Drive(63)

I had to hand it to technology, though. It played a major role in my success, but it didn’t happen overnight.

It was just like I’d told Reid: it takes years and one minute past desperation.

I waited that one minute.

It wasn’t about the if; it was about the when. I collapsed into the lumpy bed at the motel I’d found when exhaustion hit and tears began fusing with the rain-streaked windshield. I stared at the mustard-colored popcorn ceiling with my tweed jacket still on and my life’s tool in my hand. I sometimes wished I had a foggy memory. That I couldn’t remember the details, the dates, the story.

It was both my gift and my curse.

And music was my navigation. I had followed the music my whole life. My guidance, my protection, my ammunition. I followed it to Austin and into the arms of my first love, only to be ripped apart. But music was loyal and stayed with me, my constant, my comfort, and, at times, my enabler.

I rolled over in bed, facing the paneled wood wall. Though I wanted nothing to do with the damn time machine in my hand, I had no choice, because despite our differences about the journey, I remained loyal and took direction. And because I followed, the road narrowed and shed light on memories that just kept circling, begging to be acknowledged long after the last note. I stared at the ticking notifications on the bottom of the screen and ignored them, opting to send a text instead.



In a shitty motel behind a bolt-locked door. Don’t worry. I love you.



The bubbles started and stopped for an eternity. He’d had time to think and he was not a happy man.



Why the fuck aren’t you home?



That’s the thing about intimacy and truly knowing the person you’re with. They always know when something’s off, no matter how casually you try to sweep your unease away. They know. It’s their job, because in the song of your life, they are the ones listening. It’s when they stop that you need to worry. He’d listened to mine. He knew when a beat was missing, or a note was forgotten. He’d memorized my song, and I was his favorite.



I’ll be home tomorrow night. I love you.



The bubbles started and stopped again, and I could feel the call coming, but he left it alone.



After a hot shower in the questionably yellow stall, I lay across the floral comforter and plugged in my time machine before I glanced at the clock.



11:11 p.m. Make a wish, Stella.





Whiter Shade of Pale

Annie Lennox



Seventeen days after Reid Crowne left Austin, I got an email.



“Stella!”



Ben was the one that answered the door when the drums were delivered. And if I weren’t so hell-bent on hating life, I would have laughed at the expression on his face. Instead, I signed for them as the delivery guys toted the huge box inside the apartment and set it in the middle of our poorly furnished living room.

“How the hell did you get the money for these?” Lexi asked as she shared a stupefied look with Ben.

“I didn’t buy them,” I said, my heart wilting as I remembered our day in the music store. “I won them.”

Ben shook his head with an ironic grin. “Only you, Stella. You’re like a fucking unicorn.”

“Hey,” Lexi protested and slapped his chest playfully, “and what am I?” She had her hands on her hips, her large eyes imploring his. It was just like I thought it would be. With zero reluctance from Lexi, due to Ben’s irresistible charm, they got together the minute Lexi got to Austin. And they were perfect for each other.

“Oh, baby,” he said as he cradled the sides of her face, “you’re my muse.”

Though happy for Lexi, I hated being so close to them. They had the warmth that was taken from me. As far as I was concerned, it was the coldest August in the history of Texas.

The cycle lasted about a week. Lexi got me drunk. Held my hand while I talked, and held my head while I threw up. Ben had the unfortunate luck of watching it unfold, too, due to his inability to stay away from Lexi, but I didn’t give a damn. I let myself bleed freely.

I’d only worked two shifts at the restaurant while Paige watched me like a hawk before I irresponsibly threw down my apron and told Leslie I quit. I refused to speak to Paige. She would never get the chance to say I told you so, just like I wouldn’t be able to with Reid.

In a matter of months, everything had changed between the three of us. A split-second decision to walk toward fire, while I was already engulfed in my own flames. I’d never felt that way about anyone and knew it could never happen again. He was my once . . . Reid was my once.

I went through the days in a blur. Ben was over constantly, usually wearing his Home Depot vest after a long day in the lumber department, and entertaining Lexi on our couch while I holed up in my room, staring out the window or walking around our complex, battling insomnia.

I had no words. I hadn’t listened to a single song that I wasn’t forced to at a gas station or a grocery store, which was detrimental to my writing. I had no words if there was no music. And he took it.

Reid took it.

Still, I’d finished enough new articles in my time at Paige’s and Reid’s, along with some old drafts I re-edited and considered print worthy. Without second-guessing myself, I sent them to Nate via email the morning our internet was connected. School was starting in a week and was my only saving grace while I was forced to witness Lexi and Ben’s beginning while I lived through my ending.