Silent Music

by Aisling Magic

  CHAPTER 18

  PHOENIX

  “Stupid, idiot, imbecile …” I shout, wanting to tear the notepad.

  “You’re looking in the mirror, right?” Madison asks cheekily. Today her hair is in jagged, wild spikes that move in time to her dancing.

  It takes me a second to understand that it was a joke, and then I burst out laughing. This is my Madison. Ever since I woke from the coma, she has been so formal with me, like I’m not her sister but a stranger, but this, this is something that Madison would say to me—to her sister.

  “Yes!” Madison jumps around in excitement, shaking her ass. “Yes, yes, yes, I knew it.”

  “Now you’re worrying me,” I say, faking a shocked expression, but then a sober thought stops me. This is what the old Phoenix would have said—not me.

  But I am Phoenix. Nothing old, nothing new.

  She bounces on the bed with glee in her eyes. “I knew that you hated it when I was nice to you, but Daddy and Dad told me to be nice to you, so I was trying …” Madison confesses in rapid succession.

  Her confession makes me smile because it’s the truth. I hated how they were all treating me differently. It was like living with complete strangers. “Glad you got your senses back.”

  “Same,” she shouts and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

  I don’t really like it when someone touches me, but I resist the urge to stiffen my body. Closing my eyes, I try to savor this moment, but the hug feels odd. My body feels odd with Madison wrapped around me.

  “I missed you …” Madison whispers and I tighten my arms, reminding myself that it’s my body—changed, but still my body.

  “I guess I can say the same.”

  She extricates herself from my arms, but I’m glad to see that she’s still smiling.

  My phone chimes announcing a message.

  Kai: Hi.

  My smile vanishes as I read his name on the screen. I can’t believe I couldn’t say his name. It was there in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t get it to my lips—like something was blocking it. But then he looks so different now. His messy brown hair is lighter brown on the top and combed back, no longer falling on his eyes. His shoulders are more defined and gone is the boyishness—he’s a man.

  “Who’s it from?” Madison asks, snatching the phone from my hand. “Ooohhh, Kaaaiiii.”

  I take the phone back and look at the message. It displays along with all the other messages he’s sent every day since I’ve been home. They all say the same thing—Hi, but I haven’t replied to any of them because I didn’t feel like talking to him. And anyway, what was I supposed to say?

  “God, Phoenix, reply for fuck’s sake.”

  I groan. “I was … an idiot the other day. Can you believe I couldn’t say his name? It was there … in my mind, and I knew it started with K. I’ve said his name a thousand times … but I couldn’t … say it. Gah, I can’t explain it, Madison, but it was damn frustrating.”

  Madison’s brows furrow. “You couldn’t remember his name?”

  I nod, then shake my head no. It’s not that I couldn’t remember. “I mean I couldn’t remember it properly. It was here,” I say, pointing at my head, “but I just couldn’t say it. My brain froze.”

  “That’s so strange.” She frowns. “According to the doctors, you were uttering his name when you were waking up.”

  “I know,” I reply, leaning my head on the bedpost. “It was when he touched me, Madison. Like everything inside me started going haywire. Nothing was making sense. I was … I was …” I can’t find the word, so using my hands to talk, I create an explosion sign.

  “Overwhelmed?”

  I nod. “Yes, I was that, and not in a good way.” For a moment when I heard his voice, I felt something. My sleeping butterflies woke up, stretched their wings in anticipation of testing flight, but then he touched me, and they all flew out the window. I release a tiring breath. “His presence unsettled everything I was trying to …”

  Damn, I can’t get the word.

  “What you stabilized?”

  It’s not the word I was looking for, but it’ll do. “Yeah … I hate when I can’t find a word.”

  “I can understand that. I think it’s when you get emotional that you struggle the most. Like we were speaking well until Kai, right?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “But sometimes it just doesn’t come.”

  Madison lays her hand on mine. “It’s something that happens to many people who’ve been in a state of coma, Phoenix.”

