Underwater (10 page)

We continued to dance together while shouting the words out loud. I closed my eyes and got lost in the music, slipping away and forgetting where I was, where I came from.

Avicii’s
Hey Brother
came bursting through the speakers, shattering my bubble into a million pieces. The melody filled the room with its haunting lyrics. A sharp pang of sorrow shot into my heart as thoughts about Adam flitted through my mind. I couldn’t forget his eyes when he looked at me, so much fright. It made me want to weep from the unfairness of it all. His reaction today, the helplessness I saw in him made him look older than his years.

I stopped dancing and instead of forgetting, all I could do was
remember
. Would this cycle ever end? Why couldn’t I be a normal girl? All I wanted to do was go out and have fun. Why wouldn’t the thoughts leave me alone?
Why?

Feeling a tap on my arm, I looked up. Ella was watching me with sad, knowing eyes. Linking our arms together, she led us back to the table and sat next to me on the stool.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes bore into mine. She was inspecting me. Reading me. “You got lost in there for a while.”

“Yeah, I’m fine… it’s just… the song…” I sucked in a breath. “It reminded me of Adam.”

Nodding with understanding, she gave me a fierce hug. Then, she leaned back, held my shoulders and grinned. “You musicians are so mushy.”

Smiling through my burning eyes, I shook my head. “Shut up.”

She motioned to the waitress to come to our table and said, “I have the perfect therapy for you.” Then she pointed to the stage.

“Hell to the no!”

“Why not? You had a rough day. The only way you truly let go is through music. How long has it been since you sang? Or wrote something down? It’s the perfect way to deal. You should listen to me, I know best.”

“Why? Because you studied it theoretically?” I grumbled.

“No…because I know
you
.”

I had nothing to say to that. She was right about my writing. It’d been too long since I had to sit down and actually write. With everything that was going on, I couldn’t bring myself to pick up a pen. I wasn’t inspired.

But I did sing. I sang to myself and to my dad. When I sang, I was in tune with my body. I felt everything around me. The good and the bad. Sometimes the sensations would overwhelm me, yet it was my remedy. It healed me.

I was afraid though, and like the coward I was when it came to singing, I resisted.

“You know I don’t like to sing in front of people. I get nervous. I hate when people look at me.”

“Babe, you’re pretty so they would look at you anyway.” Giving her a shove, I took a long gulp of my mojito.
 
”You need it Aria. You have a long way to go. What you had today with Adam was not the first and it won’t be the last. You need your sanity, and I
know
you. Your music is the only thing that keeps your head above water. So, please? For me?” She brought her hands in the form of a prayer and batted her eyelashes. “The stage is calling out for you.”

Closing my eyes, I heard her chanting my name…
“Aria, Aria, Aria...”

I tried to tune her out, without success. Then, I tried to clear my mind from every thought that swirled within. Every fear and every excuse that might keep me from going on that stage. There was nothing. My mind, together with the devil in front of me, wanted me on stage.

With a heavy sigh, I nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want learning, or dignity, or respectability. I want this music, and this dawn, and the warmth of your cheek against mine.”

—
Rumi

I
sat in my usual seat at the bar, in the far corner, scanning the place with attentive eyes. So far, it was running smoothly and without any incidents. Just the way I liked it. It felt surreal to sit here, wishing that no fight would break loose. Even though I had it under control, I felt edgy every fucking time I had to place myself in between drunk fuckers.

I’d arrived at the bar only a half hour ago, an hour late.

Leaning across the bar, I crossed my arms against my chest and sighed.

I had a shitty night, and a shittier day. I’d decided to give therapy another shot. So I’d sat on Dr. Kevin Anderson’s sofa, feeling nervous as hell and wanting to run away at every turn. I did the opposite of that. I kept my ass down while I listened to him. I felt like the meeting lasted forever, and when it was finally over, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I knew I had a long way to go, so I tried to stay positive, even though every thought in my mind screamed at me it was pointless.

That it was too late
.

It was crazy, but Tiny’s words hounded me and wouldn’t let me rest. They followed me every day and every hour. This young girl, she meant something to me, even though I didn’t quite know what yet. Her opinion mattered. And she was right. I’d been running away from the horrors of my past. I had no fucking idea if I would ever see her again, but in the span of the short meeting we had, she opened my eyes to the possibility of
more
. Maybe it was the aftershock of attacking her? Or maybe, deep down, I wished that if we ever meet again, she would see that I was trying?

I tapped my fingers on the table in a slow, steady pace, lost in my own private bubble until a commotion that went on next to the stage disturbed my placidity. I lifted my head and started to stand but then something caught my eye, preventing me from moving forward. All I saw was her back. Her light brown hair fell in long, loose waves. She climbed up the stage steps, holding a guitar in her right hand. Her white dress flared at her waist, making her alluring frame appear as angelic as she was.

