Maybe Now
Page 32
I think back to mine and Sydney’s conversation from earlier, and how she expressed a fear that I would someday take Maggie back because I want to fix everything going wrong in Maggie’s life. I try to work that into a couple of sentences, but nothing sticks. I close my eyes and try to recall the exact words I said to her.
“I would be broken without you. Then who would fix me?”
I read that sentence over and over again. “Who would fix me?”
This is how I sometimes build a foundation for my lyrics. I think of a person. I think of a conversation with that person, or a thought I have about that person. And then I ask myself a question about that thought, then build a line of lyrics around the answer.
So…who would fix me? The only person who could mend my shattered heart would be Sydney.
I find my sweet spot in that answer and write down the lyric, “You’re the only one who fixes me.”
I tap my pencil on the page in the tempo of the music that Brennan wrote out for me. Brennan picks up his guitar and watches my pencil, then starts to play. I can see Sydney out of the corner of my eye as she pulls her knees up on the bench and wraps her arms around them, watching us. I look at her for a moment, waiting for thoughts of her to inspire another line. What do I want her to know when she hears this song?
I write down several sentences in no particular order, and none of them rhyme, but they all remind me of Sydney. I’ll build around them in a moment and make each of them into verses. I just need to get out the basic things I’m thinking.
“There was a truth in you from the start.”
“I think you’re pretty when you speak.”
“I bring the mess and you bring the clean.”
“Time will come and you will see. You’re the only one who fixes me.”
I look up from the page, and Brennan is still playing, working through the tempo of the song that I just laid his chorus out to. Sydney is watching me, smiling. It’s all I need to finish the lyrics. I move to the bench with Brennan and show him the lyrics, matched up with his chorus. He starts tweaking it while I finish the lyrics.
Almost an hour later, we have a complete song. It’s the fastest the two of us have ever written together. Brennan hasn’t sung any of the lyrics out loud yet for her, so I move to the bench with her and pull her against me before he plays her the full song. He begins strumming his guitar, and she wraps an arm around me, leaning her head against my shoulder.
Wake up early, go to bed late
That’s what I do, that’s my mistake
Tell me something and I forget
I’m not perfect, I’m far from it
I’m out the door 15 too late
Thinking I’m early, but I make you wait
Don’t wash my dishes for a week
But I think you’re pretty when you speak
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me
I bring the mess and you bring the clean
I think you’re funny when you’re mean
There was a truth in you from the start
And nothing can break this hold on my heart
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me, yeah
Out of order, out of my mind
Had you waiting on a white lie
Took a minute but I finally found my way
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me, yeah
When Brennan finishes playing the song, Sydney doesn’t move right away. She’s curled up to me, her hand fisted in my shirt. I think she must need a moment to absorb that.
When she finally pulls away from my chest, there are tears in her eyes, and she wipes them away with her fingers. Brennan and I wait for her to say something, but she just shakes her head. “Don’t make me talk right now. I can’t.”
Brennan smiles at me. “Speechless. Your girl approves.” He stands up and says, “I’m gonna head to your apartment and get this one recorded on my phone while it’s fresh in my head. Want a ride?”
Sydney nods and grabs my hand. “Yes. But we aren’t staying at Ridge’s. We have to go back to my apartment. It’s important.”
I give her a confused look.
She shoots me an adamant look in return. “Bridge, cloud, pimple. Now.”
I smile as she pulls me toward Brennan’s car.
I think she loved that song.
Ridge and Brennan have both exited Brennan’s car, but I’m still sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at the car parked next to ours. It’s Hunter’s car. But it’s not Hunter shutting the back door. It’s Tori. Which is why I’m frozen to my seat, because I wasn’t expecting to see her, and I really don’t want her to see me. I’m certain it won’t end up with me punching her again, but I still have no desire to talk to her.
It’s too late, though, because Ridge doesn’t recognize her, and he opens my door right as she’s rounding the front of our car. She pauses in her tracks when our eyes meet.
Dammit.
I take Ridge’s hand and slowly get out of the car. Tori looks like she’s seen a ghost. But she doesn’t run away like I wish she would. Instead, she walks the sacks of groceries to the hood of her car and sets them down. Then she turns to me, hugging herself.
