Playing Patience

by Tabatha Vargo

  Between the depression and not playing sports anymore, I gained five pounds and my jeans started to get snug. I’m sure it had more to do with the ice cream I used to soothe my pain, but at least it was better than drugs and alcohol.

  My high school diploma was forwarded to me a few days after that and I was happy to have it, but I was thinking college would definitely have to wait. I didn’t want to think about school or sports. I just wanted to wallow in my crappy life.

  Months went by and while I was starting to feel more alive, I was still followed around by the black cloud of sadness. It was made worse the day I heard Blow Hole’s first song on the radio. The guitar stuck out to me more than Finn’s loud voice. Damn, I missed Zeke.

  Six months later, Sydney was comfortable in seventh grade at her new school and I was working double shifts at the restaurant. My aunt received money to care for Sydney, so some money was there, but somehow working made things better, kept my mind occupied.

  I was at work when I overheard some girls at a table talking about the rock festival that was coming to Orlando. She threw out the names of the different bands that were coming.

  I was wiping down a table that just left without a tip and my hand paused when I heard her say the name Blow Hole. I left the table and rudely interrupted their conversation.

  “Excuse me, did you just say Blow Hole was going to be at some rock festival?”

  The girls looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was, but love made you do crazy things.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s this weekend. The tickets are still for sale I think.”

  I didn’t even listen to the rest. I turned and went for my purse. I told Gladys, the lady who owned the place, that I had a family emergency and then I drove home as quickly as possible so I could get on my aunt’s computer.

  I Googled rock festivals in Orlando and, sure enough, it was there. I bought a ticket to Orlando Rockfest with plans of hopefully seeing Zeke. For the first time in months, I felt like I had something to look forward to. I felt happy. I just hoped it wasn’t too late and I really hoped he wasn’t seeing someone new and had forgotten about me.

  Since I was going to Rockfest alone, I waited until later in the afternoon when Blow Hole was planning to go out. My fair skin and the Florida sun didn’t like each other very much. I’d already suffered four bad burns since I moved there.

  When I got there, the band before Blow Hole was still playing. I stopped by a drink stand and grabbed a bottle of water and then pushed my way through the crowd with hopes of getting as close as possible to the stage. I could only hope he’d be able to spot me in the large crowd and I prayed if he did spot me, he wasn’t so upset with me that he’d ignore me.

  When he and boys came out on stage, the night sky lit up with lights and the girls went crazy. It was then that noticed all the “I’m a freak for Zeke!” T-shirts the girls wore. I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was totally jealous.

  Once they started playing, it was near impossible to get to the stage. Girls swarmed and a mosh pit formed right in the front center. No matter how bad I tried, I couldn’t squeeze myself through. Finally, I gave up. If this was going to be the last time I ever got to see him, then I wanted to actually see him.

  The entire time so far I’d spent trying to move closer and I had yet to just stop and look at him. I missed him so much and I had no pictures of him. I was starting to forget what he looked like.

  I took in his dark jeans and ripped T-shirt. His midnight bangs hung down into his face as usual and the light kept catching his facial piercings and making him shine. He was gorgeous. He was everything I ever wanted and I’d pushed him away and ran from everything he stood for.

  I smiled when I saw he was still using the guitar I got him and I smiled even wider when I was able to see a tiny spot on his forearm from far away that I knew was my snowflake, but the longer I stood there, the more I realized that what I was trying to do was impossible. I should’ve been smart and came earlier. I should’ve braved the hot Florida sun for Zeke. At least that way I would’ve been guaranteed a front spot and could’ve got his attention.

  Their last song was playing about the time I felt myself start to tear up. I’d failed and it was so hard to see him so close yet so far away. He was right there, yet I couldn’t touch him.

  When their set was over, they said their goodnights and left the stage. Watching him walk away was so hard. Knowing I’d lost my chance was even harder. I turned to leave in hopes of getting out before the swarms of people headed to the parking lot.

  This whole thing was a bad idea. If anything, I was leaving feeling worse than I did before, but I had to at least try. Zeke had been responsible for putting me back together and now I was more broken than I was when I first met him. I didn’t need him to live, but he sure as hell made me feel alive.

  It was pitch black outside once I was far enough away from the show. People sprinkled the parking lot. A girl was throwing up next to her car and it made my stomach turn.

  I passed by a bunch of buses and I thought maybe I could catch him on the way back to his bus, but there were so many people already lined up there, so I didn’t even bother. I was exhausted and ready to just go home.

  I was walking back to my car when suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows and pulled me into the darkness between two buses. They shoved their hand over my mouth and pressed me up against the back of a bus. It was so dark I couldn’t see anything.

  The person holding me pressed their large body against mine and softly pushed a lock of hair out of my face before running a hot finger down my cheek. Warm, minty breath struck my lips as he moved his face close to mine and nuzzled my chin.

