Chapter 67: Chapter Six

Demetri

I smiled like an idiot the rest of the way home. I couldn't help it. Alyssa. Laughing, I walked into the house and went to the fridge for another soda.

I'd usually have a beer about now, and I was excited about actually talking to someone my age who wasn't my brother, my brother's girlfriend, or a crazy fan.

I wasn't sure if I should be concerned or excited.

The TV was on in the background. I flipped open the can of soda and downed half of it before jumping onto the couch.

Bob was sitting there, his eyes trained on the TV like a man starved.

“Tried blueberry pancakes yet?” I took another sip of soda.

“Yup.”

“Cherry Cola?”

“Yup.”

Damn. “Salted caramel corn?”

Bob fell silent then looked at me. “Nope.”

We played this every night. He was so far ahead in the taffy tasting that it was pathetic. It was my one goal to beat him and eat a piece of taffy he hadn't yet eaten.

His eyes narrowed. “Seaside Taffy doesn't have that flavor.”

“I know.” I smiled triumphantly. “I was flirting with the competition.”

“Whoring yourself out again?”

“Very funny, Bob.”

He shrugged. “I thought so.”

“Admit it, you want to try some now.”

“Maybe.” He rose from his seat and gave me the remote.

I shook my head. “It's all yours tonight, man. I'm going to go write.”

“School's out?” He leaned in as if to see if I was high.

I slapped his hand away. “I'm not high, I'm not drunk, and I know school's out. Songs. I'm going to go write some songs.”

“You haven't written since you and Nat…”

“Thank you for being so perceptive.” I slapped him on the back. “I'll be upstairs writing and pouring out my feelings. Have fun watching the game.”

He nodded and sat back down.

****

My guitar was gathering dust in the corner. I hadn't picked it up since that day last fall when I crashed Nat's homecoming and played the song I wrote for her.

I didn't know it at the time, but she and my brother were already in love. Later that night, I tried to get her out of her clothes and into my bed before my brother beat me to it.

I hit a wall.

It was like, I couldn't write anymore.

It was also part of the reason I didn't feel bad that Alec was doing all our promo.

It was the beginning of June, and I was still twiddling my thumbs about writing some stuff.

Before, all my songs had been about getting wasted and partying at the clubs. Then I wrote a song for Nat. It was my favorite song I'd ever written.

I wanted more songs like it, more songs that talked about important stuff, not just going to parties and living it up.

I strummed a few chords and sighed.

The view from my room was legit. I put the guitar down and pushed open the window. The sea breeze floated into the room.

“Good Taffy, strong taffy,” I sang, then laughed. Wow, the fans would love that one.

“Salted caramel corn makes me want to kiss her…” I crooned and snorted with disgust.

“Alyssa,” I said her name softly and then a little louder.

Something was up with that chick. Why wouldn't she have friends? I didn't for one second buy that crap about them all moving away. Besides, she was gorgeous.

I mean, she didn't dress the best, but still, those eyes, those lips? That face. I knew a hot girl when I saw one. At least the girl should have a boyfriend.

“Pretty girl.” I sighed, and then like it had happened thousands of times before, my fingers glided across the guitar, and I began to sing.

“You're bad. Bad for me, bad to me, bad with me. I know it when I see your face, the way your smile tilts that way. But I can't, can't stop myself from staring, can't stop myself from swearing.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I'll never be the same.

Trust. The word falls easy from my lips. Trust me, need me, use me. You call to me. Your eyes hide secrets I want to know.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I'll never be the same.”

I played it in a minor key, giving it a folksy feel. I figured if I added some electronic sound effects, it would be amazing.

I looked over the words and cringed. I'd forgotten how emotional writing was, how it seemed to reflect exactly what was on my mind and damn the consequences.

I set up GarageBand and recorded it, then attached it to an email for Alec.

My phone rang five minutes later.

“Dude,” Alec said on the other end. “What was that?”

“A song?” I swallowed. Crap, I thought he would like it.

“You made Nat cry.”

“It wasn't about her!” I argued. “I just wrote it and —”

“Chill.” Alec laughed. “She cried because it was so beautiful, and because she gets emotional when she's proud. Right, babe?”

I heard Nat say a dirty word and laughed.

“She's mad at me for telling you.” Alec chuckled into the phone. “Can we record that for the album?”

I thought about it for a minute. It was kind of personal, and it wasn't even about me, but about her. But it wasn't as if she listened to us anyway. “Sure. Yeah, let's do it.”

“Cool, now write twenty more.”

“While you do what?”

Alec laughed into the receiver and spoke in a low voice. “I think I'll have Nat keep me occupied.”

“And this conversation is over.” I rolled my eyes. “Later, brother.”

“Bye.”

It was three in the morning before I found my bed, and also the first time in the last year that I didn't crave something to numb my feelings.

I felt raw. Exposed. I'd forgotten how much I liked it. Liked to actually feel, as bad as it hurt. It was real, it was life. And I was finally living.