Emerge into Forever

by Andrea Michelle

  “Just got a tattoo. You?”

  He hums, “New ink, huh? What’d ya get?”

  I smile, “I’ll send you a pic later.”

  “Ah. Is this going to be a peek-a-boo kind of pic? Will I see naughty bits?”

  I snort. Okay, so hasn’t relented on flirting. But why would he? He’s always been one helluva flirter and I love that about him. “Uh, no. You will not. It’s on my wrist.”

  He gets silent. Too silent. “Josh, you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Can’t wait to see it,” he says dryly with a hint of sadness laced in his tone.

  I don’t like it. “Emily got her lip pierced,” I deflect from it.

  “That’s cool.”

  “Yeah.”

  And the awkwardness of our weird, “friend zone” kind of conversation ensues. At least he doesn’t ask about the weather. I hear Collin’s voice in the background.

  “What are y’all doing tonight?” I ask, sitting down in the chair and glancing to Emily, hoping she isn’t scheduling a booty call.

  This is Emily. She doesn’t date, she hooks up for a while. She falls in love a lot…and fast. She gives it away way too easily and then she gets her heart broken. The boys she claims to date aren’t just, “dating” her and truth be told she’s not them, either. They get what they want, she gives them what they want and then it’s done. She moves on to the next guy, her next fix. It’s like her drug. Collin was the exception. And right now, her heart is sad because of him. Her high is control and she’s not in control right now. Way to get it back? Seduction 101 on Brandt. Playing. Reset the pawns in her game and gamble.

  “I’m playing at the bar, tonight. Collin is my wing man,” Josh says.

  “Wing man, huh? You plan on hooking up with one of your groupies?” I joke, but he doesn’t find it funny. Not one bit.

  “Fuck no. Not that kind of wingman. That’s not funny, Shaw,” he growls.

  “Sorry, Parker. I was just joking.” I was. I know he’s true to his word. He’s waiting for me to get my shit together.

  “Hey, how’s Collin been?” I ask curiously and changing the subject.

  “Aloof. Why?”

  “Em told me they broke up.”

  “Yeah, I kind of knew that. It’s just temporary.”

  “Ya think?”

  “I know,” he says with certainty.

  I look over at her place a manicured hand on Brandt’s shoulder. I watch him find a way to touch her as well. A hand on the small of her back. They laugh. I can’t help but think what Josh thinks he knows is accurate.

  Some things just fall apart.

  Like us.

  “So what are you playing? Something of yours?” I ask, curious about his new stuff. Wondering if it’s about being in love, or being apart?

  I hear his deep sigh in my ear. “Nah, just covers. I haven’t sung anything original since the night I broke my best friend’s heart.”

  I whisper his name, “Josh.” I have no other words.

  “It’s okay, pretty girl. I hope you love what I sing tonight, even though it’s not my own words,” he says.

  Pretty girl. Just hearing it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Confused, I ask, “How will I hear it? By the way, I love everything you sing,” I admit.

  I love you.

  He laughs and I let the sound seep into my veins. “Collin is recording it. New YouTube video for our channel dedicated to my number one fan.”

  Ah. Our channel. I keep forgetting about that. We have fans. Well, he has fans. Lots of them.

  Since our channel went live, Josh has been adding songs he plays to it. We have a shit-ton of subscribers. He keeps asking me to do the same, but I haven’t had the courage yet. My music is private. I’m the girl behind the words, not the girl singing them.

  “I look forward to watching it. You better not forget your number one fan when you get picked up one day,” I joke. I believe wholeheartedly it will happen. He’s amazing.

  I can hear his smile in his words. “I’d never in a million years forget about you, sweetheart. Besides, I’m singing to you tonight. Just through a computer screen instead of in person.”

  My heart skips a beat. “Have I told you before how much I love your voice and when you sing to me?”

  He hums, “Mm, baby. You keep saying sweet things like this and I’m going to have to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.”

  I laugh and I mean really laugh. Apparently, the sound of it breaks the spell between Brandt and Emily because they both look at me and grin.

