by Laura Miller
“I said I would, but it’s just a dance, Mona,” I said.
She shook her head.
“She’s the one,” she said, pointing at me. “Taylor’s a really nice girl, Will.”
“I just met her, Mona,” I said, through a patient smile.
“She’s the one,” she said again.
I gave her a disbelieving look.
“Just give her a chance, Will, for your little cousin on her wedding day,” she said, with a pleading smile.
“Mona, Taylor’s the one…,” I started but stopped short, as my eyes caught a familiar silhouette and my heart momentarily took a break from its beating.
“Julia,” I said, quickly sitting up.
“Hi, Will,” she said.
Jules planted her eyes in my gaze for a moment and then turned her attention to Mona.
“Hi, Mona,” she said. “You look beautiful.”
Mona shot me a suspicious look and then set her eyes on Julia. I, in the meantime, tried to relax my shoulders and to not look so obvious.
“Thanks, Julia. I’m so glad you made it,” Mona said, wrapping Jules into a big embrace. “And we’ll have to catch up, but right now, I’ve got to find the groom. They’re making us take more pictures, and this guy’s been holding me up,” she said, pulling away from Julia and gesturing toward me.
I sent Mona a puzzled look, but it didn’t seem to faze her as she hurried off to somewhere else and left Jules and me alone.
I took a second before I spoke.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” I said.
“I wasn’t either,” she replied.
She smiled and caught my stare.
The shock of my heart suddenly stopping moments ago was starting to fade, and my smile was returning.
“How long are you here?” I asked.
“Just tonight,” she said.
I glanced around.
“You here with anyone?” I asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
I cocked my head to the side.
“No,” she quickly said again, seeming to read my mind. “Brady had to work.”
“Oh,” I said. “You two still...”
I couldn’t even finish the sentence, damn it. I felt my mood changing fast. I tried to hide what I was sure was obvious disdain, as she nodded her head in confirmation.
Of course.
I sucked in an audible breath and then sat back.
“How is everything?” she asked.
I met her eyes again. Did she want me to be honest?
“It’s fine,” I lied.
She nodded her head again as her lips went back to a straight position on her face. But she held her eyes in mine. I could tell she was thinking something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
Then, I watched her carefully slide off her shoes and then tiptoe over the grass toward the bench I was sitting on and take a seat.
I glanced at the space in between us. It wasn’t the close I was used to associating with Jules, but it was a couple thousand miles closer than I got these days. So, in the end, the ten inches that separated us made me smile again.
“You look nice,” I said.
She looked up at me, and I watched as her lips broke into a sweet, sideways smile.
“Thanks,” she said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
I felt my grin growing wider, and suddenly, it didn’t matter that she was leaving again the next day. At least I had tonight.
I thought of something then—something I had been waiting to tell her.
“Hey, remember prom night our senior year and you said that you only had one wish in life?” I asked her.
She laughed.
“For New Milford to get a pizza place,” she said, bobbing her head.
Her gaze was straight ahead, and a pretty smile lingered on her lips.
“Well…,” I said.
“No,” she exclaimed, quickly angling her face back toward mine.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
She shoved my shoulder. It moved me only slightly, but it did cause my smile to grow wider.
“I can’t believe it,” she shouted.
“Believe,” I said.
“Where?” she asked.
“Downtown, next to the movie theater,” I said.
Her mouth was slightly frozen open. It looked sexy and playful all at the same time.
“Have you been?” she asked.
Her excitement made me laugh.
“I have,” I said, nodding my head. “It’s good.”
“I have to go,” she exclaimed and then paused.
I watched her stare fall to the shoes dangling from her fingertips.
“Next time,” she said, as her wide smile began to fade.
I nodded my head and felt my grin vanishing too.
“Next time,” I softly agreed.
There was silence for a moment again. And my eyes fell onto the dress she was wearing. It was green. It matched her pretty eyes. But it also reminded me of the green dress she wore to homecoming our junior year. We stayed up all night that night—her in my arms—and watched the sun come up in the morning.
“You’re in too many of my memories, Jules,” I said, as a grin fought its way back to my lips again.
Her eyes instantly fell into mine. And then, slowly, her eyebrows drew closer together and one corner of her mouth faintly rose.
“I have that same problem,” she said, softly laughing into the subtle breeze.
I held my gaze in her eyes, until her stare broke and returned to her hands and her shoes, now slowly swaying from side to side. Then, I sucked in a deep breath of cool air, and at the same time, felt my smile wane.
“How do you like it out there?” I asked.
I watched as her chest rose and then fell.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, sending me a quick glance.
A wide smile had returned to her face.