“Hi,” she says. I can tell she wants to talk. And I just don’t have it in me to be a complete dick to her.
I look at Ridge. “You go,” I sign. “Two minutes.”
Ridge glances at Tori and then at me. He nods and backs away, falling into step with Brennan as they head up to Ridge’s apartment.
Tori looks good. She’s always looked good. I find myself pulling at my ponytail and wiping a wisp of hair out of my face.
“Is that your boyfriend?” she asks.
I glance up at the top of the stairs. Ridge is walking into his apartment backward, looking down at us with concern. I give him a reassuring smile before he closes the door. I turn my attention back to Tori, folding my arms over my chest. “Yeah.”
There’s a knowing look in Tori’s eye. “He’s the guy from the balcony, right? The one you were writing lyrics for?”
I suddenly become protective of everything going on in my life, and I don’t want to reveal anything to Tori. I don’t even know why I’m out here right now. She just seemed like she really wanted me to stop and talk to her. Maybe so she can move past everything that happened between us.
I look behind her, at Hunter’s car. There’s a “For Sale” sign posted in the side and back windows.
“Hunter is selling his car?”
Tori looks over her shoulder at it. “Yeah. We think it got water damage or something. It’s been smelling weird for a while now.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, ensuring she doesn’t see my smile breaking through. When I’m certain I can hold it in, I move my hand and grip the strap of my purse. “That’s too bad. I know he loves that car.”
Tori’s phone rings, and she glances down at it, then answers it, turning away from me a little. Almost as if she doesn’t want me to be privy to her conversation.
“What?” she whispers. The way she answers the phone makes it seem like she’s irritated with whoever is on the other line. She glances up at her apartment and says, “I still have another load of groceries to bring up. Give me a sec.”
She ends the call and slides her phone into her pocket. She walks over to the hood of her car and starts grabbing the sacks of groceries. She stands in front of me, two sacks in each hand, arms down at her sides. “So, um…” She pauses and inhales a sharp breath, exhaling it just as quickly. “You wanna grab coffee sometime? I’d really like to catch up. Hear all about the new boyfriend.”
“I would be broken without you. Then who would fix me?”
I read that sentence over and over again. “Who would fix me?”
This is how I sometimes build a foundation for my lyrics. I think of a person. I think of a conversation with that person, or a thought I have about that person. And then I ask myself a question about that thought, then build a line of lyrics around the answer.
So…who would fix me? The only person who could mend my shattered heart would be Sydney.
I find my sweet spot in that answer and write down the lyric, “You’re the only one who fixes me.”
I tap my pencil on the page in the tempo of the music that Brennan wrote out for me. Brennan picks up his guitar and watches my pencil, then starts to play. I can see Sydney out of the corner of my eye as she pulls her knees up on the bench and wraps her arms around them, watching us. I look at her for a moment, waiting for thoughts of her to inspire another line. What do I want her to know when she hears this song?
I write down several sentences in no particular order, and none of them rhyme, but they all remind me of Sydney. I’ll build around them in a moment and make each of them into verses. I just need to get out the basic things I’m thinking.
“There was a truth in you from the start.”
“I think you’re pretty when you speak.”
“I bring the mess and you bring the clean.”
“Time will come and you will see. You’re the only one who fixes me.”
I look up from the page, and Brennan is still playing, working through the tempo of the song that I just laid his chorus out to. Sydney is watching me, smiling. It’s all I need to finish the lyrics. I move to the bench with Brennan and show him the lyrics, matched up with his chorus. He starts tweaking it while I finish the lyrics.
Almost an hour later, we have a complete song. It’s the fastest the two of us have ever written together. Brennan hasn’t sung any of the lyrics out loud yet for her, so I move to the bench with her and pull her against me before he plays her the full song. He begins strumming his guitar, and she wraps an arm around me, leaning her head against my shoulder.