  Great, I was being raped by a romantic. Then I heard a familiar deep chuckle and I felt happiness bloom throughout my entire body.

  “Damn, snowflake, if you get any hotter you’ll melt.”

  And then his hand was gone and his lips were on mine.

  Twenty-Seven

  Zeke

  My dreams were coming true. The guys and I were getting everything we wanted. A damn good record contract was signed with LA Records and we had to move to California. We were in the middle of recording our first record. It should’ve been the happiest time in my life, but everything felt wrong.

  Leaving the East Coast without being able to say good-bye to my snowflake was by far the hardest thing I’d ever done. I called and texted until I couldn’t call and text anymore and then finally her phone was disconnected. I searched for her and even asked Megan what the deal was, but nothing. It was as if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth and I felt like I’d disappeared with her.

  When I was packing to leave for California, I found her happy meal Optimus Prime toy and I cried a little. I wasn’t much for crying. To me, crying was for weak assholes, but sometimes something would send me over the edge. A cheap McDonald’s toy did the trick that day.

  Another thing that killed me was my guitar. I used to love my guitar, but now every time I played it I thought about Patience. I could’ve bought a new one, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. As much as it hurt to play it, it hurt more when I thought about sticking it in a closet.

  The first time I heard one of our songs on the radio, it should’ve been a beautiful moment, but all I could think about was whether or not Patience would hear it.

  “Dude, you played the wrong chord again.” Finn complained. “Snap the hell out of it, man.”

  The guys were constantly complaining since I kept screwing up. It was so unlike me and I couldn’t let it continue any longer, so I pushed back all of my memories of Patience and swallowed down my emotions. I delved deep into the music and forgot about everything else.

  I pretended to be happy, smoked entirely too much weed, and drank like a fish. When the guys brought home girls, I flirted and fooled around often, but I could never bring myself to have sex with any of them. It was a tragedy what Patience had done to me. I was more broken now than I was before she fixed
me.

  Months went by and soon I only thought about her every few hours versus every minute of every day. When we were invited to Rockfest in Orlando, Florida, I was excited, but more so because I knew by being on the East Coast again, I was also going to be close to Patience. It was a never-ending cycle of emotions that I was sick of being on.

  When it was time to go to Orlando, I slept through most of the plane ride. Sleeping was my favorite thing. When I wasn’t playing, getting high, or partying, I was sleeping.

  A wall of humidity slammed into us when we got off of the plane. We were put in a nice-ass hotel close to Disney World for the week so we spent that week getting drunk off our asses and hanging out at all the kickass clubs in Orlando. Four single guys could get into some serious trouble around these parts, and I should’ve been enthralled by all the beach bodies surrounding me.

  Women were everywhere trying to get a piece of me, yet I went to bed alone every night while I listened to the guys in their rooms with whatever girl they brought back to the hotel. It was hell.

  By the time the weekend came and we were setting up for Rockfest, the weather was starting to cool to a nice ninety degrees. I was still hot, but just not hot as fuck. There was a big difference. The crowds came in swarms and we were set to play later in the day. I hung out with other bands behind the stage setup and smoked way too much weed.

  Once it was time for us to go up, the crowd had doubled. More than half the people were drunk and burnt from being out all day in the Florida sun. Women were on men’s shoulders with their tops off and the smell of weed circulated around the crowd.

  People jumped up and down with our music while Finn dominated the crowd. Girls with T-shirts that said, “I’m a freak for Zeke!” jumped around without bras on in the front row. I nodded down at them to let them know I hadn’t missed them, and they smiled and blew kisses up at me.

  It was a good show.

  The sky was turning black as night set in and the area became cooler. When we played our last song, sadness settled over me because I knew we’d be leaving the East Coast in two days and I’d once again be thousands of miles away from wherever Patience was.

  I scanned the crowd once more as I played my final solo for the night and I was caught off guard by a flash of platinum hair. One minute it was there and the next it was gone. I was positive I was seeing things when suddenly the crowd cleared once again and my eyes collided with Patience.

  She stared back at me with wide eyes and an aggravated look on her face. She looked different, thicker in some places and tanner, but she was just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. I continued to play as I watched her struggle to get to the front and then finally she gave up and stared at me. From so far away I couldn’t see her eyes, just as I’m sure she couldn’t see mine, but my heart felt her presence and it took everything I had in me to stay put on that stage.

  I lost her in the crowd and wasn’t able to locate her blond hair again. Once we were off the stage, I attempted to go through the crowd and try to find her, but I could barely move it was so packed, and I kept getting stopped by drunk girls who kept trying to rub their tits on me.