“But a different kind of beautiful than here,” she continued. “I mean, there’s a lot of traffic and a lot of people. But the ocean is perfect, and there are mountains, and there’s an orange tree in my neighbor’s front yard.”
“An orange tree, really?” I asked.
Her pretty eyes were big.
“I know, that’s what I said,” she exclaimed, nodding her head.
She looked so happy all of a sudden.
“And school?” I asked.
She laughed.
“It’s school—on steroids,” she said. “I just never thought that I could cram this much stuff into my brain at one time. It’s so much stuff.”
She emphasized the so, but she was smiling as she said it.
“You like it though?” I asked.
She nodded again.
“I do,” she said.
She paused then.
“What about you?” she asked. “How’s the job going?”
I nodded my head before I spoke.
“It’s great,” I said and meant it. “There’s always something going on. I like that about it.”
“Please, God, tell me there hasn’t been any more close calls,” she demanded.
I watched her eyelids fall over her eyes and her hand rush to her chest and cover her heart. Then, I softly chuckled to myself.
“No,” I reassured her. “No close calls, knock on wood.”
I knocked on the wooden arm of the bench.
“But I’ve also got my guardian angel,” I said, touching my hand to my heart.
She found my eyes again and smiled.
“There you are,” a voice suddenly called out from behind us. “You ready? You promised. This song.”
My eyes traveled toward the voice, as a girl with auburn hair planted her feet directly in front of Jules and me. She was smiling wide, and her head was cocked playfully in my direction. I glanced back at Julia and then back at the girl. And in that time, the girl’s eyes had fallen on Jules.
“Uh, Taylor,” I stuttered, trying to remember
her name again. “This is Julia. Julia, this is Taylor.”
I watched as Julia’s eyes widened a little and her lips fell slightly open.
“Taylor,” Julia repeated then, as if she were remembering something.
Taylor extended her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, in a Missouri-Bootheel twang.
Julia raised her hand to meet Taylor’s. Her smile was poised.
“You ready?” Taylor asked again, quickly redirecting her attention to me.
Everything in me was shouting no, as I stumbled onto Julia’s eyes again.
“Go,” she whispered, so softly that I was sure Taylor couldn’t hear it.
“The next one?” I asked her.
Jules smiled.
“Next time,” she said.
I hesitated. There was something in her voice that made me feel as if there wouldn’t be a next time. A sudden sadness took hold of my chest then and squeezed it tight. I almost told Taylor that I couldn’t leave Julia, but I didn’t. Julia was happy; I could tell. And there was a part of me that wondered if my interference would somehow shatter that happiness.
I reluctantly returned my gaze to Taylor. She shot me a wide grin, and then I slowly lifted myself up from the bench. But when I was on my feet again, I turned back and met Jules’s eyes one, last time. She smiled her beautiful smile, and I tried my best to force a smile too. Then, I begrudgingly followed Taylor to the dance floor.
...
The song ended, and immediately, I searched the faces on the dance floor for Julia. I didn’t see her, but I did see Rachel.
“Rach, have you seen Jules?” I asked, when I got close enough for her to hear me.
Rachel turned and met my eyes.
“She had to go,” Rachel said. “She’s got an early flight tomorrow—gotta get back to her big-city life. She doesn’t have time for us small-townies anymore.”
She elbowed my arm and giggled.
“God love her,” she went on. “Maybe she’ll take me with her next time.”
She eyed her boyfriend and deviously smiled.
Jon stared at her for a second. Then, without warning, he shrouded her in a big bear hug and squeezed her close to his side
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
Rachel giggled again and then dramatically sighed.
“Maybe another life then,” she said, staring back up at me.
I tried to force a smile, but in the end, I just didn’t have the strength. Everything in me was focused on Julia and on the one thought that was swirling endlessly around in my mind: How could I have let her get away again?
Chapter Thirty
One Step
“Is this the first time you boys have ever been inside a recording studio?” the thin man asked in a half-serious, half-joking tone.
We all looked at each other.
“Yes, sir,” I eventually said, nodding my head.
“Okay, well, you ready to record a song then?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Chris excitedly yelled.
The rest of us only nodded our heads and smiled wide.
“All right, let’s do it,” he said. “Drums first.”
We each took turns recording our own tracks, until it finally came to the vocals.
I stood there playing with the big headphones that threatened to engulf both sides of my head. I couldn’t hear anything in them except for the thin man’s voice, which would muffle through every once in a while.
My eyes eventually turned down, and I caught a glimpse of metal peeking out from in between my fingers. Her guardian angel was tightly pressed against my palm.
“Okay, Will,” I heard the man’s voice again. “I’m going to start the track.”
I looked through the glass to where the thin man was sitting and nodded my head.
