Sing to Me

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Sing to Me Page 2

by Michelle Pennington


  “Yeah, I get it. ‘Moon River.’ I just can’t believe you said that.”

  He made a sound like he was clearing his throat or something. “Yeah, well, it didn’t sound so cheesy when I was just thinking it.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. It was nice. I liked it.”

  We sat there in silence as strange new currents passed between us. We studied each other, like we were meeting for the first time, until Colby murmured, “She’s asleep.”

  “She is?” I moved my arms to shift her so I could see her face, and sure enough she was. Funny how I was disappointed when I had been so anxious for her to fall asleep earlier.

  I stood up as slowly as I could, trying not to jostle her, and carried her over to her toddler bed. I bent and eased her onto it, carefully pulling my arm out from under her. She moved a little, but only to get comfortable on her pillow.

  Colby was right next to me, watching. He pulled another blanket up from the foot of her bed and tucked it in around her. Then he bent and kissed her cheek.

  I was completely unprepared for the twinge of jealousy that shot through me. He was being incredibly sweet and tender, so what was it about me that brought out his mean side?

  And why did I suddenly care so much?

  I was still trying to puzzle it out when I realized Colby was motioning that we should go. Jolted out of my thoughts, I went to the window and closed the blinds while he picked up his guitar. He motioned for me to go out first then followed, shutting the door softly behind us like a pro. He’d clearly done this many times before.

  Standing awkwardly in the hall, I said, “I know your mom said to let her cry it out, but…”

  “Yeah, I can’t do it either. I don’t rock her or anything, but I sing her to sleep a lot.”

  “I didn’t know you played the guitar.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, a hint of his usual sarcasm returning.

  Flustered by the change of mood, I looked for some way to escape. But until his dad and stepmom got home, I was stuck. Maybe if I tried talking to him, he would lighten up a little. “So, what time is it? I didn’t think you’d get home before your parents did.”

  A shade of something that might have been embarrassment flashed across his face. “Yeah, well, they must be having more fun than I was. It’s only about 9:30.”

  I raised my eyebrows, wondering if he was going to offer any more information. Apparently not though. What guy got home from a date so early on a Friday night? I couldn’t help the perverse feeling of satisfaction that flooded me. “Well, thanks for helping me with Abby. I’d better go pick up our mess.”

  I didn’t wait for him to respond before I turned to go downstairs. I went to the kitchen and started cleaning off Abby’s highchair tray. I put her plastic cup and plate in the dishwasher, and put a package of snack crackers in the cabinet where I’d found them. With the kitchen in great shape again, I went to the living room and found Colby picking up the building blocks that Abby had thrown all over the room.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, kneeling down to help him finish.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. He picked up a few more blocks, then said, “So, I didn’t know you were a babysitter,” Colby said.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I said, mocking him.

  He rolled his eyes and said, “Ok. I guess that was fair. But really, do you do this a lot?”

  “No. I mean, I’ve watched my nieces and nephews before, but this is the first time I’ve been paid to babysit. I’m trying to earn money for prom.”

  “Oh.” He was quiet for a minute as he worked, then he asked, “So you’re probably going with Brian Gibbons, huh?”

  Our hands brushed as we both reached to drop a block in the tub at the same time, and I pulled back, startled - as much by his question as the unexpected contact. How did he know about Brian? “Yeah. He asked me a few days ago,” I answered.

  “Took him long enough.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you’ve been throwing yourself at him all year. What finally did the trick? That picture on Sienna Whitfield’s blog?”

  By now, I was nearly bursting with embarrassment and something perilously close to rage. “I haven’t been throwing myself at him!” Ok, I had been, but how dare he say so. “And who says he didn’t notice me before the photo?”

  “Well, did he?”

  My face flushed as I realized that I shouldn’t have gone there.

