Songbird_A Small-Town Romantic Comedy

by Caroline Tate

  Sweet Tennessee is behind the booth, and he grabs us each the same shirt. Beth takes them with an open hand, but she can't peel her eyes from the lead singer, nearly star-struck.

  I want to tell her he's probably some grungy asshole, not to waste her sight on him, but I don't. "You think Mason will want a shirt?" I ask.

  She shrugs. "He said they're a waste of money. He's a pill sometimes— bitter and hard to swallow." Eyeing me, she's unsure of how I'll react.

  I laugh genuinely and feel especially close to this girl— the younger sister I never had. "He's not so bad most of the time. What if we just get him one of those hats?"

  Beth nods and stands on tiptoes pointing toward the hat with electric blue writing. "Yeah, this will help hide his awful hair," she laughs.

  As the lanky guy with long blonde hair is ringing me up, I pull my phone out of my back pocket to check for any response from the Boxley Brothers. No phone calls, no messages. A part of me wants to be upset at the situation, but I have to remind myself that my request was pretty heinous.

  As Beth and I speed walk back to Mason and our spots in the grass, we hear the opening notes of the opening band, Forever Blue Sky, starting with an eclectic mix of guitar and something like an electric banjo.

  I drop down next to Mason on the grass and set his new hat in his lap.

  Looking over at me, he grunts. "What's this?"

  "It's not obvious? It's your new Sweet Tennessee cap," I say, flashing him a smile. "Now you can match Beth and me."

  "Great, thank you," he laughs as Beth shushes both of us from her spot in front of us. "Guess I'm over here just living my best life with you, huh?"

  And the phrase makes my heart soar.

  I've been to enough shows to be able to predict the sets with almost perfect accuracy. Sweet Tennessee is no different. They open with their second most famous song, drawing enormous cheers from the crowd and lead into their newer singles before ending with their number one. Despite it being predictable, it's a solid show.

  After the show, we all pile into the hot car.

  "That was the best birthday ever," Beth sings, as we wait in line to pull out of the parking lot. "That bassist is the cutest guy I've ever seen."

  The venue has gone dark, our primary source of light now the lampposts every few

  yards. Mason has the air conditioner on full blast and all four windows rolled down to air us out from the heat.

  "Can we turn on some Sweet Tennessee, please?" she says from the backseat.

  "We can. But the high of a concert lasts longer if you don't pollute it with other music afterward."

  "What song do you want?" I ask Beth.

  "I like the one they played last. I don't know what it's called though."

  "I'll see if I can find it." Taking Mason's phone from the center console, I search for her requested song. Mason looks over at me and smiles something inquisitive, and I feel my heartbeat quicken.

  Suddenly, Beth sighs into the night air. "All I want to do for the rest of my life is follow bands around the country and go to shows every night. Is that a job?"

  "Afraid not. That's called being a groupie, and you will one-hundred-percent not be doing that," Mason says.

  "It's true," I agree. "My boyfriend from high school played guitar for a local band. After we graduated, I followed them around the state all summer. It's basically a lot of smelly guys in a broken-down van trying to scrounge together enough courage and gas money to make it from one city to the next. Not very appealing."

  Beth gives a jealous whine and throws her head back against the headrest.

  "Stop making it sound so cool!" Mason shouts with a laugh.

  "I'm not, it's the truth, I say in defense. But Beth has dissolved into a fit of giggles from the backseat.

  Not hearing another word from Beth for the rest of the song, I turn in my seat to make sure she's okay, but she's fallen asleep, her head crooked to the side and her phone clutched in her hand.

  "She's out," I whisper to Mason. "Wasn't a bad concert first concert, right?"

  He grins at me and shakes his head. "It was perfect. Thank you for tonight." Reaching over, he takes my hand and slips his warm fingers through mine.

  "Not fair." I shake my head at him. "You paid for the tickets."

  "Beth would've never wanted to go to a show with his nerdy older brother if it weren't for you being there," he says. "You really are pretty fucking cool."

  I can't help but grin at his claim. "Enough with the language," I tease, mirroring his earlier scold. "You know better than to use that word," I whisper.