  We followed the crowd to the buses and I was on the verge of losing it. She was so close. She was there and I couldn’t see her or get to her. I was almost in the bus when I saw her cutting a path through the parking lot. I put my head down and slipped through the crowd and hid in the darkness between our bus and the one in front of it.

  Once I saw her walk past, my soul sang with joy. I reached out and pulled her to me. I didn’t want her to scream and call attention to us, so I covered her mouth with my palm. I could hardly believe she was here in my arms, and I vowed that no matter what happened over the last months, she’d never leave my arms again.

  Years of shadows and darkness were erased in that very moment. I held my source of freedom in my arms and I could already feel the heat from her light against my skin.

  Her breath was heavy as she struggled against me, but once she realized it was me and she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back, I knew things would never be bad again.

  Epilogue

  I watched with a smile as Blow Hole was interviewed by the DJ of a local radio station.

  “So, Zeke, we get a lot of questions in about some of your tattoos. I was wondering if you could tell us what the three snowflakes on your forearm represent.”

  Zeke grinned over at me and lifted his arm onto the counter in front of him to show the DJ his tat.

  “The big one here is for my girl. When we first started dating she reminded me of a snowflake princess, so I started calling her snowflake. I still call her that now. The two smaller ones are for our two daughters. They’re just a blond and beautiful as she is.”

  “Snowflake, huh?” the DJ asked. “It’s a wonder she doesn’t melt in this California heat.” He laughed.

  Zeke’s eyes met mine from across the room and the love that lived there sparked. The side of his mouth tilted up in a knowing smile.

  “Well, we went through the depths of hell to be together. If she hasn’t melted yet, I don’t think she ever will.”

  “Snowflakes in Hell”

  By Blow Hole

  Lost in the dark, I stopped fighting it.

  This is my world; this is my home.

  Loss of air, wishing to forget,

  It breaks me down, crushing bone.

  There’s no breeze; there’s no sun,

  Just this need to escape.

  There’s no end to what I’ve begun.

  Too far gone, it’s too late.

  I’ll drag you down, hold your breath.

  With me, you’re going under.

  Escape my desired death.

  Save yourself from dangerous hunger.

  Chorus:

  Can you see the broken parts of me?

  They breed in my dark place, then leave without a trace.

  There’s a hole within my shadowed soul.

  It’s on your fingertips and dances on your lips.

  In my depths, I already know.

  I should never feel your glow.

  A selfish thing to tell.

  I want snowflakes in my hell.

  I’ll scar your perfect skin,

  With black traces of my need,

  Engulf you fully with my sin,

  Make you wish that you were freed.

  Dreams become nightmares,

  Fueled by jealous rage,

  Rocked by my careless cares,

  Beg release from my black cage.

  Dig deep inside your center,

  Rot you from within.

  A game without a winner,

  No beginning gives no end.

  Chorus:

  Can you see the broken parts of me?

  They breed in my dark place, then leave without a trace.

  There’s a hole within my shadowed soul.

  It’s on your fingertips and dances on your lips.

  In my depths, I already know.

  I should never feel your glow.

  A selfish thing to tell,

  I want snowflakes in my hell.

  Acknowledgements

  This is my third book, and still I have a hard time writing the acknowledgements. It’s hard to thank the massive amount of people who have helped me when it comes to my writing. I have so many supportive people in my life and for that I am truly blessed.

  First of all, I’d like to thank my girls—Melissa Andrea, Mary Smith, Jodie O’Brien, Amy Holmes McClung, Julia Hendrix, Kathryn Vanessa Spell Grimes, Shanora Williams, and Bree Foster High. All of you read Playing Patience before anyone else had their hands on it and I value your opinions so much. You girls and many others that I’ve met throughout this entire experience have become like sisters to me and I adore you all.

  To Regina Wamba, my lovely cover designer and dear friend, you’re amazing. There isn’t much more I can write here that everyone doesn’t already know, but I just want to say thank you for
everything. I’m grateful to have met such an amazing woman and talented artist.

  To my dear sweet editor, Cassie McCown, thank you for picking through my work and making it better. I look forward to working with you again in the future. I’m glad to say I have found an editor I trust—one that I can also call a friend. Thank you.

  To my family, I love you. You look past the piles of laundry that need to be done and you rarely complain about the quick meals that replace the home cooking you’re used to. I’m Mommy and Wife before anything else, but when I step into my office and I lose myself in my writing, you guys are still there waiting for me with a smile and hug and when I come out.

  Matthew I love you more than I could ever put into words, and words are kind of my thing. Ashlynn, my beautiful daughter, you’re my breath, the reason I do anything. I can only pray that I make you two proud. <3

  To my readers, YOU ROCK! Thank you for all of your kind words. I love you all!

  More from Tabatha Vargo

  Wicked Fate

  (Book One in the Wicked Trilogy)

  On the Plus Side

  (Book One of the Chubby Girl Chronicles)

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