“I’m not ready for more. I know guys expect it ...”
He drew me closer to his body and kissed the tip of my nose. “I didn’t know I asked for more.”
“I know, but you’re older. You are performing at bars on the weekends.”
“We got time.” He lifted his hand and gently stroke my cheek.
I scooted forward, holding out the pinky on my left hand. “Pinky promise?” He stared at my outstretched finger before wrapping his much larger finger around mine. “Promise, we will always have time?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Time or I guess we can go for more now.”
I should have gone for more because after that night, everything changed.
***
Tap, tap, thud woke me from my sleep. I pulled the covers up under my chin as I heard another bang on my bedroom window.
“Em, open the window,” Myles said in a half-whisper/ half-scream.
The band had a gig in Nashville, so I didn’t expect even to see Myles until after lunch the next day.
I raced to the window and smiled as Myles stood there, dressed in his tight leather and chains performance attire. He was standing on a cheap folding lawn chair and was bracing himself in the window. His hands were secured to both sides of the window frame. “I. Have. The. Best. Damn. News,” he said and punctuated each word with a quick kiss to my lips. The smell of whiskey on his breath conjured memories of my mom and made me want to puke.
I stepped to the side as Myles tumbled headfirst through the window. He fell on the floor before stumbling to stand up. “We met a manager that wants to sign us. He is even going to pay to have a demo made to send off to some record companies.” His speech started to slur, and he talked entirely too fast for Myles. He sounded like Myles, but he didn’t.
Myles tripped over the air, fell against me, and laughed as I steadied him. He raised a finger and wiggled it before me. “No, hanky panky, we might wake Granny Abby.”
“Are you drunk?” He hushed me by placing a finger over my mouth. The nervousness surged.
“I think so. Jay, our manager.” Myles goaded with a cocky smirk and a shake of his head. “Bought drinks to celebrate. We are going to make it, and I’m bringing you along for the ride.”
I managed to hold him up and shift him onto the bed. “Do you know anything about this Jay?”
“He has worked with some of the best bands in the industry. And he buys some damn good drinks.”
Myles started to pull his shirt over his shoulders. My eyes snapped to his naked torso and the marks marring his perfect skin. Concentrated on his lower back were faded slashes, around nine or so, covering his muscular and otherwise smooth skin.
“What happened? I don’t remember all the scars.”
He quickly shoved the shirt down over his back. “Nothing ”
“Where did you get all the cuts?”
“My dad likes to use whips on me. It’s no biggie,” Myles murmured and reached over to wipe my sweaty hair off my forehead. His hand stilled as he cupped my jaw. His thumb caressing my cheek. The way he was looking at me so intensely. It was the stare my body responded to in a way even I couldn’t understand.
“Does he still?”
He lightly laughed and shook his head. “No.”
“When did he stop?”
“The last time I saw him, I beat the hell out of him. Remember I got back early?” he asked, and I nodded. “He sent me home and told my mom he never wanted to see my sorry ass again.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“I’m not. I don’t care to see his sorry ass either. Fuck him and his money.”
The next thing I knew, Myles had collapsed on my bed and was snoring.
I propped his head on a pillow and ran my fingers through his long hair. He looked so young and innocent while he slept.
“Oh, baby, I love you, but please don’t fall into the trap of drugs,” I said with tears in my eyes. I didn’t talk about mom to anyone, but Myles still knew how much the loss affected me.
Myles and I had a deep connection that even I couldn’t understand. We knew other people viewed us as just a couple of kids, but they were all wrong. I simply prayed that our past didn’t destroy our future.
He turned and snuggled against me, then murmured my name. My heart melted. I didn’t know how I would explain to Granny while Myles was in my bed, but he was safe and with me, and that was all that was important.
Will you still love me when your face is plastered all over the cover of Tiger Beat?
I lay my head on his chest and counted what was good in my life until finally, I fell asleep.
“Emma Danielle Murphy, what is going on here?”
