Wasted Heart

by Nicole Reed

  “Sounds pretty damn good,” he says, surprising me.

  “Let’s get out of here then,” I tell him as we stand to walk out. He grabs his sunglasses and slides them on before leaving. On a last minute thought, I grab his guitar case and carry it into the hallway.

  “What are you doing with that, Syn?” He turns, grabbing the case from me.

  “Just bring it, okay? I’m not saying we are going to even open it. Humor me,” I tell him.

  “Whoa, hold up. Where are you guys heading?” Josh says, walking from the kitchen.

  “I’ll have him back sometime tomorrow,” I say, planning to march right by him.

  “Hold up. You can’t do that. Rhye has a mandatory curfew, and even though last night’s incident is going to be overlooked, it hasn’t gone unnoticed by the record label that he willingly missed curfew. And before you say anything, Syn, the record label surprised even me with how strict they are being about this. They want Rhye healthy for a tour, so all the rules still stand.”

  “Okay,” I say, noticing the fleeting disappointment in Rhye’s eyes before he hides it. “You have five minutes to meet us downstairs at my truck, or we are leaving anyway. I’m sure after having a slight change of heart this morning, you will take one for the team and be downstairs in five minutes. Right?” I’m playing dirty, using Josh’s own guilt against him. It’s scary to learn that, when it comes to Rhye, I’m not scared to pull all the punches. In fact, I’m protective over him, and the look in his eyes, staring at me right now, makes everything worthwhile.

  Rhye and I walk out, not saying anything on the ride down. I know his head hurts, and sometimes, the best moments spent together are the ones in cohesive silence. When I head to the parking area, where I have Old Blue parked, I hear Rhye’s low chuckle at his first look at her.

  “Hey now. That’s my baby you’re laughing at. I love her,” I whine, puffing my lower lip out.

  Running his hand down her heavily dented side, he laughs and looks at me. “So do I.”

  “Get in and hold on. She goes zero to sixty in two point five days,” I joke, climbing in.

  A loud rumble of laughter escapes him, and the sound makes my heart sprout wings to fly. It is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. It makes everything about last night and this morning worth it. Whatever he’s dealing with internally, we’ll work on together. I just have to get him where he trusts me enough to tell me.

  In my rear view mirror, I see Josh flying out the doors with an overnight bag. It hasn’t gone unnoticed by me that Rhye didn’t pack one. I’m not complaining. He looks entirely yummy naked. All that sinewy muscle…I couldn’t help but take in the entire package earlier in the shower.

  Josh looks around the parking lot. He skips over Old Blue several times before finally seeing us. I notice him roll his eyes.

  “I’m guess I’m riding bitch,” Rhye jokes, referring to riding in the middle of the truck seat.

  “Since I’ve already showered with you today, I’m picking you.” We both laugh.

  “Why doesn’t this surprise me?” Josh says, climbing in the truck.

  When I gas it, Old Blue backfires, making both of them jump high in their seats. I laugh and speed happily down the road. None of the guys voluntarily talk on the ride. No one asks where we are heading as we enjoy the autumn foliage. Well, I guess I’m the only one enjoying the view considering a glance to my right reveals they are both fast asleep. No wonder it’s so quiet.

  I called ahead earlier to ask a friend of mine to stock my cabin before we arrived. Rhye and I both need a change of scenery, and what better than twenty acres of beautiful, secluded land? Not many teenagers would even be interested in owning any property, much less this one, but I grew up on a farm with plenty of space, and I wanted that for myself. At the time, going to my dad’s house, didn’t feel like home. I was suffocated when I stayed there, so when my manager’s friend wanted to sell it, she got me a great deal.

  As I pull up to the log cabin, I give a quick thanks for the beautiful weather we are having. It’s perfect for what I have planned today. I turn off the truck and lean over to wake Rhye. His head is propped back against the glass, and as uncomfortable as he looks, he seems completely relaxed.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” I whisper in his ear.

  It must take my words a minute to register with him. He turns his head sideways to look at me, and I can barely see his eyes behind his sunglasses. I ache to remove them, but I don’t.

  “How do you feel about exploring my land with me today? Are you up to it?” I speak softly, knowing he may be too physically ill. “Otherwise, I have an extensive DVD collection, and I’m sure we can find something to lounge around and watch.”