  The drive back to the Matthews' house is only half an hour with the backed-up traffic leaving the venue, and we ride the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence. I feel tender and easy next to Mason, our fingers intertwined, my head laying against the headrest, eyes shut and listening to the sounds around us. I almost fall asleep myself, kept awake only by the sound of Beth's light snoring from the backseat and the feel of Mason's hot, wide hand in mine.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mason

  Ellie and I sit at the kitchen table surrounded by Beth's opened birthday presents. The light hanging over the sink is dim and throws long shadows on the gray tiled floor. I grab two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. Opening one, I hand it to Ellie. "You are officially my sister's new favorite person," I tell her, taking the seat across from her. "Nothing I do from here on out will ever be cool enough."

  She smiles at me, her eyes radiating an alluring emotion that I'm not sure I've seen from her before. I don't quite know what the emotion is. But in my mind, I decide to pursue it. She sits cross-legged in the kitchen chair studying the blue label on the beer. "I like her," she says, pressing the dark bottle to her pink cheek.

  "Are you hot?"

  "Not any more than usual," she smirks, her sleepy voice full of vocal fry.

  The thing I can't figure about Ellie is that she uses a dry humor as a defense mechanism. I'm not sure what she's defending herself from. My only guess is a vulnerability that's hidden within her. But no matter how high she's built her walls in the past, sitting here across from her and losing myself in her sleepy smile, I decide I'll do anything I can to help lower them.

  "It is pretty warm in here. You want to get some fresh air before bed?"

  Nodding, she takes a sip of her beer.

  "How adventurous you feeling right now? On a scale of one to Jurassic Park?"

  "I think I'm at a five," she says, blinking her tired eyes at me.

  "Perfect." Standing, I dig for the familiar key fob from the kitchen drawer. My heart races at the fact that I'm about to take her to my favorite place in the entire neighborhood. Finding the key, I turn to her. "Leave your beer," I say, taking her hand and pulling her through the french doors. It takes me a few minutes to rummage through the back shed and find my old bicycle. It's slightly bent and a little rusted. But as soon as I top off the tires with air from the pump on the shelf, it's good to go.

  "Come on," I tell Ellie.

  Confused and probably not even interested in leaving the house, she follows me down to the street. "Where are we going?" she asks with all the innocence in the world.

  "Can’t tell. It's a secret. Hop on."

  "What?"

  Straddling the bike, I pat the handlebars motioning for her to climb on and sit. And to my surprise, that's all it takes.

  With a laugh, she turns around and scoots herself back toward me, hopping up to perch on the bar in between my grip. We wobble for a few feet when we take off. But as soon as we pick up speed, we're smooth sailing down the street. Feeling her lean back against my chest, I place my chin on her shoulder to keep her close.

  For a few crazy seconds, she daredevils it and lifts her hands in the air, balancing only on the bar and me. Swear to God, this is my dream girl.

  "Where we going?" she shouts overtop the wind. Her hair is blowing back, whipping me in the face. And I realize we're way too old to be riding a bi
cycle like this. But it's so freeing.

  "You'll see. Does this take you back to childhood?" I yell up to her.

  Shaking her head violently, she squeals as we hit a patch of gravel in the street, and I feel her body tense up. "My childhood was full of Barbie dolls and gymnastics, not drag-racing on Thunder Road."

  "Just call me Danny Zuko," I say in my best T-bird accent, catching her Grease reference.

  As we head down Greenwood Drive, the lamp posts through golden light on us making us absorb color in the night. Neighborhood houses fly by us in sameness, hiding in the dark of night. The speed we're going pulls us fresh bursts of air scented with honeysuckle and lilac from the bushes we pass. After two miles, my legs start burning. I turn us onto Tucker Ridge and stop in front of an expansive house with dark siding.

  "Where are we?" she whispers, not wanting to disturb the peace.

  Out of breath from the pedaling, I let the bike fall over the curb into the front lawn. "Come here," I tell Ellie as I put my hands over her eyes from behind.

  "Mason?"

