| Wattpad Editor's Choice | Jason Lovett, a no-nonsense guitar-player, is leaving New York to get to a career-making gig in LA. But before he gets far, his car breaks down. Being stranded without a car or money and running short on time to get to th...
"I have wandered all my life, and I have also traveled; the difference between the two being this, that we wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment." – Hilaire Belloc
•••
The walk back to the cabin was quiet and awkward to say the least. Part of me hoped we'd discuss what happened on the cliff, but Della didn't mention it. In fact, she acted as though it hadn't happened. Other than things being abnormally silent, there was no indication that anything had happened at all.
As I stomped down the beaten trail alongside Della, my head full of rattled thoughts, I shoved my hands in my pockets. For once in my life, I longed to have something to say. Some kind of not-lame comment to make about the weather or something equally as mundane to break the tension. But as it was, I was speechless. And Della was obviously not going to budge. Her eyes were fixed on everything but me, her slender arms were crossed over her chest, and her purple hair blew into her eyes but she didn't bother to push it away.
This worried me a little because Della was always the one pushing for me to talk about my feelings. Why wasn't she encouraging me to talk about them now? And why did I have to care so much? Maybe she was thinking things over. Or maybe she's conflicted because of Derrick. Or maybe she doesn't...
Dude, chill. You literally just met, don't rush into anything. She's probably as freaked out as you are.
Either way, I wasn't going to totally ruin everything by saying anything about it. If Della wanted to talk, she'd talk... right?
The only conversation we had during that period of time occurred when Della's breathing began to grow noticeably heavy again. I said nothing until she stumbled a little and I grabbed her elbow to steady her.
"You okay?" I asked, barely loud enough to hear.
She nodded briefly. "It's all good. Just winded."
Things didn't improve much once we got back to the cabin. Upon crossing the threshold, Della made a beeline up to the loft and disappeared from sight. I was tempted to follow her, but I knew that this was probably not the best time to "talk it out." It was a painfully difficult decision, but instead of following my gut, I went into the den with my guitar and began to play absentmindedly.
The tune that I'd had in my brain as I drifted off to sleep the night before came back to me and I hummed along as I plucked at the guitar strings. It was pretty... soft, sweet, and vaguely folksy-sounding. It almost reminded me a little of a Vance Joy-style song. Before I'd realized what I was doing, I had constructed a sequence for the verses and half of a chorus.
I probably would've finished weaving the chords together if I'd not heard a sound from upstairs. I stealthily placed my guitar on the couch and tiptoed to the foot of the stairs to listen. The sound repeated.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
