My thoughts are still eating me alive as I ride in the back of the cab to the airport. Since I waited until last minute, the best flight deal was out of a regional one just outside the city. I thought about going to get my car so I could have the drive to myself, but paying for parking just to drive a half hour would have been stupid.
I lean my head against the window and shove my ear buds in, trying to drown out the cabbie’s shitty mainstream music. The city fades away as I stare beyond the glass and a slow indie song fills my ears. I try not to, but the lyrics make me think of Paisley.
Goddamnit.
I shove my fist into the back of the passenger seat and the cabbie jumps, cursing and eying me in the rearview. I mumble an apology and rip the ear buds from my ears, throwing them back in my bag. Funny, music has always been what brought sense to my life. It’s been there through the times I fell for a girl, the times I lost someone I loved, the times I just wanted to rage out and punch the shit out of a wall, and every single time in-between. But now, it’s like I repel it. I don’t want to listen to music anymore.
But why?
And then it hits me. Not like a stiff breeze or a gentle wave, but like a crash course at seventy miles per hour. It’s like every piece that has been floating around aimlessly just came flying into place right in front of me.
What the fuck am I doing?
Music isn’t the same, will never be the same, if I’m not with Kellee.
“Can you stop the car?”
Cabbie looks up at me, still frowning. “We’re almost to the bridge, man. I can’t just pull over.”
“Just stop the car,” I say again, fishing for my phone.
“I just told you –”
“Goddamnit, stop the fucking car!”
He curses under his breath and swerves over two lanes before flicking on his hazards, the cab pressed as closely to the right shoulder as possible. I open my door and hit the call button before I have the chance to try to make sense of what I’m doing.
“Please don’t tell me the plane has been delayed, because if you do I might have to use this cookie cutter to inflict harm on a pilot and I can’t be held responsible for something like that,” Paisley answers. My hands shake a little before I find the strength to speak.
“Paisley, I’m not coming.”
The line is silent for a moment as cars whiz past, rocking the cab in their wake. I swallow the thick lump forming in my throat and stare out at the silhouette of the city as I wait for her to speak.
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
I sigh, pacing the bridge as I drag my fingers through my hair. “I have to let you go, Paisley,” my words shake a little more than I want them to as they break free from my lips, but I’ve never been more positive of a statement in my life. Well, other than the one that leaves my lips next, “I love her. And if I fly to Orlando today, I’m going to lose her. For good.” I know the words are truer than I want them to be. “Forever.”
“Well,” she pauses, sending my heart into my throat. I don’t want to lose her friendship, but right now I would give up almost anything for Kellee. The pause lingers between us, and I know I could lose her right here. I could lose my best friend in the world in this very fucking moment. I swallow hard, still waiting.
“It’s about damn time.”
I stop pacing, “What?” The cab driver yells something over the roar of the traffic but I hold up a finger for him to wait. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” She scoffs, as if it’s the most ludicrous thing she’s ever heard. “Are you kidding me? Tanner, I saw that you loved that girl the minute she walked into The Box with you. If you want the honest truth, your mom just called me and told me what’s going on and I was literally ten minutes away from calling and ripping into your ass. I wanted to give you the chance to prove me wrong before I made the call because I knew there was no way the guy I call my best friend is that much of an idiot that he would walk out on the perfect girl for him just to fly to some stupid bakery opening.”
“It’s not stupid, Paisley,” I interrupt. “I’m so fucking proud of you and I’m your best friend. You’re opening your own business. I want to be there to help you celebrate – hell, I should be there. But if I leave –”
“Blah blah blah,” she says, and it catches me off guard and kind of makes me smile a little. “Whatever. Like this bakery isn’t going to still be here in a few weeks or whenever you can get down here. Both of you. Unless,” she pauses again. “Are you trying to say you think my bakery is going to fail, asshole?”
I give in and laugh a little, but it feels strange and forced. “Nothing you ever do fails.”
Now it’s her turn to laugh, “Okay, the city fumes must be getting to you because you know better than anyone that statement could not be farther from the truth.”
I move to the cab and drop down into the backseat, my legs still hanging out and my head falling into the arm propped up on my knee. The words are out now. Paisley knows I’m not going anymore, the cab is stopped, my mind is made up – but for some reason I still feel like I need something. There’s something missing that I need before I can hang up this phone. “I don’t know how I got myself into this mess. Do I have the Royal Fuck Up Gene or something?” I ask, sighing.
Paisley laughs softly, “Well shit, if you’ve got it then so do I. Listen to me, Tanner. You’re right. You do have to let me go.”
My heart moves from my throat into my head, pounding away so hard I have to reach for the cab door to steady myself. I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry, my arms shaking a little. “I know that now,” I say softly, pausing. “But Paisley, you have to let me go, too.”
