Mirror // Van McCann

39. Are You Home?

The next few weeks flew by. The MCAT was next month and I was freaking out. Before, I let myself get distracted by Amy and Van, but now that the number of days left was dwindling, I was cracking down on the studying. I studied whenever and wherever I could.

"What subject are you studying now?" Van asked, looking over my shoulder. Once he saw what I was studying, he wrinkled his nose and walked away. "I was never good at maths. Good luck with that." I laughed and continued working through the problem.

Minutes later, I could hear Van strumming away on his guitar. I didn't mind—it was actually calming. He was trying to figure out the chords to songs he wrote. I looked up from my book to watch him for a few minutes. He was humming along to his song, trying to figure out what sounds would fit best. Once he figured it out, he would make quick notes in his notebook and pick up where he left off.

I got carried away watching his face which went through several emotions in such a short amount of time. I'd see him wonder how something sounds, then I could see the gears turning in his brain as he thought critically as to whether it would work or not. He would nod when he found the right sound or shake his head if it wasn't the one. It was stinkin' cute. He briefly looked at me and once he saw that I was already staring, the corner of his lips pulled up into a smile.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" he asked, obviously trying to give me a hard time.

"I got distracted," I answered truthfully.

The smile disappeared from his face and he suddenly looked apologetic. "Am I distracting you? I'm sorry, I'll stop."

"No you're fine! I was just admiring you from afar. And I think it's time for me to take a break anyway," I said, getting up.

"Before you go, do you want to listen to a song I wrote a few weeks back?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his face.

I moved to sit closer to him. "Sure," I replied.

"This song's called Overlap," he said, clearing his throat. He played a few chords before singing.

"Why does it take
The 11th hour
For us to make
The simplest of calls?

Rather than decide
This all tonight
I'm good to follow your lead
So take as long as you need

I've found that we end up laughing
So it's sound
And eventually
I know that if paths keep crossing
And your life keeps lapping over me"

I could feel my heart warm up watching how much passion he puts into his music. Once he was done, he looked at me expectantly.

"So what do you think?" he asked, smiling.

"I love it! I don't think it's possible for you to write a bad song," I replied and he laughed.

"Guess who this song's about?"

I was caught off guard by his question. I stared at him, puzzled, trying to remember the lyrics he just sang. I remember there being something about paths crossing and laughing. His lyrics were so vague—they could be about anyone.

"I honestly have no idea," I answered.

"You're no fun," Van said, making a face. "Here—I'll give you a hint. I go straight from mine to work to you." He emphasized the "you" part and the realization hit me.

"Me?" I asked in a small voice, not sure if I was interpreting his hint correctly. The huge smile on his face confirmed everything.

"Yes. I'll show you the lyrics so you can read through it." Van flipped through several pages before he found the correct page. He then handed me the notebook and I read through the lyrics. After reading through them once, I quickly glanced at him, and then reread the lyrics again.