Page 37 of Crash & Burn

I don’t know if I recognize the sadness because it is the same kind I see in my reflection, or maybe, just maybe, I have the same effect he has on me.

“Not anymore,” I tell him.

I feel more words form in my mouth, but I watch as the mask slips back on and the knowing gaze I thought I saw turns back into a wide smile.

“Your loss, sunshine,” he says before turning back to face the front.

Sunshine.

The nickname is less than fitting, especially when the one calling me that wears one of the brightest smiles I have ever seen.

Even though there is something dark about it too.

“Not my loss, actually,” I say as he scrolls on Spotify. “Wouldn’t want to spend the next four and a half hours listening to whatever shit you like.” I give him a playful scoff, resorting back to our usual banter because it is comfortable. More comfortable than what was happening before.

“Ouch,” Eddie says, bringing a hand to his heart as if my words physically hurt him. “Careful there. Friends don’t call other friend’s music taste shit.”

I see Mateo in the rearview mirror pretending not to be amused by us, but he also has no trace of interest in joining the conversation.

“No friend of mine has shitty music taste,” I argue, as if I have any platform to make this argument, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

“You don’t even know what I listen to.”

“Yeah, but I know what you write.”

“Hey!” Mateo intervenes, no doubt only because the band was alluded to. “Our music is anything but shit.”

“Yeah, listen to your brother,” Eddie retorts, looking over his shoulder. They’re ganging up on me, but it is nothing I can’t take.

I’m also glad Eddie can take a joke about his music.

I actually really like Cross My Heart’s music, and Eddie writes the majority of it. It is a little harder than stuff I usually listen to, but I can definitely appreciate it.

Not that I would ever give Mateo, or Eddie, the satisfaction.

I stick my tongue out on him before putting my headphones on.

He winks at me before turning around again.

I ignore the flip in my stomach and hover my thumb over the play icon to start my podcast episode as I hear the beginning notes of “Wrapped Around Your Finger” by Post Malone. I would recognize any of the songs on that album within the first two seconds, even if it has been months since I listened to a full song aside from Cross My Heart’s.

The verse continues, and my temptation gets the best of me. I take my headphones off and rest my head against the window. I listen to the words, feel the subtle beat of the bass, and I turn my head to watch out the window as we drive. We are cruising on the highway now, and it is early enough that we have no traffic to worry about.

For a moment, I forget why I ever stopped listening to music, especially in the car, where it is the most fun to sing along. Where it is the most fun to find a song that fits whatever I’m feeling and then embrace those feelings.

Then, my mind wanders as the chorus begins to play. My lips threaten to sync up with the song as I wonder if these lyrics would fit with the song Nico wrote.

And, just like that, my mind brings me back to those last few memories of him. The memories I want to keep away and hold close at the same time.

If I could only remember those chords, the ones hidden so deep in my mind.

I need this song out of my head.

My eyes find Mateo’s in the rearview mirror again, but I look back out the window as I put my headphones back on and distract myself with a true crime case I already know but will drown out the music the guys will be playing.

It isn’t until we are an hour into the drive, and I’m on my second podcast episode, that I begin to feel my eyelids get heavy.

Just before I drift to sleep, I realize I forgot to grab my Cross My Heart T-shirt out of the dryer.

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