The Songs We Remember: A Young Adult Romance (The Songs in Our Hearts Book 2)

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The Songs We Remember: A Young Adult Romance (The Songs in Our Hearts Book 2) Page 6

by Chantal Gadoury


  The doorbell rang, startling me from the Hallmark movie. I lazily pushed myself up from my dad’s recliner and walked to the door. As I opened it, I was surprised to see Micah standing there with a large Styrofoam container in one hand, a CD in the other.

  “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms against my chest.

  “I came to apologize,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “I’m sorry Marshall got ahold of my phone and wrote what he did. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I replied with a sigh, looking down at my feet.

  “It’s not fine. It was actually really uncool. I punched him for it too,” Micah said sincerely. “I brought a surprise. Can I come in?”

  I lifted my chin, catching his gaze. His smile was coaxing and gentle.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, babe. I promise. We can talk more if you let me in,” he said reassuringly. With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly opened the door, giving him the space to enter before shutting it behind him. Micah walked to the kitchen and put the container and CD down on the table. He turned to face me, gently gripped my shoulders, and sighed.

  “First, I just have to say, I don’t want you to feel pressured to have sex with me, Charlie. I don’t expect anything from you. What we have…right here, right now…this is good enough for me.”

  I stared into his eyes and wondered how I could even begin to believe him. Most boys wanted only one thing. Or, at least, that was what everyone said. But as I peered at Micah, I knew he was different. I had always known he was different from the others.

  “Have you ever…?” I asked softly, feeling my cheeks warm. Micah smiled and rubbed his hands over my shoulders.

  “Doesn’t really matter if I have or not, does it? I just want you to feel comfortable.” Micah shook his head. Yet, I really wanted to know the answer.

  “But really,” I pushed. “Have you ever…done things?”

  “Maybe a few things,” Micah shrugged, “but I’ve never gone all the way.”

  “With girls from Georgia?” I asked, unable to keep the jealousy from being apparent in my tone. This was probably too personal to ask Micah. We hardly ever talked about the fine details of his life in Georgia. His jaw tensed.

  “Yes, a girl from Georgia. Just one.”

  “Not a flock?”

  “Hell, no. I’m not a player.” He chuckled. “Does that make you feel better?”

  “I’m still pretty embarrassed. I mean…I thought I was talking to you. Not Marshall.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, C. But…” Micah tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile. “I do think about you. And I’m glad you think about me too.”

  “So you read the texts?”

  “Of course I did. The moment I realized what he was doing, and that he was doing it on my phone…”

  “How did he even get ahold of your phone?” I asked, tilting my head.

  “Got up to get a soda from the fridge. I left my phone on the coffee table, where we were playing video games. His dad was in the kitchen and started asking about school, so it took a few minutes. Once I came back, I saw my phone in his hands and I nearly knocked him out. I figured he was doing something he shouldn’t.”

  “Why did he do it?”

  Micah shook his head. “I don’t know. I think Marshall gets bored quickly. He’s always stirring up drama and just doing stupid shit. I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of that.”

  Micah leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss against my lips. As he pulled away, he gestured toward the table with a jerk of his chin.

  “I brought Italy with me tonight to make it up to you. I know you once mentioned being romanced in Paris. How does ‘An Evening in Roma’ and mozzarella sticks sound?”

  “It sounds like you planned a very thoughtful apology.”

  “It’s what I do,” Micah said.

  “An evening in Rome with you sounds especially nice,” I agreed. I moved to the living room to turn off the TV. Micah came up beside me, tapping on his phone screen until the familiar voice of Dean Martin began to play from his speakers. I looked up at Micah and smirked.

  “What?” he asked. His cheeks had a hint of warmth on them.

  “I just never imagined you to listen to the Rat Pack.” I giggled.

  “For tonight, I do.” Micah took my hand. He pulled me back to the table and opened the Styrofoam container to reveal a row of mozzarella sticks.

  “I ordered them from that fancy restaurant in town. I think it was the first time they ever had someone walk in just to request a box full of cheese sticks,” he explained as he opened the marinara sauce in the corner and sat down next to me. Dean Martin’s “On an Evening in Roma” filled the air as I dipped a mozzarella stick into the sauce and bit in. So good.

  “Does this make up for what happened?” Micah asked, a small smile lurking on his lips. I nodded as I took another bite.

  “Thank you, Micah,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand. Micah leaned forward in his chair and pressed a kiss on my cheek.

  “Happy Xmas (War is Over)”

  John and Yoko and the Plastic Ono Band

  with the Harlem Community Choir

  I ALWAYS BEGGED TO PUT the Christmas tree up the weekend after Thanksgiving. It had become a longstanding and long-running joke among my family. Really, between my dad and Josh. Sometimes, they’d even have bets on how-long-Charlie-can-wait-till-the-tree-is-up. The first Saturday after the holiday, they’d wait for me in the living room, arms crossed and smirks on their faces.

  Only after Josh, Micah and dad spent the morning putting up the lights on the outside of house, did we decide to move along to setting the tree up. I put a variety of ornaments onto the coffee table while sorting through the plastic bin on the floor, as Josh and dad finished setting up the Christmas tree in front of the living room window. Traditionally, this was the spot where the tree always went.

