Page 155 of Toxic Wishes

I furrow my brows and tilt my head to my side. Was she concerned about me now? “Why? Are you going to send me a postcard?” Sarcasm slips from my lips.

“No, I-I,” she stumbles over her words. “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay.”

“I will be because wherever I go, it will be far away from here.” I yank my arm free and grab the handle of my suitcase, and the second I look up, she meets my gaze.

“Abigail, I truly am sorry.”

My eyes burned from the pain. I squeezed my hand around the handlebar tighter.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

She looked like a woman full of regrets, and for the first time, she looked old. She was worn out. I saw the youth she was holding onto. And instead of anger rising from my core, it was pity. It sat there and took a front-row seat as I etched this moment of her in my brain forever. She has no idea how sorry she’ll be once Toxic Wishes is released.

Later that night, I popped the CD in after I poured myself a glass of wine. I sat on the bed in my sister’s guest room and got all cozy. As I sipped on my wine, my heart started to race the minute I pressed play.

Blake appeared on the screen within seconds, and the biggest smile spread across my face. My Blake—even on screen, I could see his cute dimples.

“Well, this is round two of rehab, so I figured what better way to pass the time than a bit of music. We all listen to music for our own reasons, and some say music can heal wounds that others cannot. Sometimes, that’s how I feel, especially while I’m in here surrounded by addiction. And the only thing that’s helped me get through is all the wishes I hope to come true. Every day at 11:11, the most potent wish I hold onto is toxic and selfish, but mine.

Tightness strangles my chest, traveling up my throat, making it hard to breath. I want to turn the TV off, but as soon as he starts playing his guitar, the notes paralyze me along with the words.

It’s this heart that’s going numb. It's all a part of growing up, right? We search for answers that never come. Pray to a God that never seems to answer—holding out for days and better ways when all the pain stays the same. When did this wish become a broken promise?

On a road that feels like I’m going nowhere except for down there. Going Down. The only thing that keeps me holding on is all the broken promises. I can only swear they’ll turn into wishes.

My Toxic wishes.

She is the one that I dream of kissing, that I’m missing.

Her face is the one I see in the distance when I’m pfenning while dreaming.

Just one more wish to make it through because it’s always been you.

My toxic wishes, please come true.

50

Abigail

“Some days there won’t be a song in your heart. Sing anyway.” — Emory Austin

The next three months flew by. Before I knew it, I was stepping off a plane and checking in at the Four Seasons Hotel near SoFi stadium. Just being in the same city as Colt had me on edge. And I looked over my shoulder every two minutes, even at the check-in desk. Nora flew in yesterday and was waiting in the lobby when I arrived.

“Abigail!” Bodie says as he comes running to me. My heart nearly burst at the sight. He looks like he has grown an inch since I last saw him. The last few months, I haven’t been able to see Bodie as much with work, end-of-school exams, and getting the album Toxic Wishes together. I wanted to have it ready before I came out here with Josh. I wanted to make sure Mel could run it by her dad to give to some music producers while I was out here, hoping to meet with some of them before the Super Bowl. That was one of Blake’s wishes. To have one of his hits be sung at halftime, where his brother would be blown away.

I made a copy of Blake's CD in the back of his journal and asked Josh to send it to him when I gave him the green light. It wasn’t just a CD of songs but more of a live journal. Since you can’t write down songs and hear how they sound in a journal, he played them while he recorded himself. Each track was a dedication to one of us. His brother, his dad, me, or his mental health and the struggles he went through. It was like a song journal, and after hearing it all. I know Colt had to listen to it, but he hasn’t reached out to me or called after Josh gave him the CD, not that I expected him to, but I would be lying if I said I didn't think he would. It was the last tie holding us together, and now that I’ve had a month to be at peace with it, I think I’ll be fine. When Josh proposed the idea of me coming as his plus one, I was opposed, but when he said it would be a great reunion because Mel was driving down here to stay with us, I couldn’t say no.

“Oh my goodness, you have gotten so big,” I say as I wrap my arms around him.

“Yeah, I’m the biggest one in my class now,” he says.

“I believe it.”

“And I’ve been practicing my vibrato ever since our last lesson. I think I'm a master at it now. Maybe you can come to our room, and I’ll show you.”

I chuckle. “Okay, but let me check in and get settled first.”

“Yes, Bodie, I told you you have to calm down. We are here for your daddy. This is a big deal, remember. If we have time for your guitar show, we’ll watch you, but right now, let everyone get settled in before the ceremony dinner tonight.” Nora says.

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