“Okay, so it’s kind of big, but I’m also trying not to jinx it.” Lilli starts lathering her face with facewash.
“Okay?” Anticipation builds, and I wonder if she’s doing this on purpose, or if she’s just distracted by washing her face.
She splashes water to rinse the soap away. Grabbing a towel and patting her face dry, she turns to me. “Ripple Records sent over a contract!” She could hardly contain her excitement, and why should she? This was what we wanted, so why did I feel like the ground was caving beneath me?
“That’s amazing! Why would you ask me not to be upset? This is great!” The shoe is going to drop, I know it. I can see it in the way she’s wringing her hands.
“The thing is, the contract they sent was for Lillian.”
I hear it, the words she’s not saying. They don’t want me. They don’t care that half of Lillian’s set was written by me. They don’t care about my songs. No one cares.
My eyes can’t focus on her face, so I stare at my pen cap. I pull back the tab of it so it snaps down, and Lili flinches when I let it snap. I feel bad about it, but not enough to stop. I need the outlet.
“I haven’t signed it yet,” Lilli says.
“Why not?”
“I sent it to my mom to look over.” That makes sense—her mom is a paralegal and works on employment contracts frequently. There’s something else hidden behind her words; if she sent it to her mom already…
“You haven’t signed it, but you’re planning to.” It’s not a question, but she answers me anyway.
“Ripple Records was always the goal, and I think, maybe, this could be a good thing for both of us.”
I’m silent, words not forming sentences in my head right now. I hate that she sounds like she’s apologizing. I hate that there’s a part of me that wants her to turn it down. I shake my head, ashamed at the thought.
“You deserve to have your own musical career outside of me,” Lilli was saying. “That why I’ve been pushing you to perform with me; you write so many songs, and they’re all so good. You should perform them. I know you have notebook after notebook filled.”
My mouth is cotton. “You’re assuming Ripple Records would even want me on my own. They don’t even want me in tandem with you.”
Lilli flushed red. “So we just need to show them that they should want you!”
“Yeah right.” I sound bitter because I am, though I wish I wasn’t. I want to be happy for her, so I focus on that and swallow down the resentment. It’ll pass or it’ll fester, but right now, it needs to take a backseat. I take a deep breath. “I am happy for you.” I get up and take her hands in mine as I force myself to make eye contact. “If your mom says the contract is good, you should sign it. You deserve this.”
Tears start to well in her eyes. “You do too, though.” I shrug. “No, really,” she continues fiercely. “You are an amazing lyricist and an incredible singer. I hear you in the shower, while you’re doing dishes. You sound amazing when you aren’t even trying.”
“I’m not a performer, though,” I say, that same old line sounding tired and frail. “I don’t have stage presence, remember?”
“Ugh!” Lilli groans in frustration. “You need to stop leaning on one piece of criticism from one guy fucking ages ago who only saw you perform on a bad day.”
“I thought I did great, but it shows that I didn’t. How can I trust my own interpretation of my performance?”
“Trust me.”
“You’re my best friend, Lillipad. You’ll always tell me I did great.”
“Just the truth.”
“Just a skewed version of events,” I counter playfully.
“You don’t trust me?”
To the contrary, I think to myself. Lilli is like an extension of me, and I don’t trust myself.
24 - Connie - Then
Lilli and I drove to the closest store to get swimwear for the pool party at the hotel. We weren’t sure who was hosting exactly; it was more of a word-of-mouth invitation. So, naturally, when Chris asked Lilli if we’d be there, it was an automatic yes, even though we weren’t prepared in any way whatsoever.
“Why do they always sell bikinis as individual pieces? I need coverage on top and below, thank you,” Lilli complained as we perused the meager selection.
