Letting You Know

by Nora Flite

  Is this the right way to go? I wondered if Bethany would hate the concept.

  Rolling on my side, I lifted the CD case, reading the songs listed on it. Nothing had struck me yet, making me nervous I had wasted my money. Worse, my time. What will I bring tomorrow to practice with her?

  Something hit me, slamming into my chest before bouncing to the floor; a baseball cap from the rack by my door. Blinking, I sat up, realizing I had company.

  “Hey,” Nicholas said as soon as I'd slid the headphones down, “sorry, I was calling for you and you didn't hear me.”

  Squinting at my brother, I scrubbed at the back of my neck, sitting up further on my bed. “It's fine, but next time maybe just tap my shoulder or something?”

  He rolled his eyes, leaning on the frame of the doorway, arms folding tight as a clam. “Whatever. Mom wanted me to come get you for dinner.” His eyes, sharp as tacks, flicked to the CD in my hand. “What are you listening to, anyway?”

  “Nothing,” I said, uncomfortable at the idea of him finding out what I was up to. “It's just some music. Nothing special.”

  “Is that the Killer Sons?”

  “Uh,” I responded, feeling slow, surprised. “It could be. How do you know about them?”

  Nicholas stepped in closer until he stood beside me. He was lanky, the way only a fourteen year old could be.

  When he reached for the CD, it took every ounce of will power not to stop him. “They're pretty popular. I sort of like them, myself. But,” he smirked, arching an eyebrow at me, “this isn't something I'd expect you to listen to. What's up?”

  “Nothing,” I said, laughing with some effort. When I fell back onto my pillows, I could feel the sweat on my neck against the cool fabric. “I'm not up to anything. It's just music.”

  “Music that Dad would probably get upset over if he saw you listening to it.”

  “Well,” I said, fixing a tight smile at my younger brother's doubtful face, “he won't see me doing that.”

  Nicholas opened his mouth, then closed it quickly. His odd concern shifted to indifference as I threw the CD onto the blanket by my shoulder. “Fine. I'm not going to say anything, obviously. Just come down for dinner already.”

  He walked away in a rush, anxious to end the situation. I expected him to leave without another word. Instead, he glanced back at me, hands deep in his pockets. “You should listen to track number eight. It's pretty good.”

  Stunned, I moved to sit up, to comment. He exited on fast feet, rendering my attempt pointless. I could hear him shuffling down the hall on heavy heels, loud despite his gangly, thin size.

  Warily, I settled back, my fingers gripping the CD player. Pulling it into my lap, I flicked through the tracks. The ear buds were tucked back into place, just in time for the start of the song my brother had suggested.

  “Cool sorrow,” the words sank into my brain, causing me to close my eyes. “Fall away, fall away...” It was intense, the hairs on my neck bristling with the strange energy.

  This is it, I realized, imagining the hardcore song being turned into an entirely new thing when Bethany and myself took it up. We'd twist it, mellow it out, turn the music into a whole different genre when we sang our duet.

  “Drumming, crashing, losing you everywhere!” The male singer screamed in my ears. Blinking, I twisted the CD over, reading the name of the track that had yanked me in.

  Rain Flow. This is it, this is our song.

  ****

  Bethany was waiting for me the next day, perched like a canary on the chair in the music room. She'd tied her hair back in a tight braid, forehead smooth and shiny in the lights.

  “Alright, Mr. Showman, I'm here like you said. So tell me what your grand plan is.”

  Smiling, I handed her the music sheets I had printed out. “Think you can play that on the piano?”

  She took the paper, turning it over, thin brows crinkling. “Yeah, I can handle this. But what is it?”

  “The song we'll be singing.” I'd stayed up all night, transcribing the song into something that kept the general tune, but could be played on the piano. It had been difficult; I was exhausted, but it was worth every lost wink of sleep. “Here are the lyrics,” I said, passing her another sheet.

  Tilting her head, she slid off the chair, moving towards the piano in the corner. “I don't know this song, what is it?”