  “I know,” I say because Sanaa, my therapist, told me about it. “But experiencing it is annoying.” But truthfully, what I don’t tell Madison is what I felt when Kai had entered the room: shame. I was ashamed of how I looked. I was aware of each and every scar on my body, and my whole body trembled as I awaited his reaction. Waited for his repulse. At that moment, I’d hated that he waited for me these two years.

  I almost wish he hadn’t.

  Madison remains silent for a few seconds before bouncing once again, on the bed. “Okay, we’re digressing. You haven’t replied,” she says, pointing at the phone in my hand.

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to say anything except to apologize for what happened the other day. It’s not me. It’s my boggling mind.

  Madison rolls her eyes. “Say hi, Phoenix.”

  I know I’ve been rude by not replying to any of his messages so far, but this time it’s different. This guy waited for me for two years and made the first step to meet and I … I hurt him. So I owe him at least a reply. I press send before I can talk myself out of it again.

  Phoenix: Hi.

  “See, it wasn’t that bad, now was it?” Madison raises her brows.

  I smile. “Shut up.”

  The phone chimes again.

  Kai: I know it’s too soon, but I want to see you again.

  My heart thuds. The fact that he’s asking makes me feel sad. Kai used to just come over whenever he wanted.

  “What’d he say?” Madison asks, trying to snatch the phone again, but I stop her.

  “H-he wants to see me again.”

  “Then, what are you waiting for, idiot, say yes.”

  “It’s not that e-easy. I’m s-scared that I’ll react the s-same way I did the other day.”

  Madison knocks her forehead to mine. “Try, Phoenix. See what happens. This guy has been waiting for you for two years. He came to see you every week, kissing you like Prince Charming and hoping that one day one of his kisses would wake you up. Let him help heal you, Phoenix. Give him that.”

  I let Madison’s words sink in. “Okay,” I whisper, not because I think I need healing but because, as Madison put it, Kai has been around for two years.

  I guess I owe him at least one meeting.

  Phoenix: Ok.

  Holding my breath, I wait for Kai to reply.

  Kai: Let me take you to dinner …

  Dinner? Outside the house? That doesn’t sound like a good idea.

  Madison leans toward the phone, reading the message. “What are you waiting for? Say yes.”

  I look at Madison. “I’m not s-sure.”

  Her smile fades. “Why?”

  “He wants to meet outside the … house.” I know it’s a lame excuse, but there’s something inside of me that doesn’t want to meet with him—ever.

  Madison laughs. “It’s a good thing. For once, you’ll get your ass out of this house, and I’ll be able to get some cleaning done. And if you don’t say yes, I’ll steal all your tampons and will not buy you new ones.”

  Throwing my head back, I burst into laughter. I guess, for old times’ sake, I can at least meet up with him.

  Phoenix: Ok.

  The phone chimes again.

  Kai: Be ready on Sat at 7:00 p.m. And, Phoenix, please wear red.

  Phoenix: Ok.

  Madison huffs and rolls her eyes. “I think you were serious about losing those words. The only one left is okay.”

  I ignore her
again, asking a question of my own. “Do you think the red dress Dad gave me for my last birthday would be nice?” Thinking about the dress, I realize two birthdays have passed, uncelebrated. I’m not even sure if the dress will fit now.

  Madison clears her throat. “About that dress? It’s nonexistent now.”

  When I opened my closet after coming home, I did notice that half of it was gone, but was too tired to care. “What? What’d you do?”

  “Hey, it was there, and you weren’t here to wear it, so I did.”

  “I go into hi-hiber-nation for two years, and you steal my things?”

  Madison laughs. “I love how you’re calling it hibernation now. But yes, no one was using them, so I did. I looked really hot in it.”

  Madison and I have been sharing our stuff since we started living together—it’s a sister thing—but I’m irritated that she used my stuff when I was gone. I wasn’t dead. “Wait, you’re not my size. I mean, not the size that I was. How the hell did you wear it?”

  “Like a whore …” We chuckle. “I reworked it with a little cut here and there.”

  Bitch! I take a deep breath. “You … hell.”

