Page 7 of Sweet Music
“Really,” she said, nodding.
“So, I should post it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said emphatically. “Definitely. Do you want me to record you?”
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll just lean my phone on something.”
She watched as he set up his phone on the coffee table that she had claimed at the church thrift store last spring. It was a little scuffed, but the wood was pretty.
Cody got the phone propped up on her hardback ofIndie/Seen, tapped the screen, and leaned back to perform the song once more.
He didn’t say his name, or modify his performance inany way from the first time. To Bella, he seemed like a normal teen, fooling around for fun on his guitar, but with an intensity that was slightly at odds with the upbeat, catchy nature of the song.
When it was finished, he leaned down and tapped the screen again.
She was blown away all over again at his talent. Cody played that guitar pretty much every minute he wasn’t at school. His hard work was definitely paying off, because if she hadn’t heard all that practicing, she would have thought his performance was effortless.
Maybe I just feel this way because I care about him, she reminded herself.
“Okay,” he said, looking up at her. “So, I guess I just post it, huh?”
“Bill said to use those hashtags,” she said, reminding him of what he’d told her in the car.
“Yeah,” Cody said. “Or no one will see it. I don’t really have any followers.”
“Right,” she said, nodding.
He curled his body around the phone, thumbs moving at that speed it seemed only teens could manage.
“Okay, done,” he said, shoving the phone back in his pocket without really looking at it.
“Nice,” she told him.
“Probably no one will see it anyway,” he said right away.
“Does that matter to you?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“It’s good just to put your stuff out there,”she agreed. “The song will be there waiting one day when someone needs to hear it.”
He nodded without replying, but she could see a little spark in his eyes at that idea, like it pleased him.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” he said, leaning forward.
“Anything,” she told him.
Here it comes. Be here for him.
“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” he asked simply.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” she said. “Definitely. Want to come choose a flavor?”
He got up and trailed her into the kitchen.
Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be the night they had their first deep conversation or cried their first tears together over Harper. But they were bonding. That was the important thing.
It’ll happen eventually,she tried to tell herself.And when it does, I’ll be right here.
