Interlude

by Chantele Sedgwick

  “Yes. Great stuff. I can see why you have a hard time with Blue Fire.”

  “It’s different from my norm, I’ll admit, but really, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” He raises an eyebrow and I need to turn his attention elsewhere. “Oh, this drum solo is amazing. Love it.”

  “It’s funny what kind of stuff you listen to when you play the piano and like the classical stuff so much. There are a lot of bands you’ve paused on that are totally opposite.”

  I shrug. “I like variety. There are some interesting bands on your playlist, as well, but who am I to judge?”

  “True.” He smiles as he bobs his head to the beat until the song ends and then pulls the earbud out of his ear when it’s over. “Thanks for giving my stuff a chance, even if you were totally against following a ‘trend.’”

  “Thanks for telling me to quit being stubborn and actually give it a chance.”

  “I didn’t really make you, but you’re welcome.”

  The song ends and I hand his MP3 player back to him. “I like your guitars and bass the most. You’re very talented. I’ll listen to the lyrics one of these days. Usually songs go in one ear and out the other unless I really listen. I have to concentrate on both the lyrics and the music for it to make me feel something. Know what I mean? I’m probably not making sense, am I?”

  “You’re making total sense. And if it makes you feel any better, my stuff didn’t always sound like this. It used to be mellow. There are a few mellow songs on the CD, of course, but if you have a little time to kill in New York, I’ll take you to my place and play something softer for you.”

  I stiffen at that. I’ve never really been back to a guy’s “place” before. And I’m supposed to be hunting down my birth mom, not frolicking around a huge city with someone I barely met. “I don’t know about that.”

  He must sense that I’m uncomfortable because he puts a hand on my arm, sending chills through my body. “My family’s house.” I glance at him and see a soft smile on his face. “Remember?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Trust me. I’m not the kind of guy who jumps every girl he meets, contrary to what the tabloids say.”

  “That’s … good to know.”

  “Not that I wouldn’t …” He trails off and I swear I see a blush tinge his cheeks. Instead of picking up where he left off, he stretches his legs as much as he can and makes himself comfortable. “Anyway. I’ll only take you to my parents’ place if you have a little time to sight-see because Long Island is kind of out of the way. And, I mean, you have to see a few things. It’s New York. How many chances will you ever get to go there again?”

  “Probably none.” Since I’ll be locked in my room for the rest of my life. “I’ll see if I have time. My parents are going to be freaking out as it is.”

  “Sounds like you guys are pretty close.”

  “We are. My dad raised me and my sister alone, and then he married a nice lady named Trista when I was ten. She’s the only mom I’ve ever known. They’re good for each other.” I smile, sadly, thinking of Carmen again. I sometimes wonder how she would have raised us if she hadn’t left. Would I be a different person? Would I have been as happy? I can’t imagine living my life without Trista. She’s been a wonderful mother to me. “They had my brother a few years after they married. His name is Zack. He’s a cutie. A redhead like my mom.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “What about your family? Are you guys close?”

  He shrugs. “Depends on what you call close.”

  “Do you talk on the phone a lot?”

  “I talk to my mom at least once a week. My sister Jeigh, usually every day. We’ve always been really close. I have another sister, but she’s a bit younger, so I don’t hear from her as much. I love hanging out with her when I go home, though.”

  “So, you have three in your family and I have three in mine. Another thing we have in common.”

  “Yes. Yes it is.”

  I drum my fingers on my knee and wait for him to keep going, but he doesn’t, so I change the subject. “So, how far away from the airport is … everything? Like downtown New York. That kind of stuff.”

  The corner of his mouth hints at a smile. “Do you even have any idea where you’re going?”

  “No clue. I know what the Statue of Liberty looks like. Does that count?”

  He snorts and plays with his eyebrow ring. “Not really.”

  “I know. I should have planned ahead.”

  “Do you know where your mom lives?”

  “I know she’s right in New York City, but that’s it. And there are two people with the same name. I guess I’ll have to try both.” I sink down in my seat.

  “What hotel are you staying at?”

  “Uh … A New York one?”

  He stares at me a moment, then shakes his head. “You don’t have a place to stay, do you?”

  “Not exactly. I’ll just wing it when I get there.”

  “I can help.”

  “No, I don’t need help. Thank you, though.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “I could sleep in the airport. Do they let people do that? I remember watching a show about a guy living in an airport for a while, but I don’t know if it’s actually allowed. You know the movies. They make things seem like they’re totally fine and normal. But when someone tries it in real life, everything goes to crap.”

  He shakes his head, a tiny smile on his lips. “I never thought about it that way.”

  I shrug. “I think about weird things a lot. The weirder, the better. It drives my family crazy. And then sometimes, most of the time I guess, those weird thoughts work their way out into the world, you know?” I’m rambling now. Knowing he knows I don’t have a place to stay is making me sweat. I don’t like feeling so out of my element, but I am, and from the look he’s giving me, he totally knows it. I should have thought things through. Booked something online.

  Dumb.

