14. Matters of the Heart

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Prom was in 5 days, I didn’t have a date, obviously.

I kept thinking about that day in the market. Apart from Neil, it was my mom I was more concerned about. I wanted to make her proud. I was 17 already and there were so many kids younger that had achieved more than me. I got out my guitar and got to work. “I can’t sleep tonight, wide awake and so confused, everything’s in line but I am bruised. I need a voice to echo, I need a light to take me home, I kind of need a hero is it you? I never see the forest for the trees, I could really use your melody, Baby I’m a little blind, I think it’s time for you to find me… Can you be my Nightingale? Sing to me, I know you’re there, you could be my sanity bring me peace, send me to sleep. Can you be nightingale?” My voice sounded okay.

I recorded myself singing Nightingale by Demi and sent it to this number I had received from Cam. Cam said they wanted new voices in the industry.  This was my chance to prove to everyone that I could sing. Music was the one thing I was confident with. I kept my guitar back in its case and plonked myself on my bed. My phone beeped. I jumped to see the message. I was hoping it was the music guy but it was Neil. I had deleted his number but I knew it at the back of my mind.  I sighed and picked it up. “What is it?” I said uninterestedly. “Babe, I’m sorr...” “Don’t call me babe.” I yelled. “Riles, please I’m really sorry, I miss you so much, I need you back.” “YOU NEED ME BACK? WHERE WERE YOU ALL THESE DAYS? SATISFYING BRIDGET? I’M DONE WITH YOU NEIL. I LOVED YOU. WHAT DID I DO WRONG? WHY DO YOU EVEN WANT ME NOW? I’M WORTHLESS ANYWAYS. DON’T CALL BACK PLEASE.” I screamed and hung up. Tears escaped my eyes. I missed him so much. What was happening to me? Is this what love does? I could feel my heart ache inside. I still loved him.

My phone started ringing again. I picked it up and shrieked. “WHAT THE FUCK DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE WORDS ‘DON’T CALL BACK’?” “Riley? Are you alright?” I heard Cam’s voice. He was freaking out. “Oh it’s you! I’m so sorry. I was just talking to Neil.” I said trying to calm him down. “That bastard called you? Do I need to go punch him? Or kick him in his balls or something? Trust me, it hurts a lot! My ex had kicked me once! Right in my treasure…it hurt for like a week or…” I started laughing and cut him off. “Cam, Cam, Cam I’ll call you when I need you to beat him up or kick his balls or whatever but I’m sure that’s not why you called so tell me what’s up with you?”

“Alright, I need your honest opinion okay?” he said. “Okayyyyy.” I said while stretching the word. “What do you think of me? As in, do you like me? Am I likeable?” he said. “Cam, why are you asking me that?” I said feeling confused. “Just answer the question Riley!!” he screamed. “Alright, Alright!” I said while rolling my eyes. “I think you’re great ...You’re sweet, really adorable and you’re a good Guy.” I continued. “You think Nat likes me?” he said. My eyes immediately lit up. “MY TWO BEST FRIENDS. MY TWO VERY BEST FRIENDS. OOOOOH YEAH! OOOH YEAH! OOOOH YEAH.” I sang on the phone. “My two best friends, what Riley?” he said yelling at me. “My two best friends like each other, you idiot!” I screamed with excitement. “SHE LIKES ME? DON’T JOKE PLEASE RILEY.” He said excitedly.

“YES YES YES CAM! SHE LIKES YOU A LOT!” “NO WAYS RI-I-ILEY! I LOVE HER! SHE’S AMAZING! AND HER EYES ARE SO CRYSTAL CLEAR; I JUST GET SO LOST IN THEM. I WANT HER RILEY, ARE YOU SURE SHE LIKES ME? WHY HASN’T SHE TOLD ME YET?” “THE SAME REASON YOU NEVER TOLD HER, YOU IDIOT! SHE WAS TOO SCARED BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT YOU HATED HER! SHE’S ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT YOU AND YOUR SMILE, YOUR HAIR, YOUR LIPS, YOUR DIMPLES! GOSH SHE CANNOT STOP! NOW PLEASE GO TELL HER YOU LIKE HER! SHE’LL DIE OF EXCITEMENT PROBABLY!” I found myself jumping and yelling on the phone. “ALRIGHT I’M GOING RIGHT NOW! CAN YOU COME TOO? I’M REALLY SHY AND I’LL PROBABLY SAY SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY IRRELEVANT IF YOU AREN’T THERE! I’LL PICK YOU UP IN 5?” “Yes that sounds great! I’ll see you!” and I hung up. 

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