  Without thinking I blurt out, “I love you,” while still laughing. I freeze and softly gasp. No longer laughing.

  He chuckles and groans at the same time. “That’s good, baby because I fucking love you, too.”

  Seconds tick by and he clears his throat. “Well then, bestie…I think I should get off the phone now. Can I call you tonight after my set or, uh, sometime?” he asks nervously.

  I shut my eyes and internally scold myself. I know he’s backpedaling. “Of course you can. Can’t wait,” I say softly.

  “Later, pretty girl,” he says in the low voice that makes my tummy somersault.

  “Bye, Josh.”

  I’ve been baking like a crazy person: cakes, cupcakes, cinnamon rolls, muffins—everything except brownies. Never brownies even though I have the mix in the pantry now. Too many memories attached to that box to go there. The apartment smells like heaven and feels like hell. I feel anxious and on edge. Like I need something and I’m not getting it. Like a bird trapped in its cage. To distract myself, I bake.

  I’ve been going at it since five in the morning and it’s almost 9:00 a.m. now. I’ve made blueberry muffins and now pancakes from scratch.

  Right now, though, I'm standing in the kitchen staring at my phone on the dining room table where I placed it last night after Josh made my heart ache, after tweets about him went trending. I placed it there and proceeded to become Martha Stewart for the duration of the morning. Shit, I should get points because the liquor called my name and I told the bottle to fuck off. I sit down at the table and hold my phone that I know has one missed call, no voice mail, followed by a text message and a video link that has me wanting to get in my car and leave Texas behind.

  Josh: I’M SURE YOU’RE ASLEEP & THAT’S WHY YOU AREN’T ANSWERING YOUR PHONE. WISHING YOU THE SWEETEST OF DREAMS. HERE’S THE VIDEO. THEY MIGHT NOT BE MY OWN WORDS, BUT I MEAN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. CALL ME. x

  I was asleep when he had called, but I was kind of awake after I read his text. I was forced awake when my phone started tweeting like I had a damn parakeet in my room from all the notifications. That sound woke Tink up. She wanted that bird and I wanted Josh. I was more than wide-awake when I tapped my finger on the link to his new YouTube video. His song dedicated to me, his number one fan.

  He was sitting on a bar stool with his guitar across his chest. He’s so beautiful, was my first thought. I even paused the video just to stare at him and the features I love so much.

  I hit play and he said, "My best friend told me once that she didn't believe in happy ever after’s. She said fairy tales are make-believe and love stories in reality come with heartache and broken promises. She's a smart girl and all, but I think it was up to me to prove her wrong, and instead I proved her right. I had a good thing going, and could have done just that except I was stupid. Sue me. I'm only 18, well, almost 19 but you know what I mean…young, dumb and all that shit. The thing is I love this girl. She’s more than my best friend. She’s everything. A few months ago, she sang me this song, Pieces by Red, right here in this very bar," he waved his hand to the stage. "She told me that she came to me in pieces but was all mine.”

  He sighed heavily into the microphone, “Mine—four little letters that held so much meaning. I understood that. I made an ass of myself that night, and I let the best piece of me go. Since then I've been in pieces. That's because her pieces and my pieces only work when they are put together."

  He
ran his hand through his hair, making the ends stand on end, his face becoming serious. "If I could get a do over I’d have said, ‘Pretty girl, I love every piece of you. There isn't a single piece I don't need in my life.”

  Collin’s face popped into the camera as he flipped the phone around onto him, “Awww,” he says, drawing a tear line down his cheek and then flipping the phone back around. It made me laugh.

  Josh grabs his pick and begins to strum his chords. “I heard this song a while back and it's been in my head ever since. This is how I feel. Riley Shaw this song is for you, pretty girl." Then he plays Pieces by Andrew Belle in acoustic.

  "Oh, my God!" I told myself as tears had begun streaming down my cheeks and his voice wrapped around me like a blanket. I love him. I need him. Need him like I need air to breathe. I played it over and over again until I couldn’t breathe from my tears.