  He doesn’t say anything at first. I watch him swallow before he asks, “What’s your angle, Syn? What do you get out of this?”

  I ache to tell him the truth. You. That’s it for me. He’s it for me. It sounds crazy, even to my ears. I’m nineteen, and he’s twenty-two, too young for anything to be serious. Our lives are so similar yet worlds apart. How do I fit between the drugs and the girls? Where do I factor between his music and his first love? So many unanswered questions.

  “Wait until you see how beautiful this land is. You’ll understand what I get out of it,” I say, scared to death to utter anything else. “But if you are feeling bad, I can always take a mental break and veg out in front of a movie. Your call, Rhye.”

  “Are we walking or what? I’m not up for any long treks through the woods,” he says, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “Heck no! I was thinking of maybe taking the Polaris Ranger out.”

  He glances up at me, and his eyes are still slightly dilated. “Mmm…,” he starts, “Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad. Let’s do it.”

  I smile and turn to hop out of the truck. Rhye follows and looks back at Josh, still sound asleep on the passenger side.

  “Let him sleep. I’ll crack the windows, and he’ll be fine. He’ll know to go up to the house when he wakes up. Come on. I’ll give you a short tour.”

  As soon as he steps out of the truck, I notice the shaking of his hands. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up, he smokes while following me up to the house. I’m so proud of everything here, and I want him to love it too. As far as I know, he would hate living in a small log cabin on tons of land. I know it’s not for everyone, but I would really hate to learn that this type of living is not for him. What could anyone have against fresh air and peace and quiet? I turn to watch him looking at the little stream by my house. It’s almost picture perfect. The brown log cabin is situated right smack dab in the middle of a beautiful, evergreen meadow dotted with wild flowers. A couple of big oak trees stand tall, offering shade on both sides. A stunning, fast-running, creek sits to the left. He leans down to put out his smoke against a rock, taking care to not throw the cigarette butt down on the ground. The house has a wraparound porch that we climb a couple steps to reach.

  I unlock and open the door to turn the alarm off when I cross the threshold. Rhye follows, looking around. It’s decorated in a rustic theme from the last owners. I haven’t had time to change anything, but it doesn’t look half bad as is. I watch him walk in, taking in the high beam living area with floor to ceiling windows. A small dining room sits off on the other side with a door leading to the kitchen. If you follow the hallway back, it leads to three bedrooms and two baths.

  “Are you hungry? I can make you something,” I say, fidgeting with my hands. I’m sickeningly nervous. I want him to like my home. Geez, calm down, Syn. You are being ridiculous.

  “No, maybe later,” he says, twirling his sunglasses in his hands. Looking my direction, he starts to walk towards me, and I involuntarily take a step forward. He gives a little laugh and shakes his head. “Are you always like this?”

  “What?” I ask, sincerely confused.

  “I don’t know. Happy. You’re always smilin
g. It drives me fucking insane most of the time,” he says but laughs, making it seem less of an insult. “You just walked towards me smiling. I guess I don’t get what’s behind that pretty face of yours. When I first met you, I thought you were going to be some annoying airhead, but damn. I guess I was wrong.”

  I’m not insulted at what he is saying; however, I had no clue that I was grinning like a jackass eating briars either, as my dad would say. I try to wipe the smile off my face, but every time I try, I end up with a bigger one. My infinite fails end with a burst of laughter. Watching Rhye’s face cracks me up. He, honest to God, doesn’t have any idea what to do with me. Just as I don’t understand his pain and addiction, he has no chance understanding how I look at life with endless possibilities. We are not only polar opposites, we are from different worlds entirely.

  “Do you want to know?” I ask, continuing to smile even bigger up at him.

  “Do I want to know what?” he whispers, his eyes searching my face.

  “Duh. Do you want to know what’s behind this pretty face?” I say, lightly punch his shoulder, flirting with him.

  He gives a deep laugh and then tugs on his bottom lip. I’m so glad he has his sunglasses off and I can see his eyes. They actually seem to twinkle. I realize it could be the drugs, but I’m really hoping it’s because of me. Please Lord, let them be for me. In these precious minutes, I feel like we are normal, everyday people. Just a young girl trying to hit-on a cute guy.

