Can't sleep.
Two weeks now.
Gaping hole in my chest shows no signs of recovery.
That word, a joke, you laugh.
"Running away again, kid?"
A minute here
and then you're gone.
His pain swirls around me, mixing with mine. It's a roller coaster. The only thing I can do is hold on and try to survive the ride.
I pry my eyelids apart. I can't place the expression on his face. But I know what the song means. I know it means he hurts. And I hurt. But together, we hurt a little less.
Or do I have that all wrong?
His voice cuts clear across the room. "Would you like to hear something off the new album?"
The crowd cheers. Every girl in this club is screaming with glee, including Kara, who's at an ear-bursting volume. I'm sure twenty pairs of panties drop, but who am I to judge?
"It's called No Way in Hell. About someone very special." His eyes are on me.
Drew strums his guitar. The song starts. It's something fast and hard, and there's a desperation to the music.
Miles's voice fills the room.
Three a.m. and I can't sleep.
A common refrain, I know.
As a sentiment, it's cheap.
Someone to call, to hold,
to love. No way that word—
She smiles and I drift away—
Oh hell no.
This can't be.
No way I, no way she.
Anyone else, maybe,
but not me.
I don't do this kind of thing.
There's no doubt about it. He's singing about me. It's not like before. This song is about me. And he's singing it to me. I close my eyes, willing my ears to shut, willing my lungs to breathe, willing my heart to steady.
Morning now and I can't think
of anything but her laugh, her cries