The Sound of You **on hold**

Chapter 18

Adelaide

Talking to Dawson is so easy. In the week he's been gone, we've been texting every day. He tells me about his work up North and the cabin he's working on. He sends me pictures of the beautiful lake within steps of the property. In my favourite picture, the lake is lined with trees and cottages and the water looks calm at sunset. He tells me about the little red fox that pays him a visit a couple of times a day, and he keeps crackers around to feed it.

He calls me in the evening when he's finished working. Sometimes he's driving back to his motel at a nearby town. Sometimes he's fishing and talks while he waits to catch something. Sometimes he's sitting at a fire by himself. Sometimes a co-worker will razz him while he's on the phone with me and Dawson tells him to fuck off... but with cleaner language.

I get to hear personal things about him. He talks about his mom's boyfriend he's not fond of, and how he's not close with his mom because of it. It makes me sad for him, because if he's not close with his mom or his twin brother, and his dad is dead, where are his family values? Maybe it's just not something that's very important to him...

When he shares things about his life like that, I feel slightly guilty for keeping my own heaviness a secret. Anytime I even think about how one day I might need to tell him about Nathan, I feel a massive lump in my throat, threatening to close my airways. So I suppress it and decide I don't need to tell him. It works in the moment, even though when I'm alone I know it has to happen at some point.

Our favourite subject is music. It seems to be something we're both passionate about, and have similar tastes in. We share our favourite artists and exchange recommendations.

"If you like City and Colour, you'd probably really like Dashboard Confessional." I say over the phone.

"I do actually. Yeah, they're good too. Right now I'm really in a kick with good bands with female vocalists."

"Like Paramore?" I ask, hoping he didn't overlook them to begin with.

"Yeah, Hayley Williams has quite the voice. Skillet is good too." I nod, even though he can't see me. He's naming bands that play awesome rock. Although Paramore has evolved to more alt-pop and indie-pop with their last couple of albums.

"Okay, I've got a good one for you." I say. "Chvrches. They're like, indie-pop/synth-techno music, with mainly female vocals. Super catchy tunes and awesome beats. Easy to dance to and get lost in."

"I'll check them out for sure! And hey, you said you were looking for something with some piano incorporated, right?"

"Yes! I really like Jack's Mannequin. So something like that."

"That's what I thought, and I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier, but Andrew McMahon - he's the singer for Jack's Mannequin - he had another band, Something Corporate. He plays piano in that band too. They're similar so you'll probably like them."

"Nice, I'm writing that down." I switch on the speakerphone and jot it down in an app. I happen to glance at my home screen when I'm clicking back to the phone call. "Ugh, I just saw the time. I'm definitely late for a reasonable night's sleep before work tomorrow."

We hang up, as expected, I get a text from him.

Goodnight Adelaide : )

I text back goodnight. This has become a regular thing for us. It's cheesy, but it makes me smile every time. I forgot what it's like to have a boy text you goodnight. My stomach literally erupts with butterflies – or something more. Maybe the garden feeding the butterflies is growing in my stomach too. It's a warm feeling.