Motherfucker.

I could only see her back and yet my heart beat wildly. I would recognize her anywhere, the woman who haunted my thoughts for the past three weeks. What was she doing here? Every motherfucking eye in this place was trained on her. Fuckers. Anger flared through me, making me clench the edge of the table tightly.
Calm the fuck down
. As I tried to control my ragged breathing, my eyes stalked her. She stood in the middle of the stage, the strap of the guitar now plastered over her small body. She appeared nervous as fidgeted with the edge of her dress. I gawked like a motherfucker, my eyes wide. She looked captivating. I couldn’t look away.

She straightened and then scowled at someone in the crowd. Following her gaze, I noticed a tall, redheaded girl standing close to the stage. She gave her a thumbs-up while jumping up and down with excitement. From the looks of it, she was probably her friend. When I returned my eyes to the object of my desire, I couldn’t help smiling. She appeared exactly as she looked when she entered the group meeting, as if it was the last place she wanted to be. I would bet her friend had something to do with her being on stage.

Tapping the microphone a few times, she arranged the stand to fit her height. When it was set to her satisfaction, she brought it closer to her mouth.

“Hello everyone,” she said with a shy wave. “I’ve chosen to sing a song that is very dear to my heart.” She cleared her throat. “I had a shitty day today.” I scowled at her words.
What the fuck happened to her?
Her face softened as she looked at the crowd. Every few seconds, her eyes would seek out her friend. Her thumbs were still up. “This song is dedicated to a very special person, and even though he isn’t here, he knows that he will always be safe when I’m around. Well…” she chuckled. “I really hope he knows. I’m going to remind him every day.”

The anticipation started to form as I watched Tiny caress the strings slowly. With another look towards her friend, she then closed her eyes and began to play. The first notes of
Safe And Sound
by Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars flew through the air. Her eyes closed as she got lost in the music.

What I gathered from her speech, she had a special someone.
Could it be her father?
That would make sense. But what if it wasn’t? What if there was someone out there, waiting for her to come back home? I hated the thought of her with someone else.

When soft words erupted through the mic and filled the room with her soothing voice, every thought I had wiped away instantly. All I could see, hear, and feel was
her
. She was a vision, a heavenly being sent to this world with the power to heal anyone who came in contact with her. Her soulful voice made the hairs on my body stand on end. For the first time since I came back home…I felt peace. Her
presence
did that. Her
touch
did that. And now…her
voice
did that.

I closed my eyes and tried to comprehend the message she was sending out. She said that she was protecting someone. From what, I didn’t know.
Another thing I picked up was the verifiable truth that there was some kind of a war going on in her life, and all I could think of as I opened my eyes, is that whatever war she was fighting, I hoped she ended up on the winning side.

And while she was out there, protecting whoever needed her protection, I wished to be the one protecting her. She looked so small, so breakable and fragile. But I knew. I knew it was only a front. There was a fire that burned inside her, and under the disguise of delicate features was a fighter.

And all I wanted was to be her protector.

S
ilence.

All I could hear around me was complete and utter silence.

Oh God, I knew it had been a bad idea
.

When I gave Ella the okay, she wasted no time in dragging me to the person in charge of signing up singers. I had no clue how she even knew where to go, but we registered, and that was the start of my doom. I wasn’t prepared to sing here tonight so I asked the guy behind the desk where I could get a guitar and a capo.

“The only one who can help you is Toby,” he stated dismissively.

I looked at him with a blank expression.

“The bar owner,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a child. “After all, you’re at
Toby’s
.”

This shithead was making fun of me.

Ella took a step forward, preparing to… I wasn’t sure what. Not taking any chances, I halted her movement with a hand around her forearm. She turned and looked at me. I shook my head.
He isn’t worth it
.

After a few beats, Ella asked icily, “Where can we find
Toby
?”

“His office,” he said without looking at us, busy messing around with his phone. “Keep going straight, then go right at the first turn and he is the first door on the left.”

She took my hand and we moved towards his office. When we reached it, his office door was closed. I knocked three times.

“Come in!”

Slowly, I opened the door and we both stepped into the small room. Toby, I assumed, was sitting on a black leather chair, his legs resting on the table in front of him. There was a large bookshelf behind him, with tons of unkempt books, paperwork and folders. The walls were painted cream, and the room had a warm and welcoming feel to it.

“Well, hello there,” the man said with a smile.

“Are you Toby?” I asked timidly.

“The one and only. What can I do for you, ladies?”