Something’s off with Max.

She’s absolutely exhausted. Her eyes have red rims around the edges and gray smudges beneath. She’s tense, and it’s showing in everything she does.

We’ve been back at school for over three weeks. The audition’s this weekend and I’m really worried she’s not going to pull it off.

She’s been pushing herself to the limit—overpacking her life with guitar lessons, band practice, baseball and school.

As she sits here screwing up the chords, I can’t take it anymore.

My guitar twangs as I slap my hand over the strings.

“What’s up?” I ask for what feels like the hundredth time since school’s gone back.

“Nothing.” She hitches her shoulder and I can’t help letting out an irritated huff.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you what’s up. You’re exhausted because you can’t fit it all in. Your dad’s extra training schedule is insane. Now, I know Uncle Rad’s getting you out of some of it, but you’re still pushing too hard. And that’s making you perform badly everywhere.”

Clenching her jaw, she looks away, training her eyes on the egg carton soundproofing.

“Believe me, I hate having to make you choose on this, but—”

“I can manage it.”

“No, you can’t. I mean, maybe you could handle both, but only if your dad will back the hell off!” I huff. “The amount of pressure he puts on you is…”

“No greater than the pressure to play well for Velocity!”

“Hey.” I point at her. “That’s not fair. If you don’t want to play, then don’t.”

Her shoulders slump and she looks like a wounded puppy.

Reaching for her hand, I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “Hey, look at me.”

Her sad blue gaze hits me right in the heart. She looks like a lost kid right now.

Her cheeks flame red for a second and she stares down at her lap.

“Max…” My sigh weighs a ton as I rake my fingers through my hair. “I just want you to be happy.”

“No, you want me to play at that audition,” she croaks.

“Yeah, because playing makes you smile like there’s a sun inside you, busting to get out.”

Her forehead bunches and she squeezes her temples, finally murmuring, “Dad’s booked a scout to come and see me for the final game of the season.”

“Okay,” I murmur. “So that’s what’s stressing you out? That’s why he’s working you so hard?”

She looks up with glassy eyes. “The game’s the same day as the audition. I didn’t tell you because I thought I could fit both in…until Austin told me the audition’s in the afternoon.”

I can’t hide the flash of emotion ripping through me.

Her eyebrows bunch as she fights her tears. “I don’t think the game’s going to be over in time.”

“When does it start?” I croak.

“At three.”

I close my eyes and can’t help a deflated sigh. We’re due at the club at three-thirty. I don’t know what time we’ll be up but all the contestants have to report at three-thirty, then you just wait around until you’re called. We could be on at four or six or eight. I just don’t know.

“You…you lied to me.”

“No.” Max shakes her head. “I’ve never… I mean, I seriously thought I could do both, you know? And I didn’t want to worry you…or let you down.”

Gritting my teeth, I press my lips together to try and hold in the hurt. She looks like she’s about to cry, and I’m not going to go yelling out my frustration.

She may not think she lied to me, but the fact that she didn’t say anything feels like a lie! She should have just been upfront about it, especially with me. I’m not some scary policeman! I’m her boyfriend!

Her teeth skim her lower lip, which trembles when she opens her mouth. “I can see how pissed off you are.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I scrub a hand down my face and will my voice to come out soft and even. “I’m not…mad, I'm disappointed.”

Her face bunches with a look of agony. “Dammit, I wish I could split myself in half and be two people—the baseball girl for Dad and the band girl for you.”

“I don’t need you to be anything for me,” I whisper. “I’ll like you no matter what choice you make.”

“Then why are you so disappointed?” A tear escapes, trailing down her pale cheek.

I swipe it with my thumb, rubbing the moisture against my finger. “Because it kills me knowing that you are happier when you play guitar than when you play baseball, but you will not admit that to your dad.”

“How am I supposed to let him down like this? He’s expecting me to get some scholarship. He needs me to. And my team is expecting me to be there, to play and help them win.”

“Yeah, so you guys can go into the playoffs and your season will keep going. And then, hey, if you’re lucky, that scout will see you and think you’re awesome, and then you’ll be offered the chance to join some college team. Is that what you’re waiting for, Max? Is it going to be easier to tell your dad the truth then?”

I’m fully aware that my tone has been darkened by a heavy dose of sarcasm, but I can’t help flashing just a little emotion.

She’s throwing her life away because she’s too afraid to stand up for herself.

Lurching out of my chair, I start unplugging the amps and tidying up the music room. Homeroom will be starting soon and Dad likes everything locked up on time. We’re supposed to be back down here at lunch, practicing for the audition. I’m already dreading it. Latifa’s been fluctuating over the whole Max thing, but just last night, she admitted that having another girl around has been kind of nice. And now I’ll have to tell her that Max won’t make it to the audition…because she’s playing frickin’ baseball! Tifa won’t get it. She’ll just hear that someone else in her life has let her down and those walls will go straight back up again.

I take the guitar Max hands me and gently place it in the stand before turning back and grabbing my bag.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Stopping by the door, I rest my hand against the frame and keep my eyes on the ground. “You know, I love everything about you, Max…except for the fact that you’re a coward.”

It’s kind of harsh and maybe I shouldn’t have said it.

But it’s out there now and I can’t take it back…because it’s the truth.

Keeping my eyes down, I slam my teeth together and quietly leave the room, locking the door behind me. Max can leave through the music room; Dad’s already in there prepping for the day. Maybe he can talk some sense into her, because I sure as hell can’t.