Echoes of Us (9 page)

“Do you sing too?” Jade asked, plucking at the strings.

“What? Oh, I mean a little,” I said. “Not very well.”

“He’s lying, Jade,” Maggie shouted from the kitchen. “He’s good and his lyrics are awesome.”

“Shut up!” I shouted back, because I didn’t know what else to say.

Jade stroked the strings again and started strumming. He stopped after a few chords and tuned a string before he resumed playing.

“See if you recognize this one,” he said, picking out some notes. Maggie appeared in the doorway and stared at him. We both knew the song.

When he opened his mouth and launched into “Maggie May,” I almost slid off the couch, and Maggie looked like she was having a spontaneous orgasm on the spot. Hearing him sing had been good last night, but I had been outside, not sitting right next to him. Now I heard all the nuances of his voice, and it was like heaven. I was transfixed, frozen with wonder as he sang the words and coaxed the notes from his guitar.

“Take the next verse, Rylan,” Jade challenged. When I didn’t move, he nudged me with his knee.

“What?”

“Sing, Rylan. Sing the next verse,” he repeated. I wasn’t sure if I could make my voice work. He grinned when I started to sing. His foot tapped out the beat, and when he joined me in the final chorus, the real Maggie Mae turned into a fangirl and screamed.

“Holy shit, you guys sound great together. Rylan, you need to teach Jade one of your songs. Please. Please,” she begged. She got down on her knees and crawled across the floor, like a woman dying of thirst.

“God damn,” Jade said. “We did sound good together.”

“You should get your keyboard,” Maggie said.

“You play keyboard?” Jade asked.

“A little,” I said. “I took a few years of piano lessons until my dad made me quit.”

“Why would he make you quit?”

Shit. I wasn’t about to reveal the truth to him. My brother had told my dad people were making fun of me for playing the piano. Lucas told my dad he didn’t want me to get beat up, so my dad decided it was best that I stop playing. Really, Lucas thought I was getting out of work because of the lessons.

After my dad made me quit, my music teacher at school let me practice during one of my free periods.

“Not enough time. When I got older, I had to help with the planting and the harvesting and all the other fun shit that comes with living on a working farm.” I shrugged. “I started playing again when I met Maggie. She gave me a keyboard.”

“I’ll get the keyboard if you show Jade the lyrics you wrote this afternoon,” Maggie said.

Sweat beaded up on my forehead, and I shifted uncomfortably. Jade placed his hand on my forearm. A wave of calmness flowed through me.

“You don’t have to show me,” Jade said quietly.

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I just….”

“Rylan, I won’t laugh at you,” he said.

Maggie cleared her throat. She was holding the notebook, giving me an encouraging look. I nodded, and she handed the book to Jade. I suddenly had the urge to bolt out of the room, but Jade shuffled closer to me. We were now touching from our shoulders to the tips of our shoes.

My leg vibrated as I watched his eyes shift from side to side as he read what I’d written a few short hours ago. He read for a few minutes and then picked up his guitar and strummed different chords before he settled on one and started singing my lyrics.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maggie fumbling with her phone, but Jade’s singing pulled me away from her. He stopped playing and I wanted to protest, but he changed a few notes and started again. This time he kept going, and the words meshed with the melody.

When he sang the last word and strummed the final chord, I was awestruck and unable to form a single coherent word. Maggie slid down the wall and sat on the floor with her mouth wide open.

Jade squirmed nervously next to me.

“Say something,” he said.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“It was your lyrics,” he said. “I’ve never had a song come so easily before.”

“You want to try another?” I asked.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding? You are unbelievably talented, and your voice is perfect,” I gushed.

Jade’s face was bright red, and I couldn’t resist squeezing his elbow. He hooked his ankle with mine, which sent my stomach plummeting into my shoes again.

He fiddled with his guitar some more. I could hear Maggie rummaging around my bedroom. She came back carrying a pile of notebooks she’d fished out from under my bed. The living room was soon cluttered with open notebooks.