  I got in the shower and did my ritual of pouring the shower gel he uses all over my loofah. I ran his scent all over my body wishing it were his hands. Then I realized that I've successfully gone mad. A girl doesn't buy her ex-boyfriends shower gel and bath in it just because she misses the way he smells on her skin, does she? I did. I needed his scent to remind me that no other scent would soothe me, touch me like his. His scent to erase the other scent that haunts me when I sleep. Every time I sleep.

  I shut the water off and fought the urge to drink. I didn’t want to numb this feeling. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to be submerged in it. I wanted all of him. I wanted it more than anything in my life. But he was there and I was here and nothing had changed. Yet, everything was different.

  So, that is how I ended up here in my kitchen covered in flour and the smell of a bakery invading our small apartment. Staring at my phone on the table like my life is inside of it.

  Emily walks in the kitchen groggy. She gives the kitchen a once over with her mouth hung agape. “Did Betty Crocker throw up in here?” she asks with a hoarse voice.

  I look around at my mess, “Yeah, something like that.”

  "What is it?" she asks.

  I run a hand across my face, leaving flour all over it. “This," I say, tapping at my phone to pull up his song, pushing it over to her. She plops down in the chair next to me.

  She smiles softly. "I saw it."

  “You did?” I ask.

  She nods. "He's crazy, but so sweet. Did you see all these comments?" she asks, scrolling down.

  I lift a brow and shake my head. "Comments? Weren’t the tweets enough? Gah. I still can't believe you made us a YouTube channel. You're the one that is crazy, bitch. And now he is. You created a monster. My Twitter went nuts last night because of him."

  Her eyes go wide and she hands me my phone. "I know he went trending. Read this shit, Ri. The fans love him."

  I look and just whoa... There are a ton of comments from people, probably teenie bopper girls, but still...it’s awesome for him.

  "OMG could you be any cuter? I just want to lick your face. That's not weird."

  "I know right. I cannot confirm, or deny that I am kissing my screen right now. LOL. Josh, I'll be your piece, baby."

  "What a p***y. Singing a song to some girl on YouTube. Damn dude, lose your pair?"

  "WTF? ^^^ He's hot. And btw singing to a girl is hot. Suck it."

  "Riley & Josh are perf. Totes adorbs."

  "Suck it? Y'all don't even speak English. Give him props though...Riley is hot. I'd bang her."

  "Wait! What? Y'all broke up?? No, no. Shawker forever. Riley, forgive him. He's sorry."

  "Marry me, Josh!"

  “I can’t wait to hear what Riley sings back to him. She’s so perf and gorgeous.”

  The comments go on and on. I roll my eyes. "Gah." I place my head on the table. I’m exhausted. "Shawker? We have joined names?" I ask peeking my head up.

  Em nods emphatically. "It's so cute, not a shocker at all."

  I shake my head. "Oh, my God. That was awful,” I laugh. “You know those girls are probably sixteen-ish."

  She laughs, but then gets serious. "Do you have a reply to him?"

  I yawn and stretch my hands out. "Not yet. I love him and that was beautiful and probably the cutest apology ever in the history of apologies, but it doesn't change the fact that's it's almost March and he will be away until June. Or that Natalie is there with him, doing her best to make a play. Or that he fucked me against a wall and left me shattered. Or that he hated me for like a day because he thought something awful about me. Or that I’m a mess. We still can't be together. Ya know?"

  I don’t even know. Every statement is just an excuse I keep using to keep him at arm’s length. I know he’s sorry. I know he won’t give in to Natalie. He loves me. I know it and yet word vomit spills from my lips as to why we can’t be together. It’s crazy.

  She shakes her head, "I get it, but I disagree. He's trying, Riley. Like really, really trying. I wish I had someone to go hang his heart out on the line like that for me," she says with longing.

  I look at my phone screen—it’s frozen on his face where she paused the video—paused on the boy that loves me, and all of my fucked up pieces. I trace his face and wish my finger could reach into the screen and actually feel his skin. That is my Josh. Not the angry, vengeful person that was so mad at me before. But him—the way he was just before he left. Right there behind that screen. Miles and hours away from me.

