Touching Melody (A Forever First Novel) (14 page)

Kyle grabs my hand. “Wait.
” He must see something of what I’m suffering because he asks, “Are you okay?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. My teeth are like two
sets of vises, holding back all the agony inside my body. If I open my mouth, everything—all the pain, the hate, the anger—will spill out. I pull from his grasp.

In the past, if I were feeling this kind of agony, I would run
to
a piano room, not away from it. But Kyle is here. And I can’t be near him any longer.

I try to be polite and wave, but I can’t even look at him, see if he noticed. If I don’t get away I’m going to pass out, and I can’t do that in front of Kyle. I’ve done plenty to embarrass myself in front of him already.

As I climb the steps I realize I forgot my music. 

17

Maddie

Embarrass Myself Again

In my back pocket is my cell. I pull it out and dial a number I know by heart.

A woman answers. Her name is Carrie. “Miss Abigail
Brevins' office.”

“Hi Carrie. It’s me. Maddie. Martin,” I finish, just to clarify. It suddenly dawns on me I have no idea how many people Abigail sees. People, like me, who can’t deal with the life they were dealt.

“Oh, hi Maddie. Did you want to make an appointment? We haven’t seen you in a while. How’s college?” Carrie’s voice is mellow, full of comfort. The perfect voice for someone with her job description, and she really is sweet. Interested in what’s going on with me. Right now it’s grating on my last nerve.

“This is an emergency.” I plop down on a bench and place my head between my knees. Spots are floating across my vision. “Please. I. Really. Need. To.” My breathing is coming in gasps. I can’t seem to get enough air. It’s a panic attack. I haven’t had one in a very long time, not since I started getting tattoos. All it took was for Kyle to mention his father. Talk about him like he’s a kind person, a caring parent. It’s ripping my guts out. Tearing my heart into little pieces.

It isn’t fair Kyle gets to have a dad. It isn’t right he gets to talk to his dad about college, and a major.

More spots. I’m going to faint. Embarrass myself again and pass out.

“Hang on, Maddie,” Carrie coos, extra gentle. She puts me on hold. Irritating music pummels my ears.

Seconds later, Abigail is on the phone.
“Hi Maddie. How’s it going?”

Just hearing her voice calms me a little. I try to take a deep breath. “I’m freaking out,” I
say.

“Deep breath. Go on. I’ll wait.”

I suck in a breath, allowing the cool air to fill my lungs. The sun in setting. I focus on the orange, purples, and pinks in the sky. I take another breath.

“Feeling better?”

“A little,” I say.

“Good. Now tell me what set you off.”

I take another cleansing breath and dive in. “My music professor asked me to play a duet for the Winter Gala. Doing so guaranteed me another full ride next year. I agreed right away. Today I met my duet partner.” I pause. My heart is racing. Even at the thought of saying his name.

“And, how did it go?” Abigail encourages.

“At first. Okay,” I say honestly. “But then it got messy. Really messy. And I’m hurting. So, so bad.” I wrap an arm around my waist and pull my knees to my chest. I try to be as small as possible because the smaller I am, the less it’ll hurt.

“What happened? Why did the pain start?” Abigail soothingly asks.

“It’s Kyle,” I say softly, trying not to let the words touch my body, inflict any more damage. “He’s supposed to play the duet with me.”

I
hear her suck in a breath. “Awwwww, well you thought you might see him. You were conflicted about it.”

“Yes,” I nod into the phone. “I-I
keep going back and forth. It’s easy to talk to him, to be around him, until I remember who his father is. Then I lose it.”

“I see. What specifically set you off?”

At the memory of Kyle at the piano, talking about his dad like he was discussing the weather, my heart buckles. “He mentioned his dad.”

“What did he say?”

I stand, no longer able to sit still. “He said his dad wanted him to major in business.” Tears well up. They won’t stop and my eyes become blurry, the yellowing landscape glassy.

“Why did that upset you?”

I ground my teeth together. I don’t want to say the words she wants to hear. But I’ve learned from experience she’ll spin the questions until I tell her exactly what’s bothering me. “Because.” My voice cracks, and I stop.

“Because,” she coaxes.

“Kyle’s father is still walking around. Living. Breathing. Having conversations with his kid while my parents are dead. Gone. And it’s all his father’s fault!” I shout the last part into the phone. A couple holding hands moves off the sidewalk, giving me some much needed space. I feel myself losing it with each rise and fall of m
y chest. A frantic fear is mounting. I don’t know how to reel it in. The anguish spreads like a wildfire through my body. It needs to stop, disappear. 

“I get that, Maddie. I do. And you have every right to feel the way you do.”

Her words do little to comfort me. “I-it hurts so much.” I fall to my knees. The phone tumbles from my hands, and I don’t care. I barely notice. I’m being eaten alive. The grief gets bigger and bigger, so overpowering I barely notice I’ve been lifted into a set of strong arms. Carried. And I hope wherever I’m being taken will make the pain stop.

