The next morning, I woke up feeling like shit.
It's really the only
way to describe it-I just felt terrible. I was tired and cranky, and very
confused.
I needed some time to think...think about what had gone on the
night before.
I was still rather in shock about the entire episode, so I did
what I always did.
When I woke up, I lay in bed for twenty minutes, a dull ache
originating in my stomach and spreading outward until I was totally immersed
in it.
I tossed and turned restlessly, tangled hopelessly in the confining
sheets. This ache was an ache of misgiving and emptiness, and I wallowed in
it until I had had enough. I rolled out of bed, groaning, and plodded
listlessly into the kitchen. I poured myself a tall glass of orange juice.
It felt blessedly cool in the back of my parched throat. After draining the
glass and setting it in the sink, I continued on to the living room.
When I first sat down at the old, dusty piano in the living room, I
didn't intend to play for very long. But as soon as I started, I lost track
of time-as my fingers flew over the ebony and ivory, time was kept not in
seconds or minutes but in quarter notes and eighth rests. This was how I
worked out my feelings. It was the only time my head was completely clear.
I tried to think about what I would do next regarding AJ as I flew through
Debussy and Brahms. My feelings quickly became more complicated as I moved
on to Beethoven and Mozart; and just as I started with Bach's Piano Concerto
#2, the phone rang.
My fingers hovered for a moment-I was caught off guard. I heaved a
sigh and stood up, pushing the piano bench back. I ambled lazily to the
kitchen, annoyed at being interrupted, and picked up the phone just before
the answering machine did.
"Hello?" I said shortly.
"Yeah, Becky?" a guy's voice said on the other end. The connection
was rather scratchy, and I heard lots of people talking in the background.
I squinted my eyes in confusion. "Nick?" I asked curiously, sitting
down at the kitchen table. "Why are you calling?"
Interesting, I thought.
I imagined that none of the guys would ever want to have anything to do with
me again, after my performance last night.
Nick cleared his throat anxiously. "Well...Ryan gave me your number,
obviously, and since I know you the best out of the rest of the guys, I mean,
except for AJ of course...I was elected to call you," he stammered. "I just
wanted to let you know, AJ's really confused about everything that happened
last night."
"Oh, is he now?" I said, scowling. "Confused? Hmm...no, I wouldn't
know how that feels," I spat sarcastically.
That threw Nick off guard. "Well..." he said again, "All he heard
what that you ran out and said that you never want to see him again."
"Okay, so what's there to be confused about?" I muttered, kneading my
temples with my fingertips. I could feel a massive headache coming on.
"Everything!" Nick exclaimed. "And for that matter, none of us other
guys know what's going on either. You just ran out suddenly...and no one
knows why."
Morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, getting
snagged on the dust floating in the air before finally pooling on the tile
floor. I wondered how everything could look and feel so right, how the sun
could shine so gently and the sparrows outside could trill cheerfully, when
every feeling inside me felt so torn and chaotic.
I explained everything to Nick. I told him about hearing AJ on the
phone with someone else, telling her that she could come over, that they
would be alone...I told him how betrayed I felt and why I needed to run. I
couldn't take it.
"Oh my god," Nick said excruciatingly slowly. "No way."
"What?" I asked cautiously. Silence. "Come on, Nick," I warned. "I
don't have all day."
"Becky," he said finally, "if you weren't really upset about this
whole thing, I would have to kill you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I sighed, exasperated. I
drummed my fingers anxiously on the wooden table-a nervous habit of mine.
"That was no other girlfriend AJ was talking to!" Nick exclaimed
excitedly.
"That's his cousin! She's coming in from out of town this
week...she got in last night and she wanted to go over to AJ's. But see, she
did want to be alone with him, because she's kinda freaked out by this whole
AJ fame thing. She hasn't seen him since they were, like, eleven. And of
course he told her all about you and she was really shy about meeting you.
She wanted to hang out with AJ a while first and make sure everything was
cool." My jaw fell open in shock. Nick continued, "Oh my god, Becky...I wish
you had just asked one of us first before you ran out like that!"
I moaned softly to myself. Dear god...what had I done? I totally
overreacted. It was all my fault...AJ would never forgive me.
Suddenly the thought that I had screwed things up with AJ struck me.
It echoed inside my ears and made my heart beat faster. My breathing grew
heavy; tears pricked my eyes, and I regretted everything I had said and done
last night. AJ was the only thing that mattered to me right now, and if I
had just lost him, I didn't know what I would do.
I brought myself back to reality. "Nick, thank you so much! You're
too good to me," I said hurriedly. "I really appreciate this very much and
I'll find some way to thank you...but right now there's something I have to
do." The words tumbled haphazardly from my lips, faster than my brain could
even think them. "Give Ryan my love, all right? Tell her I'll call her.
Thanks Nick! Talk to ya later!"
I quickly hung up the phone with Nick and hit speed dial button
number one. The phone number to AJ's house in Kissimmee dialed and
connected. The line at the other end started to ring, and I silently hoped
to myself that some way, some how, I would fix this mess.
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