Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“It’s not like you hid your affection for Heather,” Ellis pointed out.
“That was different,” he muttered.
“Because you’re straight?” I scoffed. “What a load of bullshit.”
I was close to walking out until Ellis came over and reached for my hand, keeping me planted in place with a strong tug.
“No,” Perry said. “It was different because some of our fans knew we were dating and cheered when we made eyes at each other onstage or whatever.” His eyes got this faraway look as if he was reliving the memory. “And we hammed it up for them.”
“How do you know they wouldn’t respond the same way to us?” I asked. “Not that we plan on being public. We’re not out to anyone except you guys. But you get my point.”
“Yeah, okay.” Perry actually looked sheepish. “Sorry, I just… You know how important music is to me.”
Selfish bastard.
I threw up my hands. “And it isn’t to us? Yeah, you’ve always had bigger aspirations, so maybe you’re the one considering your options.”
“I’ve always been honest with you about sitting in with other bands, especially when they need someone in a pinch. But I like what we’ve got going.”
“So, then, let’s not ruin it,” Ellis said. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Perry said, but I wasn’t convinced he meant it. Apparently, we’d have to be a work in progress.
“So we’re the only ones who know about you?” Anthony asked. “Damn.”
“We haven’t told our families yet. We’re not sure how.”
“You should pull the Band-Aid off all at once,” Anthony suggested. “Invite everyone over and tell them together.”
Ellis’s eyes met mine. “That’s actually a good idea.”
Ellis had already told his mom and stepdad about us hanging out more. Not that it was anything new, but the amount of time together was. It was like we were both halfway to a confession and needed to just go for it, no matter the outcome. I didn’t know how anyone would respond. Maybe they’d react like Perry. Just went to show you never truly knew people and shouldn’t assume you did. Perry was disappointing me at every turn, but at least now I knew.
“Can we get to the music now?” Perry asked.
I tucked away my frustration and nodded. “Count us down.”
A few days later, I drove home from work, grabbed my things from the car, and went inside, not giving Ellis’s apartment a second glance because he was at a holiday party thrown by the principal. Every year the teachers gathered at a local bar near the school and wore ugly sweaters for the occasion. I smiled to myself, picturing the terrible one he’d bought.
It was the perfect opportunity for me to bring home the gift I’d made for Ellis and test it out without the scrutiny of my boss. He knew I was working on a side project, and he’d given me the liberty to do that so long as other repairs got done for paying customers. But I’d shown it to George at our lesson tonight, and he got all misty-eyed, which made me certain I’d made the right decision.
I loved on Wednesday, as much as she would let me, made myself something to eat, and then brought out the acoustic bass I’d crafted using pieces and parts from the shop. The base of the instrument was good quality, made from alder wood. Most bass guitars were made from softer materials that produced a warmer tone. The most important thing about the construction of a bass, though, was a tight connection between the neck and the body, so I’d constructed a bolt-on neck before giving it a new fretboard and strings. In my opinion, it’d come out looking pretty sweet.
I sat on the couch and carefully lifted the bass from the case as if it were a rare piece. And I supposed it was, at least to me. It was something I’d crafted out of love.
Love?
Yes, definitely love, but I’d keep that to myself for now. I already cared for Ellis as a friend, but all these new feelings had melded together to form something so fucking special. I was still a bit terrified of where this might lead—and even more so that it would end—but for now, it was hard to contain the happiness, like I was glowing from the inside.
My fingers were shaking as I tuned the instrument. The construction was as good as it got, but if the frets weren’t level and it didn’t stay in tune, it would be worthless—at least in the eyes of a musician. I strummed for a while, feeling pretty good about the sound before the beginning notes of a new song came to me.
I gingerly set the bass aside before reaching for my guitar on its stand near the couch. My fingers instantly started moving on the strings as the melody spilled out of me. Soon, lyrics followed, soul-deep words I kept inside my head because I was afraid of them. No doubt Ellis had inspired the song, and somehow it was cathartic to get my emotions out in music.