  I look up to Emily, "I don't know if I want to try again. I just want my best friend back and I’m getting that. Maybe forcing more was what ruined us.” It burns coming out of my mouth and I don’t know who I’m trying to convince by continuing to say that, but the more I repeat the words I don’t mean, the more I think I’m trying to convince myself. Before she can comment I add, “What about you? Have you talked to Collin? Are you going to cut him a break?"

  She shakes her head. "No, and I don't know if we should be together right now, either. He's there and I'm here. I wanted to follow him to Louisiana with you, but I could get over there and be a witness to things I don't want to see. And then what?" she explains.

  “I get it. We could just become lesbians and say screw it.” I offer with a giggle while getting up from the table listening to her laugh. I start packing up the different baked goodies I’ve made into plastic bags and tidying my mess when my phone on the table begins ringing.

  I glance at Emily, who looks at the screen. “It’s your mom.”

  I sigh both feeling relieved and disappointed. Shaking it off, I answer the phone. My mom sounds horrible. “Honey, I need you. Are you busy?” she asks between coughs that sound like barking.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “I’m sick. The girls have a cheer clinic this weekend, my momma went home and James has to work. I need someone to take care of Jocelyn. I don’t want to get her sick, and I feel terrible. Please, I need you.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat for a few reasons. One, my mom never needs me. Two, Jocelyn fills me with a lot of emotions, but she also calms them. So I agree, as if I wouldn’t. I promised myself to be a better daughter, a better sister, a better Riley.

  I’m sitting in the rocking chair in Jocelyn’s nursery. I have her swaddled in my arms while my mom sleeps in her room. She has her tiny fingers wrapped around my thumb as I rock her. Her beautiful eyes stared at me while I sang her a lullaby until she succumbed to sleep. I continue to hum as I rock her because it just feels natural.

  Everything about her soothes me.

  Everything about her amazes me.

  She is the little being that I had been so bitter about before she was born. I was scared of her, of who she was to our family and how her being born affected Josh and I. I still worry about it. I’m still scared of her, but for different reasons. I also love her so completely. I never thought that would be possible, yet it came instantly.

  Now, I look at her and all her precious perfection and I can't picture not having her in my life. She's beautiful. Her features fascinate me, the lightness in her hair, whi
ch is beautiful in its ash blonde color. It’s so soft and smells heavenly. Her eyes are probably going to be like my own. They are a bluish gray color right now, but we were told they might change in hue, as she grew older. Her skin is a perfect olive just like Josh's and not like my own.

  I realize as I stare at her sleeping in my arms that I am picking apart the things that make her like me, and the things that make her like him. For a moment it freaks me out that I was doing so, but was it so odd? She is a part of him because of his Dad. She is a part of me because of my mother. She held pieces of both of us just like our own child would one day.

  Whoa! What?

  Just the thought makes my heart ache. I long for that future with him. I want it like I’ve never wanted anything in my life, but could I have it?

  “What would you think of us, Jocelyn? If your brother and your sister were together? How would you feel if you saw us kissing one day? Would it confuse you? Would people make comments about it?” I whisper the questions to her out loud stupidly. Those are my genuine thoughts and concerns. For the longest time I worried about how she affected Josh and I, but as I’m holding her in my arms I’m wondering how Josh and I will affect her.

  I have no idea how long I sat rocking her and humming when I lift my eyes to see I have a visitor in the doorway watching me intently.

  My mom is standing there with tears in her eyes. “I hate that you worry about this,” she says in a hoarse voice. “I hate that you and Josh aren’t together right now, or that you even sit here and look at her with doubts about where you belong, which is in his arms.”

  A tear slides down my cheek and I wipe it away quickly. “Mom,” I say sadly.

  I kiss my baby sisters forehead and inhale her sweet baby powder scent letting it calm me. I carry her to her crib and tuck her in gently. Then I walk to my mom and shoo her out the room. I’m here so she can rest and feel better, not worrying about me and my love life, or lack thereof. I tell her so.