I popped up in an upright position. Granny’s face was twenty shades of the reddest red. A small vein in the middle of her forehead throbbed. I suddenly wondered if she was having a mini-stroke.
“I can explain.” I couldn’t, but I could lie. “He got home from his gig, and his mother had the door locked, and he had forgotten his keys.” That was a believable lie, and it bothered me that I thought of it so fast. I glanced over at Myles. He was still snoring and looked ridiculous sleeping in his stage garb. “Nothing happened but sleep. Look, he still has on that goofy outfit.”
“He should have slept on the couch. I love the boy, but this isn’t an appropriate way for two kids to sleep.”
“Yes, mam,” I said and thanked the good Lord that Myles hadn’t woken up. “Can we take this up somewhere else and let him sleep. He has had a long night.”
“Yeah, I came in to tell you that I had made you some pancakes.”
I climbed out of bed, but not before I brushed Myles’s hair off his face. His first thought was to tell me his good news, but it wasn’t the best news for us. It felt like he was slipping away, and nothing would ever be the same again.
The smell hit me before I took two steps out of my bedroom. Granny was famous in the neighborhood for her cooking. Her pancakes were my favorite, especially her strawberry ones, which she had placed on the bar top.
“Why don’t you run and tell Coraline where Myles is? I’m sure she will start worrying when she realizes he isn’t home,” Granny said as she placed some maple syrup in the microwave.
I raced to Coraline’s with an overwhelming need to protect Myles. When I got to the top step on their small porch, Coraline opened the door and crossed her arms. She still had on her scrubs from working as a CNA in the emergency room all night. “Don’t tell me, Myles passed out at your place?”
“Passed out? He fell asleep when he came over to tell me about signing on with a manager.” I didn’t know if I was gassy or nervous, but it was one of the two.
Coraline looked down her nose at me. “Sawyer was plastered when I got home. What did you tell Abby?”
“That the door was locked, and he forgot his keys.”
“Is he okay?”
I nodded.
“Send him home when he wakes up. Now, hurry back before he comes to and doesn’t know what tale to tell Abby.”
“Yes, mam,” I said, then ran back to the trailer when it dawned on me, I was still wearing only a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top sans bra. Surely, Coraline noticed. Luckily, she didn’t comment on my state of dress.
I had helped Granny clean the kitchen and was watching Saturday morning cartoons when Myles walked into the living room. I had to bite my tongue, not to laugh. His sweat-soaked hair had matted to the side of his face, and his skin had a slight greenish tone to it.
“I told your mom that you left your keys at home and couldn’t unlock the door.”
Myles’s eyes furrowed together before shaking his head as if he suddenly understood the fib I had told. He nodded, then threw himself onto the couch. “Thanks for giving a homeless guy a great night’s sleep.” He pulled my legs over onto his lap and massaged the soles of my feet. “No Price is Right?”
“It’s Saturday,” I replied and bit my tongue not to laugh at Myles in his stage garb. Myle
s craved the stage, and I admired anybody who obsessed over anything as much as he did music. It naturally made me happy.
"Haven't you outgrown cartoons?"
"No, I guess you can say I'm a child at heart."
“I’ve got to go with the guys to meet with Jay. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
My heart knew how it would go—great for the band but bad for us.
***
I leaned against the windowsill in my bedroom and stared at Myles’s trailer. I hadn’t seen him in two days and watched to see if he came home at all.
“Boo,” Myles said as he jumped up to hit the window with the back of his hand. I bounced out of the chair I was sitting on and fell backside first onto the floor. When I stood, Myles had his face smashed against the window, making one silly face after another. I opened the window, and Myles rocked back and forth on the egg-crate he was standing on, grinning goofily at me. I gripped his arms to steady him.
“Come outside and listen to us. We are working on some of our newer stuff. We need an unbiased opinion to tell them I’m right.” Myles laughed. His enthusiasm infectious.
“I’ll meet you outside in ten.”