A few seconds later, the music trickled through the big headphones, and I slowly brought my lips to the funny-looking microphone. I felt the words then grow in my stomach and then climb into my chest. They stayed there for a moment and then finally fell from my lips one by one—just like they had a hundred times before:
“I’m famous in this small town
For a ghost I cannot shake
They all know I’m talkin’ to you
But of it—I don’t think they know what to make
But they don’t see what I see
They don’t see you dance on the river walk,
Underneath the street lamps
With those stars in your eyes
They don’t see you
Lying next to me
Tellin’ me your dreams,
Planted somewhere up in those big skies
No, they don’t see what I see
Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn
And tonight I’ll see you again
Just like every night before
But they don’t see what I see
What I see is more
Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn.”
My lips hovered in front of the microphone as the last words of the ballad hit the black mesh and disappeared. But the music still played inside my big headset and filled my ears. I closed my eyes and took in each note, as a deep breath invaded my lungs. The song meant something to me, and I couldn’t sing it without feeling something too. I fought back the tightness in my chest as the small room eventually grew quiet again.
“That was great, Will,” I heard a muffled voice say into my ears. “I think we’ve got your single.”
A smile scurried to my lips. Those words sounded better together than I had ever imagined they could. I squeezed my fingers tightly around the guardian angel in my hand again, and suddenly, I felt one step closer.
Chapter Thirty-One
District 9
“What’s this all about?” Chris asked when he entered the room.
“Not sure,” Matt said.
Daniel, Matt and I were already seated around a big desk in a small office. There was a window that overlooked the street behind the desk. And on the desk, there were office gadgets resembling every piece of the music industry you could dream up—including a guitar that was also a tape dispenser and a microphone that moonlighted as a lamp. I took a deep breath. The room smelled like a mixture of that cologne Jesse always wore and some kind of weird smell that came from an air freshener contraption on a shelf filled with little glass trophies. The contraption made a noise every couple of seconds and then puffed out a misty fog. I watched the fog now as it followed a path to the desk and then eventually disappeared. Then, I caught Matt’s stare. He held his gaze on me until I shrugged my shoulders and sat back in my chair.
Jesse flew into the room seconds later in perfect Jesse fashion—quick and dramatic. He looked as if he were in a rush; but then again, he always looked as if he were in a rush.
“How’s it going, guys?” he asked, falling into the leather chair behind the big desk.
He always asked the same question. But we knew not to answer it. There was never enough time from when he asked it to when he started talking again.
“I’ve got this band that’s interested in having you guys as the guest artists on their album,” he quickly went on. “Have you guys ever heard of Ren Lake?”
We all looked at each other like this guy was suddenly going to grow a snout and wings and fly out of the room and take the dream with him. This went on for a few seconds.
“Is that the knock-off of the real Ren Lake or something?” Chris eventually asked, chuckling to himself and sending
us a quick glance.
We all kind of snickered, but Jesse just smiled and lowered his eyes to a spot on the surface of his desk.
“Good guess, but no,” he said, lifting his eyes again.
“Wait, you’re not telling us it’s the real Ren Lake?” Daniel asked.
Jesse’s mouth started to slowly turn up at its edges.
“I’m telling you there’s only one Ren Lake, and they want District 9,” he said.
The room instantly grew silent then. We all seemed to be studying the slender man facing us. Even I watched his every move: his every eye blink, the way he kept biting his bottom lip and furrowing his brow—as if he didn’t quite know what to make of our silence.
“Wow,” Chris eventually shouted. “Well, what did you tell them?”
Jesse paused for a moment.
“Well, I told them that I would have to talk to you guys first but that I think it would be a great fit.”
“Hot damn,” Chris shouted again.
He held his hand up in the air in front of Daniel, and Daniel high-fived it.
“So, what does this mean exactly?” Matt asked.
“Well, it means that you guys will be a part of Ren Lake’s new album, which means a lot more exposure for you. And we can never tell for sure where that exposure might lead, but the hope is that there will be more and bigger gigs, and in the future, possibly an album.”
“An album!” Chris shouted.
“Now, it would also most likely require significantly more time from you guys,” Jesse continued. “And I know you have the firefighter gig. I don’t know if, need be, you could take a leave of absence or something like that or even think about music as a career.”
Jesse sat back in his big, leather chair and smiled. I found Matt’s stare and then Daniel’s. Then, Jesse sat back up and shuffled some papers around his desk.
“But we can cross that bridge when we get there,” he said. “So, you guys in?”
We all looked at each other one more time. I tried to hold back a smile, but I couldn’t. And Chris and Daniel were already smiling when the corners of Matt’s mouth started to twitch upward.
“This only happens maybe once in a lifetime,” Chris said, his eyes big.
Matt shrugged his shoulders.