  “Yeah. I think I do want to know that girl,” he says, almost shyly.

  Are Rhye Clark’s cheeks turning a light hue of pink? I think so. I feel entirely giddy inside. I want to scream and do quick jig, but I bottle it up, saving it for later.

  “Let’s go then. Daylight is burning away.” I turn, thanking every deity possible for this conversation. It’s entirely what I need. “Go on outside to the little shed, and I’ll meet you there. I need to get some provisions.”

  He nods and walks outside. I walk into the kitchen and immediately start dancing. Popping my booty out, I kick my leg up and shake it about while flailing my arms. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah,” I sing, moving around the kitchen. “He likes me. He likes me,” I chant, chicken necking. The sound of a knock on the kitchen backdoor makes me freeze in my broken crane dance move. My eyes zoom to the cut-out window in the center where Rhye stands, dying laughing. I slowly put my leg down, my shame knowing no bounds. Bowing my head, I slowly walk to unlock and open the door. My face feels completely on fire, and no doubt it is redder than red.

  “Did you need something?” I mumble, as I watch him try to unsuccessfully compose himself.

  “What the hell were you doing?” he barely gets out from laughing so hard.

  “It’s a new country line dance. You got something against country line dancing?” I ask with a straight face.

  Still chuckling, he answers, “Hell yes I do. Its looks fucking stupid. I can promise you that any girl dancing like that in a bar is going to go home alone. I don’t care how fucking hot she is.”

  “That’s your opinion, city boy. Now, what can I get you?”

  “Whatever,” he says jokingly. “You got any beer?”

  “No, I don’t drink.”

  He suddenly goes completely quiet. “You don’t drink?” he asks, looking mystified.

  “No, nothing with alcohol in it. First, I’m underage, but you and I both know, if I wanted it, I could have it. Second, I have no desire to. It tastes nasty, and I like having one hundred percent control of my life at all times.”

  “No booze,” he repeats, looking like I’ve blown his mind.

  “Nope. Nothing. I don’t smoke or drink.”

  “Oh-kay,” he says, emphasizing the word. “Uh, what do you have?”

  “How about a Sprite Zero?” I ask.

  “I guess that will do.” He looks confused.

  I turn towards the fridge, opening it to grab his drink. Part of me wants to tell him that you don’t have to drink or smoke to be cool, or whatever it is he thinks it makes someone. I can tell he doesn’t understand my choices, and well, I don’t understand his. I take several deep breaths before turning around. Remember, Syn, patience. You have to show understanding for his lifestyle choices for him to ever show you the same. Have a little faith that he’ll get to that point.

  Flipping around, I hold out a can of soda. “You want a glass for that?” He shakes his head negative. “I’ll be out in just a second,” I say, excusing him.

  “Alright,” he says, opening his can and turning to leave.

  Grabbing a light lunch and a blanket, I pack them in a red, checkered picnic basket. I grab one of my old guitars and the basket before walking outside. Rhye has opened the large doors to the shed and is checking out my Polaris Ranger.

  “This is fucking sweet. How fast does it run?”

  “It’ll do about fifty, but we won’t be testing that today,” I reply, looking at him like he is crazy. “You’re sick, remember?”

  “Next time,” he simply says.

  My heart speeds up double time. “Next time” sounds like the sweetest phrase ever. I’m already thinking of lyrics to go with it. Here I go, smiling again, and my eyes lift up to see him shaking his head at me.

  “Get in,” I tell him, sitting the basket and guitar in the back and tying them down.

  Once we both are ready, I crank it up and drive out of the shed. Josh stands in the middle of my yard, looking around in awe.

  When he sees us, he yells, “Hey! Where are you guys going?”