I had curled up in the corner of the band’s practice shed, listening to Jay, their new manager, raking them over. I soothed my hand down my shaky arm. Couldn’t Jay hear what a talent he had at his fingertips?
Everything about Myles screamed destiny.
The intense stare, the tap of each beat, the lyrical rhythm of his voice.
Myles slammed his sticks with a bang against his snare drum. “No, man. Like this,” he vocalized, by singing the seven different octaves in the song.
“O’Conner! Why don’t you sing backup?” Jay clashed with the band. Their ripped jeans against his leisure suit shouted he didn’t belong.
“No, man, I only sing songs I write.” Myles glanced in my direction and winked. He sang for me often, but he didn’t want to be the front man. He gladly gave that honor to Sawyer. Jay saw, however, and knew that the real talent in the band was my Myles.
“That’s bullshit. You’re a talent, and the girls sense it too—” Jay said, then glared back at me. “You should see how the ladies can’t get enough of him at the shows.”
“You don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground. I’m the one the ladies lust over. Myles is my second fiddle.” Sawyer injected, not picking up the clue that Jay had wanted to get under my skin. He had hated me since Myles let the word ‘girlfriend’ slip out of his lips. I was the proverbial noose and weight around Myles’s neck.
“Bennett shut it and go smoke a doobie,” Jay said and clenched his bottom jaw. My blood burned deep in my veins –drinking, now marijuana.
My fingernails dug into the palm of my hand so much it was painful. I wanted out of there. Pissed wasn’t even a strong enough adjective to describe how I felt. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why they thought any of this was acceptable.
“Em, wait,” Myles screamed as I raced out of there.
“Let her go. In a month from now, your world is going to change. Let little Miss High School go,” Jay laughed.
“I don’t want a world she’s not in.”
Myles chased after me, caught my elbow then spun me back around. “Wait.”
A crushing weight pushed against my ribcage, making it hard to say, “Stay. Only you can evict me from your life.” I combed my fingers through my hair.
“Em,” he whispered and avoided looking me in the eyes.
“Don’t worry. It’s past my bedtime.” I winked then smirked. “I’ve got to get my sleep for the cartoon marathon I plan to watch in the morning.” I raced to Granny’s trailer, feeling like I had inhaled a reefer myself. Only I had never gotten closer to smoking than involuntary inhalation some loser visiting my mother had exhaled. I leaned against the front door to catch my breath and instantly felt the pounding.
“Em, please, baby. I promise I don’t do that crap. Don’t make me choose between my dreams and you.”
Swinging the door open, I shoved my hair off my face and behind my ears. “Why does Jay hate me?”
“He doesn’t. He knows as long as I have you here, a part of me will want to be here too.”
“Go back and show him how lucky he is to have signed you. I’ll be here when you’re finished.”
“Thanks, babe.” Myles kissed my forehead, and the way his lips lingered, I knew I would be starting my new school and life without Myles by my side.
Chapter 7
S tepping off the bus, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. The entire school sprawled out in front of me. It was even more intimidating than I dream. The idea I had to start a new high school was terrifying. School was normally easy. I made decent grades without even putting in much effort. The teachers I could bluff, the other teens, not so much. How did I explain my move here? Talking about my mom was still a touchy subject and would not get me invited to any parties.
Everyone dressed just a little bit better than me. The girls wore their polished oversized blazers, pegged-rolled, acid-washed Calvin Klein’s, and were doused in Vanderbilt perfume. The guys dressed in Levi jeans with an Izod polo, collar up.
Not that I fit in anyway. Mom’s reputation kept the possibility of me ever having a real friend at bay —or maybe, it was me they didn’t like.
Taking me entirely by surprise, Sawyer walked up behind me and pulled me into his side by my waist, and said, “I’m here if you need me.”
Sawyer was a year younger than Myles; therefore, he was a senior and had one more year of high school before he graduated. He tried talking Coraline into letting him drop out so he could tour with the band. She refused, saying he needed a backup plan if the music career fails and a backup plan started with a high school diploma.
