“Then I guess I’ma be a kidnapper.” I tilted my head, and she shook hers, but she couldn’t stop the corner of her mouth from turning up. “I brought your favorite snack, thin mint cookies, for the car ride.”
“You’re serious right now?” she asked.
“Dead.”
“I’m going, but only because you brought the cookies.” She sighed dramatically, wheeling toward her bedroom.
“Whatever. You know you’re coming for me.” I exhaled, letting the worry I’d been feeling settle. She was in my presence now. Whatever was bothering her, I’d get it out of her tonight.
The ride over was quiet. It was comprised mostly of me shifting my gaze between Noa and the road while she sat on the passenger side eating those nasty ass cookies. That distance I’d been feeling from her was still there. It was all over her face, all in her body language. She looked like she was trying to hold something in. I wasn’t gonna press her, at least not yet. I wanted her to see the surprise I had for her first.
“The studio?” she asked, her voice flat as she stared up at the sign on the front of the building. “We eating at the studio?”
“You trust me?” I asked as I parked in front of the building and cut the engine.
“I guess.” She rolled her eyes, but she was already unbuckling her seat belt. I hopped out of the car and popped the trunk to grab her chair. I wasted no time flipping it open and rolling it to her door.
“Come on, baby. I promise there’s food inside,” I said as I opened her door. “I got you.”
“Okay.” She looked up at me, and nervousness was written all over her face. I held the chair steadily and offered her my hand so she could make the transfer. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
“You don’t have to thank me every time. This is what I’m supposed to do.” I crouched down and adjusted the footrest, using this time to shake off my own damn nerves. I’d never doneanything like what I was about to do with anyone else, and I just hoped it all went smoothly.
“Alright, we ready.” I stood up and made my way toward the building with Noa right beside me. I opened the door so she could enter first, and then I stepped inside. The lights were low, and all the rooms were empty just like I’d requested.
Noa slowed her stride. “Quade…” Her hands flew to her mouth as we made our way down the candlelit hall. I stayed quiet and just watched her take it all in.
Yesterday, after Money and I laid a few verses, I pulled the studio owner to the side and asked if I could rent out the building tonight. It’d cost me five bands and a few favors, but he finally agreed to let me set something up. Ron hooked me up with a decorator he knew, and I told her what I needed, gave her a budget, and she took care of the rest.
“Oh my God!” Noa gasped as we turned the corner into the main studio. “What?” Noa breathed out, and I placed my hand on her shoulder and eased her into the room. It was set up with a whole romantic vibe, candles everywhere. The wildflowers and sunflowers she liked were littered all around the room with petals scattered across the floor and along the soundboard. A table was off in the corner with two plates and real silverware.
“Quade…” Noa turned her chair a little to look at me. Her eyes were already glassy, like she was trying not to cry. “Nobody’s ever done something like this for me…”
“Well, you ain’t never been mine before.” I walked around and leaned against the soundboard, just staring at her. “Welcome to our first studio date.”
“Studio date?”
“Yeah. You remember that little verse I wrote for you when you were flarin’?” She nodded. “Well, I finished it. Made it a whole song and recorded it.”
“No you didn’t.”
“I did, and I want to play it for you.”
“You lying,” she whispered. I shook my head slowly, crossed over to the board, and hit play. The beat dropped, and then my voice came in.
“She said she don’t need fixin’… Her pain, she holding. You ain’t too much, baby. You perfect. You fly through storms,… broken wings still workin’. I ain’t your cure, but I’m hopin’. Me and you together,… we pretty little birds, out here swervin’.”
This wasn’t the old Quade. I wasn’t bragging or flexing. Nah, I was spilling my heart out. All the things I ain’t know how to say out loud, I put it on this track.
“Fly, pretty little bird, fly. Wings bent, but you still touch the sky.” I rapped along with the lyrics. “Fly, pretty little bird, fly. Dark nights, but your soul still shines. I ain’t here to fix your fight. I’m just here to fly, baby. I’ll just fly with you.”
Noa didn’t say anything. She just sat in her chair with her head bobbing and eyes locked on me with every word I spat. I could see her resolve loosen. Tears started pouring from the corners of her eyes until she was full-blown sobbing. I stood from the soundboard and made my way to her. Kneeling in front of her, I didn’t say shit. I just let her cry while I held her. She pressed her face to mine.
“Quade, this is too much. I don’t deserve?—”
“Nah, you deserve more than this. I never want you speaking about no good shit you don’t deserve.” I pulled back, tipping her chin down to look at me. “You hear me, baby?”
“Yes.” She cried and kissed my lips as the song finished playing.
