Shy (19 page)

“Sure.”

“I saw your friend Jake in the audience for a bit, just there at the last. And I noticed he didn't stay. I guess I...” He pauses, as though weighing his words. Then he says, “I get a strong feeling that you two still have big time feelings for each other. I'm very attracted to you, but I don't want to push you while you might have feelings for your ex-boyfriend.”

I nod, appreciating what he's saying. Granville amazes me with how intuitive and understanding he is. “That's probably a good thing,” I say. “I still care for Jake a great deal. But I care for you, too. And I don't want to be unfair to either one of you.”

“Well, it's okay. Time will sort things out and regardless, we can play together and enjoy our friendship. And you know what?”

“What?”

“Some things are worth waiting for,” he says with a sweet smile that spreads over his whole face and lives especially in his eyes.

True enough. I have a lot to work through and figure out. I'm filled with confusion about Jake and me, about what happened between us last night, and now, his clear and evident hurt tonight, seeing me playing onstage with the Neutron Stars.

“Talk to you tomorrow.” I'm excited about the possibilities of our friendship gently turning to romance, yet anxiety prickles me as I see, in my mind's eye, Jake's retreating back, knowing how he must have been happy for me and hurt at the same time. I'm surprised that all the conflicting emotions I'm feeling don't cause my head to explode with the cognitive dissonance.

“Can't wait to hear from you.” Granville gives my hand a warm squeeze.

I go back to my dorm room. Andrea is out, which suits me just fine. I need some time to myself. I flop down on my bed and close my eyes, feeling awash in happiness at my triumph. Not only did I play a song I wrote in front of an audience, but I sang, too. True, the band was supporting much of the music and not putting me on center stage, and true, I wasn't singing through a microphone, but it was a start, much more than I would ever have dreamed I'd be capable of, even a few weeks ago. It's amazing how much a person—or a wildflower—can bloom under light at just the right angle to help her grow.

I recall the expression on Jake's face. He makes me feel safe, loved, and protected, but he has a strong, edgy feel, too, and I never really know what to expect from him. It's exciting, but it's frustrating. He pulls me close, pushes me away. Then he claims he does it because he's thinking of what's best for me. Well, I'm sure that's true. I know he cares deeply about me. Bottom line: his problem is that he thinks he can never be good enough.

And my mom reinforced that in him a millionfold.

In my mind, I see Jake getting up and walking away, his body language speaking to a deep hopelessness, a why-bother. It looked as if he was walking out of my life. I really need to call him and tell him I want him to stay around, for whatever that might mean, and I'm not even sure right now what I want it to mean.

I'm confused as hell, honestly. I've been in love with Jake for years. He makes my heart pound, my mind foggy, and my body melt. But as long as he won't let go of his insecurities, he'll dither on and on, and in the meantime, life will roll on and bring its changes. Here's Granville, who has already become such a good friend and has helped bring such positive change to my life. Do I wait on Jake to realize he is good enough for me? And if I waited, how long would I have to wait until life completely passed me by?

It's like Granville appeared in my life to show me a new way, a new path, and to make me jump onto that path instead of standing aside and just dreaming about it, afraid to make it real. With Granville, I'm learning how to let go of my fear, take chances, and put myself out there.

But I still miss Jake.

Granville is wise not to push me until I've resolved my feelings about Jake, and resolving those feelings is what I need to try to do. I won't get a wink of sleep until I've heard Jake's voice. I want him to still be in my life, even if it's only as my friend. So the thing to do is give him a call.

I listen to his phone ring, again and again. I'm just about resigned to it going over to voicemail when I hear Jake's voice, not the recording. “Wildflower,” he says gruffly.

I smile, hearing his name for me. I've found myself worrying about the day when he starts calling me just plain Frannie. Like everybody else. Even to Granville, I'm just plain Frannie. But to Jake, and Jake alone, I'm Wildflower.

That's something, isn't it?

“I'm glad you answered,” I say. “I was starting to worry that you wouldn't.”