Sawyer thought he would appease her but believed he didn’t need school. The band had been lucky so far making money. Their fandom grew daily, and they regularly had sold-out gigs every Friday and Saturday night. They even had a regular Sunday performance at a local teen club, not too far from where we lived.
I wiggled out of his arms. “Sure, you want to be seen with a lowly freshman?”
“Sure, it will make it more believable when I tell them how you lusted after me all summer.”
Sawyer started to walk away when I yelled, “You wouldn’t dare?”
He flipped around and flashed me the sign for I love you. “Just trying to up your game. See you at lunch.” He left me standing there and headed into the main doors that led into the school.
I followed him and maneuvered my way through the noisy crowd. Maple Grove High School was half the size of my old school, so finding my way around should have been no sweat off my back. It was.
I had no idea where to go, so I followed the oversized signs that pointed to the front office. I slapped on a brave face and began to tell the school secretary that I was new and prayed she didn’t ask me any personal questions.
She picked up her coffee mug and the loose paper underneath it, then shook off some liquid clinging to a schedule.
Her hair was sprinkled with more salt than pepper, but the hint of dark mahogany was still there. “The faculty members are aware of your situation,” she said, sending bolts of terror through me.
The last few years had taught me to do what it took to make others feel better.
“Thank you.” My voice had lost the confidence I had found when I was around Myles. I felt safer with him when my head was full of terrible memories.
“Wait a minute.” She fumbled and fingered through a stack of papers strewn across her desk before thrusting a school map into my hands. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“Sure thing,” I whispered as I stared down at the newly printed paper in my hand. English was my first period. English shouldn’t be hard; I had been speaking it since I had learned to talk. I was the first to class, thanks to the fact that the map was very detailed, and no one stopped me in the hall to talk. I took a seat in th
e back of the room and watched it fill with unfamiliar faces. A quick glance around the room emphasized the smallness of the one-horse town. Bell Mills was one of Tennessee’s smallest towns and a place that let me know I didn’t belong. Luckily, no one noticed the new girl with the crack addict mom.
“Good morning, class,” the teacher said, all too excited for the first day of the new school year antics.
I rolled my eyes and rested my chin on my palm when she started taking attendance. Surely, she already knew everyone.
“Emma Murphy?” the teacher said and glanced around the room to examine the oddball who had recently moved to town.
My ears perked up at the sound of my name. I sunk down in my seat as every head in the class turned to stare and raised my hand. I moaned in relief when the teacher welcomed me.
Before I knew it, I had already spent half a day in that hellhole. And to no one’s surprise, I had made zero friends, zip, zilch, nada, but it was just the first day.
I crammed my books into my locker and found my way to the lunchroom. The cafeteria could have been described as my own personal hell. I loved to disappear in the background, but there was no way to perform a disappearing act when you’re the new girl in town. If anything, there was a neon sign hanging over my head with the words, Grody to the Max, flashing in neon lights. Ignoring the stares, I grabbed a can of pop and a box of Runts before walking to an empty table at the back of the cafeteria. I opened my copy of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary to read while I ate when I felt someone sit down beside me. Glancing up, I found a set of bright blue eyes staring back at me—Sawyer Bennett.
“How’s it kicking, unicorn?” His eyes sparkled with some unknown excitement.
“I know I had on unicorn house shoes the first time you saw me, but do you have to keep calling me that?”
“Oh, baby doll, I don’t call you that because of those dirty old things,” he said and grabbed a Runt out of the box I was holding. Myles loved making fun of me for loving those little fruity chalk pieces.
“Then, why?” I said and slapped his hand away as he went to grab another one.
“Because you must be one of a kind. You are the only thing ever to get Myles’s mind off the music. An oddity for sure.” He reached up with one hand and pushed his hair off his face. He did look hot when it was back like that. I can see his appeal in being the front man in the band.
Her First, His Last Page 4