  Sienna’s photo blog was known for making people more popular, so I hadn’t hesitated to ask her to help me get Brian’s attention. Sure, it kind of bothered me that Brian had only asked me after my social status was a little closer to his, but I’d gotten what I’d wanted. It didn’t necessarily mean he was a snob. I was probably just invisible before. After all, there were a lot of other girls who liked him too. Why would he notice me just because I was in a lot of his classes and talked to him every chance I got?

  Ok. So, apparently I was kind of sensitive about it.

  We were both still kneeling on the floor, staring at each other over a tub of building blocks. Colby’s eyes burned into mine, daring me to answer honestly. Something about him compelled me to say what I didn’t want to admit to anybody, even myself. “No, he never paid much attention to me before. I wasn’t cool enough.”

  Ugh! Why had I just said that?

  The fire in Colby’s eyes burned brighter. “See. You deserve better than that.”

  “That’s funny coming from you. You aren’t exactly nice to me.”

  “Maybe I would be if you’d give me half a chance.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” he said, standing abruptly and walking out of the room.

  I stayed where I was, stunned, blindly feeling for blocks on the floor. My fingers found one and I dropped it into the tub. No matter what he’d said, I could tell it was something. A crazy suspicion had taken possession of my mind, and I had to know if I was right.

  *****

  The next Friday, I rang the Adam’s doorbell again with my heart beating like a jackhammer. The only thing that kept me standing on the porch was knowing another $30 would be in my pocket when I went home. Ok, that and a disturbing need to see Colby again - the sole reason for the uncomfortable commotion in my chest.

  Much to my disappointment, it was Marcy who opened the door.

  “Come in, Rylie. I’m glad you’re here a little early. It’s so hard to get dressed with Abby following me around wanting attention. Do you think you could keep her occupied for me?”

  “Sure. That’s why I’m here. Can I take her into her room to play? I would love to skip the whole melt down at the front door thing this week.”

  Marcy smile was sympathetic. “I don’t blame you. Here, I’ll kiss her goodbye now and sneak out while she’s not looking. I’m meeting Gerry at the restaurant and Colby is out, so consider yourself on duty.”

  “Sounds great, Mrs. Adams.”

  “Call me Marcy. All Colby’s friends do.”

  I almost corrected her, but what did it hurt to let her think we were friends? The truth was, I didn’t know what we were. Up until last Friday, I would have said we were mortal enemies. At least he’d been talking to me then though - even if it was only to annoy me. Surprisingly, it was way worse to be ignored.

  So, I wrestled with my disappointment that Colby was gone while Marcy picked Abby up and gave her a hug and kiss. Unlike the dramatic struggle to tear herself away from her daughter last week, Marcy barely glanced at her as she sat her down and hurried off to her room, her high heels clicking across the tile as she walked past the stairs and around the corner to the master bedroom.

  When Abby realized her mom was leaving, she started crying for her, but being the intelligent girl I am, I’d brought help.

  I put a sock puppet I’d made at home on my hand and crouched down to get her attention. Then in a squeaky voice, I said
. “Hi, Abby! Will you come play with me?”

  It did the trick. She jumped for me and almost knocked me over, but I recovered and perched her on one hip as I straightened. I took her upstairs, using the puppet to distract her, and sat down on the floor to play with her. I thought I’d gotten used to all the pink in her room last week, but I had to adjust myself to it again. I wondered if Abby ever felt smothered by all the frou frou in this room, but she didn’t seem to be aware of anything but my puppet.

  She was still having a good time with the puppet when I heard the front door shut below. I was kind of surprised it had taken so long for Marcy to leave. I’d assumed she had managed to sneak out a long time ago. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to look at the time and saw that I’d already been here for forty minutes. I guess Marcy didn’t mind being late.

  I worried Abby would figure out her mom had left, so I pretended to have the puppet try to eat her tummy. She laughed and shrieked as she tried to push it away. I went to do it again, and she took off, running out of the room. I wasn’t really prepared for that, so it took me a second to scramble up and run after her. I made it to the hallway just in time to see her dart into another room.