“Why's that?” he says.

“I saw you at the Loving Spoonful. In the audience.”

Silence.

“And I saw you walk out. I was hoping you'd stay and talk to me.”

More silence. Such total silence that I have to wonder if he's hung up, though he's never once hung up on me in all the years we've been friends. And more.

“Jake?” I say, hating how my voice sounds so small.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding tired. “Look, Wildflower, I'm really happy for you that you're doing what you're doing. I hope you join that band. I think it would be really good for you. I think what you're doing with them is better for you than anything you've ever done before. And I...”

“Why didn't you stay and talk to me?” I say, interrupting his flow of words. “That's why you came, isn't it?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but I started feeling like it would be better if I left.”

“But why?”

“Because you're happy. You're doing things that are good for you, and it's because of Granville. And I shouldn't get in the way of that.”

“But you're not in the way of that. I can be friends with Granville and still be...” I can't finish. I'd wanted to say
in love with you
. But I don't want to say that because if it's going to be greeted with silence, I don't think I could bear it.

It's like he doesn't want to hear what I had it in my heart to say because he stays quiet. But he doesn't hang up.

“Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“Please come and get me. I want to see you.”

“I don't know if that's a good idea.”

“Please. It's important. I really need to see you. I don't want our friendship to end.”

“It won't. But...” He stops.

“But what?”

“It's going to have to change. Your life is going in an exciting new direction and I don't want to get in the way. It's good for you. I saw that on your face, up there with that band.”

“But I'll miss you. Missing you isn't good for me. You've been in my life for so many years now and you're my best friend.”

A long silence drags out. Then he says, “You're my best friend, too.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. How can I have thought he'd leave my life forever? But this phone call just isn't enough. Especially if I decide to join Granville's band. We need to see each other, see how we feel. Now is the time to put what Jake and I have on the line and see which way it goes. “Please. Come get me. Let's talk in person.”

No response, but he doesn't hang up.

“Jake. I need to see you.”

A long silence. Then he finally says, “Okay, Wildflower. I'm on my way.”

We end the call and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't really know what I'm up to. I'm not really following my head, any kind of logical plan, as much as I'm following my heart.

All I know is that when I saw Jake's back walking out of the Loving Spoonful as I sung onstage with Granville, I felt as though my heart was being ripped out of my chest. And as good as it felt to perform in public, as good as it felt to think I might join a successful local band and get some good experience, it felt horrible to think Jake and I would part ways because of it.

I need to give him a chance, give
us
a chance. And I have to let him know that's what I want.

I'm on my way to Wildflower's dorm, but what we'll do once she gets into my truck, I have no idea. Maybe she'll want to drive to the lake, where I'll play my guitar and sing and she'll sit and listen. If we do that, I wonder if she'll sing or if she'll still be too shy to sing in front of me even though by now, she's done it many times for Granville and even to a degree in front of an audience tonight.

I'm glad she did it, though. Sung for him, sung for all those people. Even if she can't sing for me. I want her to be happy. It's all I've ever wanted for her.

I wish it were me who could help her, not some other guy.

I'm just going to talk to her. Maybe sit with her in front of her dorm. We've done that before, pulled off to the side of the building, or maybe to the nearest parking lot, and sat and talked. Since there's not much traffic late at night, the campus cops don't seem to care. I won't stay long. We'll talk, I'll reassure her we're still friends, and she won't feel bad anymore and can get on with her life's new direction.

Why does the thought of Wildflower's new direction make me feel like there's a huge boulder sitting in my stomach?

It's what has to happen, though. It's the way things are. Things have changed. Our lives have changed. Actually, it's Wildflower's life that changed after Granville entered it, and I have no choice but to back away for her own good.

What's the old saying: If you love someone, you have to be willing to let them go?

As soon as I reach her dorm and park, Wildflower bursts out the front door of the building, looking around for my truck. When her gaze lights up like a supernova on seeing me, I don't think I could let her go even if I had all eternity to try to do it.

