Page 8 of Lost in You

I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed in the cookie jar. I didn’t mean to offend her. But the look on her face shows that I did.

“I’m—“

“It’s okay, we can still talk.” I nod for fear of hurting her feelings anymore. My luck, she’d write a song about some rude boy she met in Jackson who didn’t like her music but had the nerve to show up at her after-party and eat her food. She turns away and takes a few steps before looking at me from over her shoulder. I step forward and she smiles.

She fixes a plate of snacks and grabs a couple sodas.

“Want me to carry those?” I ask, holding my hands out for the soda. She places them in my hand, her fingertips lingering on my skin a bit longer than normal. I feel the charge again and wonder if she’s feeling it too.

She slides open the balcony door and closes it once I’ve stepped through. I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but the curtains have been drawn so no one can see us out here. Whoever closed them clearly didn’t see us walk out.

She sits down, pulling a chair close to her. I set the sodas on the small table and sit down across from her. Our knees are almost touching and close enough that we’ve created a table for her to place the plate on our knees. I feel this energy pushing me toward her, as if my body is telling me that I need to touch her.

“So, back to my music. You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. This was the first time I’ve heard it… or maybe the first time I’ve actually listened. Your show was really good though.”

Hadley’s eyes haven’t left mine since we sat down. She squints a bit when I tell her this is the first time I’ve listened to her sing.

“Have you lived under a rock? Sorry, that was rude. I’m just used to everyone being thebiggestfan, so I don’t often run into someone who doesn’t listen.”

“It’s not just your music; I don’t listen in general.”

This time her eyes widen and her mouth drops even though she keeps her lips sealed. “How can you not listen to music?”

I shrug. “My parents don’t like it and I don’t have a radio. I mean, I listen when I’m in the car with my friend, but I can’t say I pay attention enough to know who I’m listening to.”

“Wow, that’s just so—“

“Odd, stupid, strange. That pretty much sums up my parents.”

Hadley reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. Of course it’s just like Dylan’s. She turns on some music and sets it down on the table.

“Well, your parents aren’t here now, are they?”

“No, definitely not.”

“So tell me about yourself, Ryan.”

I look at her questioningly. “How do you know my name? I didn’t introduce myself?”

She bites her bottom lip and looks away from me. Her cheeks turn pink and I can’t tell for sure, but I think she’s trying not to laugh. “Alex told me,” she says without looking at me.

“Oh.” I’m not sure how I should feel about that. Do I like it that she asked or what? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to tell her. What does one tell someone when he or she says “tell me about yourself”? Are they looking for a specific answer? “Um, well, Dylan is my best friend. We live in Brookfield, which is about two hours from here. On Monday I’ll be a senior in high school.”

When I say high school her head snaps up. She studies me as if I’m joking, her eyes moving around my features. My hands rest on the side of the chair and wait for her to say something.

“How old are you?” she asks.

“I’m seventeen.”

“When will you be eighteen?”

“In December.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t think… Crap this isn’t good.”

The awkwardness increases tenfold. She moves away from me. I scramble to catch the plate before it tumbles to the ground.

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