Back Beat

by Sloan, Ryleigh

  “Away.”

  “Dean, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days. I’ve left you fifteen messages.”

  I pick up my phone and hit the button to start it up. “I didn’t have cell coverage where I was. That was the point.”

  My phone springs to life and immediately vibrates with all the incoming messages ranging from “Call me!” to “I’m worried!” to threats of violence. I scan through them all while she’s standing there tapping her foot, and eventually see the one that makes my heart stop: “Blair was offered a contract but turned it down. Dean, call me dammit!”

  I raise my eyes to Amanda’s. “She turned it down?”

  “She did.”

  “Did you talk to her?” I head for the fridge and grab two bottles of water. Suddenly, my mouth is as dry as sandpaper.

  “Yes, I did. Dean, you have to do something. This girl is pissing away her career.”

  “Did she say why? It doesn’t make sense. This is everything she ever wanted, minus the show which she believes to be fake. I can’t understand it.”

  “She said she isn’t comfortable with signing. She doesn’t trust the industry. Dean, this is your fault. You have to fix this.”

  I take a swig of the water. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “You can get off your ass and go to her. You owe her that much for what you did.”

  Amanda has never pulled the punches. I love that about her, but her words sting today. The water churns inside my stomach like curdled milk, and I push the bottle away.

  “Dean, it’s clear you love her. I’ve known from the very beginning she meant more to you than a quick fuck, but you screwed up and you have to make it right.”

  I lean my hands on the granite and hang my head. “Every time I try to fix things for her, I make them worse. I need to leave her to get on with her life.”

  “Dean, getting on with her life means living a life she doesn’t want. It’s not going to happen now or in ten years’ time, but eventually she’s going to regret this decision, and by then it’s going to be too late.”

  My phone vibrates and it’s an email confirmation from Amanda about a flight from LAX to South Africa.

  “You’re mighty sure of yourself. You didn’t even know I’d be back.”

  “I booked it on the way up and scheduled the email. It’s only money, but you owe me sixteen thousand dollars. I’m going to leave you to pack. Don’t fuck this up, Dean. And take a damn shower—you look like you’ve gone two seasons on Survivor.” She walks over and places her hands on my cheeks. “I don’t want you to regret this either.”

  She kisses me on the cheek, and I rub the bright red lipstick stain she just left off with my palm. She laughs and leaves me to pack. I pack light. I don’t expect to be there long.

  I’ve got three hours until my flight takes off, so I don’t even have time to get an Uber. I get in my e-tron GT and pray traffic will be my friend. I’ve got a lot of planning to do, and I’m going to need all the help I can get, so I put my pride in my pocket and contact Maddie. This is going to be about as pleasant as the conversation I had with Amanda.

  I don’t have her number, so I send her a PM on Facebook. Since I’m driving, I go for the voice note option. “Hey, Maddie. It’s Dean. I need your help. If you get this, please drop me your number so we can talk. Thanks.”

  I don’t expect a response but really hope I get one. I see the bumping dots and a VN comes back.

  “The only Dean I know is an asshole. Please confirm this is he.”

  I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I hit Reply. “This is the one and the same.”

  The next thing I know a video call pops up from Maddie, and I hit Accept. I don’t even get a chance to greet her when her face appears and she starts speaking. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough, Dean? You had weeks to help. What do you think you could possibly do now? You left her when she needed you most, and you never once tried to find out if she was okay after the shitstorm you created.”

  “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I need to make it right, Maddie. Do you know she turned down a recording contract?”

  There’s silence on the line, and Maddie’s shocked expression says it all. Eventually, she speaks up and there are tears in her eyes. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because I fucked up, that’s why.”

  I expect Maddie to shoot me a death stare, but instead, her face softens. “What do you need me to do?”

  “So you’ll help me?”

  “No, I’ll help Blair. I’m still mad at you.”

  “Fair enough. Maddie, I love her. I’ll make it right.”

  She raises an eyebrow at my confession. “You better. And Dean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I oughta kick you in your fun parts for telling me that before you told her.”

  I laugh and it’s the first time I’ve felt relief since all the shit went down. I get Blair’s schedule from Maddie and make a few arrangements. I hang up just as I get to the airport, park my car, and race through the check-in with five minutes to spare.

  32

  Blair

  Thando pirouettes while she beams proudly at us. Her beautiful braids are tied in a neat bun on top of her head and secured in place with a green scrunchy. I love that the ballet teacher gave each child freedom to wear the colors they love the most, and as Thando whirls across the stage, her family sits beside me with tears of joy spilling down their cheeks. The modest-sized church that is doubling as a theatre this evening is packed full, the worn building made cheerful by posters crafted by the children.

  Tonight is a night I’m allowing myself a reprieve from my secret. As hard as it is, I know I made the right decision to turn down the recording contract. I’m just not made out for that world, a world where you can’t take anything at face value. I turn to my family seated beside me, all here to support the little girl of our gate security guard, and am overwhelmed by the love I have for them. My papaw smiles at me, but it’s sad and weighted with unspoken words.