Wake up early, go to bed late
That’s what I do, that’s my mistake
Tell me something and I forget
I’m not perfect, I’m far from it
I’m out the door 15 too late
Thinking I’m early, but I make you wait
Don’t wash my dishes for a week
But I think you’re pretty when you speak
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me
I bring the mess and you bring the clean
I think you’re funny when you’re mean
There was a truth in you from the start
And nothing can break this hold on my heart
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me, yeah
Out of order, out of my mind
Had you waiting on a white lie
Took a minute but I finally found my way
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
Ask around, you’ll figure out
You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout
Time will come and you will see
You’re the only one who fixes me
You’re the only one who fixes me, yeah
When Brennan finishes playing the song, Sydney doesn’t move right away. She’s curled up to me, her hand fisted in my shirt. I think she must need a moment to absorb that.
When she finally pulls away from my chest, there are tears in her eyes, and she wipes them away with her fingers. Brennan and I wait for her to say something, but she just shakes her head. “Don’t make me talk right now. I can’t.”
Brennan smiles at me. “Speechless. Your girl approves.” He stands up and says, “I’m gonna head to your apartment and get this one recorded on my phone while it’s fresh in my head. Want a ride?”
Sydney nods and grabs my hand. “Yes. But we aren’t staying at Ridge’s. We have to go back to my apartment. It’s important.”
I give her a confused look.
She shoots me an adamant look in return. “Bridge, cloud, pimple. Now.”
I smile as she pulls me toward Brennan’s car.
I think she loved that song.
Ridge and Brennan have both exited Brennan’s car, but I’m still sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at the car parked next to ours. It’s Hunter’s car. But it’s not Hunter shutting the back door. It’s Tori. Which is why I’m frozen to my seat, because I wasn’t expecting to see her, and I really don’t want her to see me. I’m certain it won’t end up with me punching her again, but I still have no desire to talk to her.
It’s too late, though, because Ridge doesn’t recognize her, and he opens my door right as she’s rounding the front of our car. She pauses in her tracks when our eyes meet.
Dammit.
I take Ridge’s hand and slowly get out of the car. Tori looks like she’s seen a ghost. But she doesn’t run away like I wish she would. Instead, she walks the sacks of groceries to the hood of her car and sets them down. Then she turns to me, hugging herself.
“Hi,” she says. I can tell she wants to talk. And I just don’t have it in me to be a complete dick to her.
I look at Ridge. “You go,” I sign. “Two minutes.”
Ridge glances at Tori and then at me. He nods and backs away, falling into step with Brennan as they head up to Ridge’s apartment.
Tori looks good. She’s always looked good. I find myself pulling at my ponytail and wiping a wisp of hair out of my face.
“Is that your boyfriend?” she asks.
I glance up at the top of the stairs. Ridge is walking into his apartment backward, looking down at us with concern. I give him a reassuring smile before he closes the door. I turn my attention back to Tori, folding my arms over my chest. “Yeah.”
There’s a knowing look in Tori’s eye. “He’s the guy from the balcony, right? The one you were writing lyrics for?”
I suddenly become protective of everything going on in my life, and I don’t want to reveal anything to Tori. I don’t even know why I’m out here right now. She just seemed like she really wanted me to stop and talk to her. Maybe so she can move past everything that happened between us.
I look behind her, at Hunter’s car. There’s a “For Sale” sign posted in the side and back windows.
“Hunter is selling his car?”
Tori looks over her shoulder at it. “Yeah. We think it got water damage or something. It’s been smelling weird for a while now.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, ensuring she doesn’t see my smile breaking through. When I’m certain I can hold it in, I move my hand and grip the strap of my purse. “That’s too bad. I know he loves that car.”
Tori’s phone rings, and she glances down at it, then answers it, turning away from me a little. Almost as if she doesn’t want me to be privy to her conversation.
“What?” she whispers. The way she answers the phone makes it seem like she’s irritated with whoever is on the other line. She glances up at her apartment and says, “I still have another load of groceries to bring up. Give me a sec.”
She ends the call and slides her phone into her pocket. She walks over to the hood of her car and starts grabbing the sacks of groceries. She stands in front of me, two sacks in each hand, arms down at her sides. “So, um…” She pauses and inhales a sharp breath, exhaling it just as quickly. “You wanna grab coffee sometime? I’d really like to catch up. Hear all about the new boyfriend.”