  Her voice sounds left of angelic. And whatever she's about to ask me, I'll give in.

  "Do you even know where we are? Or is this the blind leading the blind?"

  Chuckling, I kiss her shoulder blade as I lead her up the paved driveway. The heat from the afternoon still radiates from it. "I have my glasses. Don't worry. I want to show you something."

  The only sound in the night is our shoes scuffling on asphalt, the cicadas purring in generous rounds, and the dull echoes of barking dogs dotted elsewhere in the neighborhood. I lead Ellie around the house and through the thick wooden gate that's latched. She swipes at a bug crawling her forearm as I position her to face toward the backyard that looks out over the in-ground pool. "Don't open yet, okay?" I say, removing my hands from her eyes.

  "Please? I miss looking at you."

  My God. The way she says it, the timidness of her voice caught in the air. If that's not the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me, I don't know what is. The simplicity of her admission makes my heart ache. And I wonder if it's possible that I'm already falling for this girl.

  "Okay," I say, giving in. "You can open."

  It's completely dark and we're standing face to face. So close I could lean in and kiss her.

  "Where the fuck are we?"

  "Wait here. Wait for it," I whisper. Hurrying to the back door at the edge of the deck, I unlock it with the key fob. And in the back of my mind, I know this sequence. I used to do it every evening growing up. Flicking the two switches just inside the door and turning the dial, the entire pool that's been hiding in the dark illuminates into a sea of blue and purple lights making it look ethereal.

  Ellie gasps and puts a hand over her mouth. "Holy shit," she says under her breath.

  "No. No shitting in there," I say, shutting the door and joining her at her side.

  "Can we swim?"

  "Of course. We're alone."

  Without a single thread of hesitation, she strips her shirt off over her head, revealing a black bra I've ever seen. Unbuttoning her jean shorts, she steps out of them exposing her mismatched gray underwear. Oblivious to both my presence and my eyes on her, she walks right up to the edge of the pool. Her dark silhouette against the purple water is willowy and graceful. Pulling her arms up over her head, she dives in without so much as a second thought. Her freedom and lack of apprehension is the most lovable thing I've ever witnessed in a woman.

  When she surfaces, she laughs breathlessly and runs her hands down her soaked hair. "Are you coming in?"

  Her eagerness to have me join puts a wild streak in me. Losing my shirt, I toss it over onto the lawn chair by the picnic table. It's not until I drop my jeans that she teasingly catcalls me in a gurgling tone that leaves her voice hanging in the air. Her silliness encompassing me, I strike a double bicep pose, flexing all of my muscles at once. My macho attempt at impressing her causes her to laugh out into the night, her sounds echoing through the backyard.

  Ditching my glasses, I drop them on my jeans and jog to the edge of the pool. Wanting to force as much of a splash in Ellie's direction, I jump in a few feet from her. Cannonball-style. I'm expecting cold water on contact, but as the chlorine-sweet pool swallows me whole, it's still warm from the afternoon sun.

  Coming up quick for air, I feel the pull of the water from my jump swaying us. Sidling up in front of her, I stoop to match her height and smile. The water cradles us across from each other, face-to-face, lapping up against our sides sounding like thirsty puppies.

  "You're not wearing your glasses," she states as if she's just realized it.

  "What do you think?"

  She nods. "Not bad. A little less nerdy this way."

  "Oh, really?" I growl, pulling her closer.

  Letting me surround her, she wraps her arms around my neck and giggles, running her wet thumbs over my cheeks in a playful caress. "But I like nerds, so it's okay," she says, her voice suddenly sounding brittle. As if realizing she’s just admitted she digs me.

  As we stare at each other, I notice her eyes. They’re the deep color of crystallized honey, and I can see an entire universe in them. Biting her bottom lip, she smiles for a quick second. But then exhales, and I feel her breath on my chin. Suddenly, the gravity of her lips is inescapable. Feeling a pull toward her, I grip her lower back, pulling her bare torso to mine. Pressing my lips to hers, I feel her grin as we kiss. Soft at first, her lips laced with a hint of hops. But once she opens her mouth and wraps her legs around me in the water, I know she wants more, and I lose myself in overwhelm, having no choice but to give in to my hard-on.

