Free Shy by Thomma Lyn Grindstaff

formal training. Wildflower tells me that's stupendously amazing.
    I guess it is pretty cool.
    For the last year, I've been doing a good job with Kelsey and Ty. We're the Hickory Hollow Boys, and we're starting to get a name around here. All around the region, in fact. Wildflower has been so proud. Going to our gigs, watching us play with stars in her eyes.
    Now, though, she's with this super brainy science major who also plays music, and from what I understand, he's really good at piano and keyboards, like she is. He's in college, too, which means he's surely going to be a lot more acceptable to her mother than I am. A college guy. Probably going to be a scientist of some sort while his band makes a million dollars on the side.
    God damn it. Just god damn it.
    If he's better for her, then who am I to try to mess things up?
    Except it hurts. Because damn it, I still love her.
    If her mom hadn't interfered, we'd probably still be together. But maybe not. I don't know. Her mom has always made me feel like I'm not good enough for her, but it isn't just her mom that makes me feel that way. I make me feel that way. My upbringing makes me feel that way. Wildflower and I are from two very different backgrounds. I worry about the part of me that's like my father, angry and resentful of people who have money, privilege, and more ease in life. I can't lie; there's some of the same resentment in me, too. And what if Wildflower and I got back together, married and had kids, then I wound up making her as anxious and unhappy as my dad makes my mom?
    That's the last thing I want. She's a gentle spirit like Mom. Strong in her way, but gentle, too. She needs someone who won't make her anxious and unhappy.
    Have I ever made her anxious and unhappy? I don't think so. I hope not. I've never done anything like that on purpose. But if I have enough of my dad in me, then how could I keep things from turning out that way?
    I don't see how I could.
    Still, I need to talk to her. I want to see her.
    I worry I'm not good enough for her. But I also can't stand the thought of her taking up with this Granville Watts guy and being lost to me forever.
    I get in my truck and drive to her dorm. She's got to be there. She's probably studying. I won't keep her long. I just want to see how I feel when I'm with her. The love will still be there, the attraction will still be there. What I need, though, is to see if I can let her go.
    I don't know if I can.
    Maybe, just maybe, she doesn't want to let go, either.
    If I see evidence that the other guy is better for her, then I'll have to let her go. It makes no sense for me to hurt either her or myself by hanging on.
     

Chapter Eight (Frannie)
    I'm studying Monday evening—thank goodness Andrea is out of the room; she's studying down the hall with Tabby—when my cell phone plays Mozart. I reach over to grab it off my desk. Maybe it's Granville. I've been wondering when he might call. But no, it's Jake. A battalion of butterflies takes flight in my stomach. Jake had sounded weird this morning. I would swear he was jealous. But why did he break up with me a year ago, if he has such strong feelings for me in that way?
    Maybe he's just calling me to touch base.
    “Hi, Jake.”
    “Wildflower.” His voice sounds gruff, as though he's stressed.
    “What's up?”
    “Can you come out and take a drive for a while?”
    I have a report to write and a quiz to study for, but I've gotten a lot of other things done, and I could use the break. Besides, I want to see Jake. Regardless of anything else, I love seeing him. “Yes. When will you be by?”
    “I'm outside your dorm right now.”
    Oh, wow. “Okay. I'll be right out, then.”
    I run outside and hop into Jake's old seventies model truck. He uses it for his gigs, so lately we've been calling it the Hickory Hollow Mobile, though he's been driving it since he was a junior in high school.
    He looks at me, his eyes seeming darker than usual, and they're already quite dark