Interlude

by Chantele Sedgwick

  “Unfortunately. I’ll bet you ten bucks we find that picture online in the next hour.”

  “Really?” I’m not sure how I feel about my picture being online. Especially with a celebrity. That would be weird. I guess as long as they don’t know my name, right? And if anyone would see it, it would be Maddy.

  I pray she won’t look online for a few days but expect a phone call just the same.

  “Excuse me,” someone says.

  Jaxton and I both look over at the girl, who now stands with two of her friends next to the table. She runs her fingers through her blond hair and blushes as Jaxton meets her gaze. “Hi,” he says, putting on a winning smile.

  “You’re Jaxton Scott, right?” The girl’s voice raises an octave as she says his name.

  “Yep. That would be me. And you are?”

  “Megan.” She squeaks as he reaches out and shakes her hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Megan.” He turns toward the next girl and shakes her hand as well.

  “I’m Kelly, and this is Leesie,” the brunette on the right says. They’re all wearing super short shorts and tank tops with their chests busting out of them.

  Of course they are. What better fans could Jaxton have than a bunch of gorgeous girls with beach bodies?

  I’m not jealous. No, I’m not. I sit back in my seat and fold my arms and watch everything play out.

  “Nice to meet you all,” Jaxton says.

  Megan glances at her friends and giggles. “We were wondering if we could get a picture with you. Is that okay? Oh, and could you sign my cell phone? I think I have a Sharpie in my purse.”

  Who the heck walks around with Sharpies in their purses?

  Instead of being a jerk and dismissing them, Jaxton smiles, stands, and says, “Sure.”

  The girl, Megan, looks at me, a little embarrassed. “Can you take it please? Would you mind?”

  I sit up as she puts the phone in my outstretched hand. “I’d be happy to.”

  She smiles. “The camera is all ready, just tap the screen.”

  “Okay.”

  Jaxton stands in the middle as Megan and the two other girls wrap their arms around him. They honestly remind me of how girls in Hollywood would be. Like his groupies or something. He stands there, his arms around them, and they all beam at the camera. I catch myself staring at him through the phone. He’s really photogenic, I decide.

  Photogenic? Really? What kind of crap thought is that? He just knows how to capture a camera’s attention. And every girl’s in the airport, as well.

  I guess that would be photogenic, right?

  Once I’ve taken a few pictures, Megan comes back and takes her phone. “Thank you.” She barely glances at me after that. Instead, she swooshes her hair over her shoulder and touches Jaxton’s arm. “It was so nice to meet you, Jaxton.”

  “You too,” he says as he settles down in his seat again. He watches them walk away giggling and scrolling through the pictures on her phone and then shoots me a look. “See? Told you people recognize me everywhere.”

  “I can see that.” I study my fries, not sure if I’m up to eating them. My stomach’s a little uneasy for some reason. “You handled it very well, though. You were very smooth.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  I laugh and finish my water. “I meant you were very kind. You didn’t treat them like they were beneath you. You know?”

  “They’re not. Like you said on the plane: I’m a person just like you.” He sits there a second, his eyes searching mine, and I watch as he pulls a little notebook and pen out of his pocket. He scribbles a few words down, stares at it for a moment, and smiles at me before sticking both of them in his pocket.

  “Writing a song?”

  He nods. “I always have lyrics come to me at the most random times.”

  “Like sitting at lunch in an airport with a complete stranger?”

  He chuckles. “This is one of the better times.”

  I smile at that. “Thanks. Do you always have that notebook with you?”

  “Always. This is the fifth one I’ve gone through.”

  “That’s so cool.”

  “Not really, but thanks. You ready to find our gate?”

  I pile my wrappers on the tray and he picks it up as he stands. “Yep. Lead on. Since you’re an airport expert and all.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  CHAPTER 11

  So many words, so little said

  —J.S.

  We’re sitting in front of our gate waiting for our rows of seats to be called when Jaxton pulls out his ticket and glances at it a moment before reaching toward mine. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He takes it from me and after looking at it a moment, frowns. “Well, that’s a pisser. We’re not sitting by each other anymore.”

  I swear my whole body deflates. “Really?” Seriously. I’m super bummed now. I’ve kind of liked getting to know my secret rockstar friend. Even if I hate his music.

  “Yeah. Not gonna lie. This sucks.” We both stand as they call our seats. He’s still holding my backpack as he glances at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

  “You really want to sit by me that bad?” I stare at him, my mouth curving into a small smile. I’m flattered. Very.

  “Of course. I was looking forward to making you listen to some of my music.” He hands the ticket lady his ticket and I notice how she looks right at him, back at his ticket, and then at him again. Her whole personality changes. She flips her red hair over her shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Scott. Have a nice flight.”

  “Thank you.” He shoots me a look as she studies him closer and he starts to walk away but the ticket lady pulls out her phone. “Wait!”

  He turns around, a relaxed smile on his face. “Do you need something else?”

  “You’re Jaxton Scott. Jaxton Scott, the lead singer of Blue Fire.”

  He smiles, but looks around. I can see the nervousness coming off him in waves. He pulls his baseball cap down further and gives a small nod.