  Out of nowhere, a loud creak echoes across the backyard causing Ellie to jerk away from me.

  "Oh my God," she whispers, dipping down further into the water, covering herself. "What the hell was that?"

  Goddamn. I can't help but laugh pathetically, my dick now beyond aching for her. "I don't know," I nearly whine, not really concerned with it. My tone of voice is pathetic. But damn.

  "Who's house is this?" she demands, pursing her lips at me.

  "I'm not sure," I shrug.

  "Mason!" She slaps the water beside me with a splash. "I'm getting out of here," she says, turning from me and heading for the ladder. "I'm not going to jail over this."

  "Hey, I'm only teasing!" Laughing, I latch onto her waist and pull her back through the water toward me until she's close enough I can wrap my arms around her waist. "I'm joking, okay? It was the gate, I promise. I forgot to latch it when we came through that way." I can feel her nod against my cheek, her arms still trembling with worry. "It's my uncle's house but they're out of town for the month," I say, trying to calm her.

  "Why'd you bring me here?" she asks, finally relaxing in my arms. She lays her head back on my shoulder and pulls her knees up to her chest in the water, hugging them for comfort. Slowly, I pull her out to the deeper end of the pool until we're in up to our shoulders. Her wet hair gathers at my neck and throws me the cloying, tropical scent of her shampoo. "It used to be one of my favorite places to come on summer nights when I was growing up. My uncle's redone the place in the past few years, but I still love it at night. Especially with those." I point up at the sky.

  With a tilt of her head, she looks up.

  Following her gaze, I study the black sky that's dotted with tiny pinpricks of light.

  "The stars are a reflection of your soul," she says simply. "Both are full of wonder and light."

  I close my eyes, a weird emotion pooling in me. Then glancing down at her face, I kiss her shoulder to let her know she's moved me in ways I can't explain. "Is that one of your fortunes?"

  Blinking, she nods. "Float me?"

  I can't help but grin at her request. A simple one, yes. As I release her, she lays back and unfurls her limbs becoming buoyant on top of the water. Her dark hair is splayed out above her. It takes on a bluish purple hue from the colored lights below us. As she continues staring at the stars, I can't he
lp but take in my view of her body. Her silky limbs are stretched out with the grace of a starfish, her toenails painted a bright red. Her breasts are more full than I'd remembered, having already seen them in the meadow the first night we met. The lace of her bra is flooded with water, the detailing of it blurred under my glass-less vision. And I almost think I get a glimpse of nipple.

  But despite being nearly-naked here in a swimming pool with her at midnight, she's gorgeous. Tranquil floating here in front of me. Full of life. Absentmindedly, I rub a loose hand up and down her arm as we linger here in silence.

  "Tell me something," she says, taking my hand and placing the breadth of it over her face.

  "Like what?"

  "Anything," she says, lifting my hand again. This time, she slowly kisses the pad of each of my fingertips before laying my hand to rest on her stomach.

  "You're beautiful," I say, my voice guttural, edging on eager. With my hand still on her stomach, I circle my other thumb around her moon tattoo, over and over again, closing in on it. Then, picking up her limp wrist, I press my lips to the ink to let her know she is the moon. "Have I told you that before?"

  "Maybe," she whispers with a sheepish grin. "But your insight is truly illuminating."

  Chapter Twenty

  Mason

  The ceiling fan whirs, stirring the stale air up here. The third floor of this house hasn't much been lived in since I was in high school.

  Ellie smiles at me, her eyes radiating something fragile. She's sitting cross-legged on the plaid comforter of my bed as she gazes up and down my walls studying the sun-stained posters. I hand her a bottle of water that I've brought up for her.

  "Is that a Bjork poster?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  "Yeah, sure." I scrub a hand over my jaw and smile. "Guess my parents put that up after I moved out."

  She must find my claim funny, because she starts laughing and throws herself back on my bed, her damp hair spread out above her in some sort of a chocolate halo.