Vivid Lies (17 page)

Well, maybe I don't notice since London is the considerate one.
 

It takes a while to find something to wear and to do my hair. The apartment is a disaster. This is so unlike London that I start to worry. I know I take advantage of my sister. It became the way we operate so long ago. She never complained, but now I sense a shift in her mood.
 

Resentment? Anger? Tough love? Did Miles piss her off again?

I try to call Miles but he doesn't answer. I realize it's the weekend and he's probably playing at the Sand Bar. I need to eat and I need someone to talk to. Miles can fix anything.
 

The cab drops me off as Miles and the band start their set. He looks so natural and at ease up there on the stage. He looks like he belongs here when I feel like an outsider everywhere I go. His eyes are closed as he strums the guitar and sings into the microphone.
 

"London!" a blonde little pixie yells as she bolts toward me.
 

"Brooklyn," I correct her, trying to smile so I don't come off rude. I didn't realize London made friends here already.

"Oh shit," she says with wide eyes. "She wasn't kidding."

"She rarely does."

"Well, I'm Leslie. My boyfriend is Braxton, on the drums." She points to the band and I spot the massive man banging on the drums. I cock my head sideways trying to imagine them together. She's so tiny. How does he fit?

Leslie wastes no time in pulling me to the stage like we were best friends. Back home, Miles played in a lot of the local bars. They were usually all the same. Filled with college kids or old men, drinking and having a good time with music in the background. Here, the people watch them play. They are here for the music.
 

I smile up at Miles as he glances down and sees me. He winks at me and goes back to being the rock star that he looks like under the lights. I still see the little boy next door that we fell in love with, deep down, just hiding under some very grown-up looks.
 

Leslie cheers next to me like a fan-girl. I would have to guess she's been to every show since everyone seems to know her and she knows every word. Yet she acts like she's never seen them live before. I feel stupid next to her while I'm quietly observant, so I detangle from her and sneak to the back of the room. After grabbing a drink, I find an empty table in a corner to watch.
 

The band moves into the next song without pause. The room goes quiet as only Miles strums his guitar. The melody is dark and haunting, unlike anything I ever heard him do. Slowly, the rest of the band joins him. The energy in the room is buzzing even with the slow song. It's like they sense something coming that I don't.
 

Miles's deep voice fills the room. It's soft and low, aching sounding. He looks like he's in pain as the first few words roll of his tongue. My heart is in my throat and I feel the air shifting around me.
 

He sings of fire and smoke. It clouds him, keeping him captive and bound. He loves so deeply, so hard but it's burning in the flames.
 

My skin heats and I don't dare to breathe for fear that I would miss a single word. Miles keeps his eyes tightly closed as he sings about trying to get through the flames. He can't save her. He can't find her.
 

It's heartbreaking and crushing. I hurt because he hurts. His lyrics are about a love so strong it doesn't turn to ash. He carries it, and it haunts him. It's tugging at the heart that I thought was frozen cold. His fire is warming it so it's pounding loudly in my chest.
 

For the first time, I wish someone cared for me like that. I wished I was on the other end of this love that can't be burned down. I wonder if these are Miles' feelings and if so, for whom?
 

The song ends on a powerful and drawn-out note. I wipe my face discreetly and take a drink, hoping no one noticed my reaction. I'm not even sure how to respond, as I've never felt a heartbreak like that before. Especially not from words alone. I don't notice my single tear until it falls on my lips and I taste the saltiness.
 

When I look back up, the stage is empty. The massive drummer has tiny Leslie in his arms. I was right, she is swallowed by him. I see a movement out of the corner of my eye and look over just in time to see Miles coming for me.
 

I try to smile but his face is unreadable as he clears the distance between us. I want to ask him if he wrote that song and where the emotion behind it came from. But I never have the chance because Miles grabs my face and pulls me to his lips, stealing any words I had on the tip of my tongue.
 

His lips crush mine, hard but gentle. I inhale the familiar smell of him as his fingers push into my hair. He pulls me closer as he pushes me deeper into the secluded corner. I gasp around his kiss but he doesn't stop. His mouth is like fire on mine. It's melting me into him.
 

Miles moves between my knees and I wobble on my stool. He holds me tightly, never letting me fall over. His tongue slips past my lips, sweetly tasting and exploring. If feel in every inch of my body more than any other touch before. He's everywhere and everything in this stolen moment.
 

When his hand glides to my lower back and flattens my chest to his, I moan into his mouth. I tug at his shirt, trying to get him closer even though it's impossible. I feel his heart beating against mine. It's just as fast and strong as my own.
 

Thoughts and emotions battle inside me. I wish I could shut them off like every other time, but I can't. I want more of this, and the panic that comes with feeling anything is bubbling underneath it all.
 

I pull away, gasping much needed air. Miles runs his lips down my exposed neck and over my collarbone. He's breathing hard when he rests his forehead on my shoulder. I'm practically panting, too, my hands shaking.
 

So many questions are screaming to be heard in my head. What is behind the song? Why did he kiss me?

Does he think I'm London?

My heart aches and I swallow down the question. His hands are softly caressing my arms, trying to tame my trembling. His lips are ghosting over my skin. His warm breath is tickling my face.
 

