Page 5
We miss you, please come back?
(chorus)
We wish you could come back
We really need you
We wish you could come back
We really love you
We wish you could come back
We really miss you
I scrawled the words on the paper, knowing they weren’t close to what I wanted to say. I knew I’d read them repeatedly when I was alone, changing cadence and sentiment, but maybe what I was writing down could work for something else.
My words changed with my moods, and some of my finished songs had been written with pieces from other songs—sort of like Frankenstein’s monster. Others were so bad that I tore the page from my notebook and ripped it to pieces.
“This is incredible, JD. Why haven’t you told me you can write lyrics like these?” Riv’s expression was one of surprise.
I chuckled. “Nobody ever asked if I could. All of you thought I was an idiot and a stoner like Hardy. He wasn’t that much of a stoner, you know. Just like I’m not.”
Riv lifted his eyebrow in question. “You’re not? Hardy always had a stash.”
“All of us were trying to give off that hard-edged rock-star image like the other bands popular with our fans. I won’t lie and say I never smoked, but it was rare because I’m not comfortable with the fog that sticks around after. It fucks with my creative process and my voice. The rock-star lifestyle isn’t anything I want to continue to live.”
There. I’d said it. Maybe it would be unpopular with the band, but it was my truth. After the accident, I couldn’t live my life any other way but honestly.
River stared at me before he smiled. “Okay, so where do we stand regarding collaborating on songs for the band?”
“That’ll work. I’ve got a lot of other notebooks in a storage unit with my other stuff that I’ve filled with lyrics I’d like to sell to other artists someday. Those songs are nothing our fans would like. We’re a hard-rocking band, and most of my lyrics are for ballads and love songs.”
Riv smiled. “JD, what I read was spectacular. You should find an agent to represent you for your songwriting career. Maybe those songs don’t fit Accidental Fire’s vibe, but they come from your heart and should be heard.”
Relief rushed through me. “I haven’t actively searched for a market. I worried you’d think I was betraying you because you’re the writer for the band. You write the songs we perform, and I didn’t want you to think I was trying to take that away from you. You’re like a brother to me.”
River rolled his eyes. “Dude, we could do such great work together. You keep your songs, okay? You sell them to whomever you want, and we’ll get Lerner to find a lawyer to write up an agreement that the songs you write on your own are your intellectual property. Though I do want you to write some songs with me that will be property of the band. These words? Fuck, they’re brilliant.”
I shrugged, a little embarrassed by his praise, and held out my phone. “Those lyrics aren’t great but give me a little time to sit with it. I need that melody, so record it for me, okay? I write better lyrics if I can listen to the music. Before the accident I could play… Well, this crap is just off the top of my head.”
Riv pointed to the group of surfers in the water. “They’re paddling out.” We watched them move toward the incoming waves as River played the song he’d composed so it could be recorded on my phone.
They all popped up on their boards at the same time, and it was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was almost like some kind of choreographed ballet, but each surfer had their own unique style. God, I could never imagine being able to move over the board as if I were dancing.
River and I watched as Kit and another guy jumped off their boards in the shallower water and carried them over the sand toward us. As they got closer, the guy jogging with Kit became more recognizable.
“Hey! Look who I found in the waves.” Kit ran over to River and shook his head like a dog from a bath before picking Riv up to swing him in a circle.
After watching their ridiculous, yet adorable, behavior, I turned toward the other man. “Oh fuck.” I nearly bit off my tongue.
It was Lieutenant Thatcher Emberly. The firefighter I’d confessed to when I thought I’d killed Hardy by dragging him out of the bus with me. The lieutenant had emphasized that I shouldn’t say it again to anyone, and for once, I’d kept my mouth shut.
It was nice to see the handsome man again. He had been incredibly kind to all of us the night of the crash.
“What a great coincidence! Hi, River. JD.”
Thatcher’s grin sped my heart’s beat. I stood from my seat on the bamboo mat, feeling awkward at his intense stare. “Hey, Lieutenant. How are you?” My voice squeaked a little, which made my cheeks heat.
