20. Sophie

twenty

Sophie

Unable to sleep, I roll out of bed early and curl up onto my papasan chair like I did when I was a teenager. It’s a good thinking chair. As I scan my poster-clad wall, I don’t find anything to provide comfort. Too bad I didn’t have a little lapdog or something to keep me company while I’m feeling down and lonely.

Loneliness is new to me.

I’m usually too busy for loneliness. If I’m honest, I’d say I’m also feeling shame over how I misused Axl’s trust. I can’t even cry about feeling hurt, because it really is all my fault for being so stupid to think it was okay to trick him. As I replay the moment when he gave me his jersey, I remember how his whole face was lit up in adoration.

Neither one of us was acting.

The thing is, I didn’t know we’d catch those kinds of feelings for each other after just one kiss. We’d been hanging out for days, and although the attraction was there, we’d been able to keep everything professional. Then he flipped some sort of switch where, as soon as we crossed that boundary, he treated me as his princess, and I believed it. I’m so dumb. I smash my palm on my forehead, wishing for a do-over just as my phone vibrates. I don’t need to check before I answer. “Morning, Bails,” I sing out gloomily.

“Man, do you sound terrible,” she teases. “Were you out all night celebrating with your boyfriend?”

“No.” I’m monotone, not trying to hide my sorrow. I might as well end the charade now, as Axl’s not going to want to hang out with me anymore. “I think we broke up.”

“Oh, Soph, honey, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Nothing really happened.” I start to recite the lines we’d rehearsed about our breakup since day one of this thing. “We had so much fun together, and it was a bit of a whirlwind, but we decided neither one of us is ready for a relationship. I wish the best for him. ” My voice squeaks as I roll my bottom lip in. I don’t know why this sucks so bad. I knew it wasn’t real from the beginning.

“Oh, girl, you say it’s nothing, but you sound so heartbroken. I’m so sorry.”

I bite harder on my lip, unable to squeak out an argument. Tears prick my eyes, and I fight the urge to cry out about what a loser I am to have messed this up so badly. I know better than to deceive people like that. I deserve every ounce of heartbreak I get.

“I suppose this is a good time to tell you that I have fantastic news.”

“You do?” I sniff and slightly perk up.

“I got a check from Bill. He said it was for some marketing campaign you’ve been helping the team with. I have no idea what you’re doing, but boy is he generous. It’s amazing, and it’s enough to cover everyone’s bonuses and more.”

A knot bubbles in my throat. That’s not good news! Bill isn’t supposed to pay me. I can’t spend that money. Now, I’ll have to come up with some excuse about why I need to give it back, and the lies will never end. This is the exact opposite of good news.

“Are you still there?” Bailey peeps out in a softer voice.

“I am. Maybe I’m a little more overwhelmed than I thought I was about everything.”

“I bet. You’ve had a crazy couple of weeks. I don’t suppose you heard about Rocco?”

My brain slams into what feels like another realm. I haven’t even thought about him, and it feels weird to hear his name. “What girl is he on the beach with this week?” I honestly couldn’t care less about him at this point.

“No beaches. Looks like you weren’t the only one he was cheating on. He just got outed in the NFL for some cheating scandal.”

“What do you mean?” My brow furrows. “How can he cheat in the NFL?”

“I guess he was taking bets or something, and purposely missing plays. It’s a whole thing they uncovered between him and a few of his teammates. He’s out of the league as of last night.”

“I didn’t hear that.” I shake my head back and forth, feeling numb. Maybe our breakup was a blessing, because now I’m no longer tied to him. Nobody can drag me through his scandal. “That sounds awful, but I guess I’m not surprised. He tends to think he’s above the rules.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess.”

My mind is reeling. It has only been a couple of days since I talked to Bailey, and this morning she’s full of information. “Is that everything?”

“Almost.” Her tone takes a higher pitch as if she’s getting ready to pry.

“What now?” My heart ticks up. “Please tell me you saved the best news for last.”

“I’m getting asked to schedule interviews, and a few radio shows are requesting you. I’ve been putting everyone off, but I’d like a date for when you’re coming back to work.”

I let out a sigh that borders on a huff. I love my job. I’m grateful to do what I do. She’s also right. I need to put my big-girl pants on and schedule a date. With my fake-date gig over, there’s no need for me to hang out in Mapleton anymore. “Give me the weekend. I’ll fly back on Monday morning. If you need to schedule anything, I’ll be ready that evening.” My heart constricts. Something about leaving Mapleton feels so final. I feel like if I don’t get this thing with Axl resolved, it’ll never get fixed, and I prefer to at least part amicably.

“Sounds good. Oh, and if you’re bored,” she rushes out. “you are certainly welcome to work on some new music.”

“What?” My head literally jolts back as if she’s hitting me with the most shocking news ever.

“You write the best songs when you’re heartbroken.”