  “It's called 'Rain Flow' and it's... well, it's not something you'd probably listen to, normally.”

  That made her pause, a sharp shape to her blue eyes when she glanced at me. Saying nothing, she settled at the large instrument, arranging the sheet music.

  Her fingers pressed the keys, testing the notes, exciting me before she'd even begun playing the actual song.

  Bethany hesitated, squinting at the paper. Then, her fingers began to dance, calling the music to life so suddenly it made me shiver.

  The melody was haunting, strange when compared to what I knew from memory was the original song. This version I'd crafted, brought forth by the girl who drew me in day by day, was drastically more somber.

  Her eyes met mine, I knew she wanted to know what was next. Clearing my throat, I stood by the piano, waiting for her to start over.

  “Cool sorrow,” I started, crooning the words softly in my throat. I felt her eyes on me, her attention encouraging me to push myself for the best performance I could. Inside, I was aware this was just a sample; just a demo to show her the flow.

  Yet, knowing she was so aware of me...

  This is what I'm after, I want this.

  “It's pretty,” she said when I'd finished. “Sort of sad, though, too. You think this will give us a chance at winning?”

  “Of course,” I said, knowing I didn't care an ounce if we won or not anymore. “You're so talented, Bethany. Everyone else might as well give up now.” Her blush, bright as fresh cherries, thrilled me.

  “Am I supposed to sing the chorus?” She asked, shifting in place, not meeting my eyes.

  “That's what I thought would work best. If you can play and sing at the same time, I think together we'll sound amazing.”

  Her glossy lips parted a fragment. “Um, well, I guess we should give it our all, then.”

  Grinning, I cleared my throat once more, shrugging. “I don't know about you, but I already am.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, nodding so that her braid bounced, “then let's do this.”

  The smile she gave me was bashful, honest.

  It struck me in the heart like nothing had before.

  Six Years Later

  Chapter 4.

  The music must have stopped, I had trouble telling. I was sure I hadn't sung a single word, yet my mouth hung open, like I'd been ready to.

  Something touched my forearm; Leah. Her eyes were glossy, teeth bright in the heavy lights of the room. “Did I do alright?” She asked, whispering with bubbling delight.

  I didn't even listen, I don't know. I don't know how she sounded at all. Fighting off my daze, worried I might be sick any second, I pushed a weak smile into place. “You were great,” I lied, feeling awful about how I had zoned out.

  Worse, zoned out thinking about my ex.

  My memories weren't exactly filling me with fond joy. In fact, recalling how bright my future had seemed with Bethany back then was making my stomach ache with disgust.

  I don't want to be here right now.

  The pastor spoke again, inviting us all to sit. I was relieved to collapse; my muscles stiff, sore. A jittery energy was filling me head to toe. It was as if I had chugged multiple cups of loathsome, bitter coffee.

  What do I do? I should have thought about this. Of course Bethany would still be singing here. Why would she ever have left? Especially after being so wary of leaving this town at all.

  That still galled me, thinking about how she had once wished to take her talent to bigger places.

  Now, she's just the big fish in this tiny pond.

  The group on stage didn't stir, staying on st
age as the pastor rolled into a sermon. It was impossible for me to look anywhere else but at her.

  Bethany appeared healthy, her mouth as tight and serious usual. Thick lashes tickled her cheeks, hiding her blue eyes.

  Is it possible she won't even notice me here?

  As the service progressed, my hope blossomed. It seemed a far dream to go unseen, it reminded a bitter part of me of the great lengths I had gone to get her attention in the first place.

  “Now, let us stand, and rejoice in this song of His birth,” the pastor instructed.

  Together, the room moved; the sound of cloth shuffling, shoes clicking. But there was another noise, a brief but loud 'clomp' that came from beside me.

  “Ah!” Leah gasped, scrambling to bend down and lift the hymn book she had dropped. Red, flustered, she ducked her eyes quickly. “Sorry! Sorry.”

  As if drawn in by that one, erratic sound, Bethany lifted her head and found me in the crowd. The brightness of her azure orbs was muted only by the lack of surprise on her face.