  “Holy—I can’t believe it’s you! Can I get a picture with you?” She glances around, her eyes falling on the only person standing close enough. Lucky me. Of course. She shoves her phone in my hands and I’m so shocked that I don’t move until she snaps at me to take the picture.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. She’s doing an awesome job at being a ticket lady. I kind of want to tell her boss about her. Just to let him know how seriously she takes her job. Especially when a passenger obviously doesn’t want to be recognized.

  I take a step closer to get them in the shot and focus on their waists up. She totally has her arm around him and he just stands there, calm, collected, and nice as can be. Like he’s done it a million times before. Which he probably has. I take the picture and give her phone back to her.

  “I’m such a big fan, Jaxton. Such a fan. Thank you so much for the picture. Do you need anything before you board? I could switch you to first class if you’d like. I’m sure I could find a spare seat.”

  “No, no. That won’t be necessary.” He reaches a hand toward me and I hesitate only a second before taking it. He pulls me next to him and the lady looks between us a few times before morphing into her professional self again. She takes my ticket and hands it back to me just as fast. “Enjoy your flight, Miss.” She clears her throat, her eyes lingering on Jaxton once more before she turns to the next passenger.

  “Thanks.”

  Jaxton still has a hold of my hand and leads me down the jetway. I know he’s holding it just to get that lady off his back, but my brain has to concentrate really hard to make my legs work. I feel tingly all over. “That was awkward.” He sounds tired. “I just hope she doesn’t tell anyone else I’m on here. Since half the passengers out there heard her, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah. I can only take so many pictures. It’s getting old already.” I let out an exaggerated sigh.

  He chuckles and pulls his cap down over his eyes
.

  I let go of his hand, even though I really don’t want to, and reach up to flick the brim of his hat with my finger. “Can that thing go any lower?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe.” He pulls it down again, his blue eyes shining as he glances at me.

  “Well, I guess this is where we split up,” I say, stepping into the plane.

  “Not necessarily. I told you I’d figure something out. I’m taking this as a challenge.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  The stewardess takes my ticket and points out my seat. I’m in an aisle seat this time. And Jaxton is two rows behind me in the middle.

  Boo.

  I put my bag in the overhead like last time and sit in my seat, just as a big guy who smells like Fritos points to the seat next to me. I stand, my back pressed into the seat, as he wiggles by me and plops down into his.

  “Hi,” I try, just to be nice.

  He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs the barf bag in front of him before he buckles himself tight in his seat.

  Great. I’m stuck next to a barfer. Never a good sign.

  I pull my phone out and check for missed calls before I turn it off for the flight. Nothing from Mom or Dad yet. I know it’s only a matter of time, though. I debate on sending Maddy a text to tell her I’m okay, and assure her I’m not doing anything too stupid, but I don’t want Dad to see it and have that get her in trouble, so I put my phone away.

  I hope she’s okay.

  “Hey, Mia. Are you comfortable way up there? Can I get you anything?”

  I smile and look behind me. Jaxton’s sitting next to some older guy and has a huge grin on his face. “I’m good, I think. Thanks, though!”

  “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Okay.” I turn back around, not bothering to hide the smile on my face.

  “It’s too bad they split us up, huh?” he yells.

  My face flames and I sink down in my seat. Why the heck is he talking so loud? Doesn’t he know everyone on this plane can hear him? I glance around and notice several people staring at him. “Yep,” I say as the Frito guy shifts around in his seat next to me. I’m hoping he’s not going to barf before we even take off. That would be fun.

  Two seconds later, I swear, someone’s tapping me on the shoulder. I look up to see the man who was sitting by Jaxton standing in the middle of the aisle, his bag in his hand. “Hello, young lady. I’d be happy to trade you seats for the flight.”

  I’m so shocked I can’t form a coherent thought. “What?”

  “I wanted to trade you seats for the flight so you can sit by your fella back there.”

  “My … You don’t have to do that. It’s really not a big deal.”

  He smiles and gestures toward Jaxton. “I insist.” He gestures to the aisle and I hurry and unbuckle.

  “Well, if you insist. Thank you so much!” I grab my bag and purse and scramble to my new seat. I debate warning the older man about Mr. Frito and the barf bag but figure he’ll see it sooner or later. As I make my way back to my new seat, I get a glimpse of Jaxton’s face. He’s beaming.

  After getting my stuff situated, I sit. “So … I guess you’re stuck sitting by me again. How did you manage to talk that guy into switching seats? Did you bribe him or something? Give him an autograph? Sign a CD?”

  He shrugs. “I told him we’re on our way to New York to celebrate our first anniversary.”

  He what? “You told him we were married?” My cheeks heat as my voice raises and he puts a finger to his smiling lips.

  “Not quite. I told him we’re high school sweethearts and that you’re terrified of flying.”

  That makes me feel a little better. Just a little, though. “Oh. Well, I guess you’re sort of right.” I lean back against my seat as he laughs and I’m afraid to look at him for some reason.

  “You’re really that scared of flying?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I used to get a little nervous, but I’ve been on so many planes now that it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  “Thanks for being concerned for my well-being. You must have really wanted to sit by me.”