She runs to my truck, then hops in and scoots across the seat. When she presses herself against me in a big hug, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. God, she feels so good. She feels so right.

“I'm glad you came,” she says softly. “I was afraid you wouldn't, after you walked out of that show.”

“I only walked out of that show because I didn't want to bring you down.”

She leans back far enough so she can look into my eyes. “When am I ever going to make you understand that you don't bring me down? You lift me up.”

I look at her, skeptical. It's Granville who lifts her up, not me. It's him she sings for.

“Why won't you believe me?” she asks.

I don't want to state the obvious. It'll only hurt her. But I really have no choice. I need to make her see. “I don't lift you up like Granville does. You've never sung for me.”

“I know. I don't know what to say about that. Except...” She flushes and looks down at her hands, which are folded tightly in her lap. While I watch, she clenches them together a little bit, making her knuckles pale.

Except what? My heart hurts because I'm making her nervous again. Into my mind flashes the look on Mom's face when Dad goes on one of his rants. I know she disagrees with some of his crazier views, but she's afraid to speak her mind, even to look him in the eye sometimes. Is that the kind of thing I'm doing to Wildflower? No way do I ever want to make her feel that way.

I bet Dad doesn't want to make Mom feel that way, either. It's just his nature. He's obnoxious, ornery, and self-absorbed, and she should have left his ass years ago.

Like maybe Wildflower should leave mine.

“Except... Jake, I want to sing for you. Tonight.” She meets my gaze, her face in full, rosy shy flush, but her eyes are brimming over with hope, tenderness, and... do I see it? Yes, desire. It's got to be desire.

I can't believe I heard her right. I can't quite bring myself to speak. Staring at her, I can only hope she'll repeat what I thought I heard her say.

And she does. “I want to sing for you, and I want to go to your apartment to do it.”

The look on Jake's face when I told him I want to go to his apartment tells me all I need to know. His eyes grow wide, then a slow smile spreads across his face. As he drives us to his place, I wonder if Ty and Kelsey are gone tonight.

God, I hope so.

But even if they're not, I'm going to sing for Jake.

A melody runs through my head. A new song. I also hear piano for it. But Jake doesn't have a piano, only a guitar.

My ear, though, is good enough to where I can pick out songs by ear on his guitar, so I'll do that tonight. On the piano, the song I'm composing in my head would be played in the key of D, but I think, on the guitar, I'll play it in G. It'll be in a lower key than I'll sing it on piano, but easier to work with on the guitar.

I think he'll like it. I wrote “A Little Bit of Home” with Granville in mind when I thought Jake wasn't interested in me as a girlfriend anymore, but now that I know differently, I'm hearing music and words in my head for a new song called “Joining,” and it's inspired by Jake.

If I join Granville's band, I might be playing it with them, the Neutron Stars.

But it will always be Jake's and my song.

As he drives, he reaches over and takes my hand. I squeeze his back. When we dated my senior year, we often drove like this, holding hands. I've missed it.

We stop in front of his apartment building, but he makes no move to get out. He sits with his hands still on the wheel, looking off into space. I hope he's not having second thoughts. But if he is, maybe I can make him forget them.

“Jake?”

He looks over at me. Though it's dark in the parking lot, I can make out enough of his face to see the tenderness in his eyes and relief washes through me. “Are we going to be alone tonight?”

“Honestly, I don't know. But I hope so.”

We get out and both of us scan for Ty's and Kelsey's cars. Kelsey's car is gone—he goes out a lot. But my heart sinks when I see Ty's car.

Damn it. Doesn't he ever go out?

Sigh.

Well, I can sing for Jake anyhow. As long as my courage holds out. If Ty is there and can hear, though, I'll feel pretty shy. But yes, I'm sure I can sing for Jake. Recalling the hurt on his face while I was up there with Granville, I need to let him know that yes, I do feel comfortable enough to sing for him, even while just being in his presence is setting me on fire. But I can sing through the fire.