Page 89 of The Backtrack
He brought his hand up and she pressed her cheek into his palm and he stroked his thumb along the line of her cheekbone. “Are you sure?”
She nodded and reached for his hand, and he squeezed her back. She wasn’t having one of her visions of being in high school, but her stomach still flipped, the way it always had for Damon. “This reminds me, I’ve been meaning to tell you that there’s a song you should add to the playlist.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked curiously.
Sam waved to Jessie, their secret code. And Jessie let out a wolf whistle so loud that the entire outdoor patio went silent for a few blissful seconds. In those moments, Troy of Fall Out Troy took the steps up to the stage. “Hey, everyone,” he said into the waiting microphone. “I’m Troy. I don’t have my band with me tonight, but I got a last-minute request for a very special song.”
Damon opened his mouth, a kind of delighted confusion overtaking him. “What have you done?” he asked.
Sam let go of Damon’s hand and made her way to the steps on the stage. She’d never done anything quite like this, but as she stepped in front of the microphone, she gave Troy a nod. He strummed a few initial times before launching into the song Sam had asked him to play. “One, two, one, two, three, go,” Troy said to her.
And then Sam began to sing an acoustic version of “Still Into You” by Paramore. The words were etched into her brain from memory. But still, she stumbled over a few of the lines as she looked up from the mic and into the crowd at Damon. He watched her, with one hand over his mouth, maybe in shock. The lyrics were sentimental and about still being head over heels in love with someone, even after such a long time together, which felt true to their relationship.
She wasn’t a singer, but Sam sang each word and line like they were a poem written just for them. And Damon held her gaze as she unlatched the mic from the stand and continued to sing to him as she walked down the steps and into the crowd. Sam met Damon in front of the stage, and as she sang the final lines of the song, he began to sing them back to her, too. They were having the duet he’d asked her for, just in a different way than planned.
When the song ended, the crowd at the bar erupted into applause. Sam glanced around, but when she looked back, Damon watched only her.
“Of course,” he said as he brushed hair out of her face, “you’d pick a sappy love song to add to the playlist.”
Sam laughed. “This is a love song, yes, but it’s not sappy. Now, me dressing in our old emo clothes and serenading you? That’s a bit sappy.”
Troy continued to strum the instrumentals to the song in the background. So Damon took Sam’s hands and wrapped them behind his neck, and he began to slow dance with her. Sam let her head rest against his shoulder as they both swayed.
“We never did get to go to prom, in this life or the other one,” Damon said.
Sam looked up and gave a knowing smile. “We were way too cool for it anyway.”
When the song ended, Damon’s index finger gently lifted her chin, and they kissed. And while she knew they were in the present, she felt inextricably pulled back in time. Like she was still in high school and it was the first time they were kissing all over again. She’d never left, and Damon had always been part of her life, and would continue to be. What was between them was electric and alive and pulsing.
Eventually, Pearl shouted, “Get a room!”
Sam pulled back and touched her fingers to her lips. She wanted more, but then Damon asked, “What now?”
And she knew the definitive answer to his question. “We get to figure out the rest of our lives together,” she said.
38
There were hardly any waves as Sam and Damon stared out at the water. They’d spent the night on the beach, cuddled on a striped blanket as they talked through their hopes for their futures—together and individually. Sam wanted to continue operating as an international flight pilot, and Damon wanted to take his small-town beer and distribute it globally. Sam needed to spend more time with Grandma Pearl that didn’t involve her having to travel, and Damon would need to be in Tybee regularly to continue operations at the brewery.
But they would live together. They’d spend six months in Paris, then six in Tybee, to start, and reevaluate from there. While Sam flew, Damon would travel to new European locations to make relationships with restaurants and distributors to introduce them to Band Practice Brews. When they were based in Tybee, Sam could still fly out of the Atlanta hub, but make use of her time off to spend with Pearl and Damon. They had an initial flight plan and, maybe more importantly, they had each other.
There was something between them, though. More specifically, it was the CD player. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so torn about a CD,” Damon said.
“Not sure that’s true. Remember when Farrah got pissed at you for eating all of her Cocoa Puffs and then broke your New Found Glory CD in half?” Sam cringed at the memory of Damon’s face when he found it.
Damon bit his lip, perhaps remembering the same moment. “That was my favorite CD. She knew that.”
“I remember tears.” Sam let her head rest on his shoulder. “And you refused to throw it out. It just sat on your desk, snapped in two, like a memorial.”
“I don’t think I ever did throw it out. It’s probably still somewhere in my parents’ house.”
They hadn’t intended to catch the sunrise, but the warm light sliced across the top of the water as Sam dug her toes into the sand. Soon after, Byron made his usual trek down the beach, whistling the same wakeup call he’d soon play.
“Morning to ya,” Byron called out to them, and Sam waved back.
The silence stretched comfortably until Byron placed his lips on the bagpipes and began to play. Sam nestled herself against Damon, rubbing her forehead on his arm like a cat looking for pets. He obliged by tucking her in close to his side.
When she’d arrived in Tybee, her whole body had buzzed from the lack of control she felt over her situation. But now she found herself humming pleasantly from the closeness to Damon and the rhythm of this place.
