“What is this?” I grumble, looking between their too-innocent expressions. “An intervention?”
“Pretty much,” Finn says, pulling out his cellphone. “There’s something you need to hear.”
Vaughn nods in agreement, and I resist the urge—barely—to knock them both over the head with the toolbox. Still, they’re my best friends, and they’re right about me being shitty company the past week.
Jenny leaving was the best thing, at least in the long haul. The inevitable thing. I know that. But somehow it’s so much shittier than I ever imagined. I don’t eat. Don’t sleep.
I can’t listen to the radio because it reminds me of her, can’t read because it reminds me that the last time I tried to read a book she burst out of the closet and tied me to the bed.
I can’t even watch TV, because the girl’s everywhere. They just announced that she’d be singing at the Super Bowl halftime show next year, for God’s sake. Now the girl is even ruining football.
I wait impatiently for Finn to do whatever he’s doing on his phone, and I’m a little surprised when he starts playing the opening notes of a quiet song.
“You’ve heard this?” Finn asks me, giving a quick glance at Vaughn. Never a good sign.
“No, why?” I say.
Then I know.
“Turn it off,” I say, the second I hear her voice.
I try to move around them, but Finn’s hand finds the center of my chest, shoving me back, his face angry. “For fuck’s sake, man, just listen.”
I do, because apparently it’s the only way to get out of this damned room, out of this house, but I try to shut myself off. From the sound of her voice, the strum of her guitar, and the memory of the way she looked when she played, when she sang.
But as we’ve established, I’m physically incapable of blocking out Jenny Dawson. The song seems to seep into my very bones before she even gets to the chorus.
I frown, realizing it’s a song I haven’t heard before, even though I thought I’d heard all of her new album.
“Start it again,” I say, needing to hear it from the beginning.
He complies, and it hits me why this song is so different. It’s sad. Haunting. Her other songs wavered between romantic and flirtatious, angry and sassy. But never sad.
And this one…
This one feels like Jenny’s heart.
You tell me I can’t stay, that we’re better off this way…
I bend, setting the toolbox on the floor.
I’d’ve made a place for you, if just you’d asked me to…
I cross my arms, trying to block it out. The song. Her. But I can’t. The lyrics keep coming, and it’s like a barrage. As though that damn beautiful voice is reaching through Finn’s fucking phone and trying to kill me.
I didn’t need a ring. I’d’ve been happy with the swing…
“I don’t get that part,” Finn whispers. “Sounds kinky, though.”
Vaughn shoves his shoulder.
“Turn it off,” I say gruffly.
“You just told me to restart it.”
“Off!”
Neither friend complies, and my chest feels tight. I reach out to swipe the phone out of Finn’s hand, but he pulls it out of reach, though not before I catch the last bit of lyrics.