Page 29 of Just Trouble

Give me one reason to stay here.

Exactly, Tracy. Exactly. My thoughts to your lips.

Tell me that you have a soundtrack for your life, a mix that follows you wherever you go and provides the background to all your significant moments. I do. I’ve always had one. Even before there was the band, there was the music. And it’s funny, but being back in Empire has conjured up that old playlist of eighties and nineties hits.

It’s not as good as the playlist I’ve had since, the one of our band’s songs and the songs I was writing, a glorious mix that was ours alone. The best, though, is when a new song appears in my thoughts, tempting me to listen, taunting me with possibilities, a melody that has to be coaxed and urged toward a full song. I haven’t heard one of those since that fight with Taylor.

The music is gone.

I’m suddenly aware of the void within me. I refuse to think about it, not here in this store. I think of that old playlist instead.

Tracy Chapman was on it. The Rolling Stones(Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. INXSDevil Inside. Billy Idol’sRebel Yell. I smile, realizing they’re all songs of teenage mutiny. My anthems, at least while I lived here. I have time to think that my T-shirt choices are right in sync with that before I see the anomaly.

I’m in Empire by choice this time. In those days, I wanted to get out of Empire more than anything, but I decided to come back. I could drive right out of town right this minute and no one would care.

It’s jarring to realize that Tracy is singing for a different version of me.

Even weirder, I have no firm plan to leave, even though I can.

Disconcerted, I head for the cash counter.

“Mad, Bad & Dangerous 2 Know,” she says, correctly interpreting the initials in the band logo on my T-shirt. “Aren’t they over?”

Ouch. I hide my flinch, but just barely. “Think so?”

“Oh yeah. Ages without a new song.” She chews her gum, blows a bubble and pops it, then nods at the shirt I’m wearing. “I’ll give you ten bucks for it, or fifteen credit. Vintage and all.”

Vintage.Vintage!This shirt was brand new a year ago and this is the first time I’ve worn it. I had to work up to flaunting the logo again, and right now, it’s working for me. Being back in Empire makes me feel MB&D2K, for sure. I’m ready to kick down some doors, wake people up, provoke change.

Not sell the shirt off my back.

Okay, maybe I haven’t changed that much.

“Thanks. I still like it, though.”

“Suit yourself. I’m all for a little nostalgia.” She rings everything up and I pay. “Someone told me the front man was from here,” she says as Tracy finishes the song.

“I heard that, too.” I manage this deadpan.

“Yeah? Maybe it’s true then. I thought she was putting me on.” She flashes a smile. “It’s not like he’ll ever come back.”

“You might be surprised,” I say, but she shrugs and starts singing along to the next tune.

Roxy Music, in case you’re wondering.More Than This.Not on my playlist but a good song. Evocative. I ask her what radio station she’s listening to, and it’s the one from Havelock we used to listen to in high school. They must be playing the same music, which is okay.

I linger until the end of the song, then she’s giving me the side-eye so I leave. It has been a while since anyone thought I was a shop-lifter, but that happened in Empire, too.

I treat myself to a sad-looking tomato-and-cheese sandwich from the convenience store across the street. There’s a boombox on the back counter, banging out salsa music so loud that I can’t hear anything the guy says to me. There are no other options for lunch in town, at least as far as I can see, and this sandwich hasn’t reached its best-before date. Call it a win. White bread, though. I eat it on the way back to the motel, thinking.

The thing is that if love is real, then it’s still untrustworthy. Love, or the illusion of love, is the justification for zillions of mistakes.

Like me. There’s a truth that’s tough to avoid in this town. I exist because of the folly of love—and its effect on my mom.

Is it a mistake for me to fall for Daph? The result might not be good for either of us, as much as I hate to admit it. I should be amused that I’m feeling so protective of her—Daph can fight her own battles, I suspect—but I am and it feels right.

Maybe that’s part of the package.

No, if I need a reminder of the price of love, then I should visit my mom. It’s a sound plan and a better way to spend the day than hanging around, waiting for Daph to come back.

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