Chapter 41

BOOK TWO: KEEP

Zane

My palms slid against the guitar, slick with sweat, I tried to wipe them across my jeans, but it was no use. The noise was deafening. I had to remind myself why I was up there. "Saint! Saint! Saint!" Stomping ensued while I knelt down and made the sign of a cross in the air in front of me. "We want Saint! We want Saint!" With a muffled curse, I stood, then reached into my tight jeans to pull out a smashed marshmallow.

I popped it in my mouth and closed my eyes, allowing myself to be transported back to a simpler time, a time when things were easy, when decisions weren't all on me. When life was about making mud pies and carrying around miniature marshmallows in a measuring cup.

"You don't have to save the world," she whispered. "You know that, right?"

"Right." I furrowed my brow. "But why is it wrong to try?"