  “Eh, I think about weird stuff, too. It’s okay.” He sits up straighter. “After what you’ve told me, you sure thought this trip out pretty well, huh?”

  I put a hand over my face. “No. I did not. Obviously.”

  He sits there a moment and leans closer, so our shoulders touch. “You can stay with my family if you’d like.”

  The thought makes my worries melt away, but then I ask myself if I can trust him. I’ve only known him about half a day—and even though I know a bit about his family, it’s not enough. The offer is sweet, but … I should be cautious, shouldn’t I? Being spontaneous is one thing, but being stupid is another.

  “I don’t know, Jaxton. I don’t really know you at all. Besides the whole music thing … And how you’re going through a kind of crisis. But other than that …”

  “It’s Jax.”

  I glance over at him, his blue eyes soft as he watches me. “You go by Jax?”

  “Only to friends and family.”

  I tuck my hair behind my ear and look away briefly. “Oh. Thanks.” I’ve heard some fans call him that, but the media always use Jaxton.

  “So, you won’t stay with me because you don’t know me. But you also have nowhere else to stay and don’t know your way around the city. So … let’s get to know me a little better, shall we? Some things about me. Hmmm …”

  “You really don’t have to—” I stop midsentence when his face brightens.

  “I don’t like fast food very much. I’ll eat it when I have to. You know, like when we’re in an airport and need lunch, but other than that, it’s the last thing I’d pick. And it’s not because it’s fatty or anything, I just like other stuff. Mostly homemade stuff. My mom is an excellent cook. I guess I was spoiled as a child with good cooking.”

  “Makes sense. I have to be honest, though. I love a juicy fast-food hamburger.”

  He laughs. “I noticed. And they’re okay sometimes.” He sits there a second. “Oh. Also … I play the bagpipes.”

  My mouth drop
s open. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope. My mom was kind of obsessed with our Scottish heritage and made me take lessons as a child. I had to wear a kilt and everything at recitals.” He grins. “You better believe I still look good in one.”

  “Oh dear.” I don’t doubt that. I’m sure he’d look good in anything.

  “I’m actually pretty good.”

  I bust up laughing. I can’t imagine him wearing a kilt and playing the bagpipes at all. That would be a show, I guarantee you. “That’s awesome. I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

  “Do you play anything besides piano?”

  “I can play a mean harmonica.”

  “Really?”

  “I really can. Weird, but true. Oh, and I absolutely love thunderstorms. Especially when there is a lot of lightning. And rain. It relaxes me and gets me in the mood to write piano music. I seem to write my best ones when it rains.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Rain kind of brings a melancholy mood with it. Which usually brings out the best inspiration and lyrical words from inside.” He glances at me. “I know. Weird.”

  “No, I totally get it. Anything else about you?”

  “I never sleep past six-thirty in the morning, I go to bed early like I’m sixty.”

  I laugh at that. “Yeah, I’m a night owl.”

  “I have to be when I’m on tour, but I love getting a good night’s rest every other night. I can’t focus well when I’m tired.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I’m a big believer in Karma and all that.”

  “Me too. I always try to be nice to people, even when I’m annoyed. You never know when you might meet said person again. Maddy is totally nicer than me by far, but I do try.”

  “You don’t seem like you could offend a fly.”

  “Uh, I offended you.”

  He laughs. “Not on purpose, though.”

  “Yeah, I honestly about died when I realized it was you. How embarrassing.”

  “It will be a great story someday.”

  “I know,” I grumble, which makes him laugh harder.

  “Oh, man. So funny. Anyway, what else can I tell you.” He screws his face up in concentration, “Oh! I’m slightly deaf in one ear, but no one really knows.”

  “Which ear?”

  He touches his left one. “I can still hear you, just not real well. It doesn’t really affect my music, though if it gets worse I may be wearing a hearing aid in a few years. My audiologist has a few tricks up his sleeve for me that I can try when the time comes.”

  Now I feel bad about getting mad at how loud his MP3 player was. Yet another way to offend him. I’m on a roll today. “Has it always been that way?”

  “Yep. Ever since I was a kid. My parents thought I just didn’t listen, but when they took me to the doctor for a hearing test, they figured out I really had hearing problems.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Also, when I was seven I wanted to be a cowboy when I grew up. Like, I wore cowboy boots, talked with an accent. All of it. I’m glad I grew out of that stage.” He laughs.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Seeing you walk around in cowboy boots and tight pants would probably make your lady fans happy.”

  “I know,” he says, frowning. “Let’s see. What else … I don’t take compliments well, and don’t like watching myself sing on TV. It’s weird. My favorite color is blue, favorite food is anything Italian, and the one place I’ve never gone but would love to go is Australia.”

  “Anything else? Some of those things your fans probably already know through interviews and articles. Tell me something … deeper, I guess. Not like, really personal, but something no one would know. Like biggest regret maybe? What you’re afraid of?”

  He blinks. “What I’m afraid of?”

  I shrug. “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “That’s easy. My sister dying. It’s my worst fear, ever. I can’t think about it because it could actually be a reality sooner than later.”

