Page 91 of A Tragic Melody

“I got rid of it. Okay?” I glare at him.

“Okay,” he says, glaring back.

For a moment, neither one of us says a thing. We just glare at each other.

“Thank you for singing that song,” he finally says.

“I’ve done it before.” I shrug.

“I know.” He nods. “That’s the only reason I asked for it.”

“How did you know?”

“I saw a video online.” He shrugs.

“When?”

“When I was thinking of joining you before. I did my research.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Was it really her favorite song?”

“One of them, yes.” He nods. “She liked all those women singers from the 70s and 80s. She would make me play them for her all the time.”

“I like them, too.” I nod, wiping at my face as another tear rolls down them.

“I figured.”

“Wyatt…”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says. I nod. “Goodnight, Tues.”

“Goodnight.”

I stand looking at him, willing my body to move, but the thought of leaving him right now feels like the definition of hell.

“Do you want to sit?” he asks after a moment.

“Can I?”

“Yeah.” He slides over. “Do you want to see a picture of her?” he asks, staring down at his phone.

“Sure.” I drop my bag on the ground and slide into the space next to him. He turns the phone to me. I’ve already seen a few pictures of her from his social media, but this is a more candid one. “She was cute.” I offer him a smile.

“Right? She was a giant dork, but super smart. I think she could’ve become president if she wanted to.”

“I would’ve voted for her.”

“She would’ve thought you were the coolest.” He laughs. “Begged me to introduce you two.”

“But you wouldn’t have let that happen.” I laugh.

“No way in hell. You two would’ve ganged up on me. I wouldn’t have stood a chance.” He scoots down and scrolls over on his phone, revealing a picture of them together. He wipes at the corner of his eye for a moment. “I think I knew the moment they died,” he says softly, scrolling to another picture of them and two older adults that I assume are his parents. “Shortly before the show started, I got this horrible pain in my chest. I like to believe that was my soul knowing they were gone. Is that insane?” He laughs, looking over at me.

“No. I think even though it’s sad, it’s nice to be so connected to someone, you’d know when they die.”