My world crashes, my heart shatters. I am nothing.

Kyle

As Maddie collapses to her knees, I begin to run. Panic shoots through my heart. And I realize I can’t lose her. I won’t.

She drops her phone. “Maddie.” I
slide next to her, lift her head onto my thighs. “Maddie. Maddie, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I can’t. It hurts too much.”
Her words come out soft. I have to lean down to catch what she’s saying.

“What hurts? Where?”

“My heart. It’s—I’m ruined.”

“No. No, you’re going to be fine. I’m here.”

There’s a noise coming from her phone, and I pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hello? Who is this?
Put Maddie back on the phone,” a woman shouts.

“Uh, this is Kyle. Hadley. Who is this?”

There’s a sigh. “This is Abigail Brevins. I’m Maddie’s doctor.”

“Doctor
? Is she sick?”

“Kind of.” She s
ighs again. “I’m her therapist.”

“Oh.” What more can I say?

“Is Maddie alright? Can she talk?”

“She’s, uh, fainted. I think. Her eyes are closed.” I know I sound like a
complete putz, but I need Abigail to tell me what to do because I’m freaking out.

“Check her pulse.”

I do. It’s thumping steadily. “I feel it.”

“Good. She’s fine. Just take her someplace safe. Let her rest.”

“Okay.”

“If I may be so bold…” she trails off, and I gather she’s waiting for me to agree.

“Sure. Say what you want to say.”

“You and Maddie have unfinished business.
She doesn’t know your father died. Her aunt and uncle kept her way too in the dark. Work it out.”

“I-Really?” I feel the shock on my face.
What’s her point? So my father died. Does she think I’ll be more sympathetic?

“If you care at all for her, you’ll really talk to her. Got it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I respond. But I seriously have no damn idea what she means. Unless it has to do with our seven year separation. But that had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Maddie. I tried many, many times to talk to her, and she never responded.

“
Good-bye, Kyle Hadley.” I swear I hear her smile. “I think you’ll be good for her.”

“Thanks
. Bye.” I hang up and tuck Maddie’s phone in my pocket. Then pick her up and spin in a circle.

“Need some help, man?” some guy asks.
I notice a group of students have gathered and are talking quietly.

“Nah, I’m good.” I start walking
to my Jeep. “I’m taking her home,” I say to no one in particular.

18

Maddie

Like a Date

The smell of buttered toast infiltrates my oblivion. I roll over, groggy. Rub my eyes. Clear my throat. It’s parched, like I haven’t had water in a very long time. My eyes blink open and reality sets in. I’m not in my room. This comforter isn’t mine. This bed isn’t mine, and I lift the light blue comforter
. There’s a t-shirt wrapped around my waist. It’s not mine.

“What the hell?” I sit up and search the room. The bedroom is small.
Only a bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers. There’s a bathroom to the left of a doorway, which is wide open. Something about the room is familiar. I realize with a frightened start that the room is Kyle’s. I was here a few nights ago, saw it briefly before he escorted me out.

Last I remember
I was talking to Abigail on the phone.

I’m not sure what to do. Alert Kyle I’m awake. Say nothing.
Run from his apartment like a maniac.

Where are my clothes?
I immediately notice them folded and sitting on top of his dresser. I’ve just about decided to climb out from beneath the covers when Kyle turns the corner carrying a plate and a glass of something. As soon as he sees me his face lights up.

“You’re awake,” he says
, walking into his room. He’s in faded jeans and nothing else. The button is undone, like he quickly pulled them on. They are sitting low. So low, I can see his hipbones, and a little patch of hair leading down to… places I’ve never been. His hair is perfectly messy. His eyes are dancing with mischief. “Are you hungry?”

I am, in fact, starved
. But I can’t tell him that. I seem to have lost the capacity to speak.

“
There’s blueberries. You used to love blueberries.” He sits beside me, flashing the contents of the plate, which consists of blueberries, cantaloupe, and toast. His features soften. “Feeling better?”

“I-uh, how long have I been here?” My words catch on my scratchy throat.

He hands me orange juice and I take a drink. It tastes so good I can’t help but drink it all. I try to focus on his face, but his oh-so-almost-naked body is in view, begging to be noticed. There isn’t an ounce of fat anywhere. It’s almost disgusting how beautiful he is.

He offers me the plate and I take it. Buttered toast is my favorite food on the planet. There’s something about the smell of toast and sweet cream butter combined. The taste when the crispiness of the bread and melted butter hit my
tongue. But my stomach is sick, and fettered, and twisted up in so many knots I doubt I’ll ever be able to unravel them all.

“At least take a bite,” he pleads kindly
, lifting a berry to my lips.

I open my mouth, and he
plops it inside. The juice explodes between my teeth when I bite down. “Mmmmm.” I smile, encouraged. He picks up another, and we repeat the process until they’re gone.