  She doesn't seem startled to see me, I mused, fighting to keep myself relaxed. Sweat was beading on my neck, tickling me like spiders as it rolled down to soak my shirt. That... that bothers me. Why wouldn't she be shocked?

  The whole room began to sing as one, yet I was focused helplessly on Bethany. I was reliving everything, singing simultaneously in the setting of the church. Her voice lilted, rising and falling in tempo like feathers in the wind.

  Why is this happening, how could I not have avoided this? I'm so stupid, so so stupid!

  I wanted to run, to do anything except join my voice with this woman. I hated how perfectly we synced, even now.

  Even after everything.

  Then, beside me, I noticed something. A voice that was off-key, struggling to keep up, but bustling with real joy to be trying at all.

  Looking over, I found Leah watching me; her cheeks warm, her nose still ruddy from the winter weather outside. Those brown eyes were alive, excited by what was going on around her.

  She's enjoying this. She's singing with everyone, with me, and loving it.

  She's... loving it.

  Grinning, caught up in her energy, I tried to match her pitched-down version of the song, amused by how awful she was at keeping the rhythm. She wasn't a natural, she might have struggled even with lessons. But Leah was in the moment and enjoying it for what it was.

  I focused on that, on her, and felt my mood lighten.

  The last notes faded. As they did, she giggled. Covering her mouth, she asked once more, “did I do alright?”

  “Yes,” I answered, honestly this time. “You were fantastic, Leah.”

  She beamed, bouncing on her heels, happier than I had seen her allow herself to be since we'd taken this trip. This was what I had wanted, to take her to my home town and see her enjoy what I had once loved.

  What I could still love, I realized.

  The rest of the service was a blur. By the end of it, I was able to avoid looking for Bethany, to see if she was watching me. I don't need to have anything to do with her anymore, I reminded myself. She's part of my past, I don't need to relive it.

  The pastor relieved us all, the room standing as one and beginning the slow process of trying to exit, while also getting swept into conversations with friends and family.

  “Come on,” I said to Leah, aching to get us out of there. “Let's go wait outside, we'll be getting brunch when my parents are done chatting.”

  “That sounds great,” she said, adjusting her scarf. “I'm really hungry. Singing is a lot of work.”

  I started to chuckle, eager to escape the sea of faces, to be alone with Leah if just to give her a hug in private. Then that voice came, crisp as water, chiming to warn me of many things at once.

  “Deacon,” Bethany said from beside me. “Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it?”

  The ripple of anxiety ran up my body, I was sure Leah could see it contort my face. With effort, I turned, finding the blonde standing in the aisle. She was trapping me in the pew, I had no idea if that was intentional.

  “I guess it has, yeah.” My voice was emotionless, I wouldn't pretend to be happy. I didn't care about appearances right then.

  Her lips spread, the kind of look one gave to someone they were barely tolerating. “How have you been?”

  “Fine,” I shrugged, noticing Leah's silence like it was a heavy hand on my throat. If she hasn't guessed who this is by now, well... Turning, I gently gripped her shoulder. “This is Leah. Leah, this is Bethany.”

  My girlfriend straightened under my introduction. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you.”

  Bethany blinked, tilting her head so that her hair flowed like a soft waterfall. “Leah? So you brought your girlfriend with you. How nice.”

  How does she know she's my girlfriend? Who could have told Bethany that?

  “How do you like this little slice of Kentucky so far, Leah?” Bethany pressed on.

  “Um,” Leah mumbled, clearly unsure how to handle this turn of events, “it's... nice. Very cute.”

  “Cute,” Bethany repeated, tasting the word. “That's one way of putting it.”

  Just leave, please. This is awful.

  The world was conspiring against me. “Bethany!” My father blurted, wandering up in a hurry. “Your singing was wonderful as ever! How are you, honey?”

  “Oh, Dylan!” She said cheerfully, leaning in for a quick hug. “Thank you so much, you're too sweet. I'm doing well, you?”

