Solo

went by

before I looked up, and there she was sitting

in the chair

across from me, her legs

with dancer calves entwined

like twin yellow flowers.

Her skin, amber sun.

And those pretty blue eyes just watching me like she cared.

Amazing. Keep playing, she said. Don’t let me interrupt you. And then she got up, sauntered off

glancing over her shoulder, leaving me

thunderstruck.

Those eyes.

Those blue eyes.





Later, I bumped into Storm


in the kitchen, making grapefruit and vodka smoothies for her already drunk friends, and she introduced me to the new girl in school.

Those eyes.

My name’s Chapel, but you can call me American Woman, she said, winking at me.

Your brother’s a musical genius, she continued, at which Storm laughed.

Yeah, he’s a legend in his own mind!

Chapel winked at me again, and just as I was about to turn and leave,

she reached in my pocket, grabbed my phone, and took a selfie then texted herself

the photo.

That was the moment I knew.

And I stayed up all night

writing a song about it.





Trance


Well?

Huh?

Where’d you go?

Just thinking.

About what?

I don’t know—everything, graduation, family. I’m just worried.

Family sucks.

So true.

Is he coming to graduation?

Yep. He says he’s been clean for nine days.

That’s great.

Yup.

Tomorrow, this time, you’ll be a college freshman.

Actually, I’ll be in-between. No longer high school, not yet college.

No longer, not yet.

At least we’ll be together every day then.

You’ll have me whenever you want.

That’s why I love you.

Okay then, sing my favorite song, please.

Chapel, I really don’t feel like— Blade, are you my heart?

Uh, yeah!

Then sing to me . . . Van would have.

Let’s not talk about your untalented, nefarious, wack ex-lover.





Chambers


if I am your heart

imagine me inside

beating, pumping, loving





Relentless


Don’t haiku me, Blade. I want an epic.

I don’t have my guitar.

You always have your guitar.

It’s in the car, but I—

I’ll get it, she interrupts, jumping

off the hammock so fast,

I tumble and eat dirt.





Excuse Me


Excuse me

I mean, what did you say?

I’m sorry

I’m just a little blown away ’Cause your eyes . . . Oh, your eyes.

Excuse me,

Didn’t quite get that

You talking to me?

I just gotta get my breath ’Cause your eyes . . .

Your eyes, they mesmerize me Yes, your eyes hypnotize me Your eyes are . . .

Bluer than the deepest part of the deep blue sea Excuse me

I don’t mean to intrude

I’m sorry

Your eyes are too blue

Forgive me

I just wanted to be sure

Your eyes, that shade.

Isn’t that what they call azure?

’Cause your eyes . . .

Your eyes, they mesmerize me Yes, your eyes hypnotize me Your eyes are . . .

Bluer than the deepest part of the deep blue sea I’m sorry

I don’t wanna take your time I have to say this

And I hope that you don’t mind Your eyes, they mesmerize me Yes, your eyes hypnotize me Your eyes are . . .

Bluer than the deepest part of the deep blue sea Excuse me

I don’t mean to intrude

I’m sorry

Your eyes are too blue

Forgive me

I just wanted to be sure

Your eyes, that shade,

Don’t they call that azure?

’Cause your eyes are mesmerizing Your eyes are hypnotizing, Your eyes are truly drowning me I’m drowning in a blue that’s way bluer than the deep blue sea ’Cause your eyes . . .

Your eyes are mesmerizing

Your eyes are hypnotizing

Your eyes are drawing me to you ? BLADE MORRISON





She Melts Right in Front of Me


That was beautiful.

Thanks.

It really makes me feel special when you play for me.

You are special.

Here’s your phone. Come kiss me.

What are you doing with my phone?

You left it in your car.

Oh. Thanks.

Why is Principal Campbell blowing your phone up?

Huh?

Come here, babe.

Let me ask you a question.

Enough talking. Hurry up and kiss me. They’ll be home soon.

Aren’t you sick of sneaking around?

The alternative sucks.

True.

We should just run away.

I would do that in an LA second. I love you, Chapel.

Then come over here and let me mesmerize you.

First, let me check my phone. Dude left me like five messages.

Seriously, Blade. Now you’re all patient.

Just gimme a sec.





Voice Mail


Blade, this is

Principal Campbell calling you about twelve hours before you march

across the stage.

Congratulations!

You’ve overcome

some serious odds, and I’m sure

your family is proud.

So, I’m calling because I’m afraid that

our valedictorian Alice Johnson

has been bitten

by a mosquito,

and her face

has blown up

the size of

a cantaloupe.

Thusly, she refuses to stand

in front of

the graduating class and their families to deliver

tomorrow’s commencement speech, which means

the salutatorian

will have to fill in.

What do you say?





Salutatory


Blade! WHAT? You’re going to deliver the speech! I’m so proud of you. Of us.

Of what? I haven’t written anything yet. So don’t be too proud.

You’ll be amazing.

Not if I don’t get home and write the thing.

Stay here with me. I can help you.

Write an entire speech before your parents find us? Not likely.

Who says it has to be a speech. It could be a song.

Hmmm. That might be cool.

You could write one about me.

. . . .

(I laugh.)

(She pouts.)

I’m serious.

Babe, it may not be the audience for that kind of love song.

But it would be the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me. And people would be talking about it for months.

Let me think about it. But first, I should really get home and actually write it.

Fine.

Just know I won’t sleep one millisecond tonight because I’ll be thinking about you the entire time, Chapel.

Okay. Make us all want to sing with you, babe.

I grab

my guitar

and kiss her goodbye.

Tell your dad to pray for the salutatorian, just don’t mention his name.





I wonder if anyone has


ever delivered

a graduation speech with

a six-string guitar?





Close One


I pull out of

the driveway,

onto the street,

and duck

as far

as I can

’til I’m barely able

to see

her father’s black Mercedes

turn the corner

and pull into

the driveway.

Whew, that was a close one.





Secret


Chapel’s father forbade her to see me

after Rutherford got arrested again

last year,

for crashing into a stop sign inches away from two kids crossing the street.

He was lit

and careless and it was all over the news.

He is runnin’ with the devil.

They will destroy themselves.

They will not destroy you.

This is not up for discussion.

You. Are. Never. To See. Him. Again.

And so we sneak.





I Can’t Say I Blame Him


My family

stands for

too much

and not enough.

Too much celebrity not enough dignity.

Kwame Alexander, Mary Rand Hess's books