Page 79 of On the Beat

but girl, weren’t you using me, too?

and this ache in my life,

maybe I’ll get over you,

or maybe I’ll just get used—

to this

verse 2

maybe I should get over this,

this bitter poison ivy clinging to our kiss.

or maybe it’s over and you’re over my head.

chorus

damn it, I didn’t even love you

I just loved being wanted

maybe I used you a little

but girl, weren’t you using me, too?

and this ache in my life,

maybe I’ll get over you,

or maybe I’ll just get used—

to this

bridge

call me when you’re gone

call me when you’re done

don’t call me when it hurts so bad to hear my name

—and you flinch every time you see my face

‘cause that’s how I still feel, sometimes

and I never got used to you

Chapter 35: Ryder Black

Los Angeles is colder than it’s ever been.

I’ve never lived in a place that saw snow frequently or a place that expected a white Christmas. The coldest place I’ve been was Maine.

Now, all I feel is the gusts of air conditioning, buffeting my shorts and t-shirt as I roll my suitcase out of the private terminal in LAX, George Hugh behind me. He gestures toward the limo driver in front of us to take my bags. The roar of the jet engines still deafens me, which is good. All I want is for the world to stop spinning and my thoughts to stop churning.

Paulo asked me if Isla wasn’t using me.

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