  I’ve been waiting for the lectures from him, but none have been forthcoming. His silent support of my decision hurts more than if he’d come out and told me he is disappointed in me. What’s worse is he doesn’t know about the contract. No one does—I just can’t bear to see their disappointment for me. Not right now when everything is so raw.

  Thando finishes her routine, and we clap till our hands are red and sore as we stand, filling almost half the room. Her smile is a gift in itself, and she runs and jumps off the stage into her father’s arms. A lump forms in my throat, and I look over at my own dad, who reaches out a hand to me, which I take.

  Thando squirms down and runs to me. “Did you see me, Blair? Did you see me?”

  I laugh at her enthusiastic question because of course I saw her, and she knows this because I was beaming at her from the front row the entire time.

  I hand her the pink roses, and she clutches them to her chest so hard, the stem of one of the blossoms snaps.

  “Oh no, I broke it.”

  I reach down and place the snapped blossom into one of her braids. “Nothing is ever broken if you want to fix it. Sometimes it just has a different purpose.”

  I see the questioning stare from Maddie but ignore it. I’ve had enough of her meaningful stares to last me a lifetime.

  Thando tugs my hand. “I worked so hard. Almost every single day since last year. I even danced after I cut my head on the bookcase at school and had to get stitches. I worked hard because I want to follow my dreams the way you followed yours.”

  Remorse bites into me like a venomous spider and immediately eats away at the good feeling I allowed myself for just today. I smile kindly at Thando while I blink back the tears. Maddie comes to my rescue and kneels down next to Thando. “You are going to have to show me how you pivot so easily. I always lose my balance.”

  The distraction allows me a chance to slip out, and I head
toward the fountain where the air bites into my cheeks. The breeze picks up the dry leaves, scraping them across the tar, and the sound, usually so comforting, sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

  It’s eerily quiet outside despite the din in the church hall, and when I hear footsteps, I turn to see my papaw heading my way. “If you’re here to lecture me, I already got one from Dad and Maddie.”

  Ever since my feet touched SA soil, either Maddie or my dad has been at me for giving up on my dream. Who would’ve thought my dad’s support of my singing would be such a burden? Especially since he doesn’t know how much I gave up. But how can I sign up for a life in an industry that can throw someone out one moment and buy them back the next? Jeremy’s words haunt me and keep me up at night. I want to hope against all hope what he said about Dean is true, but I can’t trust myself right now, and when you can’t trust yourself, you can’t trust anything. That’s why I just couldn’t take the contract.

  “I’m not here to lecture you, Bubbles.”

  Why does that make me feel worse? “Why not?”

  I sit down next to the dried-up fountain, mud pooling in the bottom and making the dried leaves mulchy. They smell sweet and a little like rot. I’m kind of glad for that. No point in the universe making everything smell peachy when it isn’t.

  Papaw sits down next to me. “Because you are torturing yourself enough. I’m not going to add to it.”

  “But you think I’m making a mistake.”

  “Bubbles, no one can tell you that but yourself.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bubble tub. “Indulge me?”

  I choke back the tears as he twists off the cap and slides the wand out, the iridescent soap ring reflecting the light from the hall. Papaw blows and a bubble escapes only to burst immediately. He repeats the process a few times while I hold my breath, waiting for a bubble to fly free, but none do. They all burst within seconds of leaving the wand.

  “Damn winter air pressure,” Papaw grumbles.

  He closes the bubble tub and hands it to me.

  I swallow back the sob that wants to choke free, the pain of holding back my tears tearing into my heart. I tighten the lid and leave it on the stone wall. I know they’re just bubbles. I know it’s not the right night. But why does it seem like a sign?

  Tomorrow will be a better day. It’s too cold.

  I swallow back the lump, knowing that tomorrow won’t be a better day.

  33

  Dean

  I’m surprised Maddie didn’t direct me to a location in the middle of the game reserve to be mauled by wild animals. Instead, she gave me directions to a small church that has seen better days, but I get a sense that a lot of happy times happen within those four walls. Small children in different-colored ballet get-ups peel out of the building, clutching the hands of proud family members and friends, and I remember the night Blair asked the guard at the entrance to the lodge when his daughter’s recital was. It makes me happy she got to see it. I’m just sorry about what it cost her though.

  The driver pulls around back and switches off the car. He doesn’t say anything or ask for instructions. I’m happy about that, since I don’t know what’s going on. The entire flight over, I’ve tried to come up with something to say to convince Blair to take the contract. I thought of making a grand gesture, something big that would show her I’m sincere and I do want what’s best for her, but decided against it. Blair deserves to make this decision without any distractions. I know I’m a selfish jerk for ambushing her like this, but if she just considers the contract—even if she never wants to speak to me again—I’ll be grateful.

  Amanda emailed me the contract, and I read it on the way here. Maybe it’s not cool for me to invade Blair’s privacy like that, but it’s no worse than secretly taking a pic of her while she slept on my chest. I still have that photo—I like to torture myself with it every now and again—but regardless of the privacy issue, I wanted to be sure I’m not about to present Blair with a contract that would see her confined to a label that’s going to screw her without lube. Not that Amanda’s label would—they’re solid—but I wanted to have my facts straight.