  I followed, but hesitated in the doorway. She’d run into Colby’s room - a place I would have completely avoided on my own. Now that I was here, though, I couldn’t help checking it out. Abby was lying face down on his unmade bed, giggling and peeking around at me occasionally. Seeing the tangled sheets and indention in the pillow did funny things to my pulse, so I looked away.

  An acoustic guitar was in a stand next to the dresser, which was covered with a few notebooks, sheet music, a pile of change, and various charging cords. There was also a photo frame with a picture of a pretty woman. The frame was carved with the words, “In loving memory.” It was then I realized his real mom must have passed away, and I was filled with a deep sympathy for him. Looking at her picture, I felt like I was prying into something very personal, so I glanced away quickly.

  His room was pretty neat, but there wasn’t much in it really. There was a pair of shoes and crumpled up plaid something in the corner that I was afraid might be boxers though. My cheeks flushed and I knew I had to get out of here. I was totally invading his privacy – even if I hadn’t meant to.

  “Come on, Abby. Let’s get out of here.”

  “No!” She squealed as I came closer and I realized she was still trying to get away from my puppet.

  I reached over to grab her, but she wiggled away and burrowed under the pillow in the far corner of Colby’s bed. Since it was a queen sized bed and backed up into a corner of the room, there was no way I could get to her without crawling across it. I stood dithering about what to do, but I finally realized I had no choice. It wasn’t like he’d ever know I’d been on his bed.

  I put one knee up on the mattress and reached for her. My fingers barely brushed her side, and when she felt me touch her, she shrunk away, laughing and squealing again. I realized I’d have an easier time if I took the puppet off. I stripped off the sock and crawled closer to her, trying to ignore the scent drifting up to me from the bedding. It was a delicious mix of clean laundry and Colby. It wasn’t until then that I even knew I was familiar with how he smelled.

  “Come on, Abby. We can’t play in Colby’s room.”

  She looked over my shoulder and said, “Co-yee!”

  I figured that was how she pronounced her brother’s name. “That’s right. This is Co-yee’s room. Let’s go play in your room.”

  “I don’t care if you play in here,” said a deep, mocking voice behind me.

  I don’t know who jumped more when I screamed, me or Colby.

  “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I never would have come in here if I hadn’t been chasing Abby.” My words came out like rapid gun fire, as if I was defending myself from certain doom.

  Colby was actually laughing though. “Don’t worry about it. Abby comes in here all the time so I’m not surprised, and I could hear you from the hall. I didn’t expect to find you on my bed though.”

  I glared at him as my cheeks flamed. “Well I didn’t exactly expect it myself. What on earth are you doing here?”

  “It is my house you know.”

  “Yeah, but I thought you were on a date or something.”

  “No. My band is rehearsing tonight. I came to grab something to eat and pick up some sheet music I forgot.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were in a band.”

  He just looked at me, one eyebrow up and a corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh again.

  “Ok, fine,” I said. “I get it. I don’t know much about you. But whose fault is that? You ignored me all week in choir.”

  “I didn’t ignore you,” he said, though his voice was muffled as he turned to sort through the sheet music on his dresser. Looking briefly over his shoulder, he added, “That would be pretty impossible.”

  “Well, you haven’t said a word to me since last Friday night – not even when I was trying out for one of the spring concert solos. I almost didn’t feel right singing without you telling me not to Butcher my song.”

  “Yeah, well, I thought you’d appreciate it if I gave you a break from all that junk.” He was staring down at the music in his hands, and I thought he was studying it pretty hard, but then he put it down impatiently and turned around to look at me. “Look, Rylie, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was giving you such a hard time. Well, I do, but… um, could you get off my bed? It’s kind of distracting.”