  He chuckles. “Obviously.”

  “Is there a specific reason? I promise I’m not that cool.”

  He dangles his earbuds in front of my face. “I’m going to attempt to turn you over to the dark side.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yeah, you’re excited. I can tell. You ready?”

  It’s going to be a long flight.

  CHAPTER 12

  These demons shift through my troubled soul

  They won’t relent, they won’t let go

  I try to make them leave me be

  But the one who invited them in, was me

  —J.S.

  I take the earbuds and smirk at him. “You have your own albums on your MP3 player?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s a little weird.”

  “You can’t tell me if you had a CD or something out in the world that came from deep inside your soul, you wouldn’t have a copy of it.”

  “Well … When you put it that way.” I think of maybe having a piano album someday. That would be cool. And honestly, I’d probably have posters of it hanging around my room and a stack of them displayed on my dresser.

  Yeah, I’d be just like him. Probably worse.

  He gives me an I told you so smile. “It’s not like I listen to it all the time. Sometimes I do before a show, just in case I need to hear a guitar solo or need to refresh my memory on an old song, but mostly it’s just there for … I don’t know. Your enjoyment perhaps?”

  I sigh and stick the earbuds in my ears while he scrolls through his player and pushes a few buttons. Music blasts in my ears and I grab the player out of his hand to turn it down. “Are you losing your hearing? Because seriously? Mine’s gone now.”

  He puts his fingers to his lips to tell me I’m talking way too loud and I shrink down in my seat as I see all the people staring in my direction. Oops.

  The music softens and, at first, I don’t want to listen to it anymore. I’m a classics kind of girl. I don’t like this stuff. But as I keep listening, feeling the rhythm and really letting the music seep into me, something changes. It’s not as bad as I was expecting it to be. I mean, I’ve heard a few of their songs, but refused to really listen to them because I didn’t want to get caught up in what everyone else was listening to. But I have to admit, I’m impressed. Even if I can’t really focus on the lyrics right now.

  Jaxton is watching me and gives me a hopeful thumb’s up. I overexaggerate a sigh and give him a slight nod.

  He beams.

  After I’ve gone through several songs, I pull my left earbud out so I can talk to him while I listen to the music. It feels weird sitting next to him while he’s waiting for me to finish the album. “So … I take back most of what I said. Your stuff is pretty good. And I’m not just saying that because you’ve been so nice to me. It really is good. The guitars, the bass, the drums. It’s awesome. How many of these did you write?”

  “Most.”

  “Which ones didn’t you write?”

  “The trendy ones.” He grins. “Did you listen to the lyrics at all?”

  I shrug. “I don’t listen to lyrics on purpose. The music is what gets me. Sometimes I subconsciously memorize lyrics though and don’t realize I’m jamming out to a dirty song until I bust the words out. Which is usually very unfortunate.” Oh, the times I could take back. Especially when my little brother was in the car.

  “Music is amazing, but lyrics are from the soul. They’re the heart of the song.” He frowns. “At least most of the time. Sometimes they’re just plain weird.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So, what kind of stuff do you play on the piano?”

  “All kinds of stuff. Mostly the greats. Beethoven, Bach. Mozart. Chopin. Vivaldi is one of my favorites.”

  “‘Four Seasons’?”

  “You kn
ow it?”

  He shrugs. “Who doesn’t?”

  Seriously. Is this guy for real? After staring at him for a second, I shake my head to bring my thoughts to a safer place and continue. “Anyway … classics. Yeah. Love them.”

  “How long have you been playing?”

  “Since I was a little girl. Four or five maybe?”

  He nods and smiles as if remembering a pleasant memory. “I started guitar when I was six. Have you played anywhere?”

  I shrug. “Mostly accompanying people singing, but I did solos for Festival at school.”

  “And?”

  I shrug. “I got superiors three years in a row.”

  He holds his fist out and we bump. “Nice.”

  He picks at his dark fingernails. “So, when you sit down to play, what’s your favorite part of the piece? The climax? The end?”

  “I love preludes. Whether they’re the beginning of the song or the introduction to a new movement in a complex piece. I like waiting for what comes next. To see how drastic the change between pieces are. Weird, I know.”

  “The prelude to any piece of music is the most important part of a song, I think. It has to be distinct. Different than everything else out there. It’s like the hook. Or the tease before the masterpiece, if you will.”

  “Ooooh … I like that. I really like that.” No wonder he’s a songwriter. He definitely has a way with words.

  “I just made it up right now. Sometimes I like to think I’m awesome.”

  “Well, I’m glad someone does.” I chuckle. “I love interludes, as well. Not really the wedding and church interludes, but the interlude in the middle of a pop or rock song. Like a real nice guitar solo to take you away from the lyrics for a bit. It’s nice.”

  “I still think you should do yourself a favor and focus on the lyrics of some songs. They’re just as good, if not better than, the music itself.”

  I chuckle at that and hand the left earbud to him as I scroll through his MP3 player. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Maybe. “So this is the kind of stuff I listen to.” I click on a popular band from the nineties and he nods as the music blasts in our ears.