Whisper to Me(15)

I’d first heard the upright bass at an orchestra concert in middle school. It was a Christmas program I’d begged my mother to take me to, despite the cost of the tickets. My father had tried to steer me toward the football field or basketball court, but I wanted nothing to do with sports. I was playing the piano and guitar at that point, and my teachers had told my parents that I was a natural, talented beyond my years.

Since that night, the sound of the upright bass had always calmed me. It has a low rumble, concentrated and deep. I loved the way it added such a rich layer to jazz and the blues, just as an electric bass grounds all the textures together in rock music. I liked to play either instrument, depending on my mood.

I’d always enjoyed working with my hands. Even dabbled in art and photography, but music was my first love. My original band was Shane, Joe, Logan, and me in my parents’ basement rec room in the eighth grade. We mostly just messed around, but I was probably the most serious about it in the group.

By high school, while they had moved on to other things, I continued playing in several different bands, performing at parties and even at some bars. I was heavy into smoking dope and could have sworn some of my best music was written while I was flying high.

In Amsterdam, I became a damn competent studio engineer. I loved working with new talent who’d come in to record their first albums. If they were a shitty band, no amount of engineering could help, especially if they ever wanted to play live. I’d tell them that they’d have to lip synch forever, or they could practice hard for the next several weeks, then come back and try again instead. Some bands told me to fuck off. Had their eyes so set on fame that they ignored my advice and then fell flat on their faces months later.

My other favorite part of working in the studio was sitting in on bass, or any other instrument, when a band needed extra sound for their demo. I loved losing myself in the music. Creating something new with people I’d never met.

I lit up a joint with the hope that it would help me unwind and actually fall asleep tonight. I was going to work for my father in the morning, and I needed to get my head screwed on straight, so I only took a couple of hits. I didn’t want him to see that my eyes were red or glassy.

Dad had said he was done with me and the music biz, and that I owed him, needed to pay him back after I’d messed up so royally in Amsterdam. And I knew he was right.

Besides, in a lot of ways, I was still the same screw-up I was in high school. A kid who needed to put in extra hours just to earn passing grades. I still couldn’t make it on my own, not yet. Not with only my music to support me. But sooner or later, I would have to prove to him that I could. Prove it to myself, really.

I padded out into the kitchen for a glass of water and then made my way down the hall to Rachel’s room. I opened the door a crack to make sure she was still asleep. A totally brainless and dangerous thing to do—watching her lying there in only her tank top and underwear after I’d helped remove her shorts so she’d be more comfortable. I could’ve slipped inside those sheets so easily and held her all night.

I couldn’t shake the words Rachel had uttered right before I had kissed the hell out of her. She said that I had left her. How was that even possible? She had been the one to pull back, to escape to a college so far away from home.

I considered what a rough time it must’ve been for her. She probably felt like everyone was moving on without her. And I never wanted her to feel that way again.

Just as I pulled her door closed my phone buzzed with a text. It was from Julia, my old high school fling who had also been at the party.

Julia: Everything okay with Rachel? Miles got stinking drunk after she left and spouted off about how miserable he was that she wouldn’t even talk to him.

Me: Poor fucking baby. Yeah, she’s fine. Thanks for checking in.

Julia: No problem. How about you? Are you fine? I’m up at Lucy’s Bar. Miles just left here with some group of friends from college. Want to hang out?

I knew that meant she wanted to hook up. I still had a semi hard-on but the thought of being with anyone other than Rachel made my libido shoot way down.

Still, Rachel would’ve probably expected me to move on to the next girl. For now, I’d let her keep thinking that, just in case it would make her comfortable touching me. But the truth was: I’d rather get off on only my fantasies of her than sleep with somebody else.

At least until the summer was over and she was gone.

Me: Sorry. I’m beat. Catch you another time.

Then I crashed against my sheets, sleep finally consuming me.





Chapter Seven


Rachel





I woke in a bleary-eyed haze. I was only in my tank and underwear—no pajamas, no shorts from last night. How had that happened? I felt tender in certain areas of my body, like my neck, my nipples, and between my legs. And then it all came rushing back. My heart thundered in my chest, and I felt panic rise up in my throat.