, about ready to give her a piece of his mind.
    “Making enough noise, Tina?” Tony joked, and Tina laughed.
    “My mom just finished making up my dress,” she said. “Tony, I can go tonight!” Tina was a little plump—she’d probably needed some adjustments to that dress—and Mackey was irrationally glad, even though he didn’t know Tina at all. Someone got to come to the gym and dance.
    “That’s great,” Tony said. “Can Lynn and Sarah make it?”
    “Yeah,” and Tina’s voice dropped a little. “But, you know, I was sort of hoping you and me….”
    She looked up, biting her lip, and Tony winked at her.
    “It’ll be better in a group, I promise. Besides, I’m not really a ladies’ man, honey, you know that.”
    Tina nodded, but Mackey could tell by her disappointment that she didn’t understand at all.
    “That’s okay,” she said, her voice picking up some of its trill again. “I just wanted to let you know. Do you all want to meet at my house?”
    They made plans as Mackey finished up the sound check on his own. When he was done, he picked up the lead guitar and brushed a few chords, losing himself in that flawless communication between plucked string and air.
    He played a few more notes, mumbled some words, strung them together, talked about being open inside. Like a pomegranate, all the little seeds that make you bleed.
    He paused and saw Tony, down on the floor, looking at him longingly.
    “That was beautiful,” Tony said. “Don’t stop.”
    Mackey smiled a little and was going to shake his head, but Tony stopped him.
    “Please,” he said quietly. “There’s no one here. Let’s play pretend. Let’s pretend you’re not after someone else, and I’ll pretend you’re playing at the prom just for me.”
    Mackey thought Tony had it all under control, the being gay, the hanging with all the girls, the asking and being rejected. But that right there taught him something he’d remember forever.
    Nobody had it under control. Nobody had it buttoned down all the time. Sometimes all you could do was play pretend. And the people who looked at him on the stage and pretended were just as bare on the inside as Mackey, who got lost in the music on the stage for the very same reason.
    “Okay,” he murmured, picked up the guitar again. He played the riff a couple of times, because he had the words in his head for the singing. “Can you copy the words for me?” His notebook—this one battered and halfway done—was at the foot of the stage.
    “Yeah,” Tony said, looking like he always did around school, like he was thrilled to be asked to help.
    “Tony!” Mackey almost panicked for a moment, remembering the personal stuff in there, wondering if he’d ever mentioned Grant by name. “Just flip to the back where it’s empty, okay?”
    Tony caught his gaze again, and for a minute, Mackey was sorry. Why not this kid? Why couldn’t it be this kid? But as warm as Tony’s eyes were, they weren’t Grant’s gold, and that’s what Mackey wanted to see.
    Mackey fingered the melody with delicate, dancing notes, and sang the words while Tony watched, and then he looked at the lyrics and ran through the song again and again.
    He was on his fifth run-through when Kell and Grant came in to pick him up. They stopped and listened while Tony wrote the words at Mackey’s direction, and when Mackey was done, they both clapped.
    “I like
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