Chapter Eleven: Slipped Away

Chapter Eleven

Paisley

SLIPPED AWAY

Performed by Avril Lavigne

Instead of rejoining her family and friends, Paisley did what she'd been doing every day since coming home. She retreated to her sister's room, grabbed Landry's guitar, and clambered onto the yellow-and-orange floral cushion in the window seat that looked over the backyard. Jonas wasn't on the swings anymore. Her heart flipped, and her stomach sagged. He'd left. Just like she'd told him to.

She leaned her head against the paned glass, the coolness calming her somehow. Just like Landry had always calmed her. When her anxiety spiked the worst, it was Landry who'd always saved her. She'd tug at Paisley's hair, surround her hands with her own, and push her metal rings into Paisley's skin. The rings they'd buried her with today.

The pressure grew inside her chest and throat, swelling, swelling, swelling. She rubbed a finger over the new anxiety ring her doctor had prescribed, fighting the tide, trying to push it all back down. The beads on the ring slid back and forth, somehow soothing her and reminding her of Landry all at the same time.

"Your funeral was today," Paisley said, talking to Landry as she'd been doing in secret for days. "It was unbearable, and every time I tried to grab your hand to help me through it, I was torn apart all over again because it was you we were burying."

The silence of the room echoed back.

Not even a ghost of her sister remained. She'd heard one tormented call that night in Grand Orchard―a voice that had said her name in the dark before it had vanished. She'd heard nothing since then, but she could hope. She plucked a chord on the guitar, wishing the sound was Landry's voice answering.

"Jonas has been trying, Lan. He's tried so hard to be there, to stand beside me. And all I can think is that if I hadn't been off with him… If I hadn't been so determined to prove you wrong, to cast you off, to shine on my own, I would've been at your side. You wouldn't have died. That asshole would have found me instead of you."

The well broke over, a sob erupting from deep within her.

"You got what you wanted, Lan. Jonas and I are not together anymore. I can't look at him without seeing all my mistakes. Somehow, I know this wouldn't make you happy. You wouldn't want to tear me apart just to tear us apart. But it's happened anyway."

Paisley fingered the strings more and then slid her hand down to the Golden Butterfly daisy etched and painted into the rich wood as tears tumbled from her face onto the smooth surface. The more Paisley tried to brush them away, the stronger they came, her loss of Landry mingling with her loss of Jonas.

She tried to force the pain back, turning her thoughts from the two people who'd meant everything and were now gone. Forcing herself to think of the band and Tommy's words.

"Asher and RMI won't wait, Lan. He only cares about money, but the rest of us…we don't know how to do this without you. You'd be making a list, and placing calls, and pushing us all back together, but none of us know how to be you. Not even Fee…"

Another violent sob erupted from her chest. Paisley plucked the strings again. She could play the guitar, but it wasn't her favorite. The piano was where her soul really belonged. Except, these days, the words and the notes that were always rattling around in her brain were quiet―silent―as if even the music was mourning.

"I don't know if we can be The Painted Daisies without you." She sniffled. "I miss you. I wish I knew what to do. I wish…"

Paisley looked down at the guitar case and saw a piece of paper tucked into the inside back pocket. It must have come loose after all the times Paisley had batted the case around over the last few days. She grabbed it, opened it, and read…