CHAPTER 37

“Emily. Open up.” I pound on the door at the end of the hall on the sixth floor. The third time I knock, it swings wide to reveal Rica. “She’s not here, lover boy.” “Do you know when she’s getting back?” She shrugs, glancing over her shoulder. “Few days, I think. She asked me to feed Heath.” The goldfish circles his tank as if everything’s right with the world. It’s not right. I shove both hands through my hair. “I’ve been calling her all day since the showcase.” “Bet it’s hard. Sounds like your phone’s the one blowing up.” She’s not wrong. The thing jumps in my pocket every damned minute. The performance was good—better than good. But it wasn’t right… because she wasn’t with me. I head back to my place, my breath huffing in the November air, and find a new slew of texts and voicemails. One missed call from Emily has me relieved because it means she’s not avoiding me. This time, I get through. “I’ve been calling all night,” I say when she picks up. “Sorry, it’s been kind of crazy. I wanted to tell you how great you were.” I tune in to the background noise, realize she’s keeping her voice down. “I watched from the back,” she goes on. “Like you watched The Little Mermaid.” My throat works. “Best seats in the house.” “They are if you’re on your way out of town.” I exhale hard. “You’re going home to talk to your dad and Haley. That’s good, Emily. It’ll be good.” “No. I’m going to LA with Avery. I’m going to play a few gigs with Frank.” Her words have me pulling up in the middle of an intersection, which I don’t realize until a horn honks at me and I force myself to keep walking. “You bailed on our performance, but you’re playing gigs in LA with Frank?” Anger seeps into my tone even though I don’t know what I’m pissed about. Maybe that we put all this work in, that I did this for her, and she walked away like it didn’t matter. “It’s not like that, Timothy.” I wish she was here so I could look her in the damned eyes, so I could grab her arms and tell her not to leave. “It’s something I need to do for myself. You were really great. I’m so proud of you.” She clicks off before I can argue. The street signs say I’m halfway between Vanier and my apartment, yet somehow I’m utterly lost. I’ve never stalked someone on social media before, but there’s a first time for everything. All day Saturday, I’m scanning Emily’s feeds. She doesn’t post often and is careful when she does, so it’s not surprising I come up empty, but Sunday morning, I switch to a new strategy. “Look at you, creeper.” I look up from the kitchen table as my roommate comes in the front door. “You can’t tell I’m a creeper from ten feet away.” “It’s called a logical inference. You were creeping when I left; ergo, you’re more than likely creeping still.” I glare at my roommate, holding up the phone. “There’s a picture of him on stage, the fucking prick. And she’s next to him.” He crosses to me, narrowing his gaze on the screen. “Ah. It took you a day to switch to the best friend’s feed? Rookie.” Emily’s not tagged, but I see her, and I want to throw the phone across the room. Jacob pulls a stack of mail out of his jacket pocket and passes me an envelope. “This came for you. I had to sign for it and everything.” Halfheartedly, I open it and glance inside. “E check for ten thousand dollars from the showcase.” I glance at Jacob’s lighter on the counter. “You are not burning that check,” Jacob drawls as he shrugs out of his coat and hangs it by the door. “You earned it. You lit that auditorium up, and no one who witnessed it could deny that fact.” I tug on my hair. “I don’t know why she’d work so hard for this, then bail. She wanted it. It was her moment too, her fucking song.” He drops into the chair across from me. “You really have no clue why she’d put you on that stage alone.” I straighten, not liking the sound of those words. “No. Tell me.” A guilty expression crosses his face. “I told her Zeke pulled your meeting. She knew you lost your shot because of her and Eddie and if she did the showcase, you might lose that too. She didn’t screw you, Ty. She saved you.” Emotions collide inside me—disbelief and frustration and longing. My head falls back on a groan. “Dammit, Jacob!” I shove out of my seat and grab my phone, hurling it across the room so it slams into the living room wall. I whirl to face him, staring him down as if this is his fault. “She wanted space, and I let her have it.” I stalk across the room, intending to grab the phone, but when I get there, I take a pillow off the couch and hurl it toward the kitchen instead. “How does she do this?!” I shout. Jacob eyes me as if he’s watching some strange creature never before discovered by humans as I continue to rant. “She’s always a mess of feelings. She can take it, but me? I can’t hold it in, wall it up, or shove it down.” I scan the room, feeling more than a little unhinged. But I know I could throw everything in this entire apartment and it wouldn’t be enough. “Fuck this. I’m going after her,” I decide. “I won’t be the guy who left her again.” I start toward the front door, but Beck grabs my shirt. “You’re not the guy who left her,” he says as I stop angrily next to him. “You’re the guy who’s giving her what she asked for.” “You want me to sit here like an asshole.” “Or you could deal with your damned emotions like everyone else.” He holds up a finger, telling me not to move. I exhale hard as he goes to my room, comes back with the guitar Emily bought me. Twenty-four frets. Rosewood. Made to fit in my hands. I take the neck in my hands, turn it over. It’s mine. Today, maybe it’s the only thing that is. I carry the guitar to the kitchen table and drop onto my seat. I don’t know what I want to play, but my fingers do until one song slips into the next. In the spotlight, we need to bleed. We need to be broken. Eventually, the emotions rise to the surface, one chasing the next until I’m bent over the guitar. I’m playing and singing and who the hell knows what else, but I’m pouring all of me out, everything I can’t contain. When I lift my head, I see Jacob’s intent expression trained on me, along with the camera of his phone. I don’t care. I do the only thing I can. I play until my fingers are raw. ///////////////////////////////////////////// . LIPS OF AN ANGEL By: HINDER Honey, why you calling me so late? It's kinda hard to talk right now Honey, why you crying, is everything okay? I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud Well, my girl's in the next room Sometimes I wish she was you I guess we never really moved on It's really good to hear your voice saying my name It sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak And I never wanna say goodbye But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful With the lips of an angel It's funny that you're calling me tonight And, yes, I've dreamt of you too And does he know you're talking to me? Will it start a fight? No, I don't think she has a clue Well, my girl's in the next room Sometimes I wish she was you I guess we never really moved on It's really good to hear your voice saying my name It sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak And I never wanna say goodbye But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful With the lips of an angel It's really good to hear your voice saying my name It sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak And I never wanna say goodbye But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful With the lips of an angel And I never wanna say goodbye But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful With the lips of an angel Honey, why you calling me so late?