  “Yeah, I’m good with a sewing machine.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Care to explain how it’s gone now?”

  Madison bats her lashes. “Emmanuel tore it one night in passion.”

  Now I really have no words.

  •••

  “How are you, Phoenix?” Sanaa asks as Dad wheels me in the room.

  “Good.”

  Dad places a hand on my shoulder and presses a kiss on the side of my head. “I’ll be outside, okay?”

  I nod, and he leaves the room.

  Sanaa takes her place behind the table and holds her pen between her two fingers. “How are your other therapies going?”

  “Good,” I reply. They’re getting better. My speech therapy is going better than I thought it would. A month earlier, I couldn’t form words properly. And now I slur most of the time and speak with lots of pauses, but at least I can speak in full sentences.

  “Shall we begin?”

  I nod.

  “First, tell me, how do you feel compared to what you were feeling a month ago?”

  I think about her question. “I feel a lot now.”

  “A lot how?”

  “Sometimes I feel nothing but other times I feel ashamed … afraid … sad … lonely … and so angry. And sometimes I jump from one mood to another. Why?”

  She blinks like she was expecting me to ask this question, and she had her answer ready. “Because you’re making progress—earlier you were in shock and denial, and you weren’t feeling things because you were just out of a coma and there were so many changes to get used to. Instead of having all these overwhelm you, your brain denied it. And now you’re starting to accept the changes around, and therefore, you’re experiencing different emotions.”

  “Will I feel what I used to feel about everyone I know?”

  Her eyes soften, and her lips spread in a tiny smile. “I don’t have the answer to that, Phoenix. I guess we have to see whether there are any changes.”

  That wasn’t very helpful, and another dilemma goes into my pile of answerless questions. “I’m s-seeing Kai this Saturday,” I whisper. I have no idea why I’m telling her this, but I do. Maybe because I want to let her know that I’m not moping myself sitting at home.

  Her eyebrows jump before settling back. This may be the first reaction that she didn’t orchestrate to have for this session, and her reaction makes me suppress a smile. And maybe feel a little victorious.

  “And how do you feel about that?” she asks, leaning on the table.

  I shrug. “Maddie sort of … t-talked me into it,” I admit.

  Her eyebrows are brought together. “And how do you feel about seeing him again?”

  I gulp not wanting to admit the truth, but since I started this conversation, I reply, “I’m s-scared.”

  “Scared? Why?” She sounds genuinely perplexed. Are shrinks supposed to show this much reaction to patients?

  “Because I think I’ll h-hurt him again,” I admit, shocking myself with my words. Even though I didn’t feel what I used to feel for Kai, I still didn’t like that I hurt him the other day.

  “And why’d you agree to go on this date with him? You could have refused even when Madison forced you,” she asks.

  I could have, maybe. “Because I owe him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because … well, I think … because … I once … l-loved him.”

  CHAPTER 19

  KAI

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and ring the doorbell. My fingers comb through my hair one last time before Madison opens the door.

  “Hi.” I pull her in for a hug. “Where’s she?” I ask, trying not to let my voice shake.

  Madison cracks a smile. “You’re nervous?”

  I walk inside, and Madison closes the door behind me. “Am I that obvious?”

  “You are, and she’ll hate it,” Madison says. Looking around, she lowers her voice to a near whisper. “She hates being treated differently. If you’re too cautious or treat her like she’s changed too much, you’ll make her angry. So act like the Kai she fell for—the guy she was ready to set fire to the library with.”

  Of course she knows about the library kiss.

  “Hey …”

  I turn around at the sound of Phoenix’s voice. She’s wearing a red dress and has her hair pulled back in a high bun with some tendrils caressing her cheeks. She’s wearing her glasses, which make her look cute, and the marks from the accident on her face are hidden by makeup. The ones on her neck are deeper than those on her face, so the makeup doesn’t hide them all.

  “You look … beautiful,” I say, the words getting stuck in my throat as I stare at her lips. Those red lips melt into the most beautiful smile this world has seen, and my chest makes an extra effort to take air in.

  “Thanks,” she says through her smile.