  “Just hungry, if truth be told,” he laughed. Turning towards me, he flicked his eyes between us all rapidly. It was impossible to understand what he was thinking. “Well, your mother is in the car, should we go get some brunch?”

  “Yes,” I said briskly, feeling Leah grab my elbow as I moved around my father, into the aisle. Just get me out of here, please.

  “Bethany,” he said behind us, pleasant as punch, “we'll be at the usual Birch Diner if you want to stop by.”

  Not slowing, I hurried through the crowd, just wanting to get to some fresh air. Even with my speed, I heard her response over my shoulder.

  “Thanks. I might do just that, Dylan.”

  ****

  “Deacon,” Leah said when we broke out into the sunlight. There was a crowd out in the parking lot, so I kept moving. “Deacon!” She said again, her tone sharper.

  Did that really happen, was that real?

  “Deacon, stop, talk to me,” she pleaded, hanging onto my arm. Finally, I slumped against the side of a tree, far enough from both the car and the church to allow myself a moment of relief.

  Sliding down onto the cold ground, I hung my head, arms propped on my knees. “I'm so sorry you had to see that.”

  “See what?” She asked, crouching beside me, her gloved hands reaching for my own. “See your ex-girlfriend talking to you? Come on,” she laughed, sounding so oddly amused I couldn't resist looking up at her in shock.

  “Deacon,” she went on, gesturing at the faded scar on her lip. “You met my ex, remember? How was what happened inside there worse than that 'meeting'? Hmn?”

  Grimacing, I reached out, pulling her closer until she was hugging me where I sat. My face pressed into her hair; her fragrance washed over me, clearing some of my guilt away. “You're right, that—I just should have expected this, predicted it...”

  “Warned me?” She asked, cutting to what was going through my mind.

  I said nothing at first, I only hugged her harder. Yes, warned her. That's what I'm lamenting.

  Gingerly, she untangled herself, kneeling on the hard ground in front of me. “Deacon, don't worry about it. I'm not mad. I mean, yes, it was a little weird, but.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, she looked up at me through her eyelashes. “I had fun singing along with you, that's all I care about right now. Having a good time, with you.”

  “Yeah?” Leaning back into the tree, I studied her expression. “You really mean it, don't you?” Rubbing the side of my neck, I offered a weak laugh
. “I'm freaking out over Bethany, and you're just pleased you had fun. I'm so sorry Leah, my priorities are off, aren't they?”

  “Whatever,” she said, standing, dusting off her knees. “It's honestly fine. Besides, it isn't like we need to keep dealing with her, right?”

  “Right,” I agreed, taking her hand when she offered it. Standing on stiff legs, I stretched, spine popping. “You're completely right. Bethany and I are in the past, and we won't see her anymore. Come on, let's go get brunch.”

  Leah grinned, squeezing my fingers as hard as she could. It was exactly what I needed in that moment, the sensation grounding me in the present.

  Together, we walked to my Dad's truck.

  ****

  Hot, greasy warmth met us full on inside the diner. If I had a memory I wanted to embrace or relive, it was coming to Birch's for brunch after a Sunday service.

  A buffet style setting, the diner was often packed with the same church-goers consistently. Today was no different.

  With 'God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen' piping through the speakers, a brightly lit tree in the corner next to a Nativity, and snowflakes pasted on the windows, it was a divine slice of decadence.

  And that was without even looking at the food.

  “What is all this?” Leah asked, appearing overwhelmed by the busy, buzzing restaurant.

  “Southern brunch,” I said, grinning at her tentative frown. “Come on, follow me.” I saw my parents had grabbed a table, so I gave them a quick nod to show them we would meet them there soon.

  Walking with Leah along the trays of steaming food, I was struck with a slight feeling of how strange this was. I never really imagined I'd be reliving any of my past experiences with this girl. Is it just because of how far away we live from my hometown?

  Everything here feels sort of like a whole other lifetime, I guess.

  “What's that?” She pointed at a big pan of thick, shining yellow globs.

  “Creamed corn, don't tell me you've never seen that!”