It's a softness and care that I've never experienced. Only because I never allowed it. Never wanted it.
 

But this moment, I don't want it to end. I don't want to know if he's kissing the wrong girl. I don't want to think he's in love with me.
 

I just want this moment.
 

"I'm glad you came," he whispers in my ear.
 

"Seems like it."

He laughs easily and I smile at the Miles I know coming back to me. It's a strange but intoxicating mixture of the old friend and new interest.
 

"You like the show?"

"Loved it." It was the truth.
 

Miles pulls back and searches my face. I can feel him digging, exploring, wanting. I am too raw to hide, to fake anything. It's terrifying and amazing at the same time. Like I'm on fire, but loving the heat.

"Glad I could make your first show a good one," he finally says.
 

My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat, as cliche as that is. He knows exactly who I am. He was not mistaking me for London. I don't know if I like that or if it scares me.
 

"It was always you, Brooklyn. Always will be," he says in my ear.
 

Miles leaves me there, gaping at his retreating back. His words replay in my mind until I feel them sink into my bones. I feel them everywhere.
 

As the band starts back from their break, I sneak out and head home in a fog. I know this isn't surprising. Miles knows me well enough to know that I will need some space, which is exactly why he left me there after kissing me senseless and shoving heat into my icebox of a heart.
 

I expect he will find me soon. He will force me to listen and talk to him. But for now I need to escape everything swelling in my heart and head.
 

London

I've never hidden anything from my sister before. She's my best friend and the only person I fully trust. I can trust her never to judge me and to take my secrets to the grave.
 

But I haven't told her about the kiss with Kane. Every time I think about telling her, I stop myself. I'm not sure if it's because it's not just my secret to share, or if it's because I don't really want to share it yet. Once I voice it, it's real. It's out there for us to discuss and talk about. I'm not ready for that.
 

I don't even know what to tell her. Kane kissed me and even though I'm pretty sure he thought I was Brooklyn, I don't think he was that upset to learn he was mistaken. If I let him, he would have tried to kiss me again. I'm not sure what that means for me.

That is what keeps me up at night, staring at my ceiling. I always feel exhausted, yet I never can sleep. Tonight is no different while a billion questions run through my mind.
 

Why didn't I make him stop? What if I had let him stay? I made him leave because that was the right thing to do. I'm really sick of always doing the right thing. I'm sick of being London. I don't want to be the responsible one with the level head. I don't want to always make the right choices.
 

My phone vibrates on the night stand and the screen lights up my room. I roll over to see Kane's name. Without thought, I hit the answer button.
 

"London?" he says when I fail to say anything.
 

"Hey."

"Can I see you?" he asks. His voice is low, like he's telling me a secret.
 

"It's after midnight."

"I know."

"You can't come here. Can we go somewhere?"

"I'll take you anywhere you want." His voice is full of promise and it gives me a chill down my spine.

"Meet me in the garage."

I hang up and change into jeans and a hoodie quietly with shaking hands. A nervous energy that I'm not used to is coursing through my body. My stomach is in knots from excitement. Or is it fear? I tiptoe down the hall, careful not to wake Brooklyn. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.
 

I am sneaking out of my own apartment in the middle of the night. I feel like a teenager, but I never did this when I was young. Brooklyn was the one crawling out of our second floor window to go to a party or to see a boy. I hid in bed and prayed our dad wouldn't come in to find her gone. He never cared enough to actually check.
 

My footsteps echo in the empty garage. The streets are quiet and I feel like I'm the only person awake. Awake with Kane. He's leaning against his car, waiting for me, and my stomach flutters with nerves. It's not like me to sneak out to meet guys in the middle of the night. I have no idea where the courage to do it now is coming from, but I'll take what I can.

"Where to?" he asks when I approach, opening the door for me.
 

Once Kane is behind the wheel, I start to give him directions. Other than my vague directions, we don't speak. My hands are clammy and my heart is pounding so loudly, I wonder if he can hear it. If he can, he doesn't mention it but follows my directions.
 

"Stop here," I tell him.

"Here? There's nothing here."

"Pull over right here."

Kane pulls off to the side of the road where I point. There's nothing around but open road and the guardrail on the side. A lonely speed limit sign is the only marker.

This is my spot. Lately, the need to have something that is my own has been eating me alive. I never had anything of my own. If it's in the apartment, it's ours. At times, it seems Brooklyn can read my emotions and my thoughts, so even those aren't mine.
 

This place is all mine because she doesn't know about it. Just a lonely stretch of the interstate leading away from the city. She would never want it. She wouldn't see the significance in something so simple. It's special because it's my secret. And now I'm letting Kane in.
 

I get out of his car and I hear Kane following. The night air is humid, and I feel the heat still coming off the blacktop from the summer day. The stars are bright above and the moon is the only light I have out here. Far away from the city, it's dark and quiet. It's perfect.
 

I stop in the middle of the road, right on the dotted line. After looking both ways, I lie down in the middle of the road. I spread my arms and legs, and look up at the sky. I listen to the wind and crickets in the night. Most of all, I listen for the sound of an approaching car.
 

"London, get up," Kane says. "You can't lie down in the middle of the road."
 

"Why not? Do you see a car?"

Kane looks both ways twice before looking back at me in disbelief.