After a ton of prodding, Jade brought some of his journals out and let me read his lyrics. He begged me to make changes, telling me he wouldn’t be upset if I changed everything. It wasn’t that hard to clean up his words and make the lyrics flow better. I understood what he was trying to say with his songs.

At around two in the morning, Maggie reluctantly took the guitar away from Jade. We had class in a few hours, and sleepwalking through the first day of summer session was probably not the best idea.

We both protested, but Maggie frowned and shut the living room lights off. Jade groaned, resting his head on my shoulder.

“I can’t move,” he said.

“Me neither,” I agreed. When Maggie left the room, he leaned against me, the warmth of his body seeping into my side and making me sleepy.

“You’re a great writer, Rylan,” Jade murmured. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it over both of us. “You’re also a great pillow.”

I’m not sure if he said anything else, because the next moment, Maggie was shaking both of us and shouting about being late for the first day of class.

There was a lot of scrambling and swearing before we all piled into the car. We made it to the train station with about two minutes to spare. The Red Line waited for no man, woman, or child.

When we slid into our seats, all I could think about was how great last night had been. The songs played over and over in my head. Hearing my lyrics combined with his music and my words falling from his lips affected me more than I wanted to admit.

It was the first time in a very long time I had really shared an important part of myself with another person besides Maggie, and it scared me out of my wits. Jade smiled at me, and an insane giddy feeling spread through my body.

T
HE
DAYS
passed in a whirl, and we all fell into a comfortable rhythm. Jade and I ran or biked in the morning. When we got back, we showered, separately of course, and had breakfast with Maggie, listening to her bitch about her horrible history professor. She had put off getting her upper level humanities courses and was paying for it now.

My writing class was going quite well. I didn’t think I’d enjoy constructing entire stories, but once I got past the initial fear of failure, the words flowed easily. Today we were going to attempt to write a sex scene using thoughts and feelings instead of painting graphic pictures with words. I was going to fail miserably. Feelings were banned in my bedroom, and remembering the few times I’d let feelings get in the way would not make for a very romantic, pretty picture.

“Come on, Rylan,” Maggie grumbled. “I don’t want to be late. I’m having enough trouble in this stupid class.”

“Maybe we should skip today,” I said. “We could go shopping.”

Tempting Maggie with shopping was mean, but I was desperate to skip this assignment.

“You hate shopping,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Maybe I would like to spend some quality time with you.”

“Shopping is not quality time, because you make it through one store and then start whining. Spill,” she said.

I groaned. “Today’s assignment is writing a sex scene using feelings instead of graphic description.”

“Did the professor tell you it had to be sticky sweet?”

I frowned and flipped through my notes. “No, but….”

“There’s your answer,” she said. She grabbed me by my belt loop and dragged me to the car.

About an hour later, the tap, tap, tap of people typing surrounded me while I stared at a blank screen.

I had asked the question and the professor agreed with Maggie. “You are absolutely correct, Rylan. Not all relationships are based on love. But I don’t want you to write a sex scene involving a prostitute. If there aren’t any feelings, I want to know why.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I mumbled.

“Rylan, you are a wonderful writer. You can do anything you put your mind to. I’m not asking for an autobiographical account of your love life. It’s just a story. It can be fiction.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” I said. I still wasn’t happy about this assignment.

People always say write what you know, but screw that; I wasn’t about to write about all my failed relationships.

I thought about basing the story on one of Maggie’s relationships. She once dated this guy who was boring everywhere except in the bedroom. Maggie had strung him along for a few weeks, but eventually, she ditched him. Her body mourned the loss for two weeks.

I thought about Jade and his girlfriend. I didn’t know the exact details, but I witnessed the end of their relationship. My imagination could fill in the gaps.

It was a disturbing piece to write. I could have written about the beginning of the relationship where the sex was new and exciting, but I settled on describing the end of their relationship when having sex became more of a duty.

The story centered on the last night they were together as a couple. There were no fireworks to end the relationship. It fizzled out and after two years of dating, the end came down to a few cold words before the main character loaded his possessions in his car and drove away.

