“What are you doing?” Melanie’s voice jolts me out of my musical reverie.
I set the guitar down, caught off guard. “I…uh, was playing our old song.” I bite back a smile.
“You were invading my privacy is what you were doing.” She frowns, folding her arms across her chest.
I flinch. “Your privacy? What? I wrote this music with you. It’s just as much mine as it is yours.”
“Yeah, well, the notebooks are mine now.” Hurt clouds Melanie’s expression, and I can’t tell what she’s madder about: everything we’ve yet to discuss, or the fact that I was strumming a memory that sparked feelings she wasn’t ready for. “And no one said you could look at them.”
Anger starts to bubble in my chest, and I force it down. “Melanie, you had it under the ottoman. Just out for anyone to see.” I fight to keep my voice level.
“Well, no one ever comes over here. It’s justme, so there was never a risk of that before.” She turns and hangs her purse on the coat rack by the door. “I’m going to bed.”
Melanie starts toward her room without giving me a second look.
“Melanie, come on,” I call after her.
She slams her door.
Then
Melanie – are you okay? I tried calling you so many times yesterday. Please don’t ignore me.
I’m fine, Josh.
You’re not fine, Mel. I’ve known you long enough to know.
I’m good. Look Mr. Herman is drooling.
I don’t want to talk about Mr. Herman, Mel. I want to talk about what happened on Friday.
You mean how I tried to kiss you and you pushed me away? What’s there to say?
You were DRUNK, Melanie. Jesus. I wasn’t going to take advantage of you.
Well I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember how shitty you made me feel. Why didn’t you want to kiss me, Josh? Don’t you like me? I thought I felt something happening here but I guess I was wrong.
Oh my GOD, Melanie. That’s exactly why I didn’t kiss you.
What?
Because I like you, Melanie. Okay? I like you. As more than a friend. I like you so much that you’re the first person I think of every morning and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. I LIKE you. And I didn’t kiss you because I didn’t want to fuck things up. But I guess I already have.
That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever told me.
It is?
I like you too, Josh.
7
MELANIE
NOW
Iwait until there are no noises coming from the living room before creeping out of my room to use the bathroom. Josh is asleep on the couch, a soft snore coming from his chest. He’s got his left forearm over his eyes and the blanket twisted around his legs. I tiptoe over to the couch and study him while he sleeps. The rise and fall of his chest is so steady, it makes my own chest ache. The creases of his face are relaxed and smooth, no lines of worry, no defenses in his expression, just the boy I used to love.
I remember the way my heart used to race around him, late-night jam sessions, and whispered promises that never made it past September. Back then it felt so simple, until it wasn’t. Now watching him sleep, his quiet vulnerability and his achingly familiar features, I want to reach out and touch him. But I don’t. Because the knot of everything left unsaid tightens in my chest, like a memory I’m not sure I want to keep. Even still, I feel tenderness toward Josh, buried under the weight of old wounds and unanswered questions.
