Page 53 of Resurrection
My parents snored like it was their job, and the whole house creaked and groaned with every movement I made. Or, at least, it felt like that to me when I was trying to sneak out through the kitchen door shortly after midnight with my guitar case on my shoulder.
I’d written a song and wanted to play it for Naomi.
When I finally got outside, the air was cool, and she was waiting in the back alley, her arms crossed and her foot tapping like I was the late one. "What took you so long?" she asked, the frustration in her voice evident. She wasn’tthe kind of girl to keep her feelings hidden, and she spoke her mind if something didn’t go her way.
"My parents took forever to fall asleep," I explained, making a face.
And even though she rolled her eyes, they still sparkled in the dark, more alive than the stars.
"Then don’t tell me to meet you at twelve-thirty if you know they’re still up at that time."
"They usually aren’t. It was an…anomaly."
She shrugged, her hair moving like silk in the moonlight. "Sure. And I’m just here waiting on some guy who keeps writing songs but never plays them for me."
She was right. Up until now, I hadn’t had the guts to share my songs with anyone. I’d played a couple of tunes for my parents once, but that was because my Dad used to be good on a guitar and I wanted his opinion.
But if I was serious about my career in music, I needed to learn how to battle that fear of performing my original work in front of strangers. That was why I wanted to play my music for Naomi tonight. She was familiar, comfortable. She was the first step.
"Come on, Strings," Naomi teased. "It can’t be that bad."
I sighed.
What’s the worst that could happen?
She could make fun of you, dude.
"One of these days, I’ll kill your brother for giving me that nickname," I muttered.
I was stalling, I realized.
"What happened between you two anyway?" Naomi latched onto the opening, and I wished I hadn’t mentioned Adri. "You were inseparable when you moved here."
I shrugged, trying to seem like I didn’t care, like it didn’t bother me. "He’s not in high school anymore."
"So you just stopped talking because he graduated?"
"Ask him yourself."
"Fine, don’t tell me."
The air was fresh, and the night felt alive around us. "Let’s go?" I asked, hoping she’d stop trying to figure out the beef between Adri and me.
We strolled toward the park through the back alley, where the quiet of the town made every step seem louder. Naomi's arm brushed mine, and I was sure she could hear my heart thudding like a drum. "So," I started, trying to sound casual. "I might have been working on something new."
"Really?" Her voice was full of curiosity. "Are you actually going to play it for me tonight?" She gestured at my guitar case.
"Only if you promise not to laugh."
"Cross my heart," she said, and I knew she meant it.
The park was empty, lit by a single streetlamp that made shadows stretch and yawn across the grass. We got to our favorite tree and sat on a bench, and I took out my beat-up Fender from the case. The wood was cool and familiar under my hands. Still, I was nervous.
Naomi watched, her eyes wide and big and expectant, and suddenly, my fingers felt all clumsy and wrong. I’d practiced this song so much that I could play it my sleep, but she just made my mind and body go all haywire.
At fifteen, it was a horrible, horrible feeling. The feeling of no control.
I strummed a few chords, letting the sound echo in the night. "Okay," I said, trying to swallow my nerves. "Here it goes."
