In the Lyrics (17 page)

BRITTANI IS LIKE the Evil Queen and Lord Voldemort all wrapped into one, except instead of a magic mirror or just magic in general, she has the power of bitchiness. Trust me, it’s more of a curse, but I’m sure she deems otherwise. Honestly, I didn’t even know someone could be so cruel to others, and it doesn’t matter who you are. If you’re not in her inner circle, she is a furious bitch. Thinking she would ever change would be like wishing for pigs to fly. Face it – it’s never going to happen.

I, on the other hand, am like a mix between Snow White and Harry Potter. She’s my arch-nemesis in every way, shape, and form. It’s been that way since we were kids – since my stupid father made the biggest mistake of his life, which in return caused a royal kink in mine.

We were nine, and we were best friends, more like sisters. Our parents weren’t that close, but they made sure to do barbecues and little get-togethers occasionally so we could hang out more. I remember she even had a My Little Pony toothbrush at my house.

My mom has always resented the fact that she got knocked up when she was in college. She’s resented him, my dad, for their irresponsibility. Because if they never had me, she’d probably have her face plastered on some billboard in Times Square as we speak. She’s more than good; her voice is perfection. The pitch and tone that comes naturally to her is something artists strive for every day. Her dream was crushed because I was born. Living with that, harboring those feelings without an outlet, wasn’t a good idea. My parents fought a lot when I was younger, and one day I guess my dad couldn’t handle it anymore. He found his solace in Brittani’s mom.

Their affair went on for about six months, until one day Brittani caught them. She tattled what she saw to her father, and since then, she’s hated me. Holding a grudge the size of Mt. Rushmore for something I had no control over, I swear she made a pact with herself to make my life a living hell. And she did for a while – until Dusty moved to town. At first she would tease him too. I mean, even when we were younger you could tell he was different, a little gentler than the other boys on the playground. We made the perfect pair. Our little outcast group was founded, and since then, we’ve been inseparable. Bound by something awful, our friendship blossomed, and I can honestly say I am thankful for her deserting me. If she never pushed me out of her life, I’m scared to say I might be just like her. Could you imagine that? I sure as hell can’t. Just the thought makes me want to hurl.

My mom ended up taking my dad back. She couldn’t raise me alone, being a single parent with no prior work history. Both of her parents were already dead and Dad made the money, which she needed for food and rent. It was either forgive him for his faults, or…I don’t even want to think about the alternative. I was too young to know better, or really grasp what was going on. As I grew, they fell back in love and Mom acted like it never happened. She went back to college and got her nursing degree. Looking back, I wonder if she only went back to school so she wouldn’t have to rely on him anymore, but it’s like she just blocked out what happened. I wish it were that easy for me too. Instead I was reminded in the hallways nearly every day. Even at our high school graduation Brittani made sure to rub it in my face. So I’d be damned if she was about to out me in front of Colby. I mean, honestly I don’t care if he knows, and eventually I plan on telling him. It’s more the fact that she’s willing to go to that extreme just to embarrass me.

Evil bitch.

FRIDAY NIGHTS HAVE become my favorite time of the week. Thankfully the three of us were scheduled off work so we could play at a little bar in downtown Nashville. We’ve been practicing a lot so when a dude I met in my agriculture class said his uncle owned a bar, we were pumped to get an opportunity to play together. He told him about us, and he called the next day and invited us to play a few sets that following Friday. Leaving out the part that none of us were twenty-one yet, we didn’t get carded because we were the entertainment.

“Hey, is Mitch here?” I ask the bartender as Hensley and Dusty stand behind me holding their equipment.

“He sure is, sugar. And can I ask what you need to see him for?” she asks with an inviting smile. Taking a peek at Hensley, I can see her glower in my direction. Let’s just say she is a little jealous.

“We’re here to play.”

“Ohmigod,” she squeaks in a full sentence without taking a breath. “I didn’t realize. Y’all follow me to the green room. It isn’t much, but Mitch likes to make sure everyone is comfortable. The bar is fully stocked and if there’s anything else ya need just holler and I’ll get it.” She ushers us into a small room with a loveseat, coffee table, and small dry bar in the corner. “Make yourselves comfortable.” Before she shuts the door, she says, “What did you say your name was again?” Her eyes lock with mine and I know she’s not only asking me, but also flaunting her shit around.

Realizing I never said my name, I make the introductions. “I’m Colby and this is Hensley, my girlfriend,”
just to make that clear
, “and Dusty.”

Giving a demure smile, she doesn’t bother to introduce herself. Instead she whispers, “Hmm, it’s a shame,” and then shuts the door. Before I have time to turn around Hensley is making herself a drink.

Holding her hands up in the air, she says, “What? She said it was a stocked bar. Who am I to pass up an opportunity like that?”

“Seriously?” I ask in a scolding tone. Sometimes I just want to shake her. She knows alcohol doesn’t cure anything. For two kids with fathers who like to tip back the bottle a little too much, you’d think she would see that drinking is never the solution to anything.

