Page 57 of Broken Melody
“Maybe, I don’t really know. But I would have loved to be involved in performing the science behind the act of violence in order to help bring a killer to justice. I find the whole thing fascinating.”
“I was a complete nerd in high school,” she says. “A loner.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I tell her. She’s gorgeous, but more than that she’s smart, funny, kind, talented – it’s hard to believe.
“It’s true. I was the weird kid that was in foster care because her parents died. People tend to shun things that are different from what they understand.”
Instead of telling her something lame like I’m sorry, or asking her more about something that’s likely painful, I try to think of something else I can tell her. “I lost my virginity when I was seventeen, in a car, after prom my junior year in high school,” I tell her. “It was with a girl named Jessica Ward. It was awkward, fast, and at the time I thought it was awesome because…well… I was seventeen.”
She giggles again and I love the sound. “Britt is my first true friend. I love her and I can’t imagine myself without her. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like in high school if I had had a friend I could talk to, someone to turn to. Sometimes I worry I’m doing this friend thing all wrong and I get afraid she’ll leave and I’ll be all alone again.”
“Not going to happen. And now you not only have Britt but you have me, Nixon, Henley, Jace, Rocco, and that guy at the bar you worked at.”
“Dusty.”
“Yeah, him. See? You’re surrounded by people now.”
“You guys are only putting up with me because you have to,” she says and the sadness in her eyes makes me want to punch myself in the face for being an asshole to her at times.
“No, that’s not true. We may have been upset by the idea of having a female join – but you weren’t the real target. We’re all really glad that if we had to have someone join us, that it was you. You’re like a fungus that grows on people.”
“Gee, thanks,” she chuckles softly, but then sobers quickly.
“I hate seeing you sad,” I confess to her.
“Shh, this is helping,” she says. When she sees my look of disbelief she adds, “Really. I promise.” She shifts and pulls something light pink from under her and pulls it to her chest.
“What’s that?” I ask reaching out and touching the threadbare faded fabric.
“Oh,” she looks down at it and I think her cheeks pinken a little. “It’s uh, it’s my baby blanket.”
“Your baby blanket?” I ask curiously.
“Yeah. I’ve had it…well since I was a baby. It’s one of the only things I still have that my parents gave to me.”
“That’s sweet,” I tell her and give it a caress before pulling away.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she says with a little smile.
“I’m not! I said that it’s sweet.”
“Yeah, sure. Until you go and tell all the guys about it or something.”
“I would do no such thing.”
“Alright, I’m holding you to that,” she tells me.
I hold out my pinky finger, “I swear.” She smiles and grips my pinky on her own and we shake on it.
“Your turn,” she tells me. “I told you about my blanket and Britt. You owe me a good one,” she teases.
I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s just because I trust her. Maybe it’s because we’re huddled together in her bed like this and it feels quite like nothing can hurt us in here. Such a childlike way to think and behave, but it’s comforting in that way. Maybe it’s because I’ve never said it out loud before. Sometimes I feel like it’s building up within me so much that it’s going to burst out of me, and if I’m not careful it will be ugly and out of control. I’d rather talk about it with someone like Sailor than have it come out in an ugly way with anyone else. That’s the way it is with guilt though. The weight of it crushes you until you can’t help but reveal it. Until holding onto it becomes much worse than simply confessing your ugly truth. If nothing else then at the very least doing so makes you feel like your soul has a chance of becoming untarnished once again. That releasing the weight of it will finally make you…free. Maybe it’s all of these, or none of these that make me tell Sailor about my own secret.
“I was very much in love once,” I tell her and she stills. “After the disaster that Jessica was in high school, I ended up falling for a girl named Miranda. She and I were chemistry partners our senior year. We always joked that it was more than science we created together that year, it was also love.” I laugh softly, “Lame right?” Sailor shakes her head no, but other than that she hardly moves. “Oh come on, I write songs for a living and I couldn’t come up with something better than that?”
“I like it,” she whispers.
“But, when you fall in love, or even dream of it happening to you, no one tells you that it isn’t always easy. Love while amazing, beautiful, exciting, fulfilling, and earth shattering can also be hard, sad, hurtful, and sometimes ugly. Do you know what I mean?” I ask her.