  I drive the opposite way, waving bye and screaming back, “Help yourself in the house. Don’t worry about us. Bye, Josh.” Rhye laughs next to me, and I love seeing that smile on his face. It does amazing things to my heart and wicked things to my head. I drive straight beside the creek bed. The weather is spectacular. There is a simple breeze that cools the warm air. It’s a perfect fall day with the vibrant, changing leaves still high on their branches. Magnificent foliage of burnt orange, flaming red, and blinding yellow covers the tops of the trees in a dazzling spray of colors. I point out the different types of trees: oaks, maples, and birch to Rhye. We drive through a valley that is filled with endless, light blue wildflowers sprouting from the ground. Several families of deer scatter from our sight as we drive through, and Rhye nudges my shoulder to show me a humongous ten point buck standing at the tree line. The nature surrounding us is breathtaking.

  After about an hour, I drive us to my favorite spot on my land and park. It’s the largest weeping willow tree I have ever seen, and it rests on the edge of a small pond. We had one on my farm growing up that I loved, and this one is twice as big. Its drooping limbs are mainly emerald green with some faint yellow sprigs throughout. It looks like a storybook cutout, fit for a fumbling princess and broken prince. Switching the Polaris off, I hop out and grab the items out of the back.

  “Why are we stopping?” Rhye asks, looking around.

  “Are you ready to get back?” I ask in return, silently praying that he isn’t.

  Looking around, he turns back to me, “Honestly, I’m enjoying myself. Don’t get me wrong. I still want to ride the shit out of that Polaris one day, but not today.”

  Here I go smiling again, and I try to stop. Really… but I can’t. I give up. Returning to what I was doing, I cover a soft patch of grass, underneath the shade of the willow tree, with the thick blanket I brought. I then place the picnic basket on one corner along with my boots. Strolling over to the pond, I reach down to pick up a small, smooth stone. I rub it between my fingers before turning to toss it, watching it skip over the glass-like water.

  “That’s pretty good,” he says behind me. “Let me try.”

  I watch him find a stone, brushing it off against his jeans. He looks to take aim and launches it. It drops in the water in one loud splash, sinking to the bottom.

  “Don’t laugh,” his voice threatens beside me, and I do just that. “I said don’t laugh,” he says, turning to grab me around the waist and hoi
st me over his shoulder, carrying me like a sack of potatoes. Being turned upside down only makes me chuckle louder. A loud smack and sharp sting to my behind halt my laughter and my breathing. “It’s not funny,” he says, but I hear the lightness of his tone.

  “You know I could teach you.” It’s not easy talking upside down with my hair falling in my mouth. I spit a tendril out and take advantage of my situation. I play his butt cheeks like drums with my hands. I’m literally loving that he seems to be flirting with me, to the point my happiness is overflowing.

  “No girl is going to teach me to throw a rock. I’m just a little rusty, country girl,” he says, dropping me on the blanket and falling down beside me.

  “You hungry yet?” I ask, not wanting the moment to go to waste.

  “No,” he replies lying back to look up at the bright blue sky peeking through the branches of the tree.

  I join him, scooting over to lie right next to him. I watch the multitude of hanging branches sway in the gentle breeze. Inhaling the crisp air, I close my eyes to commit this moment to memory. It’s so perfect; I’m afraid to open my eyes and find it all a dream.

  “Syn, tell me why a girl like you, at your age, would buy this land,” he whispers right next to me.

  I turn my head to stare into normal brown eyes again. Our faces are inches from each other, breathing in one another’s air. The upside of his cheek catches the light peeking through the trees. My body hums with wanting Rhye, but I sense that we need to casually get to know each other. So, I tap down my own needs and give him what he wants. I tell him about growing up on a small farm, stories of my overactive imagination as a child, and running and playing on acres of land. I describe my craving for the peace of nature, the solitude it offered when my soul needed healing after my mother died. I softly cry remembering not understanding why my dad couldn’t get up out of bed some mornings, drowning in grief, and I would have to complete all the daily chores before getting on the bus to school. There wasn’t many days like that, but every one vividly stands out in my mind.

  He listens, sometimes watching me and other times staring off at the sky. I talk about running away as soon as I could to Nashville. I even mention meeting Tag. How those first few weeks on tour were such a culture shock and how fast it became miserable. I speak of going to the Grammys and the day I danced in the pouring rain when my record made it to number one. I bring up about the land becoming available and wanting a place to call mine after running from the memories of my childhood home. The hardest part was describing the betrayal I suffered with Tag. I didn’t hide anything from Rhye. I laid it all out for him, so he could get to know me.