Page 106 of Down Beat

THIRTY-NINE

Rey

Ordinary – Like A Storm

She thinks I can’t hear her cry, but I can, and it fucking tears me apart knowing I caused that.

Water runs in rivers from my hair, slicked over my face, hiding my eyes. I like it, the pretense of a cloak to hide me from the world. I stand in the shower until my fingers wrinkle, even my dislike of water not enough to shift me from this spot.

Her sobs have stopped by the time I decide enough is enough and dry off to head through to the bedroom. She lies on the bed, curled in on herself as her fingers fidget with a fold in the sheet beside her.

“You okay?”

She snorts a bitter laugh, refusing to move. “Shouldn’t I ask you that?”

I make my way to the bed wearing only my boxers, and slide on to sit beside her, my back against the headboard. “Difference is, I’m used to this. You’re not.”

“Your prolific phone use made a review of the show,” she states flatly, sliding her phone toward me.

I skim the headline on the link to the article, not in the slightest bit interested in reading what the piece has to say. “Never mind the music, huh?”

“What were you doing?” She goes back to toying with the sheet. “You only messaged me once.”

I reach down and take her hand, stilling the anxious fidgeting. “Mostly refreshing it to check if you’d replied.”

She swallows, fingers flexing beneath mine.

I slide down the bed to lie face-to-face with her, and yet she still can’t look at me. “Remember what I said about how it makes me feel when you can’t look at me?”

She nods. And yet she fixates on the bed between us.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to cry for you anymore. That’s not why you brought me here. I’m trying, Rey. I really am, but I don’t think I’m the person you need. I’m not strong enough for this.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.” Her eyes flick up to mine—it’s a sucker punch straight to the gut. “Look at me, for fuck’s sake.”

“I am.” She pulls in a sharp breath as I bring my hand to her face, easing the stress lines with my thumb. “The only person who has ever cried when I told them how I felt is my mom.” I chuckle at how ridiculous it is to lie on a bed with a girl I’m madly in love with and talk about my fucking mother. “You know what that tells me?”

“I’m soft?” She smirks.

“You care.”

Her gaze drops before she finds enough courage to speak again. “You said you love me.”

“I said I think I do.” I’m not sure, to be honest. I can’t trust what I think at the best of times, so how do I know this is a feeling that’s going to remain and not one that’ll pass with time? “I know I need you like crazy, and I can’t think of any other reason why that would be.”

“Because I shut out your loneliness.” Her face falls as she rolls away. “I don’t want to start something here if it’s going to be based on dependency.”

“Why is that so bad?” I follow her across the bed and lie propped up on my elbow to look down at her. Like fuck she can just take off when it gets too intense.

“Because the whole point of me being here is to help you find a way to self-soothe through your music.” She shifts her gaze to mine. “We haven’t touched a damn instrument yet.”

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