Pull (Seaside 2)

I hit a wall.

It was like, I couldn’t write anymore.

It was also part of the reason I didn’t feel bad that Alec was doing all our promo. We were supposed to go back on tour after my rehab stint this summer, and somehow we had to record our album in the next four months to do some tours in the fall.

It was the beginning of June, and I was still twiddling my thumbs about writing some stuff.

Before, all my songs had been about getting wasted and partying at the clubs. Then I wrote a song for Nat. It was my favorite song I’d ever written. It was a different sound than before and was going on our next album.

I wanted more songs like it, more songs that talked about important stuff, not just going to parties and living it up.

I strummed a few chords and sighed.

The view from my room was legit. I put the guitar down and pushed open the window. The sea breeze floated into the room.

Sitting back down, I grabbed my pencil and paper and strummed a few chords again.

“Good Taffy, strong taffy,” I sang, then laughed. Wow, the fans would love that one.

“Salted caramel corn makes me want to kiss her…” I crooned and snorted with disgust.

“Alyssa,” I said her name softly and then a little louder.

Something was up with that chick. Why wouldn’t she have friends? I didn’t for one second buy that crap about them all moving away. Besides, she was gorgeous. I mean, she didn’t dress the best, but still, those eyes, those lips? That face. I knew a hot girl when I saw one. At least the girl should have a boyfriend.

“Pretty girl.” I sighed, and then like it had happened thousands of times before, my fingers glided across the guitar, and I began to sing.

“You’re bad. Bad for me, bad to me, bad with me. I know it when I see your face, the way your smile tilts that way. But I can’t, can’t stop myself from staring, can’t stop myself from swearing. I’ll never be that way, with you.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.

Trust. The word falls easy from my lips. Trust me, need me, use me. You call to me. Your eyes hide secrets I want to know. Yet I keep myself from asking, afraid that the answers are too close to home.

Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you now, not after, after you heal from that pain. I’ll never be the same.”

I played it in a minor key, giving it a folksy feel. I figured if I added some electronic sound effects, it would be amazing.

I looked over the words and cringed. I’d forgotten how emotional writing was, how it seemed to reflect exactly what was on my mind and damn the consequences. The words taunted me as I put the paper down and finished the song.

I set up GarageBand and recorded it, then attached it to an email for Alec.

My phone rang five minutes later.

“Dude,” Alec said on the other end. “What was that?”

“A song?” I swallowed. Crap, I thought he would like it.

“You made Nat cry.”

“It wasn’t about her!” I argued. “I just wrote it and —”

“Chill.” Alec laughed. “She cried because it was so beautiful, and because she gets emotional when she’s proud. Right, babe?”

I heard Nat say a dirty word and laughed.

“She’s mad at me for telling you.” Alec chuckled into the phone. “Can we record that for the album?”

I thought about it for a minute. It was kind of personal, and it wasn’t even about me, but about her. But it wasn’t as if she listened to us anyway. “Sure. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Cool, now write twenty more.”

“While you do what?”

Alec laughed into the receiver and spoke in a low voice. “I think I’ll have Nat keep me occupied.”

“And this conversation is over.” I rolled my eyes. “Later, brother.”

“Bye.”

It was three in the morning before I found my bed, and also the first time in the last year that I didn’t crave something to numb my feelings.

I felt raw. Exposed. I’d forgotten how much I liked it. Liked to actually feel, as bad as it hurt. It was real, it was life. And I was finally living.

Chapter Seven

Alyssa

I ran the dishrag over the counter for the hundredth time, while trying not to look out the window at Demetri.

“I think it’s clean,” came a voice from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. With a slight sigh, I jerked away from the counter and stared at my dad. His expression was a cross between worry and amusement. At least he didn’t look freaked that I was going to off myself in the middle of the night. Was that progress?

“What are you doing here?” I asked a little too breathlessly.

Dad’s face broke out into a smile. “I own the place, and I had it on good authority — your mother’s — that you looked exhausted, so I was going to give you a few hours to yourself.”

I hated hours to myself. I hated any time to myself, because that meant my focus was on me, and when my focus was on me, it was on Brady. And when my focus was on Brady… I just wanted to cry.

“Um…” My eyes traveled to the window that looked out at Main Street and Seaside Taffy, our competitors. A few people were gathering around the corner, and I knew Demetri had probably just gotten in to work.

“You okay?” Dad asked, though his voice sounded far away.