  I shoot Maddie a text to let her know I’m here. She gave me her number after our video chat; I’m taking that as a semi truce, and I don’t want to call in case Blair is with her. I’m nervous. My leg is bouncing of its own accord, and I’ve already consumed two bottles of water, but my mouth’s still dry. I can’t fuck this up. I’ve already fucked up enough.

  Dean: I’m out back as you requested. You aren’t going to set a rhino on me, are you?

  Maddie: Not tonight. There are small children here that could get hurt.

  I like Maddie. It fills me with all the good feels to know Blair has a friend who loves her as much as Maddie does. The dots bump across the screen, and I wait for her text.

  Maddie: She’s in the car. It’s a go.

  I smile at the phone and take a deep breath. I hope it is.

  34

  Blair

  Something is up with Maddie, and I don’t know what. She’s been getting strange phone calls and texts and is acting very secretive, but I don’t want to call her out on it in case she asks me what I’m hiding. I’m waiting in the car with the radio on to drown out my thoughts. My parents and grandparents left a few minutes ago, and I’m catching a ride with Maddie. I’m regretting my concern for the environment now. I just want to get home, and Maddie is taking her damn time. I see her texting someone through the window and wonder why the hell she can’t wait until we get back to my place to do it. We’re having a Twilight marathon tonight. (Don’t judge. When life is shitty, I like to immerse myself in unrealistic TV. You don’t get more unrealistic than a sparkly vampire.) I’m really looking forward to the Jacob versus Edward debate Maddie and I are sure to get into. It can get a lot more vehement than the Jonas Brothers one.

  I run a finger over my lips. They are starting to get that burning sensation when the air is dry, and I rummage into my purse for some ChapStick. The door opens, and I let out a sigh. “It’s about damn time, Mads. Edward will die of old age by the time we get to him.” I think my joke is funny, if a little cheesy.

  “Who’s Edward?”

  I startle and the lid for the ChapStick falls out of my hand and rolls under the seat. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

  He reaches across the seat and searches the floor for my lid. His hand brushes my calf unintentionally, and I jump.

  “I’m sorry. Here.” Dean hands me the lid, and I slide it back in place.

  “Thanks.” I can’t seem to get my head to catch up with my racing body. In the small confines of the car, Dean’s scent is like a caress—familiar and comforting, but at the same time my stomach feels like it’s filled with concrete, and my heart is racing a million miles an hour. And not in a good way. I’m so nervous, I can barely speak, and I can’t seem to figure out what the hell is going on.

  “W…what are you doing here?” Damn, I’m stuttering. I look around to see where Maddie is, and she smiles and waves at me from the church and then sits down. She’s freaking in on this. I’m going to kill her.

  “I came to see you.”

  “Why?” I don’t mean to be abrupt, but Dean and I said all there was to say to each other back at his apartment. Or at least I did. I clutch my purse like a shield as I wait for his answer, the ChapStick held so tightly in my fist I’m sure I’m going to crush the container or melt the balm.

  “Who Do You Love” by The Chainsmokers and 5SOS comes on the radio, and I immediately turn it off. I know the song is about cheating and nothing about love, so it shouldn’t bother me, but the words “Who, do you love, d’ya love now” taunt me because I constantly wonder who Dean is filling his nights with. And now he’s in Maddie’s car with me and I don’t know why.

  “I came here to convince you not to give up on your dreams.”

  “What do you know about my dreams?” I’m suddenly defensive and
angry and sick and tired of everyone trying to tell me what I should do with my life.

  “I know you came to LA to get a recording contract and you turned one down.”

  Dammit! “That’s right.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I already did. But I’m guessing Amanda told you that. Look, I appreciate everything you did for me, but I don’t need you swooping in and trying to save me anymore. You can’t buy away your guilt.” The minute the words leave my mouth, I want to suck them right back in. It was a bitchy thing to say, and I instantly regret it. I clutch my purse tighter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that.”

  He runs a hand through his hair. “No, you’re right. I can’t. What I did to you, I don’t deserve to be absolved of. I was wrong and knew I was wrong, but I did it anyway and I’m sorry. But you can’t give up your dream because of my mistakes. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Dean, that life isn’t my dream. I thought the show was my dream. I thought I was going to prove to the world I had what it takes. I got caught up in the glitz and glamor, but it was all a lie. I didn’t earn my spot. You bought it for me.” My words catch in my throat, and I tell myself not to cry and make a fool of myself. I need more than anything to hold on to my dignity.

  “I know how it looks. But all I did was pay my fine and ask them to keep you on. You know it’s all about the votes. You never lost a battle, you never lost a face-off. I didn’t do that—it was all you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I gave up my integrity for a show that thinks nothing of selling out over a contestant’s spot. I should’ve been fired like you. But money paid my way. You say I can’t give up on my dream, but what good is a dream if I lose myself to get it?”

  “Blair, if you don’t follow your dream, you will lose yourself.”

  “I already have. Don’t you see? I can’t trust anything. I can’t trust myself. I trusted my heart, and all that got me was heartbreak and a bad reputation. For what, a quick roll in the hay?” The sob I was holding on to rips free, and I drop the ChapStick and bury my face in my hands.