Page 164 of Resurrection
And then the high became the low. I just stood there, happy and content one minute, and the next, I was spiraling. Surrounded by people but alone. And all of the madness in the bar seemed pointless becauseshewasn’t here with me.
"Gotta take a piss. Be right back," I said, more to myself than anyone else. I needed a second to think, to breathe, to figure out how I got here and what Iwanted. Because now that I’d achieved the dream, I felt like something was still missing.
Curtis didn’t even look up.
I pushed through the crowd, unsteady and unsure, and slipped into the restroom. I entered the only stall and shut the door. My hand was a shaking mess as I fumbled with my phone and scrolled through the contacts.
When I found the one I’d been looking for, I stared at it for a while.
I stared at it so long, I thought I’d lose my nerve. My mind was a tornado of tequila and nostalgia.
I thought of her, of all the times I didn’t reach out to explain why I left. Of all the times I didn’t have the guts. I’d been embarrassed, I realized, that I was still a nobody after so much time in this city while she’d already graduated from culinary school and was making waves.
Tonight was different.
I’d finally gotten the best gig an unknown guitarist could find in LA.
Several months ago, my mother had given me this number, saying it was Naomi’s cellphone, asking me to call her.
I pushed the button, pressed the phone to my ear.
It took four rings for Naomi to pick up.
"Hey, Nomes," I rasped out, sounding like a complete asshole.
Silence.
My heart was a reckless drumbeat in my chest.
"Ty?" she finally choked out.
"Surprise, surprise." I was leaning against the stall, trying to stay upright, trying to keep it together. "It's me." The words were as shaky as the phone in my hand. I heard Curtis shouting out in the hallway.
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"A little. Yes." I bit my lip to hold in the hiccup.
"Do you know what time it is?"
Hearing her voice was a punch to the gut, a reminder that I wasn’t as empty as I’d thought. "Late," I mumbled.
"Ty? Are you— Is this—" Naomi’s words were thick and sleep-dazed, the kind of sound I thought I’d forgotten, thought I’d buried in the mess of everything else. I wasn’t prepared for it, for how it would hit me.
"I got a gig."
The silence stretched so long, I thought the call had dropped. I didn’t know if it would matter to her. I wanted it to. I wanted her to care. But she seemed withdrawn.
"What gig?"
"The big one," I said. I clamped a hand over my other ear to hear her better. "The kind I always wanted."
She didn’t speak for a few heartbeats again. It killed me, every second of it. Every second of the doubt. "And you thought you’d tell me?"
"I thought you’d wanna know." I closed my eyes, tight. I wanted it all to stop spinning.
"I’m— I’m not sure what to say, Ty. Congrats, I guess."
"You don’t have to say anything," I mumbled. "Just wanted to tell you." I wanted her to be the first to hear it, the first to know that I was on my way back to her. "I’m good enough for you now."