Now it’s her that pauses, “What? What are you talking about?”
I curse under my breath, frustrated that what I’m about to say is true. “You have a hold on me, Paisley. You’ve had it since the day I met you. I can’t shake you, I can’t get over you, I can’t move on with the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life until you let me go, too. You have to tell me. Tell me to move on. Tell me something, anything, to make me stop feeling for you like this.”
She laughs, which surprises me. I’m trying to have a deep moment here. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “Tanner, we love each other. We always have and we always will. But I don’t have a hold on you. You have a hold on you.”
Yeah. I’m lost.
“Do you remember when we made up after the fight last year? When you told me why you said what you did to Corbin?”
I nod, “Yeah.”
“Well,” she continues. “You told me that night that you have always thought of me as the perfect girl to fit in all your songs. And I know what a big deal that is to you because music is the most important thing in your life other than your family and your career. But you know what? You’re wrong. I’m not the perfect girl in the song you’ve been chasing all these years.”
I shake my head, ready to rebut with the ample proof I had the other night but she doesn’t let me get a word in.
“I used to be that girl, Tanner. I was the girl in all your old songs, the girl in your past. But I’m not the one for you, and you and I both know that. You knew it when you met Kellee, you knew it when you fell in love with her, and you definitely know it now that you’ve made this call to tell me you’re not coming today. Your focus has shifted, Tanner. She’s that girl now. In fact,” she continues. “If Corbin came in right now and broke up with me, we still wouldn’t be together. Why? Because even though we love each other, we aren’t meant to be together like that. You’re my best friend and I’m yours, and we hold a special part in each other’s heart that no one could ever replace. But just like I know without a doubt that I’m meant to be with Corbin, you know you feel the same about Kellee.”
She pauses and I drink in her words, the pieces still flying into place all around me. It’s like everything is clicking even more with the words coming through the receiver. Even though she’s right and I did already know everything she just said, it’s like something about hearing her say it makes it hit me harder. It makes it true. It makes it real.
“Kellee is your perfect girl, Tanner. And you’re going to lose her if you don’t wise up to that right now,” Paisley adds, stating the absolute truth I’ve known for so long now. But still, those damn lyrics won’t leave me the fuck alone.
I slam my fist against the side of the cab and the driver yells out at me. I apologize again and stand up, pacing along the side of the road. “I love her, Paisley. I fucking love Kellee.”
“I know.”
“But I’ve always seen you as my perfect song,” I sigh, desperate to make her understand. “I don’t know how to not see you that way.”
She’s quiet for a moment, the only sound the cars whipping by, but then finally she speaks again. “Maybe the key to all this isn’t fitting her into the songs you already have, Tanner,” she says. “Maybe the key to finding the perfect song is simply rewriting the lyrics.”
My shoulders deflate as her words wash over me. She’s right. Completely, without a doubt, one-hundred percent right. “What do I do, Paisley?”
She laughs a little, “You get your ass back in that car and get to her as fast as you can. And once you get your arms around her, hold tight. And don’t ever let go.”
My hands are shaking as I pull back the phone to look at the time. If I hurry, I might be able to get to her before she leaves for the concert. If she hasn’t already asked someone else, maybe I can still take her. I want that first more than anything.
“I fucking love you, Paisley. Seriously. And I am so fucking proud of you for opening your own bakery. You’re going to be amazing.”
Paisley laughs, “I love you too, nerd. And thank you. Now stop wasting time. Go!”
I end the call and jump back in the cab, giving the driver the new address. He pulls an illegal u-turn and we’re flying back toward the city as if he senses my urgency. As we near the city, I think of Paisley’s words and rewriting my song with Kellee. I want something more than an apology to give Kellee, something she can hold in her hands and know without a doubt that she’s the only girl I want. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.
I tap the driver on the shoulder and he looks up in the rearview.
“Before we get there, I need you to make one more stop.”
The cab pulls up to Kellee’s an hour later and I bound up the stairs, my heart pounding too much to wait for the elevator. I bang hard on the door, trying to not look like a sweaty fucking mess as I wait for her to answer but not really caring, either. I just want to see her, want to talk to her.
To my disappointment, Trista opens the door. She must detect the fall in my face because she says, “Sorry I’m not 5’5 with blonde hair and freckles.”
“Where is she?”
Trista shrugs, moving back into the apartment and letting me in. “No idea. We were going to go to the concert together but she bailed last minute. I came out and found that note,” she points to the counter where the Loner Boys tickets sit and I pick it up, reading quickly.
“She was going to go?”
Trista crosses her arms, “Apparently she can’t go. Not without you.” She looks sort of pissed off at me and I guess I can’t blame her, but her words make my heart jump a bit. Maybe I still have a chance.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the tickets and rushing back out the door. I have no idea where she is, but I’ll search every inch of this city until I find her.