Page 42 of Broken Melody
“I guess I just assumed you could read music…but now realize I didn’t ask. But it obviously was a moot concern – it’s obvious you do know how. So, I’m just wondering what your background is since we never really discussed it at length,” I tell her.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I can read it fine,” Sailor says to me shortly, disregarding the rest of my inquiry and possessing a look that I was stupid for even wondering. “Which song did you want to sing next?”
“How about ‘Just Breathe’?” Nixon suggests.
Sailor nods and without a word, because clearly speaking isn’t going over well with her right now, I begin. We get through this song and the next with no issues. The songs are flawless. I mean how is that possible? It sounded…fine…like we’ve been doing this for some time. We just had to restart at one point because we got so caught up in listening to Sailor we got a little off beat. She really is phenomenal. I know the guys agree because we all keep looking at each other with looks clearly stating that we can’t believe this girl and our luck at finding her, of making music with her. Our sounds blend perfectly together.
We decide to start work on a new song since we made it through the others so quickly. The song, ‘Fire’, is a song about how a new love feels – like your heart and blood is a raging fire of love. It’s an upbeat tempo, but there are a few places where the harmony sounds off. We try new things, work to make it cohesive, and after some trials and errors we have a good song. What impresses me most are Sailor’s suggestions throughout. Trying different notes to invoke a slightly different harmony, incorporating tempo changes where needed, and adding a strong bass where there had been none. It’s the first rehearsal and she’s already proven how wrong my preconceived notions were about her.
“Alright, let’s take a break for lunch. Where do you guys want to place an order? We can have it delivered or get someone to run out for us,” Rocco suggests.
“I can fly,” Sailor offers. “There’s a sub shop right down the street. Sound good to you guys?”
“Sounds good to me, I’m starving,” Henley says.
“Me too,” Nixon adds. “And I still have a headache from hell,” he begins rubbing his temples.
Sailor grabs something out of her purse and hands it to Nixon, “Here, take some ibuprofen,” she instructs, then grabs her notebook and pencil. “Tell me what you guys want to eat,” she says and begins nibbling on her pencil while she looks at each of us waiting for us to respond. I’ve never wanted to be a pencil so bad in my life.
Rocco, Nixon and Henley give her their orders and when she turns to me and her eyes meet mine, I blurt, “I’ll drive you.”
“No, that’s okay. I can go.”
“I insist. You’ll need some help carrying everything anyway.”
“Okay,” she says hesitantly. “We’ll be back,” she tells the guys and picks up her purse then looks at me expectantly.
I open the door for her and place my hand on her lower back guiding her through. I swear she stiffens at the contact and that makes me frown deeply. Leading her to my car, I hold the passenger door open for her and when she’s in run to my side. She’s quiet as I start the car and my mind is turning wondering how the hell I bring up last night, if I should bring it up, and trying to decide what I want to say and how I want to say it.
“Practice is going well so far,” she says and I nod, feeling irritated at her obviously lame attempt at conversation.
I put the car in drive ready to go, but then sigh and place it back in park once more. She looks at me curiously as I turn to her. “About last night,” I begin. Before I can get further she holds up a hand.
“No, please. Nothing needs to be said.”
“I think it does. Besides, you haven’t been acting yourself with me all morning.”
“Myself? You don’t even know me,” Sailor scoffs and the comment takes me back. She’s right, I don’t know her well, but I do know a tense woman when I see one.
“I don’t have to know everything about you to know that you have barely maintained eye contact with me today, that any time you have to talk to me that your answers are short. Come on, let’s talk about this.”
“Really, there’s nothing to say.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Sailor,” I state angrily wishing she would yell at me, be sarcastic with me, something. This passive shit is pissing me off.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m not anything.”
And maybe that’s worse. I don’t want her to feel nothing. I finally say it, because one of us has to, “I can’t help the fact that those girls showed up.”
“Don’t worry about it, Maddy,” she mocks, “I’m a big girl. Yeah, we had just been going at it right before that. And yeah, maybe I had visions of getting out of there and letting you rip my clothes off and fuck the hell out of me,” she says and my mind totally stalls for a moment at her words. I see us again in that closet and my fingers twitch at wanting to touch her again, “But I was drunk, and clearly out of my mind, so there’s really nothing to discuss. Let it go. I certainly did. I was a bit concerned about my poor judgement last night and felt a bit awkward, maybe even embarrassed, so I’m sure that’s what you were sensing earlier.”
Her words make me freeze, “Wait, let’s go back to the visions of us naked that you had,” I say with a smile, but it quickly turns into a frown when it isn’t returned. There is no humor to be found on her face.
“Like I said, I was drunk, and it was stupid. You and I just met, but more than that, we are now in business together. Anything between us would be an interruption – senseless, ridiculous, and unprofessional. I don’t even know what I was thinking,” she says.
“This has everything to do with those girls coming into the room. I can’t help my past, Sailor. I can’t change it. Believe me, if I could, I would.”
“Trust me, I understand that better than you might believe. Wishing you could change your past,” she says softly. “All I know is that I don’t want to get involved in something that’s going to create drama. In something that is doomed before it even begins. I’m really sorry if I led you on, but I want to be friends, and just get used to working together. I’m not in a place where I can even think about anything else. I’m not sure either of us are.”
There are a million things I want to say. Things that run through my mind so fast I can’t even grasp them all, but instead I nod. I nod and I start the car and take us to get food. Because it’s clear I’m not going to change her mind. It’s clear that my stupid mistakes have once again fucked up something that could have been great. Another thing I’m going to have to apologize and make amends for.
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say. Thanks for giving me a choice in this and letting me explain,” I state sarcastically. She tries to say something else to me but this time, I hold up my hand and stop her from speaking. The only time we speak again is as we order lunch for everyone.
