A Five-Minute Life

“A little,” I said. Fuck.

“You sing and you play rock music on the guitar. Good grief, Jimmy. You have to know how hot that is, right?”

I coughed. “N-N-No…”

She cocked her head, her expression softening. “Am I making you nervous?”

Inhale. Exhale. Hell, I told her before.

“I have a stutter. It was worse when I was younger. A teacher told me singing can help.”

Thea nodded, then her smile returned. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

I stared. I hadn’t sung in front of anyone. Ever.

“No one’s around for miles,” she said. “And it’s so quiet. Please? Just a little sample?”

“I don’t have my guitar.”

“A cappella works for me,” she said.

My stomach tightened and my palms got sweaty. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I’m sure.”

Thea flinched and looked away. I cursed myself, aware of the sheer volume of trust Thea had to place in everyone around her—whether she knew it or not. Except for Delia, everyone in Thea’s life was a stranger.

“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t m-m-mean to bite your head off.”

“No, it’s my bad. Delia’s always telling me I’m pushy as hell. Guess she’s right.” She slugged my arm half-heartedly. “You’re off the hook. I just feel like…”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s so quiet, you know? Not just out here.” She gestured at the grounds. “But all the time. Always. I know that doesn’t make sense. Not even to me…”

Just fucking sing for her. Make her happy. Her reset is coming. She won’t remember.

The ache in my chest tightened like a hand squeezing. I dreaded singing out loud, but I dreaded the reset more. How it would tear down everything we built. Another introduction. Another request to call me Jimmy. But in these few minutes, she’d have what she wanted. A change from her endless cycles of sameness.

It wasn’t about me anyway. If she really was aware of her situation, deep down, the very fucking least I could do for her was anything she wanted.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll sing.”

“Really?” Thea’s face lit up. “Score. I am so ready.”

“Let’s walk. I can’t do it with you staring at me.”

We began to walk. Years of taunting and bullying nearly changed my mind, but before I could think about it for another second, I began to sing “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” low and rough. A slowed-down a cappella rendering of the rock song as we walked the silent grounds.

I sang of a woman’s blue eyes that thought of rain, her smile, and the beauty of her face that could make me cry if I stared too long. I lost myself in the words, inhibitions falling away with every syllable because I was singing to Thea. I was singing about Thea and it was the easiest thing in the world…

“

Are you kidding me?” Her hand clutched my arm, cutting me off.

Shit. Here it is. The reset.