  I’d completely forgotten where I was. Abby wasn’t even on the bed anymore. She’d picked up the sock puppet and was sitting on the carpet trying to pull it on. Now completely embarrassed, I got off and tried to smooth away some of the wrinkles I’d made. Not that it mattered since the bed had been a mess anyway, but I wanted to somehow erase any evidence that I’d ever been on it.

  I was still yanking at the sheets when I felt Colby’s hand on my arm as he gently pulled me away. His touch sent strange sensations racing across my skin. He turned me to face him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at his hand on my arm like he wasn’t sure how it had gotten there. He let go, but only to gently trace the length of my arm with his fingers until they brushed mine and drifted away.

  Only then did his eyes meet my searching ones. There was a spark in his that defied the solemn expression on his face. I caught my breath, completely surprised by the surge of attraction coursing through me.

  Brian. You like Brian.

  But no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t even remember what Brian looked like at that moment.

  “So, are you going to tell me why you’ve been so mean to me?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so shaky.

  “I didn’t really intend to, but maybe I should.”

  “Well, I definitely think you should. I don’t have a clue what I did to annoy you.”

  “I know you don’t. You’re pretty oblivious like that.”

  His words weren’t exactly sweet, but somehow the tone of his voice was – maybe even affectionate. I was so confused and frustrated that I snapped, “Would you just tell me already?”

  “Fine. It was pretty juvenile really. I guess I was trying to get you to notice me – you know? I’d tried talking to you, but you never paid any attention to me until I started teasing you.”

  “You wanted me to notice you? How could I not notice you? You’re one of the best singers in the whole choir!”

  He released a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. Looking at me again, almost piercing me with his eyes, he said, “I don’t mean notice me like that. I wanted you to see me the way you see Brian. I guess I got a little harsh, but I was pretty bitter by that point.” His eyes faltered under my questioning stare. “I guess I even wanted to hurt you, since you were hurting me.”

  “Hurting you?” I almost asked how, but the answer was slowly blossoming in my mind, though my brain was struggling to understand it. “So, you were being mean to me
because you were jealous? But that would mean…” I questioned him with my eyes, wanting him to spell it out for me.

  “You know what it means, Rylie.”

  “I… I’m not sure I do.”

  “Maybe this will explain it better.” He pulled me against him and shattered my world with a kiss.

  It wasn’t a tender kiss or passionate or seductive. It was hard and quick. I could sense his frustration more than anything else. Really, as a kiss it left a lot to be desired. As an answer to my question, though, it blew my mind.

  He was staring down at me, his eyes on fire and his jaw clenched. He was waiting for me to say something. Too bad I couldn’t think coherently anymore. Not after that.

  “Well, there you go, Rylie. Maybe now you’ll figure a few things out.”

  He grabbed a wad of music and left. I stood there, dazed and afraid to think. Did I want to figure out why he’d kissed me? Or why I wanted him to do it again – and do it right?

  Abby wrapped her arms around my knees and asked, “Co-yee?”

  I picked her up and cuddled her close. “Yeah, I know. He didn’t even say goodbye, did he?”

  *****

  It was impossible not to think about Colby all weekend, so I didn’t even bother trying. I thought about him as I ate pancakes on Saturday morning. I daydreamed about his kiss when I was supposed to be studying. I saw his face when I closed my eyes to sleep.

  Prom was next Friday and I had my dream date with the guy I’d been crushing on for months. But was I thinking about him? No - except to regret that I’d ever liked him in the first place. And when I thought about it, I couldn’t even figure out what I’d seen in him except his looks and popularity. As far as I could tell, we actually had nothing in common. But I was stuck.

  When I got to choir on Monday, I immediately began looking for Colby. I saw him across the room looking at me like he’d been waiting for me to get there. The faintest of smiles touched his lips and the tips of his ears turned red. I smiled back despite the unfortunate shyness spreading through me. I tried to answer the question in his eyes with my own, but I knew that I’d somehow have to find the courage to get across the room and actually talk to him.

 

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