  “Ugh, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s just my life right now. As horrible as it is. What about you?”

  “I don’t really—”

  I shake my head. “Never mind. Just ignore me. Sorry. I overstepped. I do that a lot without thinking things through first. I just like seeing people for who they really are. Not just the outside, normal things.”

  “No problem at all. I’ve just never been asked that before, so I’ve never had to think about it.” He pauses, his expression curious, like he doesn’t really know what to think of me. Then his face turns serious. “My biggest fear, physically, is drowning. I don’t know why, but I’m convinced it would be the worst way to die. Seeing the surface so close to your reach and not being able to make it there as the air rushes out of your lungs.”

  I shudder. “Agreed.”

  “Mentally, though, is getting to the point where I don’t care about anything other than myself.”

  “I doubt that would ever happen.”

  “It’s a real problem with my lifestyle, though. My buddies are hooked on all kinds of drugs and only live for their next fix. They spend all their hard-earned money on drugs and don’t care about anything other than that. They spend their money on things like multiple houses and cars and drop girls like yesterday’s trash, just because they can. It’s distorted how they think, how they act. I was part of that for a while until I realized it wasn’t worth it. I don’t ever want to lose myself like that again.”

  I’m quiet for a moment, taking it all in. He lives such a different life from mine. “I figured that lifestyle is tough from all the overdoses and suicides I read about, but I never dreamed it was so rampant.”

  “It is. That’s one reason I want out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I chose this life. It’s my job to figure out how to change it.”

  I nod. While I don’t understand why anyone would choose that life, and don’t relate to it in any way, I do understand how someone could get wrapped up in it when that’s all that surrounds you every day. It would be hard to stay true to yourself, when everyone else is falling away.

  He’s quiet, I assume gathering his thoughts. He looks so serious and I feel bad I made him answer my hard questions. I should think before I talk sometimes.

  He stares at one of the magazines stuffed into the chair in front of him and finally speaks again. “My biggest regret, I think, is not finishing my senior year of high school in an actual high school. I missed out on a lot of stuff and I haven’t seen some of my friends since my junior year.” He taps his knee with his hand. “I was on the track team since my freshman year and loved it. It would be nice to run again. And learn again. I love to learn. Reading is one of my favorite things.”

  “Me, too. I’m so sorry I brought up painful memories for you, though. Just tell me to shut up next time.”

  He looks at me, surprised. “Don’t be sorry at all. They were really good questions I actually had to think about before I answered. It was refreshing, even. And while we’re on the subject, what’s your biggest regret?”

  “My biggest regret?” I frown. “I don’t really know …” What is my biggest regret? I’ve never really thought about it before. “You’re right. This is hard.”

  He eases into a slow smile. “Hey, you’re the one who asked the question.”

  “I know. I didn’t think it would be this hard, though. You’ve accomplished more than I could ever dream of so far. I haven’t really accomplished anything. So, I guess I regret not setting and reaching more goals to do great things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Pushing myself to get perfect grades. Instead I focused on getting Maddy better and played soccer in my down times. I haven’t really cared about my grades. And they’re not bad by any means. I could just do better. I know I could.”

  “Well, this next year, pus
h yourself for a 4.0.”

  “I think I will. I want to get into a good college. Do you have plans to go to college?”

  “I do. I want to study music. Major in it. Maybe teach music to kids. I love kids. They’re just so fascinating and smart and funny. I’d love to have a dozen or so of my own.”

  All I can say is, “Wow.”

  “I’m joking. I would like a big family, though. Maybe four kids.” He chuckles. “Now you’ve got me talking about my future plans that no one else knows about. Not sure how you managed to get that out of me, too.”

  I sink lower in my seat and shut my eyes, embarrassed. “Because I’m irresistible to talk to?”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  I look up at him. “Sorry. I’m not usually so … nosy, I guess.”

  “You’re not being nosy. Just curious. And I like deep conversations, too. I don’t have them often.”

  “Me either.”

  We’re both quiet for a moment. “Well, now you know more about me than 99 percent of my fans. You should feel proud of yourself.”

  “I am. It was … fascinating. Really.” I want to turn the conversation light again, so I pull the subject away from hard things. “I still don’t believe you play the bagpipes, though.”

  “That one is definitely true. And they’re cool. Maybe I’ll put some into one of my future songs.”

  “That would be awesome. And I think it’s so nice that you love kids so much. You’re going to make someone very happy someday.”

  He smiles. “Thanks. But really. Now that you know me a little better, if you need a place to stay, you can stay at my place. My parents won’t mind, I promise.”

  “That doesn’t really tell me anything … useful, I guess. I mean, useful, yes, but I still don’t know what to do.”

  “I know. It was worth a shot. But I promise to be on my best behavior. And my family is really, well, normal.”

  “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

  He bumps my shoulder. “And I’ll talk you into it the rest of the flight. We have four more hours, after all.”

  I chuckle. “Great.”

  “So, tell me about your sister. Maddy. What’s she like?”

  I smile. “I’m impressed you remembered her name. I think I only said it once.”