  My dad clicked his tongue and let out a series of irritated sighs—which also seemed to be a yearly tradition. The artificial tree and my dad seemed to rub each other the wrong way every holiday season. Micah sat on the sofa as he unraveled the colored lights and tested all of them to make sure they worked. I couldn’t stop peeking at him. This year, everything felt so enchanting to me with him here.

  My mom turned up the music on our TV where Michael Bublé was singing one of my favorite Christmas songs, “Christmas (Baby Come Home).”

  “I think I’m ready for those lights, Micah,” my dad said, extending a hand in Micah’s direction. Micah stood quickly and handed the strand to him. Josh stood back, hands on his hips as he watched dad and Micah wrap the tree with flickering colorful lights. My dad preferred them over the plain white ones, I did too. My mom followed behind them, adjusting a few of the artificial branches to open them and make them appear fuller.

  “How does it look?” Dad asked as he took a step back. I grinned and nudged him with my elbow.

  “It looks perfect, Dad.” This was my favorite time of year. Everything was magical and bright. There was a warmth in the air that could only be felt during the Christmas season. I peered around the room, admiring my family, and how happy we all were.

  “Now, for the decorations!” I grabbed a few of my favorites from the plastic bin. My parents had quite a few wooden ornaments from their time in Germany. Mine were mostly Disney related, and Josh had tons of superhero ones. I always tried to shove those to the back of the tree where no one would notice them. Micah picked up a few that belonged to my parents and hung them by the top, where only Josh and my dad could reach.

  My parents stepped back to leave Micah, Josh, and me to decorate the tree. This part was usually something only Josh and I did every year. It felt nice to share it with Micah, though I didn’t know how to say it. I saw him peek in my direction a few times as he slid a golden star onto one the of branc
hes, and wink at me. I hid the last Superman figurine in the back, and took a moment to admire our handiwork. Everything was coming together.

  “I hate when you do this!” Josh glared at me, reaching for the Hulk I had also hidden from view, apparently not so inconspicuously.

  “They’re so tacky!”

  “And your Cinderella isn’t tacky? Maybe I should hide yours too!” Josh tugged the small Cinderella carriage ornament from where I had placed it.

  “Don’t you dare!” I jumped to grab it from him.

  “Kids,” Dad barked. “No fighting.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Josh as he dropped the carriage into my open palm. I restored it to its rightful place. My dad came up behind us with a bag of tinsel and tossed it in different places. My mom or I would often have to go behind him and de-clump some of the areas. He handed a portion of the tinsel to Micah. He took his time to make sure it was spaced out and looked nice.

  “Seems we found a new tinsel man,” Dad said, evidently impressed with Micah. The music on the TV changed to Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” There was something about this song that always made me tear up. It came from the film, Meet Me in St. Louis, where a family was moving away from their forever-home in St. Louis right after Christmas. Judy’s character was trying to console her little sister as she cried on Christmas Eve about having to leave everything they loved behind. She sang with hope that the next year would be better.

  My dad flicked the main lights off in the living room, and we sat down together to admire the Christmas tree lights. I remembered how, as a child, I loved to lie underneath the tree and look up through the glowing branches. It was odd how, even at my age, I still longed to do that.

  “This is my favorite time of year,” I confessed as I leaned back into the sofa. The house smelled of cinnamon—or as I called it, Christmas. The scent was warming as I leaned my cheek on Micah’s shoulder. My dad sat in his recliner and switched on the standing lamp nearby. He slipped his reading glasses on and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, turning off the music and flipped on a TV show.

  “Want to go watch a movie?” I asked, peeking up at Micah from beneath my eyelashes. He glanced down at me.

  “Sure, C. Lead the way.” As Micah stood, my dad cleared his throat.

  “Thanks for helping, Micah.”

  Micah nodded and smiled. “Sure. No problem.”

  Grabbing Micah’s hand, I tugged him back to my room. He sat down on the side of the bed, keeping his hands on his knees.

  “So, what movie are you wanting to watch?”

  “What about…” I lifted a DVD box, “Elf?”

  Micah lay back with a laugh, studying the movie case in my hand as he pressed his fingers against his temples. “Elf? Really?” he asked as he grimaced.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  Micah continued to laugh and shook his head. “Oh please, no.”

  “Oh, come on, humbug! Everyone loves this movie.”

  “No. Everyone loves movies like It’s a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story. Hell, even Home Alone or National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation make the list. But not Elf.”

  “We have Home Alone, if you’d rather watch that,” I suggested, going through the bin I had found earlier that day in the storage closet downstairs. We always stored the Christmas movies away after the holiday season was over.

  “Sure, that I can endure.” Micah lifted himself up on his elbows to watch me. I slipped the DVD into the player and shook my head at him. Micah moved back against my pillows, sliding an arm behind his head, and patted the space beside him with the other. As the movie began, I tucked myself into Micah’s side and relaxed my cheek against his chest. I could feel his heart beating, could feel the warmth coming from underneath his clothes. Micah’s hand drifted to the back of my neck where he gently began to graze his fingertips along my skin, and at times, twirled around my hair.