“I’m not heart—” I cut myself off. She’s right. That’s what I am. Bailey knows me best. I’ve never been one to talk too much about my problems. I prefer to funnel everything into my creative outlet, which is one of the reasons I came here after Rocco cheated on me. I wanted some time to relax and have my music therapy, but I got so wrapped up in this fake-dating thing, it never happened. “Maybe I will.” I’m thoughtful as I say goodbye. I stare at my phone for only a moment before I open a note in it and start playing with words.

“Mama.” I crack open my bedroom door, hollering down the hall. “Come upstairs. I want to show you something.”

“Is it more photos of you?” Her voice gets louder, and a hint of laughter trickles out as she teases, “I might need a warning.”

“No more photos.” I wave her forward and quickly shut my door before Sam catches wind of what I’m doing. I love my brother, but I don’t doubt for a second that he’ll betray me and find some way to contact Axl before I’m ready.

Mama has her salt and pepper curls pinned back out of her face with two bobby pins, the way she wears it when she’s ready for church. “It’s not Sunday.” I stare at her hair, wondering if I got my days mixed up.

“Oh, this.” Patting her hair, Mama smiles slyly. “I’m getting together with Norma and the church ladies for tea, so I put myself together.”

“Please don’t let her talk about me again.” I exhaustibly huff, tilting my head toward her. “She needs to get a life.”

“You know me.” Mama’s brows rise in unison. “I’m a good listener, and I’ve learned that my listening skills can be mighty useful.” Her eyes twinkle as they stare into mine.

“ What do you know?” My tone is extra sharp, as all the possible stories buzz through my mind, and I whine, “Why is she so concerned about me?”

“Not you,” Mama nearly whispers as she gushes. “She heard that some high-fluting NHL coach is in town, looking for talented players, and it seems like Axl’s on the top of his list.”

My stomach churns as I recall Axl’s part of our pact. He’s getting exactly what he wants, and I should be happy for him. Part of me is happy for him, but the other part already misses him. Once he gets signed, he’ll leave Mapleton. Since he has no ties here, there’ll be no reason to ever come back. “He’s been working really hard, and that’s amazing news for him.” I lower my voice, concealing my emotions. “He never accepted my apology.”

Mama’s green eyes darken as she takes another step into the room. “I’m sorry. Is there something I can help with?”

“I was working on a new song for him but look what I found.” My gaze drifts to my guitar, which I propped up against my papasan chair. It’s acoustic and the first guitar I ever received. I was only ten when Mama got it for me. It’s burned into all my memories, and for that reason alone I could never get rid of it, despite the many upgrades I’ve had.

“Oh, yes, that old thing. I knew it was up here. Does it even tune anymore?”

“It does.” My fingers trace the strings. This guitar changed my life for two reasons. One, it was the moment music was brought into my life. And two, it taught me a valuable lesson, because it wasn’t just the gift that was memorable, but the way Mama gave it to me. It had been the first Christmas after Sam was born, and I was having a hard adjustment. Being a big sister wasn’t at all what I thought it was going to be because Sam was colicky and screamed all day, leaving no time for Mama and me to hang out. Not to mention, I had no presents under the tree. I wasn’t overly upset because I trusted Mama hadn’t forgotten about me, and I figured she was up to something. When it came time to open gifts, she gave me the end of a string and smiled. Lost at first, I was even a little offended, but eventually I took the hint and walked with the string. It led me all around the house on a scavenger hunt until it finally took me to the front porch where she had a box. Inside the box was the guitar. More than getting a gift, I was left with the feeling of being so loved because of all the time and thought Mama put into it. It was all the feelings I needed to make up for the weeks of feeling passed over for the new baby.

Mama taught me the lesson that the presentation can make someone feel more special than the actual gift. That’s the mantra I’ve followed in my career, and it’s what made me connect easier with fans. I’ve tried to carry that into all my shows and songs. It’s not just about a brand, it’s about an experience, and I want everyone to feel like they are part of it.

Hmm.

My mind automatically shifts back to Axl. He was blindsided by the news of my deception, which was not a good way to break it to him at all, and then I practically ambushed him at the park when he clearly wanted to be left alone. I could have handled that so much better.

Maybe if I put some thought into it . . . another shot at apologizing could work? “You know something?” I look up at my mom while grabbing my guitar by the neck and sitting on the chair, positioning myself to play. “I was working on a new song, trying to funnel some of my disappointment into something productive, but what do you think about the idea of me playing it for Axl when it’s done ?”

Her expression softens and she reaches out, touching my forearm, and gives it a soft squeeze. “I think it’s worth a shot.” Mama’s proud smile beams as she slowly backs out of the door. “I need to run or I’ll be late, but I can’t wait to hear it when I get back.”

“Love you.” I keep my eyes on my guitar as I adjust the strings, and a tiny seed of hope fills my chest. An apology will work, but I just need to do it with a little presentation.