Chapter Six
Demetri
I smiled like an idiot the rest of the way home. I couldn’t
help it. Alyssa. Laughing, I walked into the house and went to the
fridge for another soda. I’d usually have a beer about now, and I
was excited about actually talking to someone my age who wasn’t
my brother, my brother’s girlfriend, or a crazy fan. In fact, she
didn’t even stutter when I talked to her.
I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or excited.
The TV was on in the background. I flipped open the can of
soda and downed half of it before jumping onto the couch.
Bob was sitting there, his eyes trained on the TV like a man
starved. Poor guy, because of his job he hardly got any TV time in,
and I know he was just as bored as I was, considering he had to
basically wait around while I worked at the taffy store.
“Tried blueberry pancakes yet?” I took another sip of soda.
“Yup.”
“Cherry Cola?”
“Yup.”
Damn. “Salted caramel corn?”
Bob fell silent then looked at me. “Nope.”
We played this every night. He was so far ahead in the taffy
tasting that it was pathetic. It was my one goal to beat him and eat
a piece of taffy he hadn’t yet eaten.
His eyes narrowed. “Seaside Taffy doesn’t have that flavor.”
“I know.” I smiled triumphantly. “I was flirting with the
competition.”
“Whoring yourself out again?”
“Very funny, Bob.”
He shrugged. “I thought so.”
“Admit it, you want to try some now.”
“Maybe.” He rose from his seat and gave me the remote.
I shook my head. “It’s all yours tonight, man. I’m going to go
write.”
“School’s out?” He leaned in as if to see if I was high.
I slapped his hand away. “I’m not high, I’m not drunk, and I
know school’s out. Songs. I’m going to go write some songs.”
“You haven’t written since you and Nat…”
“Thank you for being so perceptive.” I slapped him on the
back. “I’ll be upstairs writing and pouring out my feelings. Have
fun watching the game.”
He nodded and sat back down.
****
My guitar was gathering dust in the corner. I hadn’t picked
it up since that day last fall when I crashed Nat’s homecoming and
played the song I wrote for her. I didn’t know it at the time, but she
and my brother were already in love. Later that night, I tried to get
her out of her clothes and into my bed before my brother beat me to
it.
I hit a wall.
It was like, I couldn’t write anymore.
It was also part of the reason I didn’t feel bad that Alec was
doing all our promo. We were supposed to go back on tour after
my rehab stint this summer, and somehow we had to record our
album in the next four months to do some tours in the fall.
It was the beginning of June, and I was still twiddling my
thumbs about writing some stuff.
Before, all my songs had been about getting wasted and
partying at the clubs. Then I wrote a song for Nat. It was my
favorite song I’d ever written. It was a different sound than before
and was going on our next album.
I wanted more songs like it, more songs that talked about
important stuff, not just going to parties and living it up.
I strummed a few chords and sighed.
The view from my room was legit. I put the guitar down and
pushed open the window. The sea breeze floated into the room.
Sitting back down, I grabbed my pencil and paper and strummed a
few chords again.
“Good Taffy, strong taffy,” I sang, then laughed. Wow, the
fans would love that one.
“Salted caramel corn makes me want to kiss her…” I
crooned and snorted with disgust.
“Alyssa,” I said her name softly and then a little louder.
Something was up with that chick. Why wouldn’t she have
friends? I didn’t for one second buy that crap about them all
moving away. Besides, she was gorgeous. I mean, she didn’t dress
the best, but still, those eyes, those lips? That face. I knew a hot girl
when I saw one. At least the girl should have a boyfriend.
“Pretty girl.” I sighed, and then like it had happened
thousands of times before, my fingers glided across the guitar, and
I began to sing.
“You’re bad. Bad for me, bad to me, bad with me. I know it when I
see your face, the way your smile tilts that way. But I can’t, can’t stop
myself from staring, can’t stop myself from swearing. I’ll never be that
way, with you.
Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you
now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.
Trust. The word falls easy from my lips. Trust me, need me, use
me. You call to me. Your eyes hide secrets I want to know. Yet I keep
myself from asking, afraid that the answers are too close to home.
Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you
now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.”
I played it in a minor key, giving it a folksy feel. I figured if I
added some electronic sound effects, it would be amazing.
I looked over the words and cringed. I’d forgotten how
emotional writing was, how it seemed to reflect exactly what was
on my mind and damn the consequences. The words taunted me as
I put the paper down and finished the song.
I set up GarageBand and recorded it, then attached it to an
email for Alec.
My phone rang five minutes later.
“Dude,” Alec said on the other end. “What was that?”
“A song?” I swallowed. Crap, I thought he would like it.
“You made Nat cry.”
“It wasn’t about her!” I argued. “I just wrote it and —”
“Chill.” Alec laughed. “She cried because it was so beautiful,
and because she gets emotional when she’s proud. Right, babe?”
I heard Nat say a dirty word and laughed.
“She’s mad at me for telling you.” Alec chuckled into the
phone. “Can we record that for the album?”
I thought about it for a minute. It was kind of personal, and
it wasn’t even about me, but about her. But it wasn’t as if she
listened to us anyway. “Sure. Yeah, let’s do it.”
“Cool, now write twenty more.”
“While you do what?”
Alec laughed into the receiver and spoke in a low voice. “I
think I’ll have Nat keep me occupied.”
“And this conversation is over.” I rolled my eyes. “Later,
brother.”
“Bye.”
It was three in the morning before I found my bed, and also
the first time in the last year that I didn’t crave something to numb
my feelings.
I felt raw. Exposed. I’d forgotten how much I liked it. Liked
to actually feel, as bad as it hurt. It was real, it was life. And I was
finally living.