  “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal,” we both recited with the film, and grinned at each other.

  Once the movie ended, Micah flicked the TV off with the remote that was on my nightstand. Darkness filled the room as soon as the light disappeared, leaving Micah and I lying silently beside one another. I tilted my chin up, glancing between Micah and the warm glow coming from outside the window, where strands of colored lights hung around the house. Micah shifted to his side, leaning his weight on his elbow as he rested his head in his hand.

  “What are you thinking about?” he murmured. My gaze drifted away from the blank space on the ceiling to him as I let out a breath. I was thinking about everything—the first time he had kissed me in my room; our English project; when he came after me in the library. I was thinking about our time at World’s End, with the snow falling all around us, and his crystal-clear words: “I love you.” Micah Jacobs loved me, and I loved him back.

  I mimicked his movements, turning onto my side, gaining a better view of his face. I could smell his intoxicating cologne as I nudged closer.

  “I’m thinking how much I love Christmas lights,” I lied, a small smile lingering on my lips. “They’re about as magical as my ‘La Vie En Rose’ moments.” Micah’s fingers brushed over my cheek and jaw, sending a small tingle down my spine.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked, lifting my chin. Micah’s finger grazed my earlobe and then slowly over my neck. I sucked in a breath slowly, then gently bit down on my bottom lip. I didn’t need to know what was on his mind; his actions made everything so apparent. He leaned in and pressed his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes and lifted my hand to his shoulder, bracing myself for more.

  “You mean so much to me, Charlie,” Micah said as his arm wrapped around my waist. His eyes were warm and dark in the faint glow of lights coming from my bedroom window. “You mean more to me than anyone ever has, ever...in my life. I don’t want to ruin anything. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” I said. Despite not knowing what the future would hold for us, I wanted to believe that Micah wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted to believe that Micah would always be there, that we could withstand anything.

  Micah’s mouth found mine, his kiss soft and tender. As I brushed a finger over the trail of his neck, he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed the curve of my hip, over the space of my back. My fingers dug into his shoulder. I never knew I could feel this way about anyone. I never knew I could ever want someone…love someone…the way I did with Micah. I wanted to get lost in the tangle of our arms and legs. Our lips parted as the two of us glanced at each other, breathlessly.

  “I love you, Charlie,” Micah whispered. I smiled and inched closer as I hugged him tightly. I could feel his heart beating in rhythm to mine.

  Beat. I love you. Beat. I love you.

  “I love you too, Micah.”

  “Believe”

  Josh Groban

  GRAND LAKES WAS DECORATED ALMOST as beautifully as Bedford Falls, the town in the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. School had let out for winter break, and there was a steady snowfall. Many of the roads had a light dusting of white on them despite the traffic of families coming and going. It was a tradition every Christmas Eve for my family to attend the late-night service at our local church. We spent the day wrapping our last-minute gifts and tucking them securely underneath the tree.

  We also had to keep an eye on Josh and my dad, who liked to snoop and lift boxes, shaking and weighing them in their hands. It was amusing to listen to them try to guess what was inside.

  “I want to bring Jackie tonight,” Josh said to Dad, adjusting his tie. Dad quirked his eyebrow.

  “Would that be all right?”

  My dad eyed Josh. “I suppose it is. I figured Charlie’s boyfriend would be tagging along too.” My dad darted a curious stare at me as I lounged on the sofa, still in my pajamas. I was waiting until the last moment to get dressed up
. I hadn’t thought about asking Micah to the church service.

  “I didn’t ask him,” I confessed. “I didn’t think he’d be allowed to come.”

  Josh looked at me in disbelief.

  “Mom and Dad never say no to Micah,” Josh scoffed.

  “Oh, whatever!” I rolled my eyes. “Yes, they do.”

  “Ha! When?” Josh frowned, unraveling the tie around his neck.

  “If you want to invite Jackie tonight, I don’t mind,” Dad said sternly, glancing from me to Josh. “You both can invite whomever you want, but there will be no texting. There will be no game-playing. You’re going to sit and pay attention.”

  “We always do,” I replied, confused. Josh tried to loop his tie and let out an irritated sigh. Dad finally leaned forward to help Josh with his fumbling and adjusted it perfectly. I figured I’d take the opportunity. Leaning over the sofa’s armrest, I grabbed my cellphone from the nearby side table.

  CHARLIE: Do you and your dad have X-Mas Eve plans?

  MICAH: not that I know of

  MICAH: i think my dad is having a few guys over

  MICAH: beer and cards

  CHARLIE: If you don’t want to hang out with the guys

  CHARLIE: You know, the whole beer and cards deal

  CHARLIE: Do you want to come along with my family?

  MICAH: sure! where r u guys going?

  CHARLIE: We always go to the late evening service at church

  CHARLIE: It’s a tradition of ours.

  CHARLIE: I just didn’t know if you’d like to come or not

  MICAH: Yeah, babe. i’ll be over in a few.

  MICAH: what time does it start?

 

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