Fix You

Chapter 3

Three months passed and Carrie and I did not see each other again. We never exchanged numbers so there was no possible way to keep in contact. For some reasons, I thought it was best that way. I felt as though I would be the man to hurt Carrie and she didn't deserve that. She deserved the world and all of the greatness it had to offer. It was obvious that I couldn't give that to her.

The CMA Awards were being rehearsed at Bridgestone Arena when I had to pick up some play by play tape that I left in the locker room. I knew Carrie was in the building somewhere but I didn't think anything of it. Not until I opened the door to the locker room at least.

There stood Carrie, beautiful as ever although her face was masked in tears that were flowing down her cheeks. Her teary filled eyes darted over to me as I opened the door with a creak. She quickly sniffed up and wiped her tears away, almost embarrassed that anyone saw her in this fragile state.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I left something here the other day," I said walking over to my locker to grab the tape. "Dare I ask why you're crying?"

"Why would you care?" she asked still trying to calm her sobs.

"Because heaven forbid I care about anyone! I know I was a jerk to you the first time we met and I will be kicking myself until the day I forgive myself for it. But geez Carrie, you haven't been any better. All you have been to me is cold and bitter. And I can tell by the state you are in now that that isn't you. I know I don't know the real you but if you just let me just once, maybe it will be worth it," I pleaded in sort of a yelling tone.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly still wiping some stray tears. I sat down next to her on a bench. "I've been hurt by guys like you. I've taught myself not to trust them."

"I can be better than those guys," I said. "I know I can. And if you don't believe me then show me how. Teach me."

Carrie looked at me for several moments before caving in, "Friends. We start as friends."

"As long as friends get to know why you were crying in the first place," I reply.

"It's just...there's so much pressure," she admitted. "There's so much pressure to be the best cohost and to have an amazing performance and just to be perfect and so put together all the time. It's just too much pressure. And all while doing this, I miss my family and my friends back home. I haven't seen them in months. And I basically don't have any time to make friends here."

"Well about the whole friends thing, you have to remind yourself that you just made one," I reminded her. That made her giggle and smile. "And as for all of the other things, don't worry about the pressure. Don't worry about being perfect or amazing or the best. Just be yourself. If you just be yourself then you will be all of those things."

Someone had interrupted our conversation when they knocked on the door yelling, "10 minutes until performance rehearsal!"

But at that moment, it was like Carrie had completely ignored the other person. All of her attention was focused on me. And the only words that she could manage to get out was a simple, "Thank you." But that was all that was needed.

Both of us stood up from the bench as Carrie went over to her vanity and picked up her phone that sat on the counter. "Can I have your number? You know, so I can blow up your phone with friend things."

With a laugh that came from me I replied, "Sure," and then proceeded to give her my number.

After we exchanged numbers, Carrie took a step closer to me wrapping her small arms around me in a hug. I hugged her back squeezing her slightly. "Thank you for helping me."

"5 minutes!" someone knocked on the door again.

"You should probably get going," I said. She nodded as both of us walked out of the dressing room.

Maybe this whole friends thing wasn't a bad idea. I could use some good friends. And so could she. But so badly did I want to be more than that. I was determined to work up to that. I knew I had to.