It was seven o’clock when the doorbell rang. I was already in my pajamas and makeup free. I hardly registered the doorbell because I’d just written several lines of a new song, one that wouldn’t exploit Cade’s tragic life.
It’s easy to judge not knowing the truth Only seeing carefully built walls.
It’s hard to undo years written in youth
But how amazing when the tower finally falls.
And I see you standing there
All sweet and kind of scared.
And you see me standing here.
Hope in my eyes but full of fear.
A knock at my door startled me from the lyrics. “Yeah?”
The door opened and my mom’s face appeared. “Hey, you have a visitor.”
“I do?”
She didn’t give me a chance to ask another question, just swung my door open the rest of the way, revealing Cade. He stood, hands clasped in front of him, his posture reserved, shoulders down, head bowed slightly, like he wasn’t sure how I’d receive him.
“Hey!” I jumped up, a smile instantly on my face. “Come in.”
He looked to my mom to make sure that was okay.
“Keep the door open,” was all she said in return, then walked away.
“I don’t have your phone number,” he said, looking around my room, then choosing the desk chair at the foot of my bed as his landing place. “I wanted to see you.”
I sunk back down to my bed, my smile far from leaving my face. “I will give you my phone number so that I’ll be better prepared for you next time.” I patted my hair and tugged on my T-shirt.
“You look adorable.” He rolled the desk chair around my bed so we were now knee to knee. “You are adorable. I want to kiss you. I can do that now, right?”
I only got one head bob of my nod in before he took my face in his hands and pulled me to him. Given the urgency in his eyes, I thought our lips would collide, but right before they did, he paused, breathed me in, then ran his lips slowly across mine. My breath was gone and I grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and tugged him toward me. The kiss didn’t last long enough before he pulled away again.
“I just wanted to make sure,” Cade said with a smile. “With the way you left today, I wasn’t sure where we stood.”
“You think I just go around kissing boys for fun?”
“I don’t know what to think of you. You constantly surprise me. I honestly thought that you’d be waiting for me after baseball practice.”
I made a face. “You wanted me to wait around school for over an hour?”
He laughed. “No, I did not. That would be boring.”
“Oh!” I said, suddenly realizing something. “That’s what other girls have done. I’m sorry. That probably would’ve been a good show of how much I liked you or something.”
“Don’t be sorry. I like that your life doesn’t revolve around this.” He pointed between the two of us and I grabbed his finger.
“What do you mean by this?”
“Us.”
“Us? I like us.”
He kissed my hand that was still holding his finger. “Me too.”
If I thought back over the past several weeks I could trace the days where lyrics came easy to me. Those were the days when some emotional height was reached. Days when the letter I found in Chemistry was funny or heartfelt or sad. Or the day when I discovered the letter writer was Cade. Those were the days the lyrics seemed to pour out of me in a wave of emotion.
Now, only days after kissing Cade for the first time, but with less than a week left to finish up a song for the contest, tension was definitely not an emotion that was helping at all. My sister wasn’t being helpful either. She was singing pop songs she loved at the top of her lungs while telling me I should try to make my song more like whatever song she was singing.
“Please. I beg of you. Can you be quiet?” I had bought a guitar from Craigslist with the money she gave me and was feeling very ungrateful that I now wanted to kick her out of the room. I’d already come up with what I thought was a good tune, and her singing was only throwing me off. All I had to do was finish the lyrics.
“I will do your laundry for a week if you give me an hour alone.”
“You’ll shrink my stuff on purpose so you can wear it,” Ashley said.
That wasn’t a bad idea. I stood up, pulled her up by her arms, which was harder than I thought it would be, and deposited her outside of the room. “One hour.”
She didn’t fight it as I heard her sing her way down the hall. I sank onto my bed and picked up the guitar again. The silence was supposed to bring me inspiration but my mind went blank. I picked up my phone and shot off a text:
I need inspiration.
Cade sent me back a selfie—him making a smoldering face—and I laughed.
Yeah. That didn’t work.
That’s all I have to work with, he replied. You’re out of luck. You writing a song?
Trying to. One week left.