Inspiring You
Page 38
As the rest of the week goes by, things slowly start to return to normal. Lyric and I spend most of our time attached at the hip, working on songs and simply relaxing, something we haven’t been able to do in a while.
“You’re staring again,” she says to me while we’re lounging around in her bed.
Her shirt is rolled up and her long legs are tangled with mine as we work on a new song. A little Nirvana is playing from the stereo, which brings back memories of the first day I met her. We also have all the windows open, mostly because we feel safe enough to have them open, and a warm summer breeze is blowing into the room.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sounding very unapologetic. “I guess it’s the song. It reminds me of the first day I met you and how I couldn’t stop staring.”
Her lips twitch with amusement. “Aw, the staring days. How can I forget those?”
“I was such a weirdo. Who knows why you became friends with me.”
“Um, hello, because I’m a weirdo too. And as a fellow weirdo, your weirdoness barely fazed me.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad.”
We grow quiet as we listen to the song, and my thoughts drift to everything that’s happened over the last couple of years.
So much bad has existed in my life, yet there’s been so much good stuff. Sometimes I got so lost in the bad that I couldn’t see all the good, but I don’t want that to be the case anymore. I want to experience my life. Breathe in every good moment.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Lyric whispers as she scoots closer to me.
“I’m thinking about how much you mean to me and how great you’ve made my life.” I set down the pen I’m holding so I can drape my arm over her side. “And how I never want to lose you. How I want to spend the rest of my life experiencing good stuff with you to make up for all the bad things we’ve been through.”
She chews on the end of her pen, a pucker forming between her brows. “That sounds nice. Really, really nice. And I hope it happens. I hope we get to spend a lot of time with each other doing all sorts of crazy things.”
“It’ll definitely happen.” I smooth my thumb between her brows. “What’s with the worried look?”
Hesitancy masks her expression. “I was thinking about your sister, actually . . . You’re going to see her today, right?”
I nod, glancing at the clock. “I’ll probably have to leave pretty soon.”
I’ve visited Sadie a couple of times over the last few days, but every time I go there, she’s asleep. The doctors say she doesn’t sleep very well, so no one’s supposed to disturb her when she’s out.
Lyric sits up, pulling me with her, then crisscrosses her legs. “Do you know what you’re going to say to her if you get to talk to her today?”
I shake my head, closing my notebook. “I’ve gone over it in my head for years, what it was going to be like when I saw her again. I just never pictured it being in this kind of situation.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I think Sadie will probably just be happy to see you.”
“But what if she’s not?” I whisper. “What if she blames me for not finding her?”
“That’s not going to happen, because it’s not true. What happened wasn’t your fault. It was those people.” Her expression hardens.
“It might not be my fault, but I promised her I’d find her, and the fact that I didn’t feels like I failed her somehow.”
“You didn’t fail anyone.” She yawns. “And I have a feeling Sadie is going to agree with me.”
“That’s because you’re an optimist.” I laugh at her as she yawns again. “What’s up, sleepy head?” I suddenly grow worried. “Wait, have you been having trouble sleeping?”
She stretches her arms above her head, her back arching. “No. I’ve been staying up late working on some new songs. I know it’s morbidly twisted, but after everything that happened, my creativity sparked a freaking ton. I have so many ideas sloshing around in my brain that I don’t even know what to do with it.” She lowers her hand to her lap. “You want to read the song I wrote about that one night?”
“About the night my dad broke in?” I ask warily.
She shakes her head. “No, about the first time we had sex.”
My body ignites with desire and need as I remember that night and the other nights we’ve spent together since.
“You’re staring again,” she says to me while we’re lounging around in her bed.
Her shirt is rolled up and her long legs are tangled with mine as we work on a new song. A little Nirvana is playing from the stereo, which brings back memories of the first day I met her. We also have all the windows open, mostly because we feel safe enough to have them open, and a warm summer breeze is blowing into the room.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sounding very unapologetic. “I guess it’s the song. It reminds me of the first day I met you and how I couldn’t stop staring.”
Her lips twitch with amusement. “Aw, the staring days. How can I forget those?”
“I was such a weirdo. Who knows why you became friends with me.”
“Um, hello, because I’m a weirdo too. And as a fellow weirdo, your weirdoness barely fazed me.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad.”
We grow quiet as we listen to the song, and my thoughts drift to everything that’s happened over the last couple of years.
So much bad has existed in my life, yet there’s been so much good stuff. Sometimes I got so lost in the bad that I couldn’t see all the good, but I don’t want that to be the case anymore. I want to experience my life. Breathe in every good moment.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Lyric whispers as she scoots closer to me.
“I’m thinking about how much you mean to me and how great you’ve made my life.” I set down the pen I’m holding so I can drape my arm over her side. “And how I never want to lose you. How I want to spend the rest of my life experiencing good stuff with you to make up for all the bad things we’ve been through.”
She chews on the end of her pen, a pucker forming between her brows. “That sounds nice. Really, really nice. And I hope it happens. I hope we get to spend a lot of time with each other doing all sorts of crazy things.”
“It’ll definitely happen.” I smooth my thumb between her brows. “What’s with the worried look?”
Hesitancy masks her expression. “I was thinking about your sister, actually . . . You’re going to see her today, right?”
I nod, glancing at the clock. “I’ll probably have to leave pretty soon.”
I’ve visited Sadie a couple of times over the last few days, but every time I go there, she’s asleep. The doctors say she doesn’t sleep very well, so no one’s supposed to disturb her when she’s out.
Lyric sits up, pulling me with her, then crisscrosses her legs. “Do you know what you’re going to say to her if you get to talk to her today?”
I shake my head, closing my notebook. “I’ve gone over it in my head for years, what it was going to be like when I saw her again. I just never pictured it being in this kind of situation.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I think Sadie will probably just be happy to see you.”
“But what if she’s not?” I whisper. “What if she blames me for not finding her?”
“That’s not going to happen, because it’s not true. What happened wasn’t your fault. It was those people.” Her expression hardens.
“It might not be my fault, but I promised her I’d find her, and the fact that I didn’t feels like I failed her somehow.”
“You didn’t fail anyone.” She yawns. “And I have a feeling Sadie is going to agree with me.”
“That’s because you’re an optimist.” I laugh at her as she yawns again. “What’s up, sleepy head?” I suddenly grow worried. “Wait, have you been having trouble sleeping?”
She stretches her arms above her head, her back arching. “No. I’ve been staying up late working on some new songs. I know it’s morbidly twisted, but after everything that happened, my creativity sparked a freaking ton. I have so many ideas sloshing around in my brain that I don’t even know what to do with it.” She lowers her hand to her lap. “You want to read the song I wrote about that one night?”
“About the night my dad broke in?” I ask warily.
She shakes her head. “No, about the first time we had sex.”
My body ignites with desire and need as I remember that night and the other nights we’ve spent together since.