  Eric wheels her to me. “Take care of our girl, will you?”

  I nod and wheel her to my car. Once the door is open, I lift her from the chair and place her in the passenger seat. “Sorry you have to do this,” she apologizes.

  “If you’re going to apologize for everything that I’ll be doing tonight for you, I suggest you record that apology on your phone and just press play,” I joke. That beautiful smile is back, but then something changes in her eyes.

  I get into my seat and start the engine. Before coming here tonight, Adam already mentioned that Phoenix doesn’t feel comfortable in cars and she panics if one is driving at high speed or if there’s an abrupt break. But even though I’m driving at low speed, Phoenix’s body is tense, and she’s looking everywhere but at the road, so I give her the space she requires as I drive.

  Parking, I kill the engine and turn to her. “Are you ready?” I ask.

  She turns to me and nods with a smile. I want to kiss that smile, but I don’t want a repeat of what happened the other day, so I clear my throat and get out of the car.

  After placing her carefully in the wheelchair, I roll her toward the restaurant, when we’re stopped by a man selling flowers on the street. “Buy a flower for the lady?” he asks, raising the basket of colorful flowers.

  “But the lady is more beautiful than the flower …”

  The man smiles, tilting his neck. “Then do the flower an honor by presenting it to the lady.”

  Phoenix adjusts her glasses and chuckles.

  “You and your flowers made my lady laugh, so I’ll buy them just for that,” I say, removing my wallet.

  The man takes a red flower from his basket, but I shake my head. “I want the whole basket,” I exclaim, handing him more money than I know it’s worth.

  The man takes off his hat, bows, and leaves whistling as I give the basket to Phoenix. “The flowers will feel prettier if they’re with you ...”

  She takes the basket with a small s
mile, and we enter the restaurant. As we step inside, we’re greeted by soft piano and cello music, accompanied by clinking cutleries. I’ve been here several times with Mom, and she loves the beige and brown coloring of this place, but the chandeliers are the ones that never fail to make her eyes shine. The reason I brought Phoenix here is that the atmosphere, ambiance, and service not only enhances their food but also helps the conversation flow smoothly instead of serving as a distraction.

  The maître d’ meets us at the door and guides us to our table. He removes a chair so Phoenix can take its place. “Are you comfortable?” I cringe. I’m doing exactly what Madison warned me about. But thankfully, Phoenix doesn’t seem to mind. She nods, placing the basket on the table.

  I roll my sleeves up, and Phoenix’s gaze falls on my tattoos. The amount of ink on my arms has grown over the past two years. Most of my new tats are lyrics swirled in some drawings and symbols from my songs.

  “They look good,” she says quietly.

  “Thanks.”

  After ordering, I try to keep a light conversation, but she only hums in response. I stop trying and focus on the food instead. Once we finish, I ask, “Will you have dessert?”

  She shakes her head and turns to look at the couples dancing. The musicians are playing soft tunes, and even though there are no dance floors, some couples came forward—near the musicians, and start to slow dance.

  “Look who we have here.”

  My body tenses as I turn toward the voice—Amberson. The prick whose balls Madison kicked in high school.

  “Hey, man.” He pushes his hand forward for me to shake, and I notice Sydney next to him. What are they doing here? Shit. If we weren’t in the restaurant I’d just ignore them, but Amberson and Sydney aren’t afraid of making a scene, so I shake Amberson’s hand to keep him quiet.

  “Phoenix … it’s so great to see you—alive ...” Sydney grits sweetly. Phoenix nods but doesn’t smile. My body remains tense as these two stare at each other. You know that churning sensation that you have in your stomach when you feel that things are going to get worse? That’s what I’m feeling right now.

  “Is that a wheelchair?” she asks, and my head swings to Amberson, glaring at him to make Sydney stop. But he ignores my warnings and looks back at Syndey—pride shining in his eyes. “Look, she’s on wheels …” Sydney whispers loud enough for everyone around us to hear. “Dear … that’s terrible, Phoenix,” she comments with a slight smirk on her face.