Page 132 of Verses

He moved closer—not aggressively, but it was noticeable. “When’s the last time you wrote any lyrics?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I write lyrics when the mood strikes me.”

“When?”

“When my emotions are so overwhelming that I have to get them on paper.”

“Exactly. That’s exactly right. And if you’re all full of butterflies and roses and all sexed up, you’re not going to be writing shit.”

“That’s such bullshit, Kyle. You’re wrong.” There was no way in hell I was going to admit to him that I hadn’t been writing much because I was trying to learn music, something he had been under the impression I already knew.

“Am I? So when’s the last time you wrote something?”

Hewasright about one thing: Ihadn’twritten much and it wasn’t all due to learning to read music. I knew it was probablybecause, on some level, hewasright. I didn’t have any negative emotions to puke onto a page to make me feel better. But Ihadbeen writing with Wolf and about Wolf, something I wouldn’t admit to my ex.

But Kyle was able to readsomethingon my face. “I knew it. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Probably the last time you wrote was when you and Wolf were putting shit together onstage.”

Thiswas why we’d broken up—the fact that he felt like he had to tell me what to do. And I was done. “Fuck you, Kyle. It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“You’re wrong. Itismy goddamn business becauseyou’rethe one who pushed us to start working again. You wanted us practicing, getting better—and we’renotgoing to get better if we don’t write songs. A band that doesn’t write songs is just a cover band. And a cover band is only good for weddings and parties. So get your head out of your ass. You need to stop being selfish and put the band’s needs in front of what you think areyourneeds.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah, I might be an asshole but you know I’m right. I’d rather be an asshole than be wrong.”

Maybe I needed to try a different tack, because what we were doing right now wasn’t getting us anywhere…and I was so tired of being angry with him all the time. “I didn’t say you’re not right, Kyle. Maybe I’m not writing as much lately, but it has nothing to do with getting laid or being happy.”

He got closer to me. “Itdoesn’t? Prove it. Write something right now.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Then howdoesit work?”

“I don’t know. It just does.”

“I’m telling you this is a problem. I’m tired of you fucking everything up.”

“That’s bullshit. If you’re so fucking worried about having fresh lyrics, why don’t you write them yourself?”

That was it. I refused to listen to his bullshit anymore. I was done. But as I started to storm into my room, he grabbed me by the arm. “You think I’m kidding.”

“No. I think you’re serious. So guess what? I’ll move out. Problem solved. ‘Cause, see, you never worried about me having words for songs before—and I’m tired of you and your constant emotional bullshit. It’s not enough for us to have separate rooms.Nowyou want to tell me how to live my life, and that doesn’t fly with me. So I’m getting the hell out of here because I just I can’t stand it anymore.” With that, I yanked my arm out of his grasp, marched into my room, and slammed the door as if to make a statement.

I stared at the doorknob, wishing it had a lock on it.

Fortunately, Kyle respected the distance and didn’t force his way in, although he did yell one last parting shot: “Real mature, Hayl.”

For a few moments, I worried that he might want to continue the fight and come through the door, and I considered moving the dresser over to block it.

Silly.

I sat on my bed for a minute, willing my heart to stop thudding in my chest. Then, after taking a few slow, deep breaths, I surveyed the room.

Never mind getting laundry done. I needed to shift my focus to packing up my belongings and then figuring out what the hell I was going to do next.

Well…notmuch was going to get done without boxes. Even though I had a couple of tote bags in my closet, they wouldn’t hold all of my clothes. I didn’t have much, and it would all easily fit in my car—but it was more than I could carry with one trip.

I needed boxes.

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