When I completed the assignment, I thought about Jade and his ex again. You’d think after two years of dating he’d at least have moments of regret, but Jade never even mentioned Daria. Relationships scared the hell out of me. Did this happen to everyone? You think you’re head over heels and then one day, the flame just goes out? I would never let any of my liaisons go that far.

The professor stopped us before we all scattered. “There’s a life drawing class in a few hours I would like you all to attend. If you can’t make it to that one, I have a list of different times. Observe and write.”

After my writing class, I needed a drink, but it was too early in the day to justify a shot of tequila. I settled on a giant vat of mocha latte. Jade sent me a text, and I told him I was still on campus, waiting to attend a life drawing class. He told me he was going and I could use some of his tools if I wanted to participate, or I could sit in the back of the room and write.

I’d been to a few life drawing classes last summer, and it was always the same. The guys would come rushing in all bright-eyed and flushed in the face. If you were a straight guy, you learned to jack off before sitting in on one of the sessions. Apparently, there were a lot of hot girls willing to strip naked and pose for the sake of art.

When we showed up for the class, it was already packed, and the professor ushered us to the front of the room and the last two chairs. Wonderful. I was going to get an eyeful of tits and pussy.

Jade handed me a tablet and several pencils.

“Thanks,” I muttered and set up my easel, keeping my head down. The sound of a chair scraping across the wood of the platform alerted me to the presence of the model. The professor suggested various poses and the model dropped her towel.

Jade cleared his throat, so I looked over at him. He stared wide-eyed at the model. She must be totally hot, because his face was bright red, and I noticed tiny beads of sweat trickling down his neck.

I sighed at the typical male response to a naked woman, then raised my head to see what sort of body made Jade hot. Big tits? Skinny or curvy? Long hair or short hair? Blonde or brunette?

I lost my breath. Instead of a naked woman, my gaze fell on light-green eyes, dark hair splayed on broad shoulders, and a hard, flat chest with a smattering of hair that led to a cock.

“Fuck,” Jade breathed out. I returned my attention to him and watched as he lowered his eyes and took a few shallow breaths before placing the pencil on the paper. His hand shook and a dark line squiggled down his paper.

Jade frowned and steadied his hand. I wanted to watch him draw but my gaze kept shifting to the naked guy in front of me.

I wasn’t sure how I made it through the next hour. By the time the professor handed the guy his robe, I had a major headache. I think it was because most of my blood flow was located in my fucking dick. Staring at Jade and a naked guy sent my imagination reeling.

“I’ll be right back,” Jade said. He rushed out of the room before I could say anything. I packed up his stuff and stood outside waiting for him. A flash of jealousy flared when I saw Jade come out of the bathroom followed by the model.

The model frowned when he saw me wave at Jade. I shrugged and gave the guy a quick shake of my head, trying to tell him he was barking up the wrong tree. Besides, if there were any chance Jade was gay, I would be the one barking.

“Sorry about that,” Jade said, taking his portfolio out of my hands.

“Sorry for what?”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“No, I was okay.”

Jade ran his hands through his hair. “I… I…,” he stammered, and I sighed.

“I need to go to the library,” Jade said, keeping his eyes away from me. “I’ll be home later.”

“That’s fine,” I said and bolted, leaving him standing in the hall holding his portfolio. I wandered around campus for a while before I made my way to the train and went home.

“Maggie!” I shouted and slammed the door. “Maggie!” I yelled louder.

“What?”

“You’ve got to cover for me tonight,” I panted.

“Rylan, calm down,” she said. The tips of her hair were now pink. It was a strange thing to notice, but I was beyond crazy at the moment.

“No, I need to go out, like now.”

“Why?” she asked. Her nails matched her hair.

I grabbed her shoulders. “You don’t understand. I can’t take this anymore. He’s everywhere and I want him, but I can’t have him because he’s my fucking friend and our roommate. I don’t even know if he’s interested in me. I can’t even think straight because I’m not getting enough blood to my brain. It’s all moved down to my dick.”