“I’m about to kill a bitch, so yeah, seriously.”

Dusty chimes in, “You two fight like an old married couple, and it’s only been a few months. Just think about the rest of your lives. You’re going to be miserable if you don’t nip this shit in the bud now.”

Hensley and I both burst into laughter. We know it’s all in good fun; we’re not actually bickering. Okay, we are, but it’s harmless. Hensley kicking the woman’s ass isn’t, but us mouthing off to one another is.

“What’s so funny? Oh, wait. It’s because the makeup sex is worth it, huh?” We don’t answer him. “Yup, you’re just like a married couple. I’ll leave you be for a few.” Then he turns on his heels and leaves us standing staring at the door he exited from.

The couch is coarse against my skin as I sit down and stretch my arms out along the back. My bare arms feel like they were just mauled by a bear.

“Come here, Sunshine.”

“No,” she mopes. “Just let me be mad and jealous for a minute.”

Standing up, I lean forward in the small room and grab her waist and then pull her to me. She falls onto my lap as my ass hits the cushion in one swift motion. My lips find the exposed skin on her neck, and I kiss it. Knowing it will drive her wild, I do it to try and relax her. I don’t know what’s got her wound so tight.

“Colby, stop! Your redheaded slut might come barging back in here and see you with me,” she calls out as her body stiffens in my arms.

And there lies the root of the problem. Not in a million years would I have guessed how insecure Hensley really is, but she is as doubtful as they come. I hate thinking that she questions my feelings or even loyalty to her. She’s been hurt in the past.

“Put your hands down and look at me,” I whisper into her ear. She turns her head, but her facial expression isn’t genuine. She doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, but damn if she isn’t going to listen. “You know darn well that I don’t give a rat’s ass about that bartender. Who’s sitting on my lap? Who sleeps next to me in my bed?” She doesn’t blink. “You do. Not that chick who’s flaunting her shit around like she’s Betty Boop or someone special. What do I have to do to prove to you how much you mean to me?” It’s either now or never. I love her. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been planning on telling her, but if those three simple words that are packed with so much meaning get her out of this funk – I’m going to say them.

“Do you know the first thing that I noticed about you?”

She shakes her head no.

“It was your confidence. I had just gotten to town and was going to grab a bite to eat and then call Dusty, but I saw this girl sitting on the street corner.”

“I felt like you were staring holes in my head,” she says softly.

“Truthfully, I was. Anyway, once you started to sing…it was like…ya know when your favorite song comes on the radio and you’re jammin’, listening to every word, your heads bobbin’, and you’re just feeling the music, but then your phone rings and you know it’s a call you can’t miss? There’s a split second where you debate on pressing forward to voicemail so you can finish the song, but you’ve been waiting for this call, so you turn down the radio knowing you’ll miss your favorite part just to answer it. It was like you were my favorite song, and I was forwarding my calls to voicemail. In that moment, I didn’t care who was standing around me. All I was worried about was tuning in to you, listening to your voice.”

“I love you.” Those three simple words are spoken, and much to my amazement it’s Hensley that says them first.

Clutching her face hard in my hands, I kiss her. I kiss her for being so darn dumb and insecure, for acting like a jealous girl, and more importantly, for loving me through it all. Our panting becomes louder as we fight for air, not wanting to break this moment. Pulling back, I look into my girlfriend’s eyes and say, “There is no one in this entire world I want sitting here, in my lap or beside me on stage. I love you, Hensley Elaine Bradley. Don’t ever doubt that again. Okay, Sunshine?”

She beams, “Say it again.”

“I love you. I’ll say it a hundred times a day, if that’s what will make you happy, woman.”

Leaning in, she nudges my nose with hers. “You’re what makes me happy, Colby. Just you. It’s just…you know…I have daddy issues.”

“What?” I ask knowing that I sort of know what she is talking about from what Dusty’s told me.

“Nothing…I just have trust issues, okay?”

Kissing her briefly, I reassure her there isn’t a reason not to trust me. She hasn’t come out and completely explained her trust issues yet, but I know why they’re there, and I do my best to respect her because of it. She doesn’t have anything to worry about. I’d never hurt her like her dad hurt her mom.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Dusty comes back to the green room –
more like closet
– and greets us with Mitch by his side. He’s a pretty cool fella for an older man. You can tell he lives and breathes this place. He’s invested in his business, and that makes us that much more eager to give him and his patrons a good show. This isn’t the first time the three of us have played together. We’ve been practicing for weeks in the apartment. The good part is Hensley’s almost as good on her acoustic as I am, and we were able to blend our style of bluegrass with Dusty’s modern touch.

“So what’s the name of your group?” he asks as we follow him down a narrow hallway towards the stage.

We all three freeze. We’ve never talked about it before. Making music together has all been for fun; we’ve never actually considered being a group or anything.