“More like saved,” I said under my breath.
“Your parents are so funny.”
“Yes, they are.” I pushed open the door to my bedroom and picked up my guitar. “Now, I need your help. You are the lyricist for our band, right? I need to finish this song in two days and my inspiration has run out.”
Cade grinned. “I thought you said that I inspired you.”
“I’m counting on it. Now sit there where I can see your cute face and help me think of words.”
He sat in the chair, his gorgeous smile in place.
“Okay. Let’s get to work.”
One hour later I put down the guitar.
“You’re as bad as my sister,” I groaned. “Your lyrics aren’t any better in person than they were in letters.”
“That’s a good lyric: You’re no better in person than you were on paper.”
I laughed. “Just stop. Come on. I know you can help me for real here. I just need the chorus to flow better.”
My notebook sat next to me on the bed. I’d been using scratch paper to try to work out the song instead of writing down words only to cross them out in the book.
Cade leaned forward and picked up my notebook. “Can I look?”
My heart raced. I could do this. The worst had already happened. Sasha had read my lyrics to the entire school and people had actually liked them. Little did she know that her attempt to hurt me had actually ended up giving me a confidence boost. “Yes.”
Cade smiled, like he knew how hard that was for me. “Thank you.”
“No mocking me.”
“But I’m so good at that.”
“Oh and there’s a mean song in there about you. I was mad.”
He laughed and sat down on the floor, his back against Ashley’s bed across from me. “Of course there is.” He flipped through the pages as I continued to write. “Monsters in trees?”
I moved to the floor, sitting against my bed, letting my legs stretch out in front of me and intertwine with his. “I said no mocking.”
He chuckled and my breath caught at the sound. I watched him as he read, the line of his jaw relaxed, his hair flopped onto his forehead, his fingers poised to turn another page. And I started to write. My pencil flew across the paper beside me.
Words brought us together though they almost kept us apart.
You trusted me with your secrets and then you stole my heart.
They say that love is rare, like …
“What’s rare?” I asked.
“What?” His eyes lifted from the page and met mine.
“What are some things that are rare?”
“Meat?”
I laughed. “We’re more alike than you know.”
His gaze softened as he stared at me. “Love?”
I smiled and pressed my knee against his. “I already used love, I was trying to compare it to something else.” I tapped my pencil on the page, biting my lip.
His eyes went back to my notebook. “This is really good.”
“Which one?”
“You know which one. You need to use it for the competition.”
“I can’t, Cade. It’s yours.”
“It’s raw. It’s real. It’s perfect. Do you have music for it?”
I nodded, the melody immediately coming into my head.
“Will you play it for me?”
I blushed. “I don’t really perform. I just write. These words were always meant for someone else to perform them.”
“Will you play it for me?” he asked again.
I held my hand out for the notebook and he placed it there. “I actually have a second verse for it that’s not in here.” I pulled a page out of my nightstand drawer, immediately nervous to share.
“I won’t look at you if that will help,” Cade said as though reading my mind.
I pulled my guitar off the bed. “Yes. That will help.”
But when I started to play, I couldn’t help but look at him and when his gaze found mine, it only proved to calm me. I sang the lyrics by heart.
“I’ve turned waiting into a form of art Tied twisted lines around my broken heart To keep me hanging on for one more day I’ve painted on a crooked smile
Hung the tears to dry awhile
Because I knew that you’d come back to stay But my … arms are empty
And my … heart’s in pieces
And my … soul is twisting
And my … throat is aching
Because I’ve finally woken up to find: That I’ve been Left Behind.”
As I started in on the second verse, my emotions closed my throat a little, making my voice husky.
“I’m done with this waiting game
My heart may never be the same
But it’s time to live my life and move on.
This may have made me stronger now.
Even though I’m not quite sure how
I think it may be good that you are gone.
So my … arms are reaching
And my … heart is healing
And my … soul is hoping
And my … throat is screaming
Because I’ve finally woken up to find: I can’t be Left Behind.”
I transitioned into the bridge, his soft stare encouraging me.
“I needed you. I wanted you. I tried to please you, but that’s no way to live. It’s all up to me now, and if